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JE Fic: "Blame Yourself Only" (Jin/Yamapi, Jin/KAT-TUN)
Title: Blame Yourself Only
Pairing/Group: Jin/Yamapi, Jin/KAT-TUN
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex. Angst. Language.
Summary: Written for the White Day Remix, this fic is a remix of the FANTASTIC Don't Blame Yourself Only by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mousapelli. I am SO SO SO nervous about this, as I've never done a remix before, so I really hope you like it.
Nakamaru, text mass-sent to [group 1] at 8.02am.
So, okay, has anybody had any ideas about cheering Jin up? I thought about a surprise party. What do you guys think?
Junno, text sent to [Nakamaru] at 8.03am.
Sure! I'll bake a cake! I'll even ice it. How about: to Akanishi-kun, keep your jin up! :D
Koki, text sent to [Yo, Maru] at 9.35am.
Yeah, sounds good. I'll do the music. Junno's not baking anything, is he?
Ueda, text sent to [Nakamaru Yuichi] at 12.06pm.
I think he's had enough partying for one lifetime. What about a book token instead?
Texts written by Kame, but unsent to [Maru] at 8.30am, 10.04am, 11.34am, 1.10pm, 2.45pm.
Why do we have to-
I just think that we should-
Jin's always feeling-
You know, maybe we should leave him be-
It's always about Jin, isn't it.
Jin, text sent to [MaruMaruMaru!] at 3.35pm.
Were you supposed to send this to me?
Jin heads back to his apartment with a smirk on his face. He loves surprise parties, sure, but sometimes it's so much nicer to look forward to something. He wonders what the rest of the band said in response to the message: chances are Junno will be up for it, but Jin can't see Ueda or Kame being keen. Jin's not sure what Kame's problem is at the moment. There's an underlying resentment in everything that he says, as if Jin's presence is an inconvenience. Jin's used to being deliberately inconvenient. Being accidentally so is frustrating.
A lot of things are frustrating at the moment. Jin's not sure when they started being that way, or how to make them stop. Every day, he feels as though he's swallowing down more and more of himself, losing sight of his dreams and his motivation towards obtaining them. They're big thoughts, those, so unsurprisingly he skulks around in a bad mood a lot of the time. Horny, too, because sex is one of the weird things that helps with things he can't otherwise express.
When he gets home, Yamapi is in the living room, surrounded by strewn crisps and some kind of lurid orange dipping sauce. He tilts his head up when he hears the door open, so that he looks at Jin upside down.
“Crisp?” he says, and Jin just leans against the door frame with folded arms.
“Oh,” Yamapi says. “Not crisp. Okay. Bedroom it is, then.”
Nakamaru, text mass-sent to hastily revised [group 1] at 8.15pm.
Surprise party is out. Sorry, sorry. Any other ideas?
There are no replies to this one.
Yamapi knows that Jin is into sex. This is okay, mainly because it has obvious benefits for him. Yamapi also knows that he and Jin aren't tied down, and that's okay too, because they're both too busy to build something on top of what they already have. They take their easy transitions when they come, because little about their lives is that simple. That Jin has shagged his entire band in one way or another should surprise or offend Yamapi more than it actually does, but instead Yamapi quite enjoys the thought of it. Jin with certain people, anyway.
Everything that he knows can be condensed into this one single, simple moment. Jin straddles him, pushing into Yamapi's tight fist, his eyes screwed tight and his breath fanning hard. That's easy, uncomplicated and really fucking hot. When Yamapi digs a hand into his own jeans, Jin sees it, moves forwards hard and ends it with a single, deep groan. It's the second time in twenty minutes.
“Jin,” Yamapi says, laughing, because it's all he can do when Jin's such a fucking slut, and he has an unattended hard-on of his own. “Are you done, or is it my turn now?”
“What,” Jin says, lazily, his hand slipping on Yamapi's sticky one. “I don't understand,”
“Nothing, nothing,” Yamapi says, still snickering. “It's just that, generally, it's considered bad form not to take turns.”
“Oh,” Jin says, stretching. “Sorry. It just felt really good, and-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yamapi says, smacking the back of his thigh, then massaging in. “You have no stamina, idiot. This is not exactly a seductive experience.”
“What isn't seductive?” Jin says, indignant. His face falls a bit when Yamapi smirks, draws Jin's hand down his own jeans, but he regains pride quickly and easily, as he always has.
“I'll have you know,” he says, drawing himself up to his full height and sniffing disdainfully, “that I am a PARAGON of both seduction and endurance!”
Hah, Yamapi thinks. Yeah, right. Prove it. He leans over as Jin shrinks petulantly away, grabs him and kisses his collarbone until Jin is shaking beneath him.
“You and endurance go together like pickles and ramen,” he says. “Face it, Jin. You aren't exactly in it for the long haul.”
“You're just jealous,” Jin narrows his eyes and nips Yamapi's skin, directing him back to his collarbone. “Because after an orgasm you need a two-hour nap to even think about having another one.”
“It isn't like you're having a half-dozen of them at a clip,” Yamapi retorts, wishing that everybody would stop talking about orgasms so damn much.
“Five,” Jin says, full of gleaming ambition, and Yamapi knows immediately that he's not talking about what he's planning to do to Yamapi to make it up to him. Despite himself, he plays along. Jin rolls over towards him and says, all teasing, all fucking smug,
“KAT-TUN has a PV shoot tomorrow,” he says.
When Yamapi looks at him encouragingly, he continues, “We're scheduled all day, until we're done."
The feel of Jin's hand touching his chest, the vague nagging in the back of his brain telling him that Jin's come twice and he hasn't at all, it almost drowns out the taunt that follows.
“I bet I can get all five.”
“Of your bandmates?” Yamapi asks, startled. That's doing nothing for his hard-on. “Jin, don't you think that's a little…”
“I get all day,” Jin is poking him in the cheek as if he's counting out the minutes in a day. “And if I win, you take me shopping in Harajuku.”
Yamapi's not sure what's in it for him, but there's a light in Jin's face that he hasn't seen for far too long. Still. There needs to be rules. He's not about to lose a fight, even if his opponent is Jin's libido.
“You have to come too!” Yamapi grabs Jin's wrist and slowly licks Jin's finger. His hips are going loosely against Jin's thigh, hoping that Jin will catch the anvil-sized hint. “All five times. No cheating by just cornering them all into quick blowjobs. And if you lose, you buy me dinner anywhere I want. All this talk of your mouth and meat has given me a craving for yakiniku.”
Jin laughs, seals their deal with the secret handshake and a kiss, then rolls over. The sudden removal of his thighs, of the friction, makes Yamapi protest.
“Hey! What about me?”
There's a rough chuckle, and Jin's eyes as he turns his head. Yamapi glares at him, the throbbing now impossible to ignore.
“Well, I have to save up for tomorrow,” Jin says, and to his credit, doesn't react when Yamapi leans over and digs his nails into his back.
Yamapi waits for Jin to fall asleep, heads off grumpily to the bathroom and strips off his clothes. He turns the shower on and leans against the tile. As he waits for it to get warm, he takes his cock in hand and strokes it, the final relief of a touch better than the hot water running down his back. It isn't going to take long, he decides, so to hell with it-
He often finds that he comes hardest when he thinks about Ueda or Kame giving Jin the what-for he finds that he can't. Kame with a hand clamped over Jin's mouth and a growl of instruction in his throat, a “don't you dare, don't you dare come yet, get your hand around me, you slut-”
That. Yes, that.
Junno's apartment is flooded from the freakish week of wintery rain they've had, and so he spends most of his time camping out at Kame's or Maru's. On the day that they're to film Lips, he goes to the studio early, intending to catch some shut-eye. It's hard to sleep in other people's houses, Junno's found. Kame tends to play music even when he wants to sleep, and Maru's just noisy, and Junno doesn't have the heart to tell either of them to be quiet. He's the guest, after all.
There's a comfortable sofa in the dressing room, and Junno doesn't expect anybody to be around for another hour, so he dozes off quite happily.
He's awoken rudely once again when Jin strides through the door. Junno is a bit cross about the cancellation of Jin's surprise party: he misses making cakes for people, and he thought his Jin-pun was pretty good, too good to waste. So he's not all that cordial when Jin greets him. Of course, Jin's greeting is pretty rude, too, so it balances out.
“Hey,” Jin says, and then, accusingly, “nobody else is here.”
