Chapter Text
I don't know if we should be alone togetherI still got a crush, that's obviousIf nobody's around, what's stopping us?
-“Single”, The Neighbourhood
Kenshi drops on his sofa just in time to watch the beginning of the show. He’s not usually one for talk shows and the sort, but tonight he chose to make an exception – not that he really had much of a choice to begin with, Johnny wouldn’t let him live if he missed it.
And so, here he is, sitting in front of his TV at half past ten with a bottle of beer and a slice of leftover pizza from last night’s dinner with Johnny. Kenshi didn’t expect it at first, but the man is obsessed with pizza: were it for Johnny, he’d eat pizza and only pizza for the rest of his life. And now, as he revives their night together in his head, Kenshi finds himself chuckling with a light headshake.
“There’s just so much variety – why should I look elsewhere? Fan of the classics? Check, New-York style. Lactose intolerant? No cheese pizza. Hate tomatoes? No sauce pizza. Craving meat? There you go, sausage and pepperoni. Want some veggies? Sure, why not. Hawaii aficionado? There’s one with ham and pineapple ready for you!”
“You know this is exactly the kind of pitch a middle-schooler would use, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s effective!”
Kenshi opens the bottle and takes a sip of beer as the credits of Late Night with Nitara Vaeternus start rolling on screen. It’s an important show, probably the most successful of its kind lately, and when Vaeternus invited Johnny there to discuss Sento, well, Kenshi knew he’d jump on the occasion.
The book is scheduled for release three weeks from now, and the last month has been a blur of PR press releases and interviews and panels for Johnny – and, according to him, this is just the beginning. He seemed tired only by thinking about it, Kenshi noticed, but knowing Johnny, he’d still put on his most charming smile and step into the limelight to do one of the things he does best: charm people.
Nitara Vaeternus is a bit of a wild card, as far as Kenshi’s aware. Her late-night shows have acquired popularity for the various comedy sketches and musical bits in which guests show themselves off, but its most prominent feature is Nitara’s interviews.
The woman is well known for not shying away from divisive questions and topics, often revolving around scandals and gossips or something juicy about her guest’s careers and private lives; once Kenshi read someone comparing her to a vampire, sucking life and dignity and secrets out of her guests to let her show thrive, and Kenshi must admit it’s pretty accurate.
It’s a double-edged sword, the wrong answer to a question could potentially cause a mediatic avalanche and end a career, but it also pays off in terms of attention and online resonance – the day after the new episode of the show airs, social media are literally flooded with posts and videos and comments on the interviews. And, according to Cristina, this is exactly what they need to create even more hype around the book.
Kenshi, however, was more dubious about the whole thing, and frankly, he still is. The first red flag was when Johnny received the official offer to appear on the show, and it was directed to him and Kenshi. TMZ had already published some stuff and paparazzi pictures of them, and people had started recognizing Kenshi on the streets – not too many, just a handful, but it was a shocker for him either way.
Johnny’s fans started getting interested in him ever since Sento was announced, and Kenshi’s already scarce online presence and private social media have been flooded with new followers, messages and friendship requests he promptly shut down.
A few weeks ago, Johnny showed him some fanfictions about them, and they were… definitely not chaste. Kenshi can only imagine how it’s going to be when the book finally comes out – and yes, Agent Patrick was right when he said fans would lose their minds over that brawl scene; Kenshi himself had to down a glass of liquor once he was done.
He recalls telling Johnny that Vaeternus wanted to have them both on the show to maximize their gossip potential, see how they interacted with each other and make assumptions, fueling the interest people have already begun showing, and Johnny agreed with him. Nitara knows how to do her job and make sure people talk about her show; even though being there together would surely help advertise the book, they both drew the line at that.
So, they decided Johnny would attend alone, while Kenshi watched from the comfort of his own home. The show is live, so there’s going to be no recorded tape or editing or chance to take back what’s been said – it’s one of the things that make Nitara’s show so popular: her show is spontaneous, sincere, and there’s no way to show oneself for something they’re not.
Kenshi is not worried about Johnny himself, he’s a pro at dealing with people and he’ll do just fine, but… Well, Nitara’s questions are another can of worms, and a filthy one at that.
Kenshi watches as the band in the studio finishes playing the jazzy opening tune, and a recorded voice announces Nitara’s entrance on stage. When she steps out, she’s smiling charmingly and greeting her audience with a sleek manicured hand, swaying her hips as she reaches the center of the stage.
She’s dressed in a red leather suit, her jacket left open on her torso to reveal a spiked black bralette matching her stiletto heels; her auburn hair is loose on her shoulders, and her blue eyes pop thanks to the nude makeup on her face.
She’s an incredibly attractive woman, there’s no use in denying the obvious, but she’s hiding a predatory stance behind those seductive mannerisms, like a siren ready to strike after seducing a helpless sailor. Kenshi thinks back to the vampire comparison, and she does remind him of one of Dracula’s brides, after all.
“Welcome, everyone, welcome back to the show!” she chirps, gifting smiles and giggles at her audience as she scans the crowd behind the cameras, “I’m Nitara Vaeternus and I’m here with my amazing band to keep you company for a few hours of fun, music and chats with friends. Tonight, we have many surprises in store for you, starting from our musical guest, our favorite rock demon, Sareena!”
As the audience cheers and Nitara presents some other guests, Kenshi takes a bite off his pizza and checks his phone. He pulls up Johnny’s chat and types in a message, hitting the send button before he can stop himself.
KT: You didn’t tell me Sareena would be there tonight. Didn’t you go to her L.A. show last year?
He doesn’t even know if Johnny has his phone with him right now, maybe it’s not even allowed backstage – but it’s okay, Kenshi knows he’ll text him back as soon as he can. However, no worries are necessary, because Johnny’s reply comes in after a handful of seconds.
JC: best concert ever. don’t tell me u’re jelly?
Kenshi snorts and types in as Nitara talks about a guest’s upcoming movie – he has no idea which one, he couldn’t care less right now.
KT: Stop texting like a high-schooler, Cage.
JC: you crank
Kenshi is about to put his phone down when another text comes in, making his heart skip a beat.
JC: btw production gifted me two tickets for her next L.A. show; u’re coming with me and we’re going together
KT: Oh, are we now?
JC: ofc. wouldn’t want my Kendoll to stay mad at me for too long
JC: gotta go now, they’re prettying me up with makeup. i’m calling u when the whole thing’s over – don’t u dare not watch, u gotta tell me if my hair looked nice
Kenshi shakes his head with a soft chuckle, then he puts his phone down and focuses once again on the television, where Nitara is still talking about some of her guests.
He tries to ignore the way his stomach twists at the thought of Johnny, how he feels giddy and eager at the mere idea of attending a concert together – and he doesn’t even like Sareena, nor the kind of music she does. And yet… He’s attending with Johnny, and that’s enough.
It shouldn’t be, Kenshi. It shouldn’t be, you’re getting too attached.
“Finally, we’ll end tonight’s episode with one of the most awaited guests: best-selling author, tabloid superstar, is there anything this man can’t do?” Nitara asks, laughing when the audience in the studio cheers for her and the newly announced guest. “Stay tuned to find out, because tonight we have the pleasure of hosting Mr. Hot Shot himself, Johnny Cage!”
Kenshi can’t help but pulling a face at that and the ensuing clamor. Why all that noise? He bets Johnny is soaking it in, reeling in the way the people call for him and shout his name at the top of their lungs, and he also bets Johnny’s going home with his pockets full of phone numbers and requests to call me back xoxo.
The thought has Kenshi scowl, annoyed. What is this feeling? Jealousy? Kenshi would rather not acknowledge what he’s feeling – and he won’t, that’s why he downs half his bottle of beer in two consecutive jugs.
The show starts after a brief commercial break, and Kenshi watches it progress with boredom and some mild annoyance. He doesn’t like Nitara, he doesn’t appreciate the way she seems to be able to coax everything and anything out of her guests, only to turn it against them for the sake of audience and mediatic success; however, he must admit she’s really good at her job… And this makes him even more worried about Johnny.
