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[personal profile] isolated_killer
Title: The Traitor and the Dream Follower
Pairing: a traitor and a dream follower
Summary: Sometimes, people just need sleep.

The fingers buried under the airplane’s dark-blue blanket are squeezing the hem of the black velvet jacket as their owner soundlessly sleeps in his seat. His pose seems uncomfortable and some energetic kid that sits beside him keeps turning around as his small DS lies forgotten on the floor when he presses his nose against the window; yet the slumber in which the young man has fallen is too deep and positively dreamless to notice anything that happens around him. He’s been too tired these days, months, probably, years, and the lack of rest mercilessly shows on his face.
Let him sleep, yet, a mother whispers to her fidgety child, silently staring at the familiar features of her long-dated crush. It has been three years and four months since she has taken a liking to that boy band and now, when the group’s lost one member, she’s a little disappointed. Because it means that the stylish and unreachable world of popularity and idols has its own problems and outcasts just like any other reality does.
But the woman, already not young, yet not really old, has to frown disapprovingly and lose her trail of thought when the stewardess suddenly appears out of nowhere to tell that they're soon going to land. She leans unnecessarily close to the idol and gently shakes him by his shoulder; in her vision though, the lean and small feminine hand turns into an ugly shovel that tries to wake the deadly tired guy by giving him a box on the ear. He’s woken, his eyebags make both the stewardess and woman inwardly cringe, yet he embarrassedly smiles in gratitude and they’re both dazzled; that is not a part of his work, it’s his natural weary beauty. Even though he seriously doesn’t look his best at the moment.
He shyly thanks the girl who carefully suggests him a glass of water and he very politely but firmly rejects her, indicating that he wants her to leave, which she does without a single word uttered. He mumbles something about damn flights and stupid sleeping pills and starts to fidget in his seat, adjusting the clothes under the blanket and moving forward to get his small bag from under the front seat. At some point, he catches the sitting next to him woman’s glance and smiles at her, saying something about her fidgety son; she doesn’t hear him, she’s too far gone, remembering how she has once hoped to marry him. The ultimate embarrassment takes over her and she’s flustered, thinking that wishing for something like that was stupid.
Because this man can only co-exist with someone who can be on the same wave with him.
♪ ♪
Jin is standing in the doorpost of his hotel’s bedroom, silently examining the body that lies on his messed up blankets. He nervously licks his lips and, with quite a difficulty, gulps down the lump in his throat. He’s here. He knows it, he has been told and he has noticed an unpacked suitcase at the door; he has even stumbled over it in his hurried steps to see if that wasn’t a joke.
It really wasn’t. Having fallen right under an opened window, dressed only in his navy blue briefs and wrinkled flannel shirt, Kazuya is sprawled over his bed, face down, snoring into the pillow, as if in effort of inhaling someone’s missed scent. Curtains of common pastel color waver when the chilly wind sneaks through the opened sash and the seeming to be dead awkward body shivers and gropes for any kind of cover; instead, the sleepy guy unexpectedly reaches for a hand that grabs his pale one, squeezing it among the sunburned fingers, pressing it into someone’s chapped lips.
Kazuya hears a distinct sniff and cough that totally gives the other out; the older man is trying so hard to suppress the tears. At this moment, at last Kazuya can relax, his heavy limbs feeling as if leaden and he smiles sleepily, mumbling something about how stupid Jin is and nudging the emotional boy with his heel. One moment of lost warmth and loudly echoing sounds of opening zippers and tinkling belt buckle and Jin is back into the bed; the man pushes Kame further into the sheets, quickly attaching his chest to the guy’s back, his janji pendent slightly hitting him on a random bruise on his shoulder-blade. Kazuya cringes and elbows Jin, yet it doesn’t stop the man’s hands from messing his locks fiddling with the new unseen hairdo. It doesn’t stop the lips either, as they try out the taste of his neck, slowly and carefully as if afraid that his senses have forgotten the original.
Jin doesn’t mind the next rough move when Kazuya grabs him by his hair, pulling at it, annoyed that the now short curls tickle him. Jin enjoys the way Kazuya sighs exasperatedly and turns around, his barely opened eyes too sleepy to comprehend what’s going on at the moment. Jin’s lips stretch in a huge goofy smile as he animatedly undresses the flannel shirt off of his lover and in a series of small tags, pulls his briefs away.
They’re both too tired for even thinking anything even distinctly perverted as Kazuya falls asleep almost immediately with Jin’s taste in his mouth, and Jin starts snoring into Kazuya’s chest, the boy’s waist squeezed in a death-grip between his hands.
The traitor and the dream follower can talk later. Now, they’re just two people in love who want to sleep.

---
It just might be continued)
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