“You really RED the situation,” Junno replies in a sleepy voice muffled by his arm, “AKAnishi-kun.”
Junno is so used to the band despairing of his jokes that he almost uses them as a weapon now: success measured in groaning rather than in laughter. So it surprises him when Jin laughs because Jin is never amused, not even when Junno comes up with a first class sort of pun, the sort of pun that made the actors fall about laughing when they were filming Yukan Club. Jin's humour is a particularly stupid kind, so Junno opens his eyes suspiciously, and looks at him.
“You don't think my jokes are funny. What's up with you?”
Jin drops onto him, and what's up with Jin is fairly evident, digging into Junno's thigh. Junno barely has a moment to raise an eyebrow before Jin's flashing him a wide smile, a tossed platitude, you're just really cute this morning, and then kissing him, hard.
When his brain begins to function again, Junno realises that his shirt is half off and his trousers aren't far behind, Jin's hand rummaging around as if he's hunting out treasure. There's barely a moment to say anything at all, until Jin undoes his own zipper with his free hand and Junno suddenly sees what's about to happen.
“Jin!” he splutters, as Jin kneels on the sofa and over Junno, getting comfortable with an ungh of exertion. A part of him is worried about being caught, but a bigger part is aware of the period of sexual drought he's gone through recently and the faint memory of how fucking nice Jin's hands are, and-
Jin strokes the both of them with the one hand, calling Junno cute, cute, only from his mouth it sounds vaguely dirty. There are lines of restraint in Jin's face, as if he's actually for once holding back for the sake of getting somebody else off, and Junno can't help but admit that he's impressed. Impressed for a nanosecond, before Jin reaches over for Junno's hand, places it on his own cock. Jin and selfless don't exactly go together, Junno thinks, but still, it's nice, they find a rhythm together and there's kissing, kissing and one of Jin's undulating moans, and Junno no longer cares who's doing what as long as it sounds and feels like this. He looks up at Jin and feels like he's drowning in it.
“Ne,” Jin murmurs, “the others might come in any minute, you know? Mmm, it's exciting, right? Thinking about them finding us like this, your cock in my hand…”
The part of Junno that was worried about that very predicament now finds it indescribably hot. Damnit, damnit, he needs to find somebody to do this that isn't Jin, but then again, the thought of being caught, the thought of being watched-
"J-jin!" he stutters, eyes finally closing. It doesn't matter: he knows that Jin's smirking at the telltale shudder of him losing control and sure enough, a second later, there's a groan and Junno's hand is wet.
Maru tries to talk to Kame as they all go out onto the set, but Kame seems unresponsive to topics pertaining to Jin and his supposed unhappiness. He hasn't got an answer for why he never replied to Maru's text message – not one that doesn't make him sound immature and silly. Jin is a person who broadcasts his unhappiness so loudly and so widely that people feel compelled to help him. Kame gets that people don't usually notice he's unhappy, because Kame is a person who squashes unhappiness down to get the job down. Sometimes, though, the injustice kind of irritates him, and on the whole, Kame doesn't feel charitable towards Jin or his problems.
He tries to tell Maru as much, but it doesn't come out right, so they move onto other things. Maru notes it, though, and when Jin switches off during the director's briefing he nudges him hard. When Jin's eyes refocus, Maru notices that Kame is glaring at them both, and he almost wants to hack Jin's arm clean off for flashing a 'V' sign at him with that cheeky look on his face.
“Fucking hell,” he says, to Jin, as they all disperse for their individual shots. Koki brushes past them both, headed for a bathroom break. “You need to lay off him a bit. He's feeling tense.”
Jin isn't listening. Jin is heading off after Koki, and Maru stares after him, scratching the back of his neck in thought.
“Hey,” Koki says, conversationally, as he pushes open the door, looking over his shoulder at Jin. “Are you going to follow me the whole way into the—URK!”
Apparently, Jin is. Jin is a big fan of fooling around on set, which has often suited Koki (more times than he cares to count), but never in a bathroom cubicle. And never quite this aggressively. Koki prides himself on being the aggressor in most on-set-fooling-around-scenarios, but this time Jin seems to have the upper hand. Pressing back against the wall, Jin pulls Koki in close, and Koki doesn't feel like arguing with him.
The kiss is hard, rough, without pretensions: Jin's head goes back against the wall and his hat falls off. Koki works a knee between his legs and Jin greedily bears down on it, his hands in Koki's hair and flicking his cap off. It makes Jin laugh, until Koki kisses that out of him, too.
“Like the costume?” he asks, breaking the kiss and working on Jin's buttons, which as ever are complicated and irritating. Jin is humming and rolling his hips, and they could be the exact same fucking thing because Koki feels both of them in his groin, and it's all he can do to clumsily return the compliment. Jin tilts his head back, almost as if he's demanding something more than a choice snippet of appreciation, so Koki nibbles the length of his jaw until he groans, loud, too loud. It's then that Jin needs a break, turning around in the cubicle so that he can press his face against the cold door and breathe.
It gives Koki free range over Jin's earlobe, his arms snaking around Jin's waist and pulling him closer.
“I'd like to see you on your knees, looking up at me with those eyes,” he says, gravel-thick in Jin's ear, a smirk spreading over his face. Jin's eyeliner is really something, to be fair. And Jin does give the best blowjobs. Koki runs a hand down Jin's stomach, up under his shirt and then down into his trousers, working the fly until he can feel Jin's cock in his hand. Jin thrusts the moment he touches it, a small noise escaping out of the corners of his mouth. Jin's thinking about blowjobs too, it seems.
Ah, not blowjobs, Koki realises, as Jin pants, “want you”, and takes a foil wrapper out of his pocket. A part of Koki is surprised that he's come prepared, but then this is Jin, and the only thing Jin seems capable of deftly organising is his own sex life. He turns his face over his shoulder and looks at Koki, and when Koki grins Jin almost sneers, and that only makes Koki smirk more. There's a roll that appears in Jin's hips when Koki smirks, and that's an ego-boost and a half. Crossly, he passes back lube, as well, and tries to breathe against the metal of the door, tries to maintain some dignity.
Koki doesn't say a word, even when he pushes inside him – words don't tend to come into it with them, it's the way Jin likes it. It isn't gentle and it isn't rough, just casually intrusive, the way Koki is with all things, and Jin's breath is hard as he takes it, his hand working on his cock for a bit of balance until it feels good. He pushes back when it does, pushes back when he wants more, and that's a green light to Koki, a little signal that allows him free reign. Koki reaches out and holds his hips, directing the pace, yanking Jin back against him and feeling the cold press of his belt buckle between his thighs and Jin's. From there, it descends into a kind of madness: harsh and jerky and fucking fantastic, if Koki says so himself.
The words start at that moment, and at that moment it's filthy, filthy, filthy. Koki likes to tell Jin how tight he is, how hot it is, how he can see his hands all splayed out around the doorframe and how he's moaning just like a whore, stupid, tacky things that he never remembers afterwards but Jin seems to enjoy at the time. It never takes all that long, because Jin responds best to a dirty mouth and a hard pair of hips, and they're mostly there when the bathroom door opens.
“Jin, you're up, are you nearly ready?” Maru calls through, and it's so horribly apt that Jin laughs in a choked sort of way, and Koki smacks the back of his thigh in desperation because the sudden tightness is almost too much to bear.
“Don't stop,” Jin says, and Koki knows that he should do the exact opposite of what Jin wants, but he's never able to do that, and so he lets Jin take his hand and work it around his cock, and he lets Jin push backwards and forwards between two pleasures until he cries out around the back of his hand, hard enough to leave bite marks.
“Hey, Yuichi,” Koki calls back, voice full of mischief, and Jin tries to squirm away. He would have succeeded, but for the press of Koki's sticky hand against his stomach keeping him still. “C'mere and see this.”
It's too good not to share, Koki thinks, and Maru doesn't get nearly enough of Jin's affections.
Tentatively, Maru creeps into the stall, hastily jamming the door behind him when he sees the extent of what's been going on. Jin sets to work removing his vest, before Maru has a chance to argue with him, and there's only a slight bit of discomfort as Maru bangs his elbow, cursing the width of the stall.
“You weren't listening to me before,” he says. “About Kame.”
