Fic: Kind of Sort of (Pin)
Aug. 31st, 2011 10:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zukkokyaTitle: Kind of Sort of
Fandom: JE - NEWS/KAT-TUN
Pairing/characters: Yamapi/Jin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,500~
Disclaimer: Total fiction.
Summary: Fun with popcorn! Or: Horny and easily distracted idols give each other handjobs.
Note: For the "piercings" square of Kink Bingo.
With a bowl of popcorn balanced on his forehead, Yamapi asks, “In English, what’s the difference between ‘kind of’ and ‘sort of’?”
Jin says, “No idea,” and takes a handful from the bowl. “Aw, half of these are still kernels. How long did you put it in for?”
“That’s what she said,” Yamapi says in English, solemn.
Jin cackles. “Yeah she did,” he agrees.
“Want to watch a movie?”
“Not really.”
“Karaoke?”
“No.”
“Sex?”
“Sure. Obviously.”
Neither one of them moves. Jin’s excuse is that he’s got a pretty sweet setup on the floor–Yamapi’s down comforter under him, a bottle of imported iced tea vodka, and a cat’s cradle string thing that one of his backup dancers gave him as a joke to play with on the plane back to Japan. He can do some basic stuff with it, but mostly it’s just fun to knot his fingers up and make bondage jokes.
Pi’s just lying on the couch with popcorn on his head; Japan’s mighty sex symbol in its natural environment.
Yamapi flops one arm out and hits Jin in the shoulder. “Bring me sex,” he says.
“Get it yourself,” Jin says.
“I asked you to do it,” Yamapi says.
“Do it yourself,” Jin says, then, struck by brilliance, he says in English, “Do it to yourself,” and snickers.
Yamapi’s lips purse like he’s considering it. Then, “Too much work.”
“Lazy.”
“And horny,” Yamapi says sadly. He reaches up to take a handful of popcorn from the bowl. Even his chewing sounds disappointed.
Jin’s not horny, really. Or, well, no more than usual. His sense of time is still fucked up since it’s two in the afternoon in California, and like, okay. If sex were to present itself, he’d be game, but he’s really not up to the task of getting dressed and going out and searching for someone who isn’t A) crazy, B) a fan, or C) actually looking to bang Yamapi. Or all three.
“We should make Ryo-chan bring us sex,” Yamapi says.
“Yeah,” Jin says. He picks up Pi’s phone and keys in Ryo’s number.
“’lo?”
“Ryo-chan!” Jin sings. “Bring us sex.”
“…I fucking hate you,” Ryo groans in Osaka dialect so garbled Jin bursts out laughing and doesn’t hear anything else Ryo says.
“What’d he say?” Pi asks, and cackles when Jin repeats it for him.
Ryo hangs up on them and turns off his phone.
“How cold,” Jin says.
Yamapi gives a forlorn sigh. “Now how will we get sex brought to us?”
“Call Takizawa,” Jin says, smirking.
“Shut up,” Yamapi says. “You’re just jealous of the lust we share.”
Jin won’t lie, he kind of is. Takizawa’s almost thirty, but he’s still freakishly young looking and. Well. Abs.
“Jin, you’re not actually thinking about Takizawa-kun, are you?”
“I am,” Jin says, disturbed. “Stop me.”
Yamapi’s hand flails out to pat his head in something vaguely resembling comfort. “Thirteen-year-old girls stronger than you have fallen before his charms,” he says.
“Shut up,” Jin mutters. And since that was lame, he adds, “You have bacne.”
“I do not! I told you that was a rash!”
“That’s better?”
Yamapi kicks Jin in the head. His body’s jerky movements upend the bowl and popcorn spills out across the floor. Pi shouts, “Jin!” like Jin did it.
“There goes the last good part of this night,” Jin says.
“We suck,” Yamapi sighs. “Want to make another bag?”
“No. Now I want to get laid. Go get dressed.”
Yamapi makes a face. “I haven’t even showered yet. I’m covered in work. And I don’t want to go out. I’m hungry. And stop trying to look down my shirt.”
Jin grins from where he’s leaning over the armrest and pulling on Yamapi’s T-shirt collar. “You totally still have the bacne. I can see one.”
“Liar. That’s a mosquito bite.”
“What are you eating that you get bacne?”
“It’s summer! It’s a mosquito bite.”
“Or it could be bacne.”
“Mosquito bite.”
“Bacne.”
“MOSQUITO!”
“BACNE!”
There are more conventional ways to lead up to a kiss, but Jin and Yamapi have tried those before and they’re not all that special, really, once you get past the novelty.
Yamapi grabs a fistful of Jin’s hair and brings him in so close that Jin has to climb onto the couch and straddle Yamapi’s hips. Yamapi’s mouth tastes like popcorn and something slightly sour around the lips, but after Jin ups the pace and sucks on Yamapi’s tongue for a while, all tastes are indistinguishable from each other.
