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Damn, Mr. Cage is lucky I don't have sticky fingers anymore.
It's an idle thought, one that would never have come to mind so casually before now. But this is the first time that Kung Jin has seen the house- if it can even reasonably be called that- in Beverly Hills where Cassie grew up, and it’s…eye-opening, if nothing else. Experiencing such excess firsthand- being welcomed into it- is more jarring than he would have expected after years spent in the voluntary poverty of the Shaolin- and the not-so-voluntary poverty that came before that. If nothing else, it's certainly enlightening as to why Cassie is, well...Cassie- even if he has finally (and only a little grudgingly) admitted her to be a more than capable commander.
There was a time when it all would have made him seethe with resentment- the obvious adoration between her and her father as much as the abundance around them.
But no, that's really all behind him, even if he can still guess the street value of every trinket or bit of memorabilia on a shelf with just a glance. And it says something about how far he's come- and the company he keeps now- that it's something he can joke to himself without a rush of self-loathing- or maybe even aloud, without fear of judgment.
Still, he feels more than a little out of place here, even with his Shaolin attire folded in his suitcase and replaced with an old t-shirt and jeans. The stars above the back patio are barely visible compared with the view at the temple, but still decent company as he sits on the wooden stairs, fiddling absently with the end of his plait. He doesn't braid his hair often- something about the sight of it in the mirror reminds him a little too much of the faded painting of Kung Lao that hangs, shrine-like, in the temple- but a combination of his usual tight ponytail and Mr. Cage's incessant Christmas music had threatened to give him a bitch of a headache, and that's definitely not how he wants to end his night.
"Hey," comes a cheery, familiar voice, along with the sound of the sliding door opening. “Moping alone doesn’t suit you.”
Takeda has a steaming mug in each hand and his usual guileless smile on his face- the one that Jin never seems to be able to resist returning, even if it tends to look more wry on his own lips. He snorts to himself at the realization that Takeda had used his powers to open the door, but he supposes that’s more graceful than trying to do it with a foot- especially a foot wearing fuzzy fucking slippers like a little kid. (Undoubtedly borrowed from Mr. Cage, but only because Cassie's feet are too small.) He also has his jacket and scarf back on, and Jin raises a brow.
“You stopping here on your way to Siberia?”
Takeda laughs. “Hey, it’s my first Christmas in this country, but I’ve seen a lot of commercials and I believe I was promised snow.”
“In California?” Jin teases back, scooting over on the steps. “Sorry, I think Hallmark lied to you.”
“Fair enough.” He manages to sound only a little disappointed. Jin peers over at the mismatched coffee mugs in his hands.
“What’s that, tea?”
Takeda shakes his head, passing one mug to his companion and settling beside him. “Hot chocolate. I looked for tea but I don’t think Mr. Cage has any.”
That is far from a surprise. “I doubt Mr. Cage has much interest in any kind of tea that doesn’t start with “long island iced.” Takeda gives him a quizzical look, and he shakes his head. “Alcohol,” he clarifies shortly, receiving a hum of amused understanding in return.
They lapse into companionable silence for a moment, thighs pressed gently together from how close they’re sitting on the steps, and Jin takes a moment to breathe almost meditatively, taking in the sweet smell of cocoa in the crisp air and the sorely-missed presence of his closest friend. It feels like they’ve seen so little of each other in the months since Shinnok’s defeat, between Takeda’s return to the Shirai Ryu and his own diplomatic forays back to Outworld. It’s a good thing, he supposes, to know that their planet isn’t going to be taken over by evil zombies or demons for at least the foreseeable future, but a part of him misses when it was just the two of them, taking out assassins or monsters or whatever had encroached on their territory that day, getting to know each other in low voices over campfires or in cramped dark spaces at night. Life has never been easy or simple, not for him, but it seems to only grow more complicated.