“Oh, fuck, don't talk about that,” Jin says, and Koki grunts an agreement, moving an arm around Jin to assist with Maru's belt-buckle. Jin buries his mouth in Maru's neck as Koki frees his cock, stroking him hard without much ado. He's slowed down completely inside Jin, and Jin seems grateful for the time-out, as much as Koki's gritting his teeth through it.
“Do you want him on his-” Koki begins, motioning to Jin, who turns his face up and gives Maru a big-eyed sort of pleading look.
“Ne,” he says. “Let me? Please?”
Maru knows that Jin wants to fuck him. He also knows that this is a very bad idea: Jin is already late for his shot, and it'll take him another ten minutes to get hard again, and that's probably too much time for Koki and too little time for him and really, he wishes that Kame has come into the bathroom instead, because Kame wouldn't have ended up in the stall, crushed against Jin, with Koki staring competitively into his eyes.
“I really think-” he begins, only Koki's doing that thing where he agrees with Jin, only it's in a grunt rather than in words and that really does Maru in. And Jin is sliding a hand down the back of his jeans, his fingers all wet with lube he's got from Koki's cock, presumably, dirty little slut, and there's really no way of going back on it now.
“Alright,” he says, grumpily, “careful with the boots,” as Jin unlaces them, giving him time to look into Koki's eyes and the mischief within.
“I hate you,” he says. “We're so screwed. We'll all be killed.”
Only nobody is listening, Jin is too busy working Maru's legs around his waist, Maru being careful with his feet only the press of Koki's stomach against Jin's ass is the best thing his feet have ever felt in their lives. As he's thinking about his feet, Koki moves forward, and so Jin moves forward, and the three of them make a noise that really is far too loud.
“Screwed,” Maru echoes, miserably. “Wait, wait-”
Only Jin can't, and the hand that moves between Maru's legs is apologetic and needy and his face pressed up against Maru's neck is moaning apologies, gasps all over his collarbone, thick like honey. And when Koki's hand joins Jin's, it stops feeling raw and it starts feeling good, and screwed starts being a good thing.
“Wish I could see this,” Koki stutters, finding his rhythm, barely able to speak because he's held back the longest. “it must be hotter than hell, fuck, Jin,” a warning, because Jin knows what that means only too well, and it's only because of him being still sensitive that he isn't right there with Koki. Their hands are fast and demanding and aggressive: Maru has to come, and quickly, and neither of them will take no for an answer. And Maru wonders, not for the first time, why he continually allows himself to be drawn into situations with these young things, these things he can't keep up with, let alone hope to dominate one day.
And it's that feeling, that hopeless abandon and the dual-sensation of two hard hands and Jin's awkward, inelegant thrusting, that pushes him over the edge. His nails are hard in Jin's shoulders and Koki's talking to Jin, talking him through it, all come on baby, come on, and that's more than enough, way more than enough, and Jin cries out so loud and so hard that it seems the bathroom walls vibrate. It's as much pain as it is pleasure and Koki is so fucking pleased, so fucking thrilled to have been last again that the noise he makes is almost a crow of triumph.
There's a long pause of heavy breathing, which Maru breaks when he complains that everybody is crushing him against the wall. Normally, Koki would ignore him because Maru often finds things to complain about even after sex, only Maru is lightly kicking Jin's back and Koki's stomach, and Koki dislikes kicking things anywhere near his groin, so.
“I'm telling Kame on you,” Maru says, as he lowers himself down and tries to breathe. Jin half-collapses against Koki, who groans as his legs regain feeling.
“Shut up,” he says. “Or your boots are going in the toilet.”
When they go back onto the set, Kame is furious, and the director isn't best pleased, either. Jin shrugs the both of them off, putting his necklace in his mouth and dropping it with a wide, post-coital smirk that the camera just adores.
“Sorry,” Maru says to Kame, later, and Kame just shrugs a bit, unsure of what to say.
“He's always like this,” he manages, eventually. “It's no big deal.”
“I kind of encouraged him,” Maru admits, sheepishly. “I'm sorry. I failed you. I am a bad messenger, you should shoot me.”
Kame just looks at him, quizzical and kind of amused, despite himself. “It's fine,” he says. “I'm practicing being less uptight. It's good for my blood pressure.”
“I didn't know you had high blood pressure,” Maru comments.
“Yeah, well,” Kame says, thoughtful, tired. “You just get on with it, don't you. Or, you know, you should. For everyone's sakes.”
“You should talk to him,” Maru says. “It'd help.”
“He doesn't listen,” Kame says. “He never has.”
“You need to choose your moment,” Maru replies. “He'll listen if you make him listen.”
Ueda's aware of what Jin's doing. Heck, most of Japan is probably aware of it by now, that's how indiscreet Jin is. People who've never even met Jin are probably reeling from the shock waves cast across the country from all the shagging Jin's doing when they're supposed to be filming. Ueda's always thought that Jin would be a better entertainer if he actually did some hard work from time to time. He never says as much because occasionally, the benefits seem to come his way.
Jin comes into the break room with him during lunch, padding around with a fake kind of nonchalance that's as irritating as it is cute.
“I was wondering when you'd get to me,” Ueda comments.
As if Ueda's committed some cardinal sin in beating Jin at his own game, Jin flops onto the sofa and shrilly questions Ueda's omnipotence.
“It isn't like you're very ninja or anything,” Ueda says, shrugging, taking his can of grape Fanta with a wrinkle of his nose. The vending machine is out of everything good, again. He turns to Jin, then, suddenly realising that the order Jin's working implies a hierarchy, and not being at the top of that hierarchy is hardly acceptable.
“I'm number four?” he says, as if challenging Jin to come up with an explanation.
“You were supposed to be three!” Jin says, eyes wide. “But Nakamaru snuck himself in with Koki. You were supposed to be in the middle, because you're the hardest.”
Giving good head isn't the only thing Jin does well with his mouth, Ueda thinks, and smiles accordingly.
“Kame's last?” he says, a little surprised, because once Kame's heard all about Jin's shagging exploits, chances are he won't want anything to do with it. Kame's stubborn like that.
“He's easiest,” Jin explains, and that makes Ueda laugh, little lamb-like Jin, so naïve and so cute. He takes his drink over to the sofa, sauntering towards Jin like a wolf.
“You stole my hips!” Jin protests, but it's not a serious accusation, given the way he's looking at them.
“I taught you those hips in the first place,” Ueda says, setting the can down on the arm of the sofa. He leans over, kisses Jin's mouth to silence it, because Jin can get annoyingly competitive in a slanging match. When they break apart, Jin's about to open his mouth again, so Ueda drops gracefully to his knees in-between Jin's thighs. That shuts Jin up for good.
“Far be it from me to block your ambitions, Jin-chan. You'll return the favor, right?”
Stunned, Jin nods, and content, Ueda makes steady work of Jin's jeans. Ueda doesn't like to be rushed, so he's pleased that Jin's picked lunchtime to corner him. Ueda likes to take his time, and he especially likes to do so with Jin, who appreciates it not a single bit.
Jin can't be anything but appreciative this lunch-time, because he's never had Ueda between his knees before. He's had Ueda's tentative touch on him as Ueda's writhed in his lap before. He's even had Ueda behind him in a bathroom cubicle before. But never this, never, ever this. His eyes are reeling with the shock of it, the trembling surprise of watching Ueda slowly take his cock in his mouth.
Ueda takes it to the back of his mouth, which seems to shock Jin to the core: there's something about Ueda that people mistake as fragility. Ueda sometimes likes it rough, the way the sun sometimes likes to shine even in the middle of winter. Ueda defies other people's expectations. And when giving blowjobs, he tends to take it in as far as he can get it.
Jin's eyes are full of wonder as Ueda sucks, and everything is desperately quiet, save for the hard rhythm of Jin's breathing and the click of Ueda's tongue. Ueda's hands curl gracefully around Jin's thighs and he moves his head with ease, as if it's somehow Jin's fault for never pressing the right buttons, for never finding the combination to unlock this side of him. Jin's regretting never doing so. He's regretting never having known about this before, never having the pleasure of seeing Ueda like this.
The noise he makes is surprising, after all the quiet. It's as if Ueda drags it out of him, rough-sounding from the hard shape of his mouth. When Ueda pulls back, he's suckling on his lower lip, and Jin realises that he's trembling from head to foot. Ueda climbs up onto the sofa and rubs Jin's back, which is a little bit more surprising that him giving head, truth be told. Jin moves into it instinctively, gratefully, pulling himself together.