Jin skims Pi’s teeth with the tip of his tongue and finds a sliver of popcorn kernel stuck between two canines. With just a few strokes of his masterful tongue it comes loose and Jin pulls back with a smug smile.
“Sexier than a cherry stem,” Jin says, displaying the popcorn sliver on the tip of his tongue.
Yamapi’s drowsy grin dissolves into a blank stare. “That’s what you were doing with my teeth?”
“Yeah. It was bothering me.”
“Bakani–no, fuck it. You’re weird, but whatever.”
Jin shrugs and hums when Yamapi arches his neck and kisses him hard.
Yamapi’s wearing an assortment of accessories that make lying on top of him an uncomfortable experience—his wing-tipped belt buckle, his silver shark tooth necklace, his navel piercing—wait.
“I thought you took that out,” Jin says, palming Yamapi’s stomach. The thing is sharp. Like an arrow or something. Jin pulls up the hem of Pi’s shirt and stares at a small metal arrow pointing down. “Subtle.”
Yamapi grins. “It’s a fishhook,” he says.
Jin leans his weight on one arm and pulls his own shirt up with his free hand. “I think it scratched me,” he says.
“This isn’t sexy,” Yamapi points out. “You’re ruining the mood with your clumsiness.”
Jin gives him a look. “There was a mood?”
“Kind of,” Yamapi says. “Sort of? Hey, really, what’s the difference?”
Jin rolls his eyes and yanks his shirt off, then sets to work on Pi’s belt buckle.
“Kind of sounds better,” Yamapi says, helping not at all. “Sort of sounds like ‘sawed off.’”
“That’s because your pronunciation is shit,” Jin says. “Take off your pants.”
“Where’d my belt go?”
“I don’t care. Behind the couch somewhere. Pants.” Keeping Pi on task for sex usually isn’t this much of a challenge. “Come on, I’m not even hard anymore.”
Yamapi pauses in pushing his jeans down. “You were hard? When?”
Jin shoves Pi’s shoulders into the leather armrest and fuses their mouths together just to get him to shut. The fuck. Up.
Yamapi smirks against his mouth, bringing Jin to the familiar conclusion that his best friend is an asshole.
Jin slips one arm behind Pi’s neck and slides the other one under Pi’s shirt. He thumbs the ridges of Pi’s stomach with just a hint of thumbnail, then twists the piercing and rolls his hips with a particularly pointed snap.
Pi’s hitched breath makes him do it over and over again until Pi shudders.
Pi hooks the waistband of Jin’s sweatpants and pushes them down as far as he can reach while he’s panting into Jin’s mouth and having his lower lip sucked. Jin kicks them off and manages to get Pi’s jeans off, too, with some creative use of his left foot.
Jin licks his thumb and pushes his hand under Pi’s shirt to rub his right nipple. Then, when Pi surges up to kiss him harder, Jin tugs on Yamapi’s arrow piercing again and grinds his erection against Yamapi’s.
"Harder," Pi groans. "Pull it harder."
Jin carefully tugs it even farther up and is gratified to feel Yamapi's fingers digging into his body. Switching tracks, he gets Pi’s cock in hand and grins when Yamapi groans, harsh and short.
“Feel good?” Jin murmurs.
“Don’t porn talk at me,” Pi laughs, breathless.
"Fine," Jin says. He puts his hand over Pi’s mouth, smirking.
Yamapi gives him a half-sarcastic, half-deeply turned on look and licks Jin’s hand thoroughly. His eyes squeeze shut when Jin wraps his wet fingers around Pi’s dick.
Pi's mouth is bitten and wet and–
“Fuck,” Jin exhales.
Yamapi breathes out, shaky, and makes small noises of approval as Jin pulls him off.
Jin’s just about to complain about the lack of reciprocation when Yamapi licks his own palm and gently twists his hand around the base of Jin’s cock. For a while, it’s enough just to feel Yamapi panting against his mouth, but then Jin gets impatient and slips his tongue between Yamapi’s bitten lips to stroke against Yamapi’s curled tongue. Yamapi exhales in one long moan as he comes, jerking against Jin’s hip, and the sound of it brings Jin off, keening into Pi’s mouth.
When he can distinguish which body parts are his and which are Yamapi’s, Jin settles into the space between the couch and Pi.
“That was kind of awesome,” he says. Then, to illustrate the similarity between the two, he adds, “Sort of.”
Yamapi nods, making an enlightened noise, and mouths Jin’s throat.
Jin blinks. “What, already?”
“No,” Pi says between kisses, “you’ve got popcorn butter on your neck.”
“Oh,” Jin says. “Carry on, then.” He picks up Pi’s phone and writes out a mail to Ryo-chan.
