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chineseinkChristmas Drabbles 2005
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yingfa89
Pairing: Jin/Kame [KAT-TUN]
Theme: wedding pics
キレイだ
Kirei Da
Pretty
“How come Kame gets to wear the dress?” It was clear that Akanishi Jin was upset because he had assumed his Pouting face and all cameras within a ten meter radius were attempting to make sure they didn’t miss the opportunity for a Cute Candid Shot. Fangirls would eat up those pictures, squealing all the while, and therefore magazines would pay a hefty price for said photos. A photographer had to know how to ensure his livelihood, after all, and which hand it was that fed him; in this case, one belonging to a sixty-year-old man who catered to rabid fifteen-year-old girls.
Jin obligingly crossed his arms and turned his best profile to the camera closest to him—a guy had to do what he could for the little people; they were so sweet—before continuing. “I mean, think about all the performances where I’m the one in the skirt. I make the skirt look good. It sells! So shouldn’t I be the one in the wedding dress?”
The director of the photo shoot looked pained, if the constipated look on his face was any indication. “Akanishi-kun,” he began wearily. “Please understand—“
“Stop whining, Jin!” interrupted Kame from his seat within a cloud of poofy white tulle. “You’re not the only one who can look good in a skirt!”
“But I have the legs for it!” Jin pointed out.
Kame snarled at him. “Are you implying that I don’t?” Gathering up as much material in his arms as was physically possible, he somehow managed to stand and stalk toward Jin. “I am girlier than you on any given day! Besides,” he added, gesturing at the full skirt and meters of material, “you can’t see my legs.”
This distracted Jin momentarily. He gave the long skirt a considering glance. “A shame,” he concluded, sounding a bit put out. “I like your legs.”
Kame stuck out a hip and put his hand on it, smirking. “I know you do,” he quipped back, eyes meeting the other boy’s as they shared a smile that was blatantly marked with much Secrecy and Shared History and Subjects on which the other occupants of the room (save the photographers who were really rather mercenary) Did Not Want to Know. At least not in graphic detail. Well, maybe some detail—Japan despite all its fame for raising morally-upright citizens in actuality only taught them how to hide their more sexual kinks (like voyeurism) behind a veneer of frigidity. It worked, for the most part, with the marked exception of the music industry where Western marketing strategies of using sex to sell had prevailed and to astounding success.
Sex and, evidently, cross-dressing, which brought back the matter at hand.
“You’re not even trying to make Kame-chan look appropriately girly,” Jin was now complaining, having been sufficiently distracted from his earlier tirade against Kame even wearing the dress in the first place. Now he demanded that if his partner be put in a frothy lace concoction, he at least look the part as so not to disgrace crossdressers everywhere—well, particularly in Japan, where the slender, pretty boys carried it off with certain aplomb like nowhere else in the world. “He just looks like a boy in a wedding dress!”
“That’s the look we’re trying to achieve,” the director tried to explain. “We still want both of you to be male. We’re targeting the yaoi fans, not the het fans!” He had given up on the more technical terms a long time ago as Jin had blinked at their usage before continuing his rant about Appropriate Typecasting During a Photoshoot.
Unfortunately, this change in vocabulary didn’t much affect Jin’s ranting prowess. He continued on, inserting various English words in at random (he’d been taking lessons with Jimmy Mackey recently and it was really rather interesting what he’d managed to learn), and the director cast a pained, pleading look at Kame. He knew what he would be getting in asking for Kame’s help but at this point, he was desperate.
Kame beamed at him and promptly snagged Jin, arms winding around his neck. He didn’t even have to stand on his tiptoes, he was pleased to discover, because of those white heels they’d forced on him to “make the outfit complete.” “Shut up, Bakanishi,” he ordered, grinning, and kissed Jin soundly.
It was on pain of death by both the director and Johnny himself (whose threats were far more effective, seeing as how they appeared to be promises more than anything else) that the photographers unwillingly, reluctantly burned those priceless negatives.