“And now, time has come our last guest of the night!” Nitara announces when there’s more or less half an hour left before the show ends. She’s smiling at the camera as if she was trying to lure her audience in, inviting everyone somewhere more private and secluded. Kenshi is not ashamed to admit he hates it – and, maybe, also her. “You already know him for his best-selling books, but let’s be real: could he be famous just because of that? Nah, of course not. And so, welcome Mr. International Love, the King of Flirts… The one and only, Johnny Cage!”
The audience cheers loudly, and Kenshi finds himself holding his breath as Johnny steps out from backstage, channeling one of his blinding smiles towards the people in front of him. He’s charming, he always is, but now more than ever, as he greets his fans waving his hands and grinning, even winking from above the rim of his sunglasses. Judging from the laughter and tiny screams coming from the people in that studio, his little antics must be successful.
Johnny’s wearing a purple shirt with a pattern of dots in a darker shade – Kenshi recognizes it, they’ve bought it together a few weeks ago, while searching for a gift for Raiden’s birthday – together with tailored black jacket and slacks, brown leather shoes and a matching belt with a silver-plate buckle. He’s wearing his watch too (“This is not a basic-ass watch, Kendoll. This is a white-dialed Omega Speedmaster ‘57, do your research!”) together with the silver bracelet Cassie gifted him for Christmas on his left hand, and his signet ring on his right.
The final touch, a steady presence when it comes to Johnny, are his shades, currently sitting on the man’s nose low enough to let his eyes show. At first Kenshi thought he always wore sunglasses, even inside, just because he was a douchebag, but now he knows they’re a fundamental part of Johnny’s carefully constructed persona – sort of a magic armor, if you will. Whenever he’s wearing them, he’s Johnny Cage: untouchable, cocky and so sure of himself and everything he does; he’s the man Kenshi wanted to punch when he first questioned him on the Tisdale case.
But now it’s different. Now Kenshi knows that man is not the real Johnny, just a fragment of him enhanced to the point of seeming whole. Now Kenshi has learned to see past his brazen mask, and he can tell whenever Johnny’s being sincere or acting. Now Kenshi knows that, whenever Johnny’s without his shades, he’s willing to show himself as he is, vulnerable and human.
It’s been months since Johnny stopped wearing them around Kenshi.
“Johnny, welcome to the show!” Nitara greets him, exchanging a shallow hug with him and kissing his cheeks. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for having me,” Johnny replies as they take their respective seats.
He plops down on his armchair, crossing his legs the moment he’s comfortable in it, and Kenshi watches Nitara smile at him, leaning discretely into his space to caress his arm. She’s done it with other guests before, it’s not a first; however, Kenshi doesn’t remember his blood boil as it is doing now.
Nitara laughs, coy and complicit, “How couldn’t we? You’re on everyone’s lips these days, for one reason or another… Murders seem to be pretty appealing, isn't it?”
“Indeed, and my wallet is extremely grateful for that,” Johnny jokes, “You see, there are two kinds of folks who sit around thinking about how to kill people: psychopaths and mystery writers. I’m the kind that pays better.”
The audience chuckles with him, and Nitara imitates them, but her attention is all on Johnny.
“So, how’s life going after you said goodbye to Kurtis Stryker?”
Johnny huffs with a grin and a small shrug.
“It’s going great! Honestly, I couldn’t be happier about it, I’m doing lots of cool stuff, writing even cooler things… I sort of had to take a leap of faith, but it paid off in the end.”
“I see… But was it hard, though? Saying goodbye to someone whom you’ve spent so many years with – and who made you famous too,” Nitara asks, and Johnny nods with a soft smile.
“Yeah, it wasn’t easy. Kurtis is and forever will be a huge part of my life, an important one. I don’t know if I’d be here, the way I am, without him,” Johnny explains, and Kenshi smiles in feeling the honest affection in his voice. “But I had come to a point where I felt like his story was already all out there, done; I felt like there wasn’t much left to say, and there would be even less after another book, so… Yeah. Time to say goodbye.”
“Mmh, so you’re saying you had run out of inspiration,” Nitara teases with a cat-like smirk, “A little bird told me you went through a hard time after Firebreak.”
Johnny chuckles, apparently unbothered. He’ll never admit it on camera, Cristina would kill him, but Kenshi knows the truth: Johnny did go through the worst writing slump ever, and he confessed that only the Tisdale affair managed to pull him out of there, thanks to the inspiration for Sento – which means, thanks to his collaboration with Kenshi, even if Johnny only implied it.
“I’m afraid your little bird barked up the wrong tree, Nitara. I admit I did take some time off, but it was just to recharge batteries and come back to writing readier than ever.”
“Which leads me to this new book of yours, Sento! Sounds like you've got something big in your hands, uh?”
Kenshi feels a pang in his chest when Johnny beams on screen at the mere mention of Sento, like a child on Christmas day. There was a time when he would’ve found his enthusiasm vexing, but it feels so distant now, so alien to their present. Now Kenshi feels nothing but deep affection for that man on screen, and… And it scares him. The more he thinks about it, about his feelings for Johnny, the more he finds himself terrified of their nature, not to mention their intensity.
And the scariest part of all is that it doesn’t seem to be one-sided.
“It definitely is, I confirm – and it’s about to get even bigger,” Johnny claims, proud and happy. Kenshi’s lips curl in a twin smile, but it’s short-lived: a single look at Nitara’s focused expression, at the predatory gleam in her blue eyes, is enough to dampen his good spirits.
“Oh, is it?”
“Yeah! The book comes out in three weeks, but I was informed there’ve already been some offers for on-screen adaptations, it’s in the talks. And book two is already under work, so it’s one hundred percent getting bigger,” Johnny says, smiling at the audience and making a heart sign with his hands when they cheer at him. Nitara, however, hasn’t averted her eyes from him.
“I suppose the second book of the series will still follow the same characters introduced in the first?”
“Yep, that would be correct.”
“Awesome. And in this regard – come on, spoil us with a little something, won’t you? We’re all dying to meet your new characters and read their adventures, aren’t we?” Nitara asks the audience, and the cheer only gets louder. Johnny chuckles with a nod, but Kenshi doesn’t like where the conversation is headed. And he likes even less Vaeternus and her smug smirk.
“Sure, fine! So, our new hero is called Nick Sento, and he’s a homicide detective working for the police – whereas Stryker was a P.I.,” Johnny explains, apparently unaware of the trap he’s falling into, “He’s not exactly the most cheerful person you’ll ever met, but he’s loyal, and brave, and he can count on the support of his colleagues, whose storylines will be explored throughout the saga as well.”
“Right – but they’re not one-hundred percent fictional, aren’t they?” Nitara asks, and Johnny catches on. It’s almost imperceptible, but the way his smirk turns more forced is as bright as day for those who know him well. And Kenshi doesn’t miss.
“They aren’t, exactly. I had the luck and honor of being able to work side by side with some amazing professionals, who’ve allowed me to get well acquainted with their job. Naturally, I had to base my characters on them, starting from Nick,” Johnny explains, and Nitara clicks her tongue with a grin.
“And this is right where I wanted you: your muse!” she chirps, “I admit I kinda expected you to bring him along tonight, this real-life Nick Sento. We had extended the invitation to him as well – couldn’t he make it?”
Johnny hasn't lost his composure, nor his charming grin, but Kenshi spots a newfound tension in his shoulders.
“Well, you know, he's an actual detective, so… We thought it'd be better for his line of work not to appear on television,” Johnny explains, then he leans towards Nitara and adds, almost conspiratorially, “Besides, he's quite camera shy.”
“Ah, really? He seemed at ease in those pictures online,” Nitara teases, and Johnny chuckles, masking his annoyance with coyness.
“Paparazzi are gifted with the impressive ability to make anything and everything look natural.”
“I see… Is it the same for your relationship?”
Kenshi stiffens at the question. They did expect some jabs and innuendos, but he didn't think she'd address the matter so openly. However, he must've been naive, because Johnny seems ready for battle, as if he’s come prepared for this. He's still smiling, his head tilted to one side in what Kenshi recognizes to be mock confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you seem pretty close in all those pictures, and Sento and Bowen themselves do have some lovey-dovey innuendos going on in the book,” Nitara presses. “They’re the characters based on you two, aren’t they? Makes me wonder how much of that is true.”
