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morendoTitle: Crawl my bones back to you
Pairing: Jin/Kame/Yamapi
Rating: PG-13
Words: 817
Summary: Bones are the hardest things in the human body that holds it together, but it doesn’t take much to break them.
A/N: Foranamuan.
crawl
Yamapi wants to grow up.
He wants to stop feeling like he’s taking baby steps towards a faraway dream. Made of shimmering images that shiver and shifts, its shape is indistinct. He dreams of them and of peace, but when Yamapi wakes up, only a vague trace of hope remains, distilled from the incoherency.
Yamapi wants to feel change creep across his skin, contours melting and molding into something new. He drags fingertips across his arm, skin prickling with the elusive warmth, trying to imagine what it would be like to crawl out of the vessel that holds him and turn it inside out – soak, rinse, wring, peg it up on a line. Would his skin be able to flutter with the breeze? He feels the weight of his feelings as they perch on his shoulder, digging sharp talons into his conscience.
As Yamapi steps under the rush of hot water, he wonders if he will still be the same when he puts it back on. Will it be a hardened dry shell that shatters under his touch, process irreversible? Maybe it will be a slip-slide with ease, fitting snugly with a leathery texture that is warm to the touch?
The hot water washes away the feel of Jin’s lips on his, and numbs the skin where his hands burn where Jin had held them.
my bones
The clavicle is one of the weakest bones in the human body, but it is also the most beautiful. Jin marvels in its creation – curved in an S (for sensitive), admiring its rise and fall, the mathematical grace in its simple concave and convex.
Bones are the hardest things in the human body that holds it together, but it doesn’t take much to break them. There is a crackle of bones and air as Jin worries his knuckles.
“Stop it,” Kame pipes up from where he is sitting on the couch in Jin’s living room, spine curved, defeated. The younger man has his temple against one knee, dark stringy hair obscuring his eyes, the large collar of Jin’s old shirt falling off a shoulder.
“I asked, but I don’t think he took it well,” Jin shifts uneasily, on his knees at the end of the coffee table.
“I saw.”
Kame’s clavicles are sharp, defined in the evening by an elegant play of light and shadow, thrust forward like featherless wings. Jin thinks it is the most beautiful thing in Kame’s posture (and develops a strange urge to pin him down). Bare bones, their relationship has come down to this – speculation and second-guessing whittled away at their layers, the truth clean and unforgiving – difficult to accept and unreasonably harsh. Jin places one hand on Kame’s shoulder and feels him break, so he wraps the other around the man’s waist to hold him together.
They share a fitful sleep that night, but when Kame wakes up, there is a determined set to his narrow shoulders.
Jin draws his fingers across the spread of Kame’s collarbones once before he lets him go.
back to you
Kame finds him eating and drinking alone at the back of the restaurant.
The fuzz in Yamapi’s eyes disappears when he realizes Kame has laced their fingers together in a firm grip, hand warm, leading him through the entryway of his own apartment.
Too familiar is the voice that asks him if he would like a drink from the kitchen, Jin’s head hidden from sight by the door of the refrigerator.
Foreign is his voice that mumbles, No, thank you; I’ve already had some sake with Yamashita-kun.
Exactly like how it happened yesterday is how Yamapi reacts when Jin kisses him, again, his body tensing, a choked whimper escapes his throat. Except this time Kame is pressing against him from behind, trapping Yamapi’s hands in the hollow. Thumbs stroke the skin in circles, softly, in stark contrast to the hard dig of his knuckles into the small of Yamapi’s back as the man struggles.
Yamapi tries to buck them off as they pin him between their bodies, the flare of friction violently uncomfortable, but Kame has his elbows too and Jin has firm hands on his hips. They manhandle him into the bedroom, and when he is pulled and pushed onto Kame’s bed, Yamapi finally relents and stops struggling.
“Yamapi, please, listen,” Jin finally breaks the painful silence that followed, desperately burying his face into the crook of his neck.
“Stay with me. Jin. Us.”Kame breathes unevenly against the back of his ear, heartbeat wild against the ridge of Yamapi’s shoulder blade.
Yamapi unclenches his hands from where they are fisted in the sheets and lets his body sag against Kame’s, then brings a hand up to thread into Jin’s hair. He links the other hand with Kame’s, holding on tenderly yet like he will never let it go.