“I am pretty amazing, huh,” Ueda says, and it's not really a question, it never is with Ueda.
“As if,” Jin says, when he regains his words and his sense of balance. He shoves Ueda down onto his back, grinning so that his teeth show. Ueda quirks an eyebrow, hair strewn out, his shirt sliding over one muscular shoulder. It makes him laugh, that Jin is so easy to manipulate, that his buttons are so shiny and red and pressable.
Jin's blowjobs remind Ueda of being a teenager, they're always hurried, as if they're about to be caught in the act. He'd never tell Jin, but that's what he likes about them. There's something deliciously underhand about it, something terribly kinky. As Jin bobs his head, Ueda feels his eyes fall closed, feels the soft fall of Jin's hair between his fingers and the little tingle of warning in his belly. He reaches out a hand and strokes Jin's face, tells him so, only Jin never realises that's what it means until it's a little too late and he has to swallow hard to avoid choking.
Ueda opens his eyes slowly, his whole body tingling, a small smile on his face. “Thanks for working hard,” he says, as Jin kisses him, long and unusual-tasting, and that's kinky, too. Ueda shows his gratitude by tucking them both back in and buying Jin a coffee.
“You'll need it,” he says, as they walk back onto set, nudging Jin towards Kame with the edge of his hip.
“What?” Jin says, suddenly panicked, because in his head he had more time to prepare for Kame than this. Ueda just looks at him and nods, stoically.
“Go,” he says. “Or I'll kick your ass.”
It makes Jin laugh, Ueda winking, fundamentally ridiculous as it is. He has to hide his face behind his coffee can, so that Kame doesn't get the wrong idea. Not that Kame really cares what the right idea actually is.
Koki watches Jin go with a shocked expression on his face.
“You've got balls,” he says, and Jin nibbles his lower lip.
“Let's hope Kame doesn't feed them to him,” Maru remarks conspiratorially, although of course, Jin can quite clearly hear him.
“I have to do it,” Jin says. “That was the deal.”
“Is Harajuku worth this?” Koki asks, looking at Kame, who is staring moodily into a monitor at his own performance.
“Is anything worth this?” Maru echoes.
“Thanks for the support,” Jin says, full of sarcasm and post-coital bravado, swaggering over towards Kame. “It'll be fine.”
“Go away, Jin,” Kame says, holding up his hand before Jin gets within a meter of him.
“Ouch,” Koki says, scurrying off. “Come on,” he says to Maru. “Let's rearrange something.”
“I'm just saying 'hello',” Jin says, hovering. He tries his hardest to leave the whine out of his tone, but there's a part of him that's so damn pissed off with Kame that it's not entirely successful.
“No, I mean it,” Kame says. “I don't want to play or chat or be Yamapi's cuddling stand-in or anything else, and we both know you'll end up crying and everybody will just tell me I'm an asshole. So shoo.”
“Aww,” Jin says, coming closer despite the vitriol. The thing about Kame is that once you've engaged him, it's impossible for him to get rid of you. Kame is only good at the silent treatment, not at arguing. If he's talking to you, it's a good sign.
“I mean it, Jin, I'm tired. Get lost.”
Still. A good sign isn't as good as a great sign. With a sigh of defeat that fools Kame completely, Jin shifts sadly away. At the last moment, he grabs Kame's hat clean off his head and breaks away at a run.
Kame would do anything, anything, to swap Jin with a member of Kanjani8. Any one of them, Kame's not fussed. He's convinced that everything would be easier without Jin. His theory wasn't exactly supported when Jin went away to America, but there are a number of factors that can explain that, Kame tells himself. He definitely didn't miss Jin and he definitely wasn't bored. The fact that he gave up on sex entirely during that time was purely coincidental, and nothing to do with missing the way Jin does things.
There's a part of him that wants to let Jin have his hat, that wants to let Jin does just do whatever, because he's Jin and it'd be like standing in front of a tornado and holding your arms out, but. But. The big problem is that Jin is so fucking annoying and if nobody stands in his way he'll take the roof off, so somebody has to play along, somebody has to fucking stop him.
“AKANISHI JIN,” he hollers, rising to his feet and mashing his fists together. “I AM GOING TO FEED YOU YOUR BALLS.”
It makes Jin laugh so hard that he skids along the corridor and crashes into the nearest wall. Kame just sees him recover himself and sprint off through the nearest door, hat going through last, tantalisingly close. Kame storms in behind him, not thinking about where they're going to end up. He looks around, surprised at the sudden darkness, then realises that they're in a sound booth. Jin is in the corner, eyes glowing mischievously in the dark. Kame slams the door.
“Give me back the hat right now,” he says, low and ominous. “And I promise to kill you quickly.”
Jin is ignoring him, the way Jin always ignores him. He's tilting his head and the hat he's wearing is sliding off, so he puts Kame's on instead. The black suits him better than the white, even in the dark. He cocks his chin at Kame, so confrontational it makes Kame want to hit him. The strange panel-lighting hits Jin's jaw with a kind of softness, and he looks beautiful.
“You could always come and get it,” he says, and it's their relationship in a sentence. Jin tempts Kame with things and then removes them, the moment Kame decides he wants them. It's Kame that has to chase, it's always Kame that has to figure out a way to crack Jin's many and various codes. It's never right there. Never simple.
“Damnit, Jin,” he says, making quick work of the booth and grabbing Jin's wrists. Instinctively, Jin backs up against the soundboard. His eyes are slightly wider, his chin raised. This isn't the reaction he expected. “Why do you always have to act like such a fucking child?”
And then, Jin turns tables, wraps Kame's arms around his back and uses him as leverage, lifting himself up onto the soundboard and curling a leg around his back. “Fuck me,” he says.
Of course.
Kame leaves too long a pause, that's the problem. It lessens the effect of “What the hell is wrong with you?” and by the time he's realised that, Jin's managed to free his wrists and is now gripping Kame's instead. His hips jerk a little against Kame's groin, and it's all he can do not to succumb to a sound.
“I bet Pi I could fuck all five of you in a single day of shooting,” Jin says, leaning forward and planting a hard kiss on Kame, so rude and so presumptuous and so everything Kame's missed so much.
Of course.
“We're in the middle of a shoot,” Kame snarls, drawing back and looking at Jin with a nauseating mixture of disgust and arousal. He's hardening against Jin's thigh and Jin knows it, so he ignores what Kame's saying, rocking against him with lidded eyes. His arms snake around Kame's neck and he looks at him, full of abandon, full of pure, undiluted hedonism.
“Please,” he says, slow and small, making promises he's not even aware he's making. Kame grits his teeth and that makes his moan come out all funny. He curses himself for not having enough strength to resist Jin: it'd be better for them both if he could, but he's never worked out how. There's something about Jin that makes you feel you're the only person in his world, if only for a little while. That feeling is more addictive than anything Kame's ever known. It only strikes him afterwards how hollow and unsatisfying the game they're playing actually is.
“God, oh god, fine,” he says, shoving Jin back from his ear, cross and horny and plain fed up, at himself, at Jin, at everybody. Jin leans back with a faint air of triumph as Kame rifles Jin's pockets for supplies.
“I can't believe you have these here,” he says, almost to himself, and Jin turns his head but doesn't respond. Angrily, he pulls Jin's trousers down over his legs and when he preps him, he doesn't look at Jin. Jin doesn't look at him, either, but he makes noises when he can't choke them back.
Kame doesn't check if he's ready or not and Jin doesn't seem bothered anyway, as Kame slides in, his eyes closing from the brute force of it, the familiarity that's at once happiness and despair. For somebody who was begging two minutes ago, Jin seems as if he's elsewhere: as if this is just another notch on today's bedpost. Kame supposes that it is, but he can't bear it. He's only half-hard. He's only half-there.
“Not very interested?” Kame forces his voice to be casual, but his irritation shows in the way he yanks Jin's hips down, forcing him down onto his elbows and his back. There's anger in Jin's eyes, then, but that's what he wants, some sort of reaction.
“Not sure I can even come again,” Jin grunts, by way of explanation, wrapping a hand around himself. The exertion is obvious and every word, every stroke, makes Kame angrier and angrier. Jin moves his hips against Kame, searching for a rhythm. “Slow down,” he spits. “I have to, or it doesn't count.”
That's really the moment it snaps.