Kenshi’s heart is hammering against his ribs, and he finds himself leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Johnny and Nitara are staring at each other, and Kenshi really has no idea what could happen now.
Johnny is clever, and his silver tongue is legendary – they've profited of it many times during cases; but Nitara is just as smart, and she's experienced in squeezing information and gossip out of her guests. It's a battle Johnny could win, but also lose quite easily. It all depends on what he's about to say now.
Johnny straightens and smiles, taking off his glasses to polish the lenses with the hem of his jacket.
“You see… There's one thing Real-Life Sento, as you've called him, always tells me, and I've come to the conclusion he might be right – not just about me, though, it's a general feeling when it comes to my line of work.”
“Which would be?”
Johnny barely glances up, but the look he gives Nitara is piercing either way.
“That reality and fiction get often, way too often, mixed up. But truth is, the two things don't necessarily coincide, no matter what you read on magazines, online articles, social media... books.” Johnny puts his glasses back on and smiles cheerfully at Nitara. “We're good friends, and we've gotten pretty close since we started collaborating – it came naturally, working side by side for almost two years.”
“Friends? That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Johnny confirms, and Kenshi feels something unpleasant coil in his stomach. And when Johnny lowers his glasses down his nose, grinning mischievously at Nitara, the feeling only worsens. “Why are you so keen on finding out? Don’t tell me you’re interested.”
The audience gasps, there are chuckles and oohs mixing with whistles and other cheering sounds that make Kenshi’s blood boil. Is he actually flirting with her? For real? Maybe it’s a tactic, maybe it’s just to divert the focus from them – but for fuck’s sake, was it necessary?
One of Kenshi’s fists closes around the beer bottle hard enough to whiten its knuckles, and his jaw is so clenched he might crack a tooth. Even if it’s a tactic… God, he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want this to happen.
Nitara raises a brow and leans forward, mirroring Johnny’s smile with her head tilted to the side.
“I might… But are you single, Johnny?” she asks, coy, “I wouldn’t want to disrupt any happy little family, if you know what I mean.”
Johnny chuckles, and Kenshi must stop himself from turning the TV off when he nods.
“Well, luckily enough turns out I am,” he says before adding, “But I must warn you I’ve already found the only woman of my life, so… Sorry not sorry.”
Nitara frowns, suddenly confused, but Kenshi sighs in relief and leans back against the couch. He knows who Johnny’s referring to, and it was clever of him. But Johnny always is, isn’t he? Despite everything.
“Have you, now? And who’s this lucky lady stealing you off the market?” Nitara inquires, and Johnny chuckles with an apologetic shrug.
“My daughter, the apple of my eye,” Johnny replies, soft. “I’m an author but also a full-time dad, and this latter occupation is what matters to me the most.”
The audience reacts with a collective aaww, and Kenshi would’ve too, hadn’t he been already busy observing Nitara and Johnny and the sharp looks they’re discretely giving each other. She was hoping to use Johnny’s private life and gossip about it to raise her audience share, and Johnny would have let her, hadn’t she crossed a line. Said line, apparently, was Kenshi himself and his relationship with Johnny.See AlsoCrucial Concerts for the Week AheadDr. Dre’s Billion-Dollar Beats: How He Changed the Sound of Money - Know Your BestVenues Update: Four Live Proposals For 2025, Closures, Fires & More
So now he’s diverted the conversation towards his status as a loving, caring father, instead of the sex-fueled gossip machine she hoped to focus her interview on – and they all know it’s going to be hard for her to bring Johnny back where she wanted him, now that he’s brought the conversation somewhere completely different. Judging by the determined and vexed look in her eyes, though, Kenshi is positive she’s going to try anyway.
“Ah, that’s so sweet!” Nitara comments with one hand above her heart, “Looks like your life truly revolves around her, isn’t it?”
“Kind of, I still manage to keep some sort of separation between the different spheres of my life – for instance, for safety reasons, family and work are strictly divided.”
At this, Nitara’s eyes get a wicked sparkle back.
“I assume that she hasn’t met Mr. Real-Life Sento, then?” Nitara teases, and Johnny chuckles, but Kenshi spots some well-hidden annoyance in the way his hand clamps down on the chair armrest.
“No, she has met him,” Johnny answers carefully, “But as I said, him and I have become good friends, so it’s not a surprise.”
“Well, it kind of is, isn’t it? I mean, he might be a friend, but he’s also a central part of your job right now; it looks like those spheres of your life aren’t as separated as you claim…” Nitara grins, finally at ease in cornering her guest somewhere uncomfortable, “Or are you suggesting he’s above your hard-set rules? That he’s the one exception?”
The studio is silent, and Johnny’s smile fades progressively under Nitara’s scrutiny. Kenshi’s heart is stuck in his throat as everyone waits for Johnny to answer, but he already knows what he’s going to say. Johnny is many, many things, but he’s not a liar. And despite his primary concern right now being protecting his own privacy, his family’s and Kenshi’s…
“He might be,” Johnny concedes, and Nitara’s grin turns victorious as the audience gasps and giggles. Kenshi exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, but it’s too late now.
It’s already out there, and there’s no way to take it back: he knows, Johnny knows, everyone does. Nothing explicit was said, but was there any need to? It’s pretty clear already, and Kenshi’s mind wanders as Nitara changes subject and asks Johnny about some fun story about him that made headlines some time ago.
As Johnny goes back to being his usual, bratty, confident self, Kenshi knows that they’ve crossed a line he swore he’d never get near to.
Feelings… Love. Kenshi is realizing now, and only now, how scared he is of falling in love with someone, of getting that attached to another person. He’s never lost a lover, but he’s lost loved ones: his father, Mileena – he still feels her blood on his hands; he’s seen how much of a dreadful impact their death had on his mother, and the thought of going through that same shit himself…
Sindel Taira has never fully recovered from her husband’s death. She withered before her children’s eyes, which only made Mileena more determined to do something, while Kitana and Kenshi licked at their own wounds. Kenshi in particular – he should’ve been there, more present. He wasn’t, and Mileena paid the price of his carelessness. He loved her, and her death is still haunting him to this day, even after fifteen years.
Johnny reminds him of her. They’re both headstrong, determined, loyal to the very bone, and tragically prone to self-sacrifice, despite the appearances. And if Kenshi’s still traumatized by what happened, now he has to deal with another fear, even more overwhelming and encompassing: what if he ends up hurting him like he did with Mileena? What if he ends up losing him forever, and not because of a broken heart?
Kenshi looks at the man on his TV screen, busy laughing with the audience as he recalls some of his juvenile adventures. He thought Johnny would be an experience, and he’s revealed himself to be a wonderful one; but now… Now Kenshi knows Johnny is not just that. He’s becoming everything, and Kenshi is not ready to admit it, nor face the consequences of said truth. He… he can’t. He just can’t allow it.
Kenshi pulls his phone out as Nitara calls for a commercial break, saying they’d be back with some game to play with Johnny. He looks at him, his glasses that shield him from the rest of the world, his dimpled smile and the honey in his irises… And as he does, he opens his chat with Kitana.
KT: Hey, Kit. Do you still have that number you told me about?
It’s going to be a killer party. It has to – it must be. Johnny needs it to get his mind off things, and maybe drink a cocktail, or two… or three. It’s his night, he has every right to; Janet swore she’d behave, and Cassie decided to spend the night at one of her friends’, so he could have fun and not hold back. It’s been a tough three weeks, and everyone close to him knows that Johnny needs to cut some slack and stop fucking overthink.
The interview with Nitara Vaeternus was… something. It didn’t go bad, the pre-orders for Sento have skyrocketed after the show and his social media have been flooded with new followers, likes and comments, even private messages; the thing is… Kenshi’s, somehow, have too, even though his name was never made explicit.
No one has confirmed whether he is the real man behind Sento’s character, but with those paparazzi pictures on TMZ and Johnny’s own following him back, well. It wasn’t really necessary, and there was a new wave of people trying to get in touch with him – they didn’t manage, though, Kenshi’s socials are all private and his policy is only to accept requests from people he knows in real life. Thank God.