To his credit, he at least manages to resist the urge to glance over at Takeda’s face, to trace the curve of his cheekbone or the subtle bow of his lips wrapped around the rim of his mug. He’s got a bit more subtlety in his hopeless torch-carrying than that, if not much.
“Thought you were heading out with Jacqui tonight,” he says to break the silence, before he says something much, much dumber.
Takeda shakes his head, pausing to finish sipping his cocoa before answering. “Nah. Tomorrow morning. She wanted a little time alone with her dad- it’s kind of a hard night for him, without her mom.” Jin makes a wordless noise of sympathy, and he chuckles awkwardly. “Maybe, uhh. Not the best time to meet me.”
"He's met you before," Jin points out with a frown. Takeda grimaces, fiddling with the cuff of his jacket the way that he always does when he's nervous.
"Well yeah, as part of Mr. Cage's Special Forces team. Not as Jacqui's boyfriend."
Jin doesn't envy him that particular conversation, but he still can't help but tease. "Afraid he's gonna kick your scrawny ass?" Takeda nudges Jin's knee with his own, not hard enough to spill the cocoa, but enough to make Jin's traitorous heart flutter like a character in whatever bad holiday romcom had featured that perfect blanket of snow.
"Hey, I feel like that's a reasonable fear," Takeda says, sheepish but good-natured as ever. "Self-preservation, y’know."
Chuckling, Jin shakes his head. “You’ll be fine, you’re prime bring-home-to-dad boyfriend material.” Not that Jin will ever know how that feels, but there’s little point in being envious about it. He wouldn’t want to subject any guy in his life to his parents anyway. Veering quickly away from that line of thinking, he grins and adds, “When are you gonna tell him that she's still kissing girls on the weekends?”
“When one sticks past Monday,” Takeda answers easily. “At that point maybe it’ll be his business. One thing at a time.”
That their relationship is open isn’t really Jin’s business either, but it’s also not a secret- they’ve spent too much time together as a unit to have many of those left, especially with a professional social media stalker like Cassie among them. “What about you? Any weekend ladies you wanna dish about?”
Takeda rolls his eyes, laughing. “Yeah right. It’s a miracle I ended up with one.”
Jin opens his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by more overly-cheery holiday music drifting through the still-cracked patio door, the volume seeming suddenly louder. “For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, “are they not sick of that yet?”
“I think it’s kinda fun,” Takeda shrugs, still chuckling. “It’s cute how into it they are.”
“You didn’t go to school in the States with a bunch of white kids who absolutely lost their minds every December,” Jin retorts sourly. “It loses its novelty pretty quickly, ‘specially when you’re not really part of it.”
“I guess.” There’s a thoughtful little smile on his face, and not for the first time, Jin envies his optimism, even as his chest tightens in a way he chooses to ignore. “I can’t really begrudge anybody something that makes them happy.” After a pause, he clarifies, “As long as it’s not hurting anybody.”
Jin chuckles. They’ve met more than a few people lately whose recreational pastimes were rather less harmless, so it could certainly be worse. “You can’t begrudge anybody a holiday that so thoroughly indulges your weird sweet tooth,” he teases back, deflecting almost as a reflex.
Takeda snorts. “Okay maybe that too.” But he’s turned now, studying Jin’s face the way Jin had tried to avoid studying his, the way that makes him feel oddly naked and vulnerable even when Takeda isn’t poking around inside his head. He quirks a curious brow. "What are you thinking about?"
Jin snorts. "Don't you know that without asking?" He expects a joke in return, the way they always talk to each other, but Takeda shakes his head, blowing idly on the steam from his cup.
"You don't like it when I do that." It's quiet and earnest, so much so that it makes whatever snarky reply Jin had planned feel out of place.
"I- no, not really," he manages lamely, before attempting to salvage some dignity. "All kinds of thoughts bouncing around in there," he says with a laugh that comes out strained. "Wouldn't want you to get lost." It's his prerogative not to mention that the main one now that they’re alone seems to be good to know that still no amount of anonymous dick has managed to erase the fact that I have a big, stupid crush on my probably hetero best friend- and believe me, I've tried.
