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Jin felt himself stir awake slowly on the couch at a creak of the door nearby him, hearing light footsteps brushing against rugged tile. He blinked once, twice, a sense of alertness flooding his system, tainted by a prick of annoyance at how fatigued his whole body fared, and confusion. He could sense another presence; a human one.
Said presence made their way behind the couch in languid strides, with Jin really having nothing left to do but hold his breath and close his eyes in a desperate attempt to seem invisible. He didn’t have anything around him that he could necessarily use as a weapon, and his mind was muddled with a dazed feeling still. His thoughts raced, continuously cursing himself out for not realizing the dangerous implications of an abandoned building, and how anyone could really just walk into those.
The presence made their way to the front of the couch and settled themself onto the empty space in the couch beside Jin’s legs which were tucked into the blanket.
Jin, confused, opened one eye, snuck a peek, and immediately felt any frightful feelings he harbored dissipate (with a small replacement of feeling stupid rushing through him).
It’s just Takaya.
He then felt something akin to extreme amounts of worry, desperately pushed it down, and just stared.
This was abnormal.
Takaya, sitting by him, with zero words spoken. Staring off into space; not even looking at Jin, simply enveloping in Jin’s presence, uninvited, but certainly not unwelcome.
Did something happen? Jin thought, loosely biting down on his tongue. Should I say something? Where was he?
It wasn’t unusual for any of the Strega members to just up and wander off in the middle of the night, Jin hazily recalled with a tinge of embarrassment. But why Takaya decided to sit here, instead of just wordlessly going to his room like usual, Jin couldn’t quite understand. Thoughts of “what could have possibly happened?” rapidly flicked through doubts of “it’s not any of my business” and Jin found himself annoyingly squeezing his eyes shut.
Yeah, it was none of his business. He would never find himself in a situation, could never envision such a situation either, where he’d object to Takaya, where he’d question anything Takaya does. It wasn’t any of his business, and Takaya was a presence he consistently encouraged to be by his side, so the situation at hand shouldn’t be a problem. But he felt weird. Off.
He tugged and pushed at his worries and continued to remain silent, before feeling that piercing yellow gaze upon his own frame.
“Jin,” was all Takaya said. A short statement, simply just his name, but one that struck Jin regardless. It felt like he was beckoning Jin to share the spiral of thoughts in his mind. Like he knew Jin was flipping through concerns upon unspoken concerns. Like he wanted Jin to share the worries that scared him, that whittled away at Takaya’s disdain toward attachment, toward his ideals. Like he wanted to indulge in these pressing feelings Jin held.
And even if Jin was entirely wrong, he would do just that.
Takaya was unpredictable. There were small moments like these where Jin felt completely stunned, unsure of how to react. Caught off guard. Takaya never usually did this.
The whole situation flooded Jin with a beautiful kind of panic.
“Takaya,” Jin spoke in a breathless tone, hastily shoving the blankets off of his chest and sitting upwards to stare at him with wide eyes. “Where were ya? Ya scared me…” He winced a bit at how groggy his tone was.
“Out in the Dark Hour, of course.” Takaya shot him a narrowed glance. “Is something the matter?”
Fuck it if he was overexaggerating it. If he was wrong. If it was maybe the bewilderment from suddenly being woken up. If he was selfish. Even though Takaya’s response was so in-character, exactly like him to give him a simple, short answer to his question, Jin felt something was off. Like Takaya wanted to defend himself from all the fears of an emotional world, but couldn’t resist this small little indulge.
A cry, albeit heavily shadowed.
Jin turned his gaze away, “Well-”
“There is hardly anything to worry about, Jin.”
“But-”
Jin swallowed a squeak as Takaya began to lean over him, into his space, his eyes swirling with something Jin couldn’t quite define. Jin fought between gracefully leaning forward, or nervously leaning back, and opted to stay still.
“Do you typically feel this way?”
“T-This way?” Jin’s mouth was agape, and he could only feel that his night was about to get a lot more confusing. He wanted to deflect the question, pinpricks of familiarity warning him how revealing too much may just unsettle Takaya, or better yet, earn him a long speech. But at the same time, Jin wanted to indulge. He wanted it more than anything. “Like… worried about you at… night…?” His voice came across shakily.
Takaya, persistent, continued to lean into his space, his face lowered to Jin’s now. Jin could feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Yes. I don’t understand.”
Jin felt as if Takaya’s eyes were studying his entire being to burn into his memory. He felt watched, absorbed, and he probably should have been unsettled by it, but he was far from it.
Jin realized he hadn’t answered Takaya’s question, and was just staring at him with his jaw still agape.
Takaya, impatient, replied once more, “You are aware I return each time. You are aware of what would happen if I didn’t, yes?”
If there was anything in the world that Jin didn’t want to think about, it was that. He frantically nodded.
Takaya’s gaze never left him. “And here you are, on the couch, waiting for me.”
Jin knew he couldn’t refute Takaya. Wouldn’t even try, as much as it flustered him. He wanted to say he just preferred the couch. That he always fell asleep on the couch, for totally unrelated reasons.
That he just unconsciously fell asleep on it tonight, for again, totally unrelated reasons. But he wouldn’t lie. Not to Takaya.