But this wasn’t even the worse part of these fucked up three weeks. And it’s not even like they were bad themselves, but there’s always been something nagging at him, something whispering to his ear that shit’s about to go down in the worse way possible – and not in general, no… Only between him and Kenshi. It’s been like this since the interview, when he called Kenshi as soon as he locked himself in his dressing room. It never went away.
“Come on, pick up, pick up…” Johnny mutters as he paces nervously in his dressing room, one hand on his hip and the other pressing his phone against his ear, in an endless back and forth of steps and paranoia. “Please, pick up…”
The telltale click of the call being taken has Johnny groan in relief, only to bite his lip to muffle the sound.
“Johnny?”
“Thank God, I was losing my goddamn mind!” Johnny cries, dragging one hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry, I tried not to let her do her thing with us but – I’m so sorry, I fucked up so bad, and now we’re screwed, and it’s all my fucking fault!”
“Johnny, stop,” Kenshi demands, way too calm and collected in comparison to Johnny’s anxious state. “You’re pacing around somewhere, aren’t you?”
“I – yeah, in my dressing room. I ran here as soon as I could shake everyone off me, I needed to catch a breather,” Johnny explains, still heaving. He might be having a panic attack. He doesn’t like it; he might even hate it. Why is it suddenly so hard to breathe? “Why?”
“Because I want you to sit down and breathe before your heart gives out and you have a full-blown meltdown,” Kenshi deadpans, and Johnny feels even worse in detecting some concern in his tone. He’s made a mess, and now he’s worrying the hell out of him too – fun-fucking-tastic. Johnny squeezes his eyes shut to stop himself from crying.
“That obvious?”
“I had a hunch you might not be doing great, let’s put it this way,” Kenshi concedes while Johnny complies with his requests. “Have you sat down?”
“Yeah, I’m… There’s a sofa here, I’m lying on it Rose-Dawson style,” Johnny sighs, glancing at the mirror to his side. He does feel like he’s on a sinking ship, after all, but his mood gets slightly better when he hears Kenshi chuckle.
“You mean, naked except for an ugly yet pricey necklace?”
Johnny snorts, amused despite everything.
“That was an oddly specific portrayal, Kendoll.”
“You started it,” Kenshi points out as they both laugh. Johnny feels a bit lighter, more relaxed. It didn’t take much, after all. They share a few moments of comfortable silence, and Johnny uses them to close his eyes and breathe in and out, slow and deep. He only opens them again when Kenshi resumes speaking, “Do you also have a Jack there with you to paint you a portrait?”
“Nah, I left mine home – but apparently, I still managed to crash both of us against a fucking iceberg,” Johnny says, miserable. It barely crosses his mind that he just compared himself and Kenshi to a couple of star-crossed lovers, but Kenshi doesn’t comment on it either, he just hums.
“Are you okay?” he asks after a beat, soft. Johnny’s stomach does something fluttery and painful, twisting and turning with the rest of his insides. His heart, on the verge of a stroke, is still beating too fast to be normal, but Johnny knows the reason has changed in part.
“I don’t know,” he admits with a sigh, “I just… I knew it was risky, coming here – we had talked about it, but this… Fuck, Ken, this was a shitshow.”
“It wasn’t, nothing bad happened. You did well,” Kenshi tries, and Johnny scoffs, massaging the bridge of his nose.
“Please, don’t patronize me – it was a fucking disaster.”
“Then let’s say you did better than anyone else would’ve done in your position.”
Johnny sighs, eyes fixed on the ceiling. There’s a crack crossing it from side to side, so thin it’s almost invisible – but it’s definitely there. It sends a cold shiver down his spine, as if he’s just been presented with a bad omen.
“You think so?”
“I do. You were clever, you tried to divert her focus from where she was aiming at, and it worked.”
“Not really, though.”
“Stop being so self-deprecating. It did work, you just couldn’t avoid those questions forever,” Kenshi chides him, “She’s a professional, she knows how to corner people with her questions. It was a matter of time before she tried again.”
Johnny scowls, “I thought presenting myself as Dad of the Year would prevent her from prying further, but it backfired spectacularly. Why didn’t I just lie?”
Kenshi stays silent for a beat, enough for Johnny to realize what he said. He gulps down, suddenly anxious again.
“Kenshi, I-”
“I knew you wouldn’t. You…” Kenshi chuckles, an airy sound that mixes resignation and fondness. Johnny finds himself getting goosebumps out of it. “You’re one of the worst liars I’ve ever met.”
“That’s not true!”
“You couldn’t lie to save your life, Johnny.”
“That’s just because you always see right through me!” Johnny cries, and then another beat of silence ensues. Johnny claps one hand on his eyes with a grimace – what the fuck is wrong with him? Why can’t he just think before running his mouth, just once?
“I… I guess I do,” Kenshi murmurs, and Johnny halts short. He slowly moves his hand away, dropping it on his stomach. Kenshi sounds troubled, pensive. Johnny doesn’t like it.
“Ken?”
“Mh?”
“Are you okay?” Johnny inquires, worried. “There’s been lots of talking about me, but… I mean. I’m not the only one in this, am I?”
Kenshi hesitates at first, but then Johnny hears him let out a sigh.
“I’m fine. It was just… intense to watch,” he then says, and Johnny nods – not that Kenshi will ever know.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Johnny…”
“Yeah, I know, it’s not my fault – but it kind of is, isn’t it?” Johnny scoffs. “I just wish things went differently.”
“At least it was good advertising for the book.”
“Yeah, I fucking hope so,” Johnny grumbles, but then here it is again, that strange pang in his chest. “What do we do now?”
It takes Kenshi a moment to answer – and when he does, Johnny gets even more anxious than before.
“I don’t know.”
“I though you… You always have a plan,” Johnny tries, hopeful. Kenshi chuckles, but it doesn’t sound happy. Resigned, if anything.
“I might.”
“Oh. I mean,” Johnny clears his throat, trying to sound normal, “Care to share?”
“It’s, uh… Let’s say a work in progress,” Kenshi answers, careful. “Something I should’ve done some time ago.”
This time, it’s Johnny’s turn to hesitate. Kenshi’s tone… It sounded weird. There was something strange clouding his voice – Johnny can’t pinpoint what, but it didn’t sound right.
“I won’t like it, will I?” he then asks in a tense whisper. He can almost picture Kenshi, the hard set of his jaw highlighted by the moonlight as he looks out one of the windows of his apartment.
“No,” Kenshi admits, mirroring Johnny’s tone. “I don’t think you will.”
Johnny’s heart drops. He tries to speak one, two times, but he seems unable to make any sound.
“I… Okay. If – I mean, you’re the rational one between us. I trust your judgment,” he manages to say after another failed attempt. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course. Don’t forget my coffee.”
“As if there was a chance…” Johnny tuts, but he can’t help a smile – a sad one, though. Why does this feel like the end of something? “Goodnight, Kenshi.”
“Goodnight, Johnny.”
The call ends, and Johnny lowers the phone on his shoulder with an impending sense of doom looming over him.
The crack on the ceiling looks thicker.
And apparently, he was right, because something’s been off. What? Johnny can’t tell precisely, their relationship seems the same from outside, same banter and same routine; but Johnny knows something’s not alright – that something has changed, maybe forever.
Their balance was disrupted, and now it feels like they’re tiptoeing around each other in a careful dance Johnny didn’t want to get into. The problem is that getting out of it seems impossible now, because it’d mean ending things between them. And that’s off the table.
He takes a deep breath as he fixes his jacket for the last time, watching his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The place is fancy, Johnny must admit it. They’re in one of LA’s coolest lounge bars, right at the very top of a frankly dizzying skyscraper; the view on the city is breathtaking, but the place itself isn’t any less.
The lights are dim and warm, illuminating the rooms thanks to the LED lights encased in the glossy black floors and the designer chandeliers hanging from the equally black ceiling; the light is reflected in the black mirrored walls all around them, that transform into wide, crystal sliding doors to the ample terrace overlooking the city. The furniture is all black crystal, gold metal and black velvet, from the cocktail tables topped with white flowers in clear vases to the sofas and poufs scattered all around – in a cool way, though.