“You are such a fucking whore,” Kame says, and it's said with enough feeling that Jin knows it's more than a game. He tilts his chin up and studies Kame, and there's a darkness in his eyes that reveals far too much about the way even that's turning him on. That look just makes Kame worse: he moves harder, deeper, faster, as if he's challenging Jin to do something about it.
“It's a good thing you're so pretty,” he goes on, as Jin's eyes fall closed and a rough sigh leaves his mouth. “Or you'd be completely fucking useless. But I guess that's how you got here in the first place, huh? It's so easy to look at you and imagine somebody fucking that tight ass of yours.”
“Just like that,” Jin breathes, stroking himself faster, his hips beginning to tilt up. He moves up, wraps an arm around Kame's neck, his head tilting back. Kame presses his mouth to his Adam's apple, at once pleased and horrified. His fingers dig into Jin's hips with the rhythm of his speech but he doesn't touch Jin's cock.
“God,” he goes on. “How much cock have you even had today? Had your whole band and it still isn't enough, is it? I didn't even have to warm you up; you're still greedy from the last person who had you. Who was it, Ueda? Did you have Ueda's pretty little cock up here last?”
“No,” Jin stutters and his hand is almost a blur now, close, his breath thrumming hard and hot in his throat. “Just sucked him off, Koki, oh fuck, it was Koki-”
“I bet it was,” Kame says, leaning down and biting up Jin's neck to his earlobe. His voice is cruel and his head is weird and dark but he's not about to stop, because this is the only way he ever really has Jin. He'll take what he can get. “He likes having you rough, doesn't he? Just like I do: making you take it as hard as you fucking can.”
“Kame,” Jin concedes, almost a sob, the pleasure painful, the need exhausting. He rushes it to make sure, pushing himself over the edge so hard that his voice goes hoarse and his muscles tighten until he's almost shaking. It hurts more than it feels good and Kame's voice is burning him from the outside in.
“Took you long enough,” Kame says, as if he's relieved, and a few seconds later there's a noise that Jin would have mistaken for his own if it weren't for the feel of Kame's telltale jerk. It doesn't seem any more pleasant than it was for Jin and they cling together afterwards, seeking a comfort that's no longer there between them.
“Sorry,” Jin says, eventually. “You were the last one, and I shouldn't have-”
“Stop it,” Kame says, uncomfortably.
“I can't stop shaking,” Jin goes on. “And I think I came on your hat, a bit.”
Kame awkwardly pats him, or tries to, only it fails and makes Jin's voice shudder out and for an awful moment Kame thinks that he's crying. “Fuck, I told you you'd cry, stop it.”
Jin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and shakes his head, because he isn't, he's laughing, only none of it is really that funny.
“And the director didn't notice anything,” Jin says, much later on, with Yamapi as a captive, if dubious, audience. “And we finished the PV, and the moral of the story is that I am a paragon of seduction and endurance.”
“Okay,” Yamapi admits. “But I think you think a paragon is something with a lot of corners.”
Jin laughs, tackling Yamapi to the bed, pleased and triumphant. “Seductive corners!” he cries. “Enduring corners! Check out my corners, Pi.”
“I think enough people have seen your corners for one day,” Yamapi says, nosing Jin's cheek until Jin leans in for a kiss and settles down, body warm against Yamapi's.
Jin doesn't seem worried about this, makes ludicrous statements about going celibate for six months, which Yamapi ignores because six months to Jin is more like two days. In the end, once Yamapi starts taking off Jin's clothes so that they can go to bed, six months is more like forty-five minutes.
The difference is, Yamapi supposes, pretty evident: he lies back on the bed and watches Jin give him head without asking for anything in return.
Jin, text mass-sent to [group 1] at 8.45pm:
Well done, guys. You really cheered me up. Thing is, I think Kame's feeling a bit under the weather right now. Any ideas?
Junno, text sent to [Kame] at 8.46pm:
Feeling pear-shaped? Why not kame to a special party in your honour? :D :D :D
Koki, text sent to [Yo, Maru] at 9.15pm:
Well, we could [text deleted for obscenity]
Maru, text sent to [Kkkkoki] at 9.20pm:
I don't think Kame likes it the way [text deleted for obscenity]
Ueda, text sent to [Akanishi Jin] at 10.20pm:
A BOOK TOKEN.
Kame, text sent to [Jin] at 8.50pm:
Thank you.
Pairing/Group: Jin/Yamapi, Jin/KAT-TUN
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex. Angst. Language.
Summary: Written for the White Day Remix, this fic is a remix of the FANTASTIC Don't Blame Yourself Only by
mousapelli. I am SO SO SO nervous about this, as I've never done a remix before, so I really hope you like it. Nakamaru, text mass-sent to [group 1] at 8.02am.
So, okay, has anybody had any ideas about cheering Jin up? I thought about a surprise party. What do you guys think?
Junno, text sent to [Nakamaru] at 8.03am.
Sure! I'll bake a cake! I'll even ice it. How about: to Akanishi-kun, keep your jin up! :D
Koki, text sent to [Yo, Maru] at 9.35am.
Yeah, sounds good. I'll do the music. Junno's not baking anything, is he?
Ueda, text sent to [Nakamaru Yuichi] at 12.06pm.
I think he's had enough partying for one lifetime. What about a book token instead?
Texts written by Kame, but unsent to [Maru] at 8.30am, 10.04am, 11.34am, 1.10pm, 2.45pm.
Why do we have to-
I just think that we should-
Jin's always feeling-
You know, maybe we should leave him be-
It's always about Jin, isn't it.
Jin, text sent to [MaruMaruMaru!] at 3.35pm.
Were you supposed to send this to me?
Jin heads back to his apartment with a smirk on his face. He loves surprise parties, sure, but sometimes it's so much nicer to look forward to something. He wonders what the rest of the band said in response to the message: chances are Junno will be up for it, but Jin can't see Ueda or Kame being keen. Jin's not sure what Kame's problem is at the moment. There's an underlying resentment in everything that he says, as if Jin's presence is an inconvenience. Jin's used to being deliberately inconvenient. Being accidentally so is frustrating.
A lot of things are frustrating at the moment. Jin's not sure when they started being that way, or how to make them stop. Every day, he feels as though he's swallowing down more and more of himself, losing sight of his dreams and his motivation towards obtaining them. They're big thoughts, those, so unsurprisingly he skulks around in a bad mood a lot of the time. Horny, too, because sex is one of the weird things that helps with things he can't otherwise express.
When he gets home, Yamapi is in the living room, surrounded by strewn crisps and some kind of lurid orange dipping sauce. He tilts his head up when he hears the door open, so that he looks at Jin upside down.
“Crisp?” he says, and Jin just leans against the door frame with folded arms.
“Oh,” Yamapi says. “Not crisp. Okay. Bedroom it is, then.”
Nakamaru, text mass-sent to hastily revised [group 1] at 8.15pm.
Surprise party is out. Sorry, sorry. Any other ideas?
There are no replies to this one.
Yamapi knows that Jin is into sex. This is okay, mainly because it has obvious benefits for him. Yamapi also knows that he and Jin aren't tied down, and that's okay too, because they're both too busy to build something on top of what they already have. They take their easy transitions when they come, because little about their lives is that simple. That Jin has shagged his entire band in one way or another should surprise or offend Yamapi more than it actually does, but instead Yamapi quite enjoys the thought of it. Jin with certain people, anyway.
Everything that he knows can be condensed into this one single, simple moment. Jin straddles him, pushing into Yamapi's tight fist, his eyes screwed tight and his breath fanning hard. That's easy, uncomplicated and really fucking hot. When Yamapi digs a hand into his own jeans, Jin sees it, moves forwards hard and ends it with a single, deep groan. It's the second time in twenty minutes.
“Jin,” Yamapi says, laughing, because it's all he can do when Jin's such a fucking slut, and he has an unattended hard-on of his own. “Are you done, or is it my turn now?”
“What,” Jin says, lazily, his hand slipping on Yamapi's sticky one. “I don't understand,”
“Nothing, nothing,” Yamapi says, still snickering. “It's just that, generally, it's considered bad form not to take turns.”
“Oh,” Jin says, stretching. “Sorry. It just felt really good, and-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yamapi says, smacking the back of his thigh, then massaging in. “You have no stamina, idiot. This is not exactly a seductive experience.”
“What isn't seductive?” Jin says, indignant. His face falls a bit when Yamapi smirks, draws Jin's hand down his own jeans, but he regains pride quickly and easily, as he always has.