We’d like seconds on sex. Come over! (Bring snacks.)
Fandom: JE - NEWS/KAT-TUN
Pairing/characters: Yamapi/Jin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,500~
Disclaimer: Total fiction.
Summary: Fun with popcorn! Or: Horny and easily distracted idols give each other handjobs.
Note: For the "piercings" square of Kink Bingo.
With a bowl of popcorn balanced on his forehead, Yamapi asks, “In English, what’s the difference between ‘kind of’ and ‘sort of’?”
Jin says, “No idea,” and takes a handful from the bowl. “Aw, half of these are still kernels. How long did you put it in for?”
“That’s what she said,” Yamapi says in English, solemn.
Jin cackles. “Yeah she did,” he agrees.
“Want to watch a movie?”
“Not really.”
“Karaoke?”
“No.”
“Sex?”
“Sure. Obviously.”
Neither one of them moves. Jin’s excuse is that he’s got a pretty sweet setup on the floor–Yamapi’s down comforter under him, a bottle of imported iced tea vodka, and a cat’s cradle string thing that one of his backup dancers gave him as a joke to play with on the plane back to Japan. He can do some basic stuff with it, but mostly it’s just fun to knot his fingers up and make bondage jokes.
Pi’s just lying on the couch with popcorn on his head; Japan’s mighty sex symbol in its natural environment.
Yamapi flops one arm out and hits Jin in the shoulder. “Bring me sex,” he says.
“Get it yourself,” Jin says.
“I asked you to do it,” Yamapi says.
“Do it yourself,” Jin says, then, struck by brilliance, he says in English, “Do it to yourself,” and snickers.
Yamapi’s lips purse like he’s considering it. Then, “Too much work.”
“Lazy.”
“And horny,” Yamapi says sadly. He reaches up to take a handful of popcorn from the bowl. Even his chewing sounds disappointed.
Jin’s not horny, really. Or, well, no more than usual. His sense of time is still fucked up since it’s two in the afternoon in California, and like, okay. If sex were to present itself, he’d be game, but he’s really not up to the task of getting dressed and going out and searching for someone who isn’t A) crazy, B) a fan, or C) actually looking to bang Yamapi. Or all three.
“We should make Ryo-chan bring us sex,” Yamapi says.
“Yeah,” Jin says. He picks up Pi’s phone and keys in Ryo’s number.
“’lo?”
“Ryo-chan!” Jin sings. “Bring us sex.”
“…I fucking hate you,” Ryo groans in Osaka dialect so garbled Jin bursts out laughing and doesn’t hear anything else Ryo says.
“What’d he say?” Pi asks, and cackles when Jin repeats it for him.
Ryo hangs up on them and turns off his phone.
“How cold,” Jin says.
Yamapi gives a forlorn sigh. “Now how will we get sex brought to us?”
“Call Takizawa,” Jin says, smirking.
“Shut up,” Yamapi says. “You’re just jealous of the lust we share.”
Jin won’t lie, he kind of is. Takizawa’s almost thirty, but he’s still freakishly young looking and. Well. Abs.
“Jin, you’re not actually thinking about Takizawa-kun, are you?”
“I am,” Jin says, disturbed. “Stop me.”
Yamapi’s hand flails out to pat his head in something vaguely resembling comfort. “Thirteen-year-old girls stronger than you have fallen before his charms,” he says.
“Shut up,” Jin mutters. And since that was lame, he adds, “You have bacne.”
“I do not! I told you that was a rash!”
“That’s better?”
Yamapi kicks Jin in the head. His body’s jerky movements upend the bowl and popcorn spills out across the floor. Pi shouts, “Jin!” like Jin did it.
“There goes the last good part of this night,” Jin says.
“We suck,” Yamapi sighs. “Want to make another bag?”
“No. Now I want to get laid. Go get dressed.”
Yamapi makes a face. “I haven’t even showered yet. I’m covered in work. And I don’t want to go out. I’m hungry. And stop trying to look down my shirt.”
Jin grins from where he’s leaning over the armrest and pulling on Yamapi’s T-shirt collar. “You totally still have the bacne. I can see one.”
“Liar. That’s a mosquito bite.”
“What are you eating that you get bacne?”
“It’s summer! It’s a mosquito bite.”
“Or it could be bacne.”
“Mosquito bite.”
“Bacne.”
“MOSQUITO!”
“BACNE!”
There are more conventional ways to lead up to a kiss, but Jin and Yamapi have tried those before and they’re not all that special, really, once you get past the novelty.
Yamapi grabs a fistful of Jin’s hair and brings him in so close that Jin has to climb onto the couch and straddle Yamapi’s hips. Yamapi’s mouth tastes like popcorn and something slightly sour around the lips, but after Jin ups the pace and sucks on Yamapi’s tongue for a while, all tastes are indistinguishable from each other.