Cris outdid herself in organizing this party, starting from the location she chose – and he knows the food and drinks will be just as posh, good-looking and delicious. She’s not usually this passionate about parties, but Sento comes out tomorrow and it’s already a best-seller, so she was probably in the mood to celebrate.
And Johnny’s own reflection seems ready to go out there and have the time of his life: his dark circles are well hidden by a subtle layer of make-up, his crisp white shirt creates a striking contrast with the black tailored suit and the golden handkerchief in his breast pocket, his hair was combed to appear charmingly tousled.
He’s hot, and he knows it – he does, really… but his expression betrays his real feelings. He looks way too serious, tense, even grim to be ready for a night of fun. He wishes he was in better spirits, but he really can’t help it.
Johnny takes another deep breath, squares his shoulders, and finally braces himself. He must step out and go back to the crowd, even though he’d rather just go home and watch a movie right now. With Kenshi, maybe.
Johnny shakes his head, mentally chastising himself for falling back into yet another painful reverie. That’s the reason behind his dark circles, these are the thoughts keeping him up at night. And if before the interview with Nitara he thought of them with hope and excitement, now they’re just a reason to mope and get restless, bitter and sad and frustrated. Something’s changed, and Johnny wishes he could take it back.
He just wants Kenshi, his Kenshi, back.
The music pumps through the speakers as Johnny crosses the corridor back to the main area, already filled with people. Johnny smiles at some people, exchanges handshakes and pleasantries, stopping here and there to chitchat with some important people he couldn’t care less about. He tries to get on with it as fast as possible, so he can join his actual friends and spend some quality time with them.
He notices Kung Lao and Raiden, dressed respectively in a charcoal suit with red accents and a white one with blue details, on the outside terrace, staring curiously at the water lilies painted in gold and black floating in the pool; Janet nears them from behind, unnoticed, with a wicked grin on her lips that turn into full-blown laughter when she stops right between them, pats their shoulders with way more emphasis than necessary and has them start and cry in surprise. Kung Lao’s shriek sounds exceptionally high-pitched, and Johnny does his best not to laugh in the face of some old publishing guy boring him to death with marketing details.
He starts to make his way towards them after a handful of minutes, wondering when Kenshi’s gonna join them. He’s coming, Cris reserved for him a few invitations and they were all taken. And he wouldn’t miss it himself, not the party for their book. He told Johnny he would come, and he will. He will.
“Johnny Cage!”
Johnny turns around at the sound of his name, and he finds himself facing Liu Kang. His hair is tied up in his signature half ponytail, and he’s dressed in a white shirt and an elegant grey suit embellished with blue and golden details; what really catches Johnny’s eye, though, is the beautiful woman right next to him, eyeing Johnny curiously.
“Captain, welcome! It’s a pleasure to have you here,” Johnny greets him with a sincere smile that Liu Kang reciprocates right away.
“The pleasure is mine, thank you for inviting me.” They shake hands, and as soon as Johnny lets go of his hand, Liu Kang turns sideways and gestures towards the woman by his side. “Johnny, there’s someone I’d like you to meet – unless she’s changed her mind and would rather wait?”
“She hasn’t,” the woman says, giving Liu Kang a condescending look together with a soft smile. When she looks at Johnny, he’s struck by a sort of déja-vu feeling, as if she’s already seen her somewhere.
She looks so… familiar, with her long straight hair loose on her shoulders and back, so dark it looks like ink, those dark brown eyes and plump lips. Her gorgeous body is wrapped in a navy silk dress with silver jewelry, and her stance is proud, confident, with her chin high and fierce. She looks curious, but it’s an intense, almost clinical kind of curiosity – and that’s what fascinates Johnny the most.
“Well, then introductions are compulsory,” Johnny says, still smiling at his guests. The woman nods and steps further, extending one hand towards Johnny.
“Kitana Takahashi,” she greets him, and her lips curl into a grin when Johnny halts mid handshakes to goggle at her. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mr. Cage.”
Liu Kang chuckles and shakes his head, “You’re unbelievable, Kitana.”
“I merely wanted to have some fun and leave Mr. Cage speechless for once,” Kitana justifies herself, before directing an amused glance at Johnny. “I thought you’d be so much harder to surprise. My brother says you’re quite the chatter.”
“Does he?” Johnny manages to blurt out, doing his best to recover quickly from his shock. Kenshi’s sister. What the fuck? “And what other charming things has your brother told you about me?”
“He painted quite the portrait,” Kitana confirms, and Johnny does his best to let out a snicker. He just can’t let her know how nervous this unexpected meeting is making him – Kenshi’s sister, for fuck’s sake!
He knew Kenshi had a sister. He doesn’t really talk about his family, but Johnny knew that much – just like he knows there’s something nasty still gnawing at him from his past, something linked to that same family.
Sometimes Johnny thinks of that day at the precinct, his first day as an official consultant on Kyle Cabot’s case, when he made that show and deducted Kenshi’s past. He would’ve made a fine lawyer, but Johnny actually likes him better as a cop; it feels more of a Kenshi-esque job, one in which he can be smart and clever but also a man of action. It suits him, but… Well. Johnny is also aware he’s doing this because of something bad that happened years ago and is still haunting him, even if Kenshi doesn’t speak of it.
Johnny wishes he did, sometimes; he wishes he could support him, he wishes Kenshi would lay it all on him not to carry that burden by himself anymore. But Kenshi never does, and Johnny is not sure he’d be allowed to ask. Kenshi tends to clam up whenever something makes him uncomfortable, or worse, suffer.
Which is why Kenshi has never addressed the matter of his own family with him, and also why Johnny only knew about a nebulous younger sister called Kitana living somewhere in L.A. – nothing more, nothing else. He surely didn’t expect to see her here and now, attending the launch party for their book. It makes sense, truth be told, Johnny’s attended Janet’s premieres in the past; he just didn’t think it’d be the same for Kenshi and his sister.
“Good Lord, what are those two doing?” Liu Kang asks with a frown, observing Kung Lao as he hovers above the pool, Raiden holding him back not to let him fall, to fish out one of the water lilies. Janet, by their side, gives them instructions to follow, and Johnny suspects she’s purposely trying to make them both have a swim. “Isn’t that your sister, Johnny?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Liu Kang gives him a concerned glance, “Do you believe she’s trying to hold them back or…?”
Johnny purses his lips when Kung Lao nearly slips and Janet cackles.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Ah. Very well…” Liu Kang sighs, before directing an apologetic look towards Johnny and Kitana, “I’d better make sure they won’t take a dip, then. Forgive me.”
Johnny chuckles as Liu Kang swiftly heads towards the detectives, right as Janet points at a water lily well into the pool and far from the edge. He notices Kitana taking a step further and closer to him, but he pretends not to. He wants to see what she’ll do if she has her way with him.
“You know…” she begins, and Johnny risks a look in her direction, “You're not the way I imagined you.”
“I’m… glad? Is it a good thing?” Johnny tries, cautious. Kitana smiles ruefully and nods.
“It is. I expected you to be louder, actually.”
“Give me a few more minutes, I could surprise you,” Johnny sighs dramatically, “Looks like ‘tis the season, after all.”
“Which one? Of surprises?”
“The season in which we meet each other's families,” Johnny clarifies, “You know, a few weeks ago Kenshi met-”
“Your ex-wife,” Kitana completes, and Johnny lifts a brow.
“He told you?”
“Yes. Kenshi has this weird habit of sharing stuff with me,” Kitana muses, and Johnny chuckles.
“Well, I do the same with my own sister, so who am I to judge?”
“She looks like quite the mischievous type,” she comments, amused, as they watch Janet laugh at something Raiden said, rather sheepishly, to an unimpressed Liu Kang. Johnny shrugs and takes two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter.
“Family trait, believe it or not.”
“Oh, it’s not that hard to believe,” she says, before accepting one of the glasses with a slow nod and a delicate thank you. Johnny lifts a brow, questioning, but he still takes a sip before he speaks – liquid courage, probably.