Kame believes he can afford to dream again.
Pairing: Jin/Kame/Yamapi
Rating: PG-13
Words: 817
Summary: Bones are the hardest things in the human body that holds it together, but it doesn’t take much to break them.
A/N: For
anamuan.crawl
Yamapi wants to grow up.
He wants to stop feeling like he’s taking baby steps towards a faraway dream. Made of shimmering images that shiver and shifts, its shape is indistinct. He dreams of them and of peace, but when Yamapi wakes up, only a vague trace of hope remains, distilled from the incoherency.
Yamapi wants to feel change creep across his skin, contours melting and molding into something new. He drags fingertips across his arm, skin prickling with the elusive warmth, trying to imagine what it would be like to crawl out of the vessel that holds him and turn it inside out – soak, rinse, wring, peg it up on a line. Would his skin be able to flutter with the breeze? He feels the weight of his feelings as they perch on his shoulder, digging sharp talons into his conscience.
As Yamapi steps under the rush of hot water, he wonders if he will still be the same when he puts it back on. Will it be a hardened dry shell that shatters under his touch, process irreversible? Maybe it will be a slip-slide with ease, fitting snugly with a leathery texture that is warm to the touch?
The hot water washes away the feel of Jin’s lips on his, and numbs the skin where his hands burn where Jin had held them.
my bones
The clavicle is one of the weakest bones in the human body, but it is also the most beautiful. Jin marvels in its creation – curved in an S (for sensitive), admiring its rise and fall, the mathematical grace in its simple concave and convex.
Bones are the hardest things in the human body that holds it together, but it doesn’t take much to break them. There is a crackle of bones and air as Jin worries his knuckles.
“Stop it,” Kame pipes up from where he is sitting on the couch in Jin’s living room, spine curved, defeated. The younger man has his temple against one knee, dark stringy hair obscuring his eyes, the large collar of Jin’s old shirt falling off a shoulder.
“I asked, but I don’t think he took it well,” Jin shifts uneasily, on his knees at the end of the coffee table.
“I saw.”
Kame’s clavicles are sharp, defined in the evening by an elegant play of light and shadow, thrust forward like featherless wings. Jin thinks it is the most beautiful thing in Kame’s posture (and develops a strange urge to pin him down). Bare bones, their relationship has come down to this – speculation and second-guessing whittled away at their layers, the truth clean and unforgiving – difficult to accept and unreasonably harsh. Jin places one hand on Kame’s shoulder and feels him break, so he wraps the other around the man’s waist to hold him together.
They share a fitful sleep that night, but when Kame wakes up, there is a determined set to his narrow shoulders.
Jin draws his fingers across the spread of Kame’s collarbones once before he lets him go.
back to you
Kame finds him eating and drinking alone at the back of the restaurant.
The fuzz in Yamapi’s eyes disappears when he realizes Kame has laced their fingers together in a firm grip, hand warm, leading him through the entryway of his own apartment.
Too familiar is the voice that asks him if he would like a drink from the kitchen, Jin’s head hidden from sight by the door of the refrigerator.
Foreign is his voice that mumbles, No, thank you; I’ve already had some sake with Yamashita-kun.
Exactly like how it happened yesterday is how Yamapi reacts when Jin kisses him, again, his body tensing, a choked whimper escapes his throat. Except this time Kame is pressing against him from behind, trapping Yamapi’s hands in the hollow. Thumbs stroke the skin in circles, softly, in stark contrast to the hard dig of his knuckles into the small of Yamapi’s back as the man struggles.
Yamapi tries to buck them off as they pin him between their bodies, the flare of friction violently uncomfortable, but Kame has his elbows too and Jin has firm hands on his hips. They manhandle him into the bedroom, and when he is pulled and pushed onto Kame’s bed, Yamapi finally relents and stops struggling.
“Yamapi, please, listen,” Jin finally breaks the painful silence that followed, desperately burying his face into the crook of his neck.
“Stay with me. Jin. Us.”Kame breathes unevenly against the back of his ear, heartbeat wild against the ridge of Yamapi’s shoulder blade.
Yamapi unclenches his hands from where they are fisted in the sheets and lets his body sag against Kame’s, then brings a hand up to thread into Jin’s hair. He links the other hand with Kame’s, holding on tenderly yet like he will never let it go.
Kame believes he can afford to dream again.