“I'll have you know,” he says, drawing himself up to his full height and sniffing disdainfully, “that I am a PARAGON of both seduction and endurance!”
Hah, Yamapi thinks. Yeah, right. Prove it. He leans over as Jin shrinks petulantly away, grabs him and kisses his collarbone until Jin is shaking beneath him.
“You and endurance go together like pickles and ramen,” he says. “Face it, Jin. You aren't exactly in it for the long haul.”
“You're just jealous,” Jin narrows his eyes and nips Yamapi's skin, directing him back to his collarbone. “Because after an orgasm you need a two-hour nap to even think about having another one.”
“It isn't like you're having a half-dozen of them at a clip,” Yamapi retorts, wishing that everybody would stop talking about orgasms so damn much.
“Five,” Jin says, full of gleaming ambition, and Yamapi knows immediately that he's not talking about what he's planning to do to Yamapi to make it up to him. Despite himself, he plays along. Jin rolls over towards him and says, all teasing, all fucking smug,
“KAT-TUN has a PV shoot tomorrow,” he says.
When Yamapi looks at him encouragingly, he continues, “We're scheduled all day, until we're done."
The feel of Jin's hand touching his chest, the vague nagging in the back of his brain telling him that Jin's come twice and he hasn't at all, it almost drowns out the taunt that follows.
“I bet I can get all five.”
“Of your bandmates?” Yamapi asks, startled. That's doing nothing for his hard-on. “Jin, don't you think that's a little…”
“I get all day,” Jin is poking him in the cheek as if he's counting out the minutes in a day. “And if I win, you take me shopping in Harajuku.”
Yamapi's not sure what's in it for him, but there's a light in Jin's face that he hasn't seen for far too long. Still. There needs to be rules. He's not about to lose a fight, even if his opponent is Jin's libido.
“You have to come too!” Yamapi grabs Jin's wrist and slowly licks Jin's finger. His hips are going loosely against Jin's thigh, hoping that Jin will catch the anvil-sized hint. “All five times. No cheating by just cornering them all into quick blowjobs. And if you lose, you buy me dinner anywhere I want. All this talk of your mouth and meat has given me a craving for yakiniku.”
Jin laughs, seals their deal with the secret handshake and a kiss, then rolls over. The sudden removal of his thighs, of the friction, makes Yamapi protest.
“Hey! What about me?”
There's a rough chuckle, and Jin's eyes as he turns his head. Yamapi glares at him, the throbbing now impossible to ignore.
“Well, I have to save up for tomorrow,” Jin says, and to his credit, doesn't react when Yamapi leans over and digs his nails into his back.
Yamapi waits for Jin to fall asleep, heads off grumpily to the bathroom and strips off his clothes. He turns the shower on and leans against the tile. As he waits for it to get warm, he takes his cock in hand and strokes it, the final relief of a touch better than the hot water running down his back. It isn't going to take long, he decides, so to hell with it-
He often finds that he comes hardest when he thinks about Ueda or Kame giving Jin the what-for he finds that he can't. Kame with a hand clamped over Jin's mouth and a growl of instruction in his throat, a “don't you dare, don't you dare come yet, get your hand around me, you slut-”
That. Yes, that.
Junno's apartment is flooded from the freakish week of wintery rain they've had, and so he spends most of his time camping out at Kame's or Maru's. On the day that they're to film Lips, he goes to the studio early, intending to catch some shut-eye. It's hard to sleep in other people's houses, Junno's found. Kame tends to play music even when he wants to sleep, and Maru's just noisy, and Junno doesn't have the heart to tell either of them to be quiet. He's the guest, after all.
There's a comfortable sofa in the dressing room, and Junno doesn't expect anybody to be around for another hour, so he dozes off quite happily.
He's awoken rudely once again when Jin strides through the door. Junno is a bit cross about the cancellation of Jin's surprise party: he misses making cakes for people, and he thought his Jin-pun was pretty good, too good to waste. So he's not all that cordial when Jin greets him. Of course, Jin's greeting is pretty rude, too, so it balances out.
“Hey,” Jin says, and then, accusingly, “nobody else is here.”
“You really RED the situation,” Junno replies in a sleepy voice muffled by his arm, “AKAnishi-kun.”
Junno is so used to the band despairing of his jokes that he almost uses them as a weapon now: success measured in groaning rather than in laughter. So it surprises him when Jin laughs because Jin is never amused, not even when Junno comes up with a first class sort of pun, the sort of pun that made the actors fall about laughing when they were filming Yukan Club. Jin's humour is a particularly stupid kind, so Junno opens his eyes suspiciously, and looks at him.
“You don't think my jokes are funny. What's up with you?”
Jin drops onto him, and what's up with Jin is fairly evident, digging into Junno's thigh. Junno barely has a moment to raise an eyebrow before Jin's flashing him a wide smile, a tossed platitude, you're just really cute this morning, and then kissing him, hard.
When his brain begins to function again, Junno realises that his shirt is half off and his trousers aren't far behind, Jin's hand rummaging around as if he's hunting out treasure. There's barely a moment to say anything at all, until Jin undoes his own zipper with his free hand and Junno suddenly sees what's about to happen.
“Jin!” he splutters, as Jin kneels on the sofa and over Junno, getting comfortable with an ungh of exertion. A part of him is worried about being caught, but a bigger part is aware of the period of sexual drought he's gone through recently and the faint memory of how fucking nice Jin's hands are, and-
Jin strokes the both of them with the one hand, calling Junno cute, cute, only from his mouth it sounds vaguely dirty. There are lines of restraint in Jin's face, as if he's actually for once holding back for the sake of getting somebody else off, and Junno can't help but admit that he's impressed. Impressed for a nanosecond, before Jin reaches over for Junno's hand, places it on his own cock. Jin and selfless don't exactly go together, Junno thinks, but still, it's nice, they find a rhythm together and there's kissing, kissing and one of Jin's undulating moans, and Junno no longer cares who's doing what as long as it sounds and feels like this. He looks up at Jin and feels like he's drowning in it.
“Ne,” Jin murmurs, “the others might come in any minute, you know? Mmm, it's exciting, right? Thinking about them finding us like this, your cock in my hand…”
The part of Junno that was worried about that very predicament now finds it indescribably hot. Damnit, damnit, he needs to find somebody to do this that isn't Jin, but then again, the thought of being caught, the thought of being watched-
"J-jin!" he stutters, eyes finally closing. It doesn't matter: he knows that Jin's smirking at the telltale shudder of him losing control and sure enough, a second later, there's a groan and Junno's hand is wet.
Maru tries to talk to Kame as they all go out onto the set, but Kame seems unresponsive to topics pertaining to Jin and his supposed unhappiness. He hasn't got an answer for why he never replied to Maru's text message – not one that doesn't make him sound immature and silly. Jin is a person who broadcasts his unhappiness so loudly and so widely that people feel compelled to help him. Kame gets that people don't usually notice he's unhappy, because Kame is a person who squashes unhappiness down to get the job down. Sometimes, though, the injustice kind of irritates him, and on the whole, Kame doesn't feel charitable towards Jin or his problems.
He tries to tell Maru as much, but it doesn't come out right, so they move onto other things. Maru notes it, though, and when Jin switches off during the director's briefing he nudges him hard. When Jin's eyes refocus, Maru notices that Kame is glaring at them both, and he almost wants to hack Jin's arm clean off for flashing a 'V' sign at him with that cheeky look on his face.
“Fucking hell,” he says, to Jin, as they all disperse for their individual shots. Koki brushes past them both, headed for a bathroom break. “You need to lay off him a bit. He's feeling tense.”
Jin isn't listening. Jin is heading off after Koki, and Maru stares after him, scratching the back of his neck in thought.
“Hey,” Koki says, conversationally, as he pushes open the door, looking over his shoulder at Jin. “Are you going to follow me the whole way into the—URK!”
Apparently, Jin is. Jin is a big fan of fooling around on set, which has often suited Koki (more times than he cares to count), but never in a bathroom cubicle. And never quite this aggressively. Koki prides himself on being the aggressor in most on-set-fooling-around-scenarios, but this time Jin seems to have the upper hand. Pressing back against the wall, Jin pulls Koki in close, and Koki doesn't feel like arguing with him.