“Isn’t it? How so?”
“Didn’t you steal all the documents on your first case with Kenshi when they refused to investigate any further, so you could do it yourself?” Kitana asks back, reciprocating his raised brow with one of her own. Johnny blinks twice before making any movement, but then he sighs.
“Your brother was being stubborn.”
“So you committed felony theft out of spite?”
“No, I did it because I knew I was right, and they were wrong,” Johnny points out, “And since those documents were the only thing at my disposal to prove my point, I found myself with no other choice.”
“You could’ve told Kenshi.”
“I did. He chose not to listen back then.” Johnny’s lips quirk into a smirk as he takes another sip. “Luckily, he grew out of it.”
Kitana hides her smile behind her flute, and Johnny gets a glimpse of an elegant and dainty manicured hand.
“Looks like he did… Which is unusual to begin with,” Kitana observes, “Kenshi has always been quite the determined type, he rarely let himself be influenced by other people – may them be friends or family. For instance, there was no way to make him change his mind when he decided to enroll into police academy.”
Johnny gives her a curious look, his wariness suddenly obscured by interest.
“It was after Standford, right?” he asks, and Kitana seems to be taken aback by his question.
“It was…” Kitana replies, careful. “How much do you know about that time?”
Johnny shrugs, and he knows his face must be twisting into a small, pained grimace.
“Not much. I just know he grew up into a rich family, went to posh schools and studied at Stanford to become a lawyer, but then dropped everything to become a cop.”
“Did he tell you all this?” Kitana inquires, fascinated and… something else Johnny can’t really decipher. He sighs and makes a so-so gesture.
“I exposed a theory, and he confirmed whether I was right or not.”
“Were you?”
“I can be quite the observer when I want to,” Johnny comments, and Kitana doesn’t say anything for a beat. She’s gotten all serious now, and Johnny is not sure he likes the way she’s been studying him.
“Do you know why he dropped out from Stanford?”
At this, Johnny frowns.
“He dropped out?” he repeats, confused. “I thought he went and became a cop after graduating.”
“He was three exams away from his degree, actually,” Kitana confirms quietly. “I assume you don’t know, then. He hasn’t told you.”
Johnny locks his jaw, but he shakes his head, nevertheless.
“I know something bad happened to someone he cared about – someone he loved,” Johnny explains, “And it was bad enough to make him turn his life upside down in search of justice, something the police couldn’t provide. So he chose to take matters into his own hands.”
Kitana stays perfectly still, just staring at him with her unreadable expression. Johnny does his best to hold her gaze, but surprisingly, she’s the first to avert it.
“Correct, Johnny Cage… You really are the observing type, after all,” she sighs, and Johnny frowns when he watches her down what’s left of her champagne in one go. When she looks back at him, Johnny sees she’s completely retreated, shielded inside herself. He’s used to it by now; the only difference is that Kenshi doesn’t smile when he does that. “No wonder my brother kept you around.”
“And here I thought he did that because I bring him coffee every morning,” Johnny jokes, and Kitana chuckles with him.
“And donuts too, or so I’ve heard.”
“The more decadent, the better. Your brother likes to pretend he doesn’t have a sweet tooth,” Johnny snorts, before sipping some more champagne. “Quite rude of him, by the way. Leaving his plus one here all by herself – where the hell is he?”
“Oh, I’m not his plus one. Not the official one, at least. He made sure to include me into the accreditations list,” Kitana explains, and Johnny feels something unpleasant twist inside him. If he’s not here with her, then who?
“Do you… I mean,” Johnny coughs, trying to clear his throat not to let his voice quiver, “He did say he’d bring a plus one, though. Do you know who he’s bringing along?”
Kitana opens her mouth to answer, but her gaze is suddenly captured by something by the entrance of the room. She nods in that direction, making sure Johnny follows her lead.
“I think you’re about to find out yourself.”
Johnny turns around, and when he does… Well, damn.
If heartbreak had a sound, it’d be of Johnny’s champagne flute falling to the ground and shattering into a thousand shards.
Kenshi is entering the room right now, and God, he’s so fucking handsome. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, embellished by shiny silk details and a tie; like Johnny’s own, he’s sporting a golden handkerchief in his breast pocket. His hair is neatly combed, his beard was trimmed to a fashionable stubble that, in Johnny’s humble (and unrequested) opinion, only makes him look sexier.
Johnny wishes he could focus solely on him, but the truth is that he’s too busy staring at the man arm in arm with Kenshi – his Kenshi, goddammit, and that guy’s not where he’s supposed to be. If only, he’s stealing Johnny’s rightful place, even if… Well, it’s not like they’ve discussed this, or anything closely related, but fuck! Another guy? Seriously?
The man is good-looking, with golden skin tone, light eyes that Johnny suspects to be green, slicked back light brown hair… Johnny hates him, him and his light-grey suit and his white shirt and the way he’s laughing at something Kenshi told him – who the fuck does he think he is? Who the fuck is he?
The moment stretches to infinity, but actually, it only lasts mere seconds. Kitana gasps when Johnny’s flute falls and shatters, and the noise snaps him back to reality.
“Sorry! Sorry, I…” Johnny babbles, making sure she’s not hurt as Kitana moves aside to avoid the pool of champagne and broken glass. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine – don’t worry about me.” Kitana takes a step backwards to put some distance between her and the mess Johnny made, but her attention is all for him as she studies him curiously, her brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”
Johnny gapes, unsure how to respond. A waiter has promptly launched himself by their side to clean everything up, but Johnny barely notices. He’s… He’s not sure he’s feeling well. Quite the opposite, he’s pretty sure he might throw up. And when he looks back at the entrance and spots Kenshi speaking with Cris and the guy holding his fucking hand, his stomach lurches painfully.
“I think so, I just… My hand slipped, silly me.” Johnny looks back at Kitana with a strained small laugh, that progressively turns into a sad smile. He has someone new. “Silly me…”
Kitana watches him carefully, and by the look she’s giving him, Johnny knows his state of mind hasn’t gone unnoticed. Little bastards, these Takahashis; they notice every single detail, don’t they?
“Forgive me, I… I think I should go – I still need to rehearse my speech for later,” Johnny says after clearing his throat. He smiles at Kitana and takes a small bow. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Kitana. Hope to see you again later?”
“Likewise, Johnny,” she says with a knowing smile, and Johnny heads swiftly towards the other end of the room, in a private adjacent area, as soon as she’s done talking.
He closes the door behind him, groaning as soon as he can lean against the hard black surface. It’s cold against the back of his nape, and Johnny closes his eyes and takes some deep breaths to steady himself.
It wasn’t supposed to go like this. This night was supposed to be theirs, his and Kenshi’s, and they… They’re in this together, and they should’ve been together tonight as well. Johnny doesn’t really know if he’s making a fuss out of nothing, but he just… The image of that fucking asshole’s hand holding Kenshi’s seems to be tattooed on his eyelids, and he just can’t take it. Not tonight, not ever… Not Kenshi.
“Fuck…” Johnny whispers, a grimace twisting his features. He stays still a few more seconds, then he detaches himself from the door and goes to fetch his notes.
He must get a grip, he still has to hop on that stage and deliver a speech, and he can’t do that in his current state of mind. He doesn’t know how he’ll manage, but he’ll figure something out.
He always does.
Somehow, he did it. Johnny wasn’t sure he would, but he did it – and he also delivered a nice speech, with trivia and jokes and heartfelt thanks to everyone who took part in this crazy journey. He thanked Cris for trusting him, his family for always supporting him, the precinct and Liu Kang for welcoming him, Raiden and Kung Lao for being such good friends, and…
“And last but definitely not least…”
Johnny’s eyes roam the room, but it only takes a mere three seconds before his eyes find Kenshi’s. His date is still by his side, but the moment they look at each other, the room empties, and it’s just the two of them. Johnny raises his glass and smiles at Kenshi – a sincere one, full of affection… Maybe even more.