Even if he did lie, even if he wanted to, he was sure Takaya would somehow uncover it on the spot.
Jin felt light hands wrap around his arms, and he immediately felt himself snap out of his thoughts. Takaya gently pulled him forward and Jin, frazzled, but not missing the obvious cue, pulled himself with. Their bodies were even closer together now, with Jin’s freezing body temperature slowly oozing into a more relaxed one, unlike his brain right now. His chest rested on Takaya’s legs, which were now crossed, his arms lifted by Takaya’s hands and his face thus close to Takaya’s own once more.
Takaya continued to stare through him, searching for something. Like he didn’t know Jin through and through.
Jin felt himself fluster even more, especially with the more intimate body contact. He looked away, and stuttered, “I just wanted to see to it that ya got home safe, that’s all.” He swallowed. “We have things we must see till the end.” It was true, in a way. It was all Jin could manage to clumisly come up with, but still true.
Jin felt one of his arms languidly fall down for Takaya’s hand to rest on Jin’s chin instead, tugging at him to look his way. Jin would swear that something was off again. That Takaya’s touch held the slightest hint of hesitance, of a frightened intrigue. That he could sense it. Sense something.
He locked eyes with Takaya’s.
“It doesn’t benefit you in any way to wait for me, does it, Jin? How many hours of your sleep did you push back?”
“Just a few, is all.” He felt the heat of Takaya’s fingers against his cheeks as he spoke.
Takaya made a sound akin to a “tsk”. Jin winced.
“It won’t fare well for you to toss aside your health for others. I can handle my own, and you know this very well.” Takaya’s eyes felt scrutinizing, but Jin wouldn’t shy away; couldn’t, really.
“You’ve always been like this, haven’t you?”
A tinge of shame. “Ya know me well.”
Takaya moved Jin’s chin slightly upwards, like he was inspecting him.
“Hmm.”
“It doesn’t mean anything, really…” Jin tried his hardest to express his feelings in a way that wouldn’t be too revealing of his emotion. “Was just waiting, is all…”
“There’s no need.” Takaya continued to move Jin’s face further to the side. Like he was bored, and just needed his hands on something. Jin simply let him. “But I suppose I can’t stop you.”
You can. Jin thought immediately. He then blurted, “You’ve never said anything until now.”
Takaya’s gaze narrowed once more, and Jin wished he could shrink into something and jump forward at the exact same time.
“I m-mean,” Jin mumbled, feeling one of Takaya’s fingers drum lightly against his face, intrigued. “Did something, uh, happen?”
“Happen?”
“Like… out there?”
“What do you think could have happened?” a small smirk formed on Takaya’s face. Like he knew exactly what Jin meant, exactly how Jin felt about this whole abnormal situation, and expected him to share those embarrassing thoughts word-for-word.
As if he was challenging Jin to act on something. Whether it be his thoughts, his feelings, or the evergrowing, constant attachment that was always so difficult for Jin to hide away, no matter how much he might rephrase something.
“I don’t know…” If his face wasn’t in Takaya’s hands, he’d be shaking his head dejectedly. “...Anything.”
Takaya sighed, and Jin felt that familiar heat of embarrassment again. “What will I ever do with you, Jin?” He slowly let go of Jin’s face and Jin, realizing he quite literally was letting Takaya handle any of his weight, felt his head drop onto Takaya’s lap.
Jin’s face grew even more red. Takaya chuckled, lowering his head to deliver a kiss to the completely unsuspecting Jin’s head. Jin, dazed, like he was on some sort of autopilot, began to lift his head immediately. To reciprocate, to exclaim, to stare, he wouldn’t know. Takaya’s hand swiftly pressed back onto Jin’s neck, moving him back into his previous place, earning a small disheveled noise from Jin.
It was as if he wanted Jin near him. Both of them on the bridge between something further; their bodies close to each other, but halted by the fear of what might come of this indulgence. What they both might feel as a result of escalating it even further.
At least, that was the conclusion that Jin would come to. The something that was off.
Jin, who was excited to do anything; who, even with his mind a mess of completely confusing feelings, would jump to this opportunity in a heartbeat, and even tried. Takaya, held back by a fear he’s known to kindle, one he’s grown up with his whole life. Takaya, who would let his feelings slip just this once, in this instance, at this night.
Jin felt he could go crazy from just the hand that still enveloped his neck. The palm that burned safety and comfort and trust into his skin.
Takaya would just chuckle again, his gaze enveloping Jin’s whole figure once more before lifting his hand away and moving both of his hands to Jin’s face again. Lifting his face upwards, relishing in Jin’s immediate compliance to stay still, and placing Jin’s head onto the cushion behind them. Jin didn’t say a word, his eyes beaming with an emotion he couldn’t quite explain and remaining completely locked onto Takaya’s entire being.
Takaya stood up, rewarded Jin with one more fleeting glance, and walked away. Nothing was spoken between them.
Jin would think of this later. He would relive the moment in his head, replay it over and over. Analyze it even. Stress about it. Wonder about it. Recreate scenarios of what might have happened after. What might have happened if he said something different. He would go over it again and again.
But for now, he was content with focusing on the feelings Takaya's hands left behind on his skin. He would think about the rest tomorrow.