The kiss is hard, rough, without pretensions: Jin's head goes back against the wall and his hat falls off. Koki works a knee between his legs and Jin greedily bears down on it, his hands in Koki's hair and flicking his cap off. It makes Jin laugh, until Koki kisses that out of him, too.
“Like the costume?” he asks, breaking the kiss and working on Jin's buttons, which as ever are complicated and irritating. Jin is humming and rolling his hips, and they could be the exact same fucking thing because Koki feels both of them in his groin, and it's all he can do to clumsily return the compliment. Jin tilts his head back, almost as if he's demanding something more than a choice snippet of appreciation, so Koki nibbles the length of his jaw until he groans, loud, too loud. It's then that Jin needs a break, turning around in the cubicle so that he can press his face against the cold door and breathe.
It gives Koki free range over Jin's earlobe, his arms snaking around Jin's waist and pulling him closer.
“I'd like to see you on your knees, looking up at me with those eyes,” he says, gravel-thick in Jin's ear, a smirk spreading over his face. Jin's eyeliner is really something, to be fair. And Jin does give the best blowjobs. Koki runs a hand down Jin's stomach, up under his shirt and then down into his trousers, working the fly until he can feel Jin's cock in his hand. Jin thrusts the moment he touches it, a small noise escaping out of the corners of his mouth. Jin's thinking about blowjobs too, it seems.
Ah, not blowjobs, Koki realises, as Jin pants, “want you”, and takes a foil wrapper out of his pocket. A part of Koki is surprised that he's come prepared, but then this is Jin, and the only thing Jin seems capable of deftly organising is his own sex life. He turns his face over his shoulder and looks at Koki, and when Koki grins Jin almost sneers, and that only makes Koki smirk more. There's a roll that appears in Jin's hips when Koki smirks, and that's an ego-boost and a half. Crossly, he passes back lube, as well, and tries to breathe against the metal of the door, tries to maintain some dignity.
Koki doesn't say a word, even when he pushes inside him – words don't tend to come into it with them, it's the way Jin likes it. It isn't gentle and it isn't rough, just casually intrusive, the way Koki is with all things, and Jin's breath is hard as he takes it, his hand working on his cock for a bit of balance until it feels good. He pushes back when it does, pushes back when he wants more, and that's a green light to Koki, a little signal that allows him free reign. Koki reaches out and holds his hips, directing the pace, yanking Jin back against him and feeling the cold press of his belt buckle between his thighs and Jin's. From there, it descends into a kind of madness: harsh and jerky and fucking fantastic, if Koki says so himself.
The words start at that moment, and at that moment it's filthy, filthy, filthy. Koki likes to tell Jin how tight he is, how hot it is, how he can see his hands all splayed out around the doorframe and how he's moaning just like a whore, stupid, tacky things that he never remembers afterwards but Jin seems to enjoy at the time. It never takes all that long, because Jin responds best to a dirty mouth and a hard pair of hips, and they're mostly there when the bathroom door opens.
“Jin, you're up, are you nearly ready?” Maru calls through, and it's so horribly apt that Jin laughs in a choked sort of way, and Koki smacks the back of his thigh in desperation because the sudden tightness is almost too much to bear.
“Don't stop,” Jin says, and Koki knows that he should do the exact opposite of what Jin wants, but he's never able to do that, and so he lets Jin take his hand and work it around his cock, and he lets Jin push backwards and forwards between two pleasures until he cries out around the back of his hand, hard enough to leave bite marks.
“Hey, Yuichi,” Koki calls back, voice full of mischief, and Jin tries to squirm away. He would have succeeded, but for the press of Koki's sticky hand against his stomach keeping him still. “C'mere and see this.”
It's too good not to share, Koki thinks, and Maru doesn't get nearly enough of Jin's affections.
Tentatively, Maru creeps into the stall, hastily jamming the door behind him when he sees the extent of what's been going on. Jin sets to work removing his vest, before Maru has a chance to argue with him, and there's only a slight bit of discomfort as Maru bangs his elbow, cursing the width of the stall.
“You weren't listening to me before,” he says. “About Kame.”
“Oh, fuck, don't talk about that,” Jin says, and Koki grunts an agreement, moving an arm around Jin to assist with Maru's belt-buckle. Jin buries his mouth in Maru's neck as Koki frees his cock, stroking him hard without much ado. He's slowed down completely inside Jin, and Jin seems grateful for the time-out, as much as Koki's gritting his teeth through it.
“Do you want him on his-” Koki begins, motioning to Jin, who turns his face up and gives Maru a big-eyed sort of pleading look.
“Ne,” he says. “Let me? Please?”
Maru knows that Jin wants to fuck him. He also knows that this is a very bad idea: Jin is already late for his shot, and it'll take him another ten minutes to get hard again, and that's probably too much time for Koki and too little time for him and really, he wishes that Kame has come into the bathroom instead, because Kame wouldn't have ended up in the stall, crushed against Jin, with Koki staring competitively into his eyes.
“I really think-” he begins, only Koki's doing that thing where he agrees with Jin, only it's in a grunt rather than in words and that really does Maru in. And Jin is sliding a hand down the back of his jeans, his fingers all wet with lube he's got from Koki's cock, presumably, dirty little slut, and there's really no way of going back on it now.
“Alright,” he says, grumpily, “careful with the boots,” as Jin unlaces them, giving him time to look into Koki's eyes and the mischief within.
“I hate you,” he says. “We're so screwed. We'll all be killed.”
Only nobody is listening, Jin is too busy working Maru's legs around his waist, Maru being careful with his feet only the press of Koki's stomach against Jin's ass is the best thing his feet have ever felt in their lives. As he's thinking about his feet, Koki moves forward, and so Jin moves forward, and the three of them make a noise that really is far too loud.
“Screwed,” Maru echoes, miserably. “Wait, wait-”
Only Jin can't, and the hand that moves between Maru's legs is apologetic and needy and his face pressed up against Maru's neck is moaning apologies, gasps all over his collarbone, thick like honey. And when Koki's hand joins Jin's, it stops feeling raw and it starts feeling good, and screwed starts being a good thing.
“Wish I could see this,” Koki stutters, finding his rhythm, barely able to speak because he's held back the longest. “it must be hotter than hell, fuck, Jin,” a warning, because Jin knows what that means only too well, and it's only because of him being still sensitive that he isn't right there with Koki. Their hands are fast and demanding and aggressive: Maru has to come, and quickly, and neither of them will take no for an answer. And Maru wonders, not for the first time, why he continually allows himself to be drawn into situations with these young things, these things he can't keep up with, let alone hope to dominate one day.
And it's that feeling, that hopeless abandon and the dual-sensation of two hard hands and Jin's awkward, inelegant thrusting, that pushes him over the edge. His nails are hard in Jin's shoulders and Koki's talking to Jin, talking him through it, all come on baby, come on, and that's more than enough, way more than enough, and Jin cries out so loud and so hard that it seems the bathroom walls vibrate. It's as much pain as it is pleasure and Koki is so fucking pleased, so fucking thrilled to have been last again that the noise he makes is almost a crow of triumph.
There's a long pause of heavy breathing, which Maru breaks when he complains that everybody is crushing him against the wall. Normally, Koki would ignore him because Maru often finds things to complain about even after sex, only Maru is lightly kicking Jin's back and Koki's stomach, and Koki dislikes kicking things anywhere near his groin, so.
“I'm telling Kame on you,” Maru says, as he lowers himself down and tries to breathe. Jin half-collapses against Koki, who groans as his legs regain feeling.
“Shut up,” he says. “Or your boots are going in the toilet.”
When they go back onto the set, Kame is furious, and the director isn't best pleased, either. Jin shrugs the both of them off, putting his necklace in his mouth and dropping it with a wide, post-coital smirk that the camera just adores.
“Sorry,” Maru says to Kame, later, and Kame just shrugs a bit, unsure of what to say.
“He's always like this,” he manages, eventually. “It's no big deal.”
“I kind of encouraged him,” Maru admits, sheepishly. “I'm sorry. I failed you. I am a bad messenger, you should shoot me.”
Kame just looks at him, quizzical and kind of amused, despite himself. “It's fine,” he says. “I'm practicing being less uptight. It's good for my blood pressure.”
“I didn't know you had high blood pressure,” Maru comments.
“Yeah, well,” Kame says, thoughtful, tired. “You just get on with it, don't you. Or, you know, you should. For everyone's sakes.”
“You should talk to him,” Maru says. “It'd help.”