--
Posted: 12.19.2005
For:
yingfa89Pairing: Jin/Kame [KAT-TUN]
Theme: wedding pics
キレイだ
Kirei Da
Pretty
“How come Kame gets to wear the dress?” It was clear that Akanishi Jin was upset because he had assumed his Pouting face and all cameras within a ten meter radius were attempting to make sure they didn’t miss the opportunity for a Cute Candid Shot. Fangirls would eat up those pictures, squealing all the while, and therefore magazines would pay a hefty price for said photos. A photographer had to know how to ensure his livelihood, after all, and which hand it was that fed him; in this case, one belonging to a sixty-year-old man who catered to rabid fifteen-year-old girls.
Jin obligingly crossed his arms and turned his best profile to the camera closest to him—a guy had to do what he could for the little people; they were so sweet—before continuing. “I mean, think about all the performances where I’m the one in the skirt. I make the skirt look good. It sells! So shouldn’t I be the one in the wedding dress?”
The director of the photo shoot looked pained, if the constipated look on his face was any indication. “Akanishi-kun,” he began wearily. “Please understand—“
“Stop whining, Jin!” interrupted Kame from his seat within a cloud of poofy white tulle. “You’re not the only one who can look good in a skirt!”
“But I have the legs for it!” Jin pointed out.
Kame snarled at him. “Are you implying that I don’t?” Gathering up as much material in his arms as was physically possible, he somehow managed to stand and stalk toward Jin. “I am girlier than you on any given day! Besides,” he added, gesturing at the full skirt and meters of material, “you can’t see my legs.”
This distracted Jin momentarily. He gave the long skirt a considering glance. “A shame,” he concluded, sounding a bit put out. “I like your legs.”
Kame stuck out a hip and put his hand on it, smirking. “I know you do,” he quipped back, eyes meeting the other boy’s as they shared a smile that was blatantly marked with much Secrecy and Shared History and Subjects on which the other occupants of the room (save the photographers who were really rather mercenary) Did Not Want to Know. At least not in graphic detail. Well, maybe some detail—Japan despite all its fame for raising morally-upright citizens in actuality only taught them how to hide their more sexual kinks (like voyeurism) behind a veneer of frigidity. It worked, for the most part, with the marked exception of the music industry where Western marketing strategies of using sex to sell had prevailed and to astounding success.
Sex and, evidently, cross-dressing, which brought back the matter at hand.
“You’re not even trying to make Kame-chan look appropriately girly,” Jin was now complaining, having been sufficiently distracted from his earlier tirade against Kame even wearing the dress in the first place. Now he demanded that if his partner be put in a frothy lace concoction, he at least look the part as so not to disgrace crossdressers everywhere—well, particularly in Japan, where the slender, pretty boys carried it off with certain aplomb like nowhere else in the world. “He just looks like a boy in a wedding dress!”
“That’s the look we’re trying to achieve,” the director tried to explain. “We still want both of you to be male. We’re targeting the yaoi fans, not the het fans!” He had given up on the more technical terms a long time ago as Jin had blinked at their usage before continuing his rant about Appropriate Typecasting During a Photoshoot.
Unfortunately, this change in vocabulary didn’t much affect Jin’s ranting prowess. He continued on, inserting various English words in at random (he’d been taking lessons with Jimmy Mackey recently and it was really rather interesting what he’d managed to learn), and the director cast a pained, pleading look at Kame. He knew what he would be getting in asking for Kame’s help but at this point, he was desperate.
Kame beamed at him and promptly snagged Jin, arms winding around his neck. He didn’t even have to stand on his tiptoes, he was pleased to discover, because of those white heels they’d forced on him to “make the outfit complete.” “Shut up, Bakanishi,” he ordered, grinning, and kissed Jin soundly.
It was on pain of death by both the director and Johnny himself (whose threats were far more effective, seeing as how they appeared to be promises more than anything else) that the photographers unwillingly, reluctantly burned those priceless negatives.
--
Posted: 12.19.2005
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