“My most heartfelt thank you goes to Detective Takahashi – Kenshi. My muse, my best friend… My partner.” Johnny feels heat bloom in his chest when Kenshi smiles back at him, ruefully but also fondly, tenderly. It gives Johnny the courage to keep on talking. “You… We had a rocky start, and I know I wasn’t exactly your favorite at first. Therefore, I must thank you for being so resilient and determined and stubborn, because this book, our reason for being here tonight, was only possible because of you. Nick Sento wouldn’t exist without you, and I wouldn’t…”
Johnny trails off. He knows what he’d like to say, but he doesn’t know whether he’s allowed to. But, well, it feels like a now or never moment, so… Well. What does he have to lose at this point?
“Without you, I’d still be stuck. Not just regarding my job, but in general. Working with you gave me a purpose I had never pictured for myself, it gave me a new start and new fuel. It gave me new friends, it made me discover things about myself that I had never considered before, not even acknowledged. And…” Johnny smiles, soft, and shrugs slightly. “It gave me you – someone I share my days with, someone I work but can also laugh with. Someone I can’t do without, not anymore… Without you, none of these things would be possible. Nothing would be, so… Yeah. Thank you, Detective Takahashi. You saved me, and I won’t forget that.”
Silence ensues, and everyone’s eyes are fixed either on Johnny or Kenshi. It feels like no one dares to breathe, nor utter a single word, and the whole room is frozen. Luckily, Janet and Kitana seem to take pity on them, and after exchanging a meaningful look from across the room, they both start clapping, soon followed by everyone else… Everyone, except for Johnny and Kenshi, still too busy staring at each other, the whole world fading around them.
Johnny doesn’t remember how he got down the stage, what happened. His memories are fuzzy, all mixed up, and he’s aware he was sucked in a vortex of chitchat and talks with people he couldn’t care less about, but he couldn’t help it. He suspects Kenshi experienced his same fate, but he’s not sure. He wishes he could’ve spent that time with him, though.
Now he’s finally free, and he’s taking a minute to himself on the terrace. Night has fallen and it’s completely dark outside, not to mention kinda cold due to the night breeze from the sea. Maybe that’s why no one else is there, thinking of it.
Johnny takes a sip from his tumbler of scotch, then lets his forearms rest on the railing as he admires the breathtaking view of Los Angeles from above.
“I thought you’d spend the night being a crowd-puller, Cage,” says a voice from behind him, and Johnny tenses his shoulders as Kenshi joins him and stops by his side. “Change of plans?”
“Sort of… I needed to catch a breather,” Johnny admits, and then he makes the worst mistake possible: he risks a glance at Kenshi.
His face is highlighted by the city lights under and around them in the softest way, making him look ethereal. The breeze is mussing his hair, even if slightly, and Johnny has to avert his eyes before he does something he might regret.
Kenshi hums, but he says nothing at first. It takes him a few more moments to clear his throat and finally speak.
“Nice speech. Was it improvised?”
“I had prepared an outline, but I’ve learned that doing more than that is useless in this kind of occasions. I wouldn’t have followed it word by word either way,” Johnny explains, but then he stops. He wishes he wasn’t so damn affected by it, but he can’t help it. His grip gets tighter around his glass. “Where’s your date? He seemed to be pretty clingy back in there.”
Kenshi stiffens, but he doesn’t leave. Not yet, at least.
“He’s inside with Kitana. They’re catching up,” he answers, careful. Johnny smirks, but it’s devoid of any trace of mirth.
“Friend of hers?”
“Cousin of a colleague. He had been asking for my number for a while.”
“He seems cute. Does he also have a name?”
Kenshi raises a brow at him.
“Joshua. He told me he’d rather go by Josh, though.”
“Charming. It’s gonna be Joshua, then.” Johnny smirks when Kenshi chuckles with a slow headshake. “What? It’s not like we have to be friends, do we?”
“Johnny, please.”
“Whatever…” Johnny sighs, then he musters the guts to look at Kenshi. He’s sure every single emotion crossing his mind will be visible from his face, and… Well. He’s not sure he wants Kenshi to see him this vulnerable right now. “How long have you been dating?”
Kenshi squares his shoulders as he holds Johnny’s gaze. He looks… sad. And guilty.
“It's rather new.”
“How new?”
“A little less than three weeks,” he answers in a low voice.
Johnny’s mind races and counts back, and he feels his blood chill when it dawns on him: three weeks ago, his interview with Nitara aired. And now his conversation with Kenshi, when he called him right after the show, rings in his ears, haunting.
What do we do now?
I don't know.
I thought... You always have a plan.
I might.
Johnny snorts a small, humorless laugh as he goes back looking at the city below them.
“You were right… You warned me I wouldn’t like it,” he whispers, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why him?”
Kenshi stays silent, probably considering what to say next, but Johnny doesn't pressure him. He needs to know, and knowing Kenshi, the best way to keep the conversation going is giving him the time he needs to think about how to answer.
“He is… He's a good guy.”
At this, however, Johnny raises a questioning brow.
“Is that all? You're dating him just because he's a good guy?”
“Isn't that enough of a reason?”
“Not when it'd make countless other people available candidates,” Johnny claps back, narrowing his eyes to slits to watch him carefully. “Are you truly interested in him, or was he simply the easiest and fastest option at your disposal?”
Kenshi gives him a pointed look.
“You're jumping to conclusions.”
“Am I? Let's analyze the facts, shall we?”
Johnny turns towards him, leaning against the railing with one side and pointing to the crowd inside with his glass.
“This guy – one you've never mentioned, not even once, in almost two years – has spent quite some time thirsting after you, by your own admission, and yet, you never hit him up; you only did after my interview with Nitara, three weeks ago, after saying you might have a plan, something you should have done some time ago. And now that I'm asking you why you fancy him, the only reason you give me is that he's a good guy – I would've accepted even some horny comments about his ass or something, but this…”
As Johnny scoffs and shakes his head, Kenshi pulls a displeased face.
“This what, Johnny?” he asks, icily even. Johnny downs the remaining scotch in his tumbler in a single gulp, then he drops his glass on the floor and looks back at Kenshi with all his hurt and anger and sadness, all tinged with betrayal.
“This calls bullshit from a mile away,” he hisses. “I know I fucked up with that interview-”
“Johnny, we've already talked about this.”
“Not enough, apparently! Because now you went and got yourself some sort of beard to cover everything up or something, while I'm here just… I…”
Johnny feels words get stuck in his throat, creating a lump that threatens to suffocate him. He feels dangerously close to losing it, and may he be damned if he lets that happen in front of Kenshi. He averts his eyes with a grimace, pained and vexed.
“We're in this together. Why did you shut me out?”
Kenshi locks his jaw, tense. Johnny can see he's conflicted, sad, guilty, but he can also see a strong determination in his eyes. He won't back down from his decision, and Johnny doesn't know what hurts him the most – said decision itself, or the fact that Kenshi never told him anything about it.
“I… I had to, Johnny.”
“No, you didn't. Don't you dare pull that shit on me, Kenshi, you didn't.”
“You don't understand-”
“Then explain me! Fucking talk to me, Ken!” Johnny bursts, and he didn't realize how desperate he truly is until now. “Just talk to me, please.”
Kenshi must be going through his same realization, because he's looking at Johnny with an explosive mixture of pain, grief, fear, and even more guilt. He looks hesitant, and Johnny exhales a shuddering breath he didn't realize he was holding when Kenshi takes a step further, closing the distance between them, and cups his cheek, soft and tender.
Johnny leans in, pressing his nose in the crook of Kenshi’s thumb as he gently strokes his cheekbone.
“I need to do this, Johnny. I…” Kenshi sighs and licks his lips, looking briefly at the city lights. Johnny, however, only has eyes for him. “I know it might look incomprehensible to you, but… It's something I must try.”
“And you just couldn't try with me, could you?” Johnny whispers. Kenshi’s eyes are back on him, and they find Johnny’s right away. And he feels like dying when Kenshi shakes his head.
“Not now. Not like this.”
Johnny squeezes his eyes shut, but he doesn't dare move away from him – Kenshi doesn't either. They stay there, close to each other, Los Angeles at their feet. Johnny wouldn't be able to tell how long this moment lasts, if it’s mere minutes or hours, but after a while Kenshi hums, looking back at the bar.