“He doesn't listen,” Kame says. “He never has.”
“You need to choose your moment,” Maru replies. “He'll listen if you make him listen.”
Ueda's aware of what Jin's doing. Heck, most of Japan is probably aware of it by now, that's how indiscreet Jin is. People who've never even met Jin are probably reeling from the shock waves cast across the country from all the shagging Jin's doing when they're supposed to be filming. Ueda's always thought that Jin would be a better entertainer if he actually did some hard work from time to time. He never says as much because occasionally, the benefits seem to come his way.
Jin comes into the break room with him during lunch, padding around with a fake kind of nonchalance that's as irritating as it is cute.
“I was wondering when you'd get to me,” Ueda comments.
As if Ueda's committed some cardinal sin in beating Jin at his own game, Jin flops onto the sofa and shrilly questions Ueda's omnipotence.
“It isn't like you're very ninja or anything,” Ueda says, shrugging, taking his can of grape Fanta with a wrinkle of his nose. The vending machine is out of everything good, again. He turns to Jin, then, suddenly realising that the order Jin's working implies a hierarchy, and not being at the top of that hierarchy is hardly acceptable.
“I'm number four?” he says, as if challenging Jin to come up with an explanation.
“You were supposed to be three!” Jin says, eyes wide. “But Nakamaru snuck himself in with Koki. You were supposed to be in the middle, because you're the hardest.”
Giving good head isn't the only thing Jin does well with his mouth, Ueda thinks, and smiles accordingly.
“Kame's last?” he says, a little surprised, because once Kame's heard all about Jin's shagging exploits, chances are he won't want anything to do with it. Kame's stubborn like that.
“He's easiest,” Jin explains, and that makes Ueda laugh, little lamb-like Jin, so naïve and so cute. He takes his drink over to the sofa, sauntering towards Jin like a wolf.
“You stole my hips!” Jin protests, but it's not a serious accusation, given the way he's looking at them.
“I taught you those hips in the first place,” Ueda says, setting the can down on the arm of the sofa. He leans over, kisses Jin's mouth to silence it, because Jin can get annoyingly competitive in a slanging match. When they break apart, Jin's about to open his mouth again, so Ueda drops gracefully to his knees in-between Jin's thighs. That shuts Jin up for good.
“Far be it from me to block your ambitions, Jin-chan. You'll return the favor, right?”
Stunned, Jin nods, and content, Ueda makes steady work of Jin's jeans. Ueda doesn't like to be rushed, so he's pleased that Jin's picked lunchtime to corner him. Ueda likes to take his time, and he especially likes to do so with Jin, who appreciates it not a single bit.
Jin can't be anything but appreciative this lunch-time, because he's never had Ueda between his knees before. He's had Ueda's tentative touch on him as Ueda's writhed in his lap before. He's even had Ueda behind him in a bathroom cubicle before. But never this, never, ever this. His eyes are reeling with the shock of it, the trembling surprise of watching Ueda slowly take his cock in his mouth.
Ueda takes it to the back of his mouth, which seems to shock Jin to the core: there's something about Ueda that people mistake as fragility. Ueda sometimes likes it rough, the way the sun sometimes likes to shine even in the middle of winter. Ueda defies other people's expectations. And when giving blowjobs, he tends to take it in as far as he can get it.
Jin's eyes are full of wonder as Ueda sucks, and everything is desperately quiet, save for the hard rhythm of Jin's breathing and the click of Ueda's tongue. Ueda's hands curl gracefully around Jin's thighs and he moves his head with ease, as if it's somehow Jin's fault for never pressing the right buttons, for never finding the combination to unlock this side of him. Jin's regretting never doing so. He's regretting never having known about this before, never having the pleasure of seeing Ueda like this.
The noise he makes is surprising, after all the quiet. It's as if Ueda drags it out of him, rough-sounding from the hard shape of his mouth. When Ueda pulls back, he's suckling on his lower lip, and Jin realises that he's trembling from head to foot. Ueda climbs up onto the sofa and rubs Jin's back, which is a little bit more surprising that him giving head, truth be told. Jin moves into it instinctively, gratefully, pulling himself together.
“I am pretty amazing, huh,” Ueda says, and it's not really a question, it never is with Ueda.
“As if,” Jin says, when he regains his words and his sense of balance. He shoves Ueda down onto his back, grinning so that his teeth show. Ueda quirks an eyebrow, hair strewn out, his shirt sliding over one muscular shoulder. It makes him laugh, that Jin is so easy to manipulate, that his buttons are so shiny and red and pressable.
Jin's blowjobs remind Ueda of being a teenager, they're always hurried, as if they're about to be caught in the act. He'd never tell Jin, but that's what he likes about them. There's something deliciously underhand about it, something terribly kinky. As Jin bobs his head, Ueda feels his eyes fall closed, feels the soft fall of Jin's hair between his fingers and the little tingle of warning in his belly. He reaches out a hand and strokes Jin's face, tells him so, only Jin never realises that's what it means until it's a little too late and he has to swallow hard to avoid choking.
Ueda opens his eyes slowly, his whole body tingling, a small smile on his face. “Thanks for working hard,” he says, as Jin kisses him, long and unusual-tasting, and that's kinky, too. Ueda shows his gratitude by tucking them both back in and buying Jin a coffee.
“You'll need it,” he says, as they walk back onto set, nudging Jin towards Kame with the edge of his hip.
“What?” Jin says, suddenly panicked, because in his head he had more time to prepare for Kame than this. Ueda just looks at him and nods, stoically.
“Go,” he says. “Or I'll kick your ass.”
It makes Jin laugh, Ueda winking, fundamentally ridiculous as it is. He has to hide his face behind his coffee can, so that Kame doesn't get the wrong idea. Not that Kame really cares what the right idea actually is.
Koki watches Jin go with a shocked expression on his face.
“You've got balls,” he says, and Jin nibbles his lower lip.
“Let's hope Kame doesn't feed them to him,” Maru remarks conspiratorially, although of course, Jin can quite clearly hear him.
“I have to do it,” Jin says. “That was the deal.”
“Is Harajuku worth this?” Koki asks, looking at Kame, who is staring moodily into a monitor at his own performance.
“Is anything worth this?” Maru echoes.
“Thanks for the support,” Jin says, full of sarcasm and post-coital bravado, swaggering over towards Kame. “It'll be fine.”
“Go away, Jin,” Kame says, holding up his hand before Jin gets within a meter of him.
“Ouch,” Koki says, scurrying off. “Come on,” he says to Maru. “Let's rearrange something.”
“I'm just saying 'hello',” Jin says, hovering. He tries his hardest to leave the whine out of his tone, but there's a part of him that's so damn pissed off with Kame that it's not entirely successful.
“No, I mean it,” Kame says. “I don't want to play or chat or be Yamapi's cuddling stand-in or anything else, and we both know you'll end up crying and everybody will just tell me I'm an asshole. So shoo.”
“Aww,” Jin says, coming closer despite the vitriol. The thing about Kame is that once you've engaged him, it's impossible for him to get rid of you. Kame is only good at the silent treatment, not at arguing. If he's talking to you, it's a good sign.
“I mean it, Jin, I'm tired. Get lost.”
Still. A good sign isn't as good as a great sign. With a sigh of defeat that fools Kame completely, Jin shifts sadly away. At the last moment, he grabs Kame's hat clean off his head and breaks away at a run.
Kame would do anything, anything, to swap Jin with a member of Kanjani8. Any one of them, Kame's not fussed. He's convinced that everything would be easier without Jin. His theory wasn't exactly supported when Jin went away to America, but there are a number of factors that can explain that, Kame tells himself. He definitely didn't miss Jin and he definitely wasn't bored. The fact that he gave up on sex entirely during that time was purely coincidental, and nothing to do with missing the way Jin does things.
There's a part of him that wants to let Jin have his hat, that wants to let Jin does just do whatever, because he's Jin and it'd be like standing in front of a tornado and holding your arms out, but. But. The big problem is that Jin is so fucking annoying and if nobody stands in his way he'll take the roof off, so somebody has to play along, somebody has to fucking stop him.
“AKANISHI JIN,” he hollers, rising to his feet and mashing his fists together. “I AM GOING TO FEED YOU YOUR BALLS.”
It makes Jin laugh so hard that he skids along the corridor and crashes into the nearest wall. Kame just sees him recover himself and sprint off through the nearest door, hat going through last, tantalisingly