Takeda seems to be waiting for him to say something, though certainly not that , so Jin sighs, setting his cup aside and leaning back on his elbows on the steps. “I dunno. I’m glad we averted the apocalypse and all that, but there’s still…there’s a lot to do.” There is no need for Takeda to read his mind to know what he’s thinking now- Takeda is the one that he calls on the days that his personal mission feels the most hopeless, the one to remind him that he, of all people, knows that those lost to darkness need not be lost for good. “Feels weird to just…hang around making cookies and acting like everything’s fine now.”
He thinks Takeda might laugh, but he doesn’t. “I get it. Being afraid an evil god is going to splatter you across the Jinsei chamber kind of puts being scared of your girlfriend’s dad into perspective. But I guess that’s why we all do this, right?” He’s watching the stars pensively, and Jin remembers how they looked swallowed up by bloody red. “The SF, the Shirai Ryu, the Shaolin… My dads. Your uncle, when he was...himself.” He glances at Jin then, but it’s reassuring, devoid of judgment or accusation. “So the rest of the world can keep living their lives without knowing how close all of this came to being gone.” He squeezes Jin’s knee, and Jin swallows, his mouth suddenly very dry. “It’s not a crime to live yours sometimes too. Maybe you should do more of it.”
“I guess.” Jin says wryly. Takeda isn’t wrong- he wasn’t always like this, but the strange restlessness left in him after Shinnok’s defeat has made him snap up every assignment offered to him, and kept him buried in research every remaining moment. He’s done some living- if not the kind Takeda needs to hear about- but that has started to feel oddly hollow too, just another thing to keep his mind and body too occupied to really look inward or unpack what he finds. It might not be bad to take a step back. “That why you guys dragged me over here?”
“Maybe,” Takeda replies, resting his own empty mug on the wood behind him. “I wasn’t sure if you’d show, though. Why’d you come?”
“You asked me to,” Jin admits with a shrug. “I missed everybody.” Mostly you, he thinks- hopefully not too loudly- but he keeps that part to himself.
But then Takeda murmurs, “I missed you too,” and it’s soft and strange and suddenly there’s very little distance between them. Jin laughs, oddly nervous.
“Well, maybe you should-” He’s still in the middle of a sentence when he processes Takeda’s lips on his, dexterous fingers tangling in the base of his braid. For a moment, he freezes- not in objection, never that, just shock and bewilderment- but then Takeda shifts as if he might pull away, as suddenly the only thing Jin can think is please don’t, please stay, if this is only gonna be this once then let’s make it count. So he leans in, one hand cupping Takeda’s jaw to tilt his head so they fit better, the other around his back, fist balled in the crinkly fabric of his jacket. Takeda’s mouth tastes of chocolate, like Jin’s must as well, and the needy little noise he makes as Jin’s tongue traces the seam of his lips and coaxes them open is worth whatever apologies Jin will have to make if this turns out to be a mistake.
They’re both breathing hard when they finally part, faces flushed, Takeda’s lips shining and entirely impossible for Jin not to stare at now. “Alright-” He manages after a moment of mental bluescreen. “What was that?”
“...Pretty sure it was a kiss,” Takeda says, and damn him, he’s still smiling like Jin’s world hasn’t done a flip and twisted his stomach into knots of hopeful confusion.
“Yeah, I got that part.” He doesn’t mean to sound so exasperated. “But why?”
“Because I’ve wanted to for a while now.” It’s plain as day, open and honest, and it takes Jin another moment to process. But before he can speak, Takeda holds up a hand. “Okay, so. Confession- the other reason I stayed here tonight is that Jacqui pushed me to talk to you.”
“If that was talking, then we’ve gotta talk more often,” Jin jokes, his heart still thumping in his throat, before he puts together the rest of what Takeda actually said. “Wait, Jacqui- so she’s, y’know. Okay with this?”