Jin skims Pi’s teeth with the tip of his tongue and finds a sliver of popcorn kernel stuck between two canines. With just a few strokes of his masterful tongue it comes loose and Jin pulls back with a smug smile.
“Sexier than a cherry stem,” Jin says, displaying the popcorn sliver on the tip of his tongue.
Yamapi’s drowsy grin dissolves into a blank stare. “That’s what you were doing with my teeth?”
“Yeah. It was bothering me.”
“Bakani–no, fuck it. You’re weird, but whatever.”
Jin shrugs and hums when Yamapi arches his neck and kisses him hard.
Yamapi’s wearing an assortment of accessories that make lying on top of him an uncomfortable experience—his wing-tipped belt buckle, his silver shark tooth necklace, his navel piercing—wait.
“I thought you took that out,” Jin says, palming Yamapi’s stomach. The thing is sharp. Like an arrow or something. Jin pulls up the hem of Pi’s shirt and stares at a small metal arrow pointing down. “Subtle.”
Yamapi grins. “It’s a fishhook,” he says.
Jin leans his weight on one arm and pulls his own shirt up with his free hand. “I think it scratched me,” he says.
“This isn’t sexy,” Yamapi points out. “You’re ruining the mood with your clumsiness.”
Jin gives him a look. “There was a mood?”
“Kind of,” Yamapi says. “Sort of? Hey, really, what’s the difference?”
Jin rolls his eyes and yanks his shirt off, then sets to work on Pi’s belt buckle.
“Kind of sounds better,” Yamapi says, helping not at all. “Sort of sounds like ‘sawed off.’”
“That’s because your pronunciation is shit,” Jin says. “Take off your pants.”
“Where’d my belt go?”
“I don’t care. Behind the couch somewhere. Pants.” Keeping Pi on task for sex usually isn’t this much of a challenge. “Come on, I’m not even hard anymore.”
Yamapi pauses in pushing his jeans down. “You were hard? When?”
Jin shoves Pi’s shoulders into the leather armrest and fuses their mouths together just to get him to shut. The fuck. Up.
Yamapi smirks against his mouth, bringing Jin to the familiar conclusion that his best friend is an asshole.
Jin slips one arm behind Pi’s neck and slides the other one under Pi’s shirt. He thumbs the ridges of Pi’s stomach with just a hint of thumbnail, then twists the piercing and rolls his hips with a particularly pointed snap.
Pi’s hitched breath makes him do it over and over again until Pi shudders.
Pi hooks the waistband of Jin’s sweatpants and pushes them down as far as he can reach while he’s panting into Jin’s mouth and having his lower lip sucked. Jin kicks them off and manages to get Pi’s jeans off, too, with some creative use of his left foot.
Jin licks his thumb and pushes his hand under Pi’s shirt to rub his right nipple. Then, when Pi surges up to kiss him harder, Jin tugs on Yamapi’s arrow piercing again and grinds his erection against Yamapi’s.
"Harder," Pi groans. "Pull it harder."
Jin carefully tugs it even farther up and is gratified to feel Yamapi's fingers digging into his body. Switching tracks, he gets Pi’s cock in hand and grins when Yamapi groans, harsh and short.
“Feel good?” Jin murmurs.
“Don’t porn talk at me,” Pi laughs, breathless.
"Fine," Jin says. He puts his hand over Pi’s mouth, smirking.
Yamapi gives him a half-sarcastic, half-deeply turned on look and licks Jin’s hand thoroughly. His eyes squeeze shut when Jin wraps his wet fingers around Pi’s dick.
Pi's mouth is bitten and wet and–
“Fuck,” Jin exhales.
Yamapi breathes out, shaky, and makes small noises of approval as Jin pulls him off.
Jin’s just about to complain about the lack of reciprocation when Yamapi licks his own palm and gently twists his hand around the base of Jin’s cock. For a while, it’s enough just to feel Yamapi panting against his mouth, but then Jin gets impatient and slips his tongue between Yamapi’s bitten lips to stroke against Yamapi’s curled tongue. Yamapi exhales in one long moan as he comes, jerking against Jin’s hip, and the sound of it brings Jin off, keening into Pi’s mouth.
When he can distinguish which body parts are his and which are Yamapi’s, Jin settles into the space between the couch and Pi.
“That was kind of awesome,” he says. Then, to illustrate the similarity between the two, he adds, “Sort of.”
Yamapi nods, making an enlightened noise, and mouths Jin’s throat.
Jin blinks. “What, already?”
“No,” Pi says between kisses, “you’ve got popcorn butter on your neck.”
“Oh,” Jin says. “Carry on, then.” He picks up Pi’s phone and writes out a mail to Ryo-chan.
We’d like seconds on sex. Come over! (Bring snacks.)