“It's been ages since I last heard this song,” he murmurs, pensive. Johnny offers him a small smile.
“Do you remember when it was?”
“I think… I think it must've been during my last year at Stanford, at some party organized by a friend,” Kenshi recalls, “I was supposed to attend with a girl I liked, but she dumped me one week before the event. So, no dances for me.”
“Yikes… Must've hurt,” Johnny comments, pensive. “Did you manage to get that dance back?”
“Not really. I’ve never been one for that kind of things in general,” Kenshi muses. He licks his lips, hesitant, before adding, “I only dance with people I deeply care about. People I love.”
Johnny chuckles, soft, and shakes his head. Maybe he’ll regret this tomorrow, but now? He feels like this is his only chance, the only he has left.
“Dance with me, then,” he proposes, offering Kenshi a small smile when he gives him an uncertain look. “You owe it to me… At least this, before you go back to Joshua.”
Kenshi scoffs and shakes his head, but Johnny can tell he’s amused.
“This is called emotional blackmail, Cage.”
“Is it working, though?”
Kenshi hums and answers with a nod, and Johnny can’t help but smile.
“I’d say it is. Come here.”
Johnny lets Kenshi lead him a bit farther from the railing, so they can have more room to move. The music gets slightly louder, but it’s still muffled by the closed glass sliding doors, and they’re hidden behind some bushes Johnny doesn’t recognize – hydrangeas, maybe. Kenshi told him that once, when he was a child, his father ordered some right from Japan to apologize to his mother after a huge fight.
“He knew she’d get it. She loves flowers, and the meaning associated with each one. Hydrangeas were fitting for the occasion.”
Johnny wonders if it could be a sign for them as well.
Their fingers are intertwined, and Johnny almost feels sad when he has to let go of his hand – but Kenshi’s are swiftly placed on his waist and they drag Johnny closer, so that he can put his on Kenshi’s shoulders.
The last time they were so close, they almost kissed. It was after Harrison Tisdale’s arrest – and then even before, when they hugged in the precinct; Johnny still dreams of those moments. He didn’t think he’d experience something akin to that ever again, but it seems like he’s about to see his certainties shattered. A common occurrence, when it comes to Kenshi Takahashi.
“Do I have to worry about my feet, Cage?” Kenshi asks in a low voice as they start moving together, and Johnny laughs.
“I know how to dance, Kendoll. Your feet are safe from being crushed, don’t worry.”
“You never know… Want me to make you twirl?”
“Oh my God, like a princess!” Johnny jokes, “I thought you’d never ask.”
They both chuckle as Kenshi does, effectively, make Johnny twirl, before taking him back close to him.
“That was an impressive twirl, Johnny.”
“I know, I know. You’ve been charmed by my unforgettable dance moves.”
“Undoubtedly. Is there anything you can’t do, for the record?”
“I’m a shit cook. I learned just not to let Cassie starve, you know. Also, in school I sucked at maths – good God, that shit’s uncomprehensible.”
“I was pretty good at it.”
“Of course you were,” Johnny scoffs, and it’s Kenshi’s turn to laugh.
Johnny’s getting goosebumps from where his hands are placed, and it doesn’t help that Kenshi’s massaging his waist with his thumbs, pressing gently in slow circles. He steps closer to him as they move together, swaying with the notes of some sad love song, and Kenshi takes a deep breath when Johnny’s hands move up to the crooks between his shoulders and neck. His fingertips brush against locks of soft black hair, and Johnny smiles when he feels Kenshi’s grip on his waist get tighter.
Soon, they’re so close their dance looks more like an embrace, and to make it even more intimate, it doesn’t take long before they’re standing there, with their foreheads pressed together.
“What happens when the song is over?” Johnny asks, “Will this be over too?”
“I don’t know. I… It’s complicated, Johnny.”
“It doesn't have to be.”
“It is already,” Kenshi mutters, and Johnny sighs when their noses brush against each other in a slow caress.
“Was it something I did?”
“No. No, you… It’s just us,” Kenshi explains, or at least tries to. “We weren’t supposed to get this close. It wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Whose plan? Surely not mine.”
“Ah, so you admit you barged into my life just to seduce me, didn’t you? It never was for the book.”
“Of course. What a maneater, uh?” Johnny jokes, and he smiles when Kenshi laughs. He can feel his chest shake against him, and there’s nothing Johnny would ever want more than kissing him right now.
“Yeah, a real vixen… Wonder how I’ve made it thus far.”
“I simply liked you too much to do something stupid and ruin everything,” Johnny whispers, quietly. Kenshi stiffens, but he doesn’t move away. They dance in silence for a while, and as the song progresses, so does the abyss in Johnny’s chest. He doesn’t want this to end, he’s not ready.
“Kenshi, I…” Johnny bites his lip to stop his voice from quivering. Kenshi must have noticed, because his hold on him gets stronger, firmer… And Johnny just melts into his arms, secure as the rest of their world crumbles down. “Complicated or not, I don’t want to lose you. So… Unless it’s different for you, just tell me we can go and try to get back to normal. Work together, be friends – anything. Just tell me this is not where it ends, please.”
As if on cue, the song hits its final bridge with Johnny’s words. The end notes are approaching, and their moment will be over as well, whether they like it or not. Their bubble is about to burst, and Johnny… God, he knows it’ll haunt him for the rest of his life, one way or another.
The one that got away… Ironic. He never thought he’d have someone to think of with that expression. Especially not Kenshi.
Johnny’s bracing himself for rejection, he’s already trying not to fall in pieces when Kenshi speaks, but then he does something unexpected. One of his hands moves from Johnny’s waist to his face, and Kenshi’s fingers have him gently look up, so they can look into each other’s eyes. Johnny is pretty sure his heart stops when Kenshi smiles at him, equally soft and sad.
“It’s not different for me. And this is not where it ends,” he whispers, and Johnny feels the knot in his chest get slightly looser, just to dissipate completely when Kenshi’s nose brushes once again against his own, and his lips meet Johnny’s skin on his cheek, right next to the corner of his mouth.
It’s a chaste kiss, one that lingers more than it should, but Johnny doesn’t complain; he just leans into it, getting lost in the warmth of Kenshi’s soft skin. Who knows when it’ll happen again – if it’ll happen again. Johnny just wants to memorize every single detail, immortalize this moment to make it last forever… Because, well, everyone knows: all good things end, and their kiss dies together with the last notes of that love song.
Johnny’s breath hitches in his throat when he feels Kenshi’s lips leave his skin. They look into each other’s eyes as Kenshi’s takes a step back, finally putting some distance between them. Johnny lets his hands fall from his shoulders as Kenshi’s leave his waist, and they just stare at one another while the music changes, some disco song Johnny will hate for the rest of his life.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Kenshi quietly asks, his voice slightly hoarse. Johnny doesn’t know where he finds the strength to nod.
“I… I’ll bring coffee,” he offers, and he doesn’t even care that his voice cracks midway through that sentence. Kenshi does, though, judging by the way his jaw locks.
“Okay… Okay.”
They stay still for another beat, but then Johnny watches Kenshi’s face twist into a pained grimace as he swiftly turns and heads back inside. Johnny’s eyes follow him till the sliding doors, which Kenshi is hastily thrusting open. Before he steps inside, however, he halts; Johnny’s heart breaks when Kenshi turns around, and they give each other one last, painful look before he moves back in once for all.
And then, he’s gone.
Johnny doesn’t know how long he stays still, right where Kenshi left him. He just knows that it’s suddenly so hard to breathe, every puff of air feels like red-hot iron down his throat. His lungs are constricted, and his eyes sting… He won’t cry, Johnny thinks as he wipes away those first tears with the back of his hand. He won’t allow himself to, he tells himself as he slowly steps back to the railing, leaning down to let his forearms rest on the sleek bar of steel.
It feels so cold outside, out there in the night breeze… Or, maybe, it only does because Kenshi is not there anymore to keep him warm. And he’d better get used to it, apparently.
The city lights shine before him, below that terrace. Hundreds of feet from him, Los Angeles is swarming with life… And yet, Johnny Cage has never felt so alone.