“‘Course she is,” Takeda says, voice remarkably even for how pink his cheeks and ears are. It’s cute, and Jin is seized with the urge to comb his shaggy hair aside to see them better- and fuck, maybe he could now- but he can wait for just a few more minutes. This is a conversation they need to finish. “Open goes both ways, Jin. The flip side of Jacqui wanting to keep seeing girls was that I…I liked you. And wanted to do something about it.”
“Then why didn’t you do it before now?” Jin blurts out, all tact entirely out the window.
“I didn’t think you were into me like that!” Takeda stammers back. “You- you hit on every guy we met but me!”
Jin doesn’t have a quip ready for that, and it takes a moment to be able to articulate the simple truth. “...You’re my best friend,” he says, suddenly quiet. “I ain’t got a lot of them, alright? And besides, I figured you were straight. So yeah, I liked you too, but I didn’t want to…screw this up, or make things weird.”
“I mean, I thought I was straight at one point too, but-” Letting out a breathless, incredulous laugh, Takeda buries his face in his hands. “Cass and Jacqui are going to call us idiots.”
“I’m going to call us idiots.” Jin shakes his head, before glancing back at the house in realization. “Wait, Cassie knew how you felt, too? Was everyone in on this except me?”
“Not on purpose!” Takeda explains hurriedly. “I learned the hard way that they tell each other everything, and that really means everything .” Before Jin can be tempted to pry into what other sordid secrets about Takeda that Jacqui has shared with her partner in crime, Takeda lets out another awkward laugh. “Her suggestion was that I hang some mistletoe and just go for it.”
Jin groans. “Fuck, of course it was. I knew she inherited her dad’s taste in awful movies, but I had no idea she wanted us to be in one so badly.” He does find himself wondering if the hours of music have been least partly to keep her dad occupied and give them privacy, and he makes a note to thank her for both that and and the headache later.
“I’m, uh,” Takeda rubs the back of his neck, eyes drifting to the red tie at the end of Jin’s braid rather than his face, “not gonna pretend I didn’t consider it for a minute. But that’s…” He trails off for a moment, considering what to say much more than he usually seems to, before looking back to Jin’s face with another of those soft little smiles. “I didn’t want to pull some dumb gimmick where you’d think I didn’t mean it. Because I really, really do.”
For a moment, Jin is struck dumb, overcome with affection for this ridiculous man who tells lame jokes and wears slippers and manages to stay sincere and kind even in the dangerous and deeply unfair place they both know the world to be. He’d put even the hope for this out of his mind months ago, and it takes a second of silence to slot it back into place, to let it tentatively bloom as he had never allowed it to before, like a persistent little flower peeking through the still nonexistent snow.
Maybe he can have this. Maybe he does deserve something that makes him this happy.
But he’s been quiet too long, and the corners of Takeda’s mouth have begun to droop, as though he’s afraid he said something wrong rather than the exact opposite. “Guess I’m lucky you’ve got two hands after all,” he responds with a smirk. He can’t fully turn off the irreverence, he never could, but he knows that Takeda can look in his eyes- or deeper if he wants, Jin wouldn’t mind, now that he doesn’t have so much to hide- and see that he wants this for real, too. “You’re gonna have to show me what you can do with them.”
Takeda raises a brow at that, grinning brightly. “That right? Well tonight they’re all yours, get over here.”
Jin snickers. “That a Shirai Ryu order, Takahashi?”
As Takeda realizes what he’s said, his ears flush pink again- and this time Jin does reach out to tuck a lock of hair behind one of them. It’s soft and fine when it’s not matted with blood and dirt and all the other mess they don’t have to deal with at least for now, and he can’t wait to get his hands into it for real. “Shut up, Jin.”
This game Jin can play, and the grin he offers back is all teeth and thrill and promise. “Make me.”
Jin has seen enough stupid romcoms of his own to know what comes next, but that doesn’t mean that Takeda leaning back in to kiss him again is any less of a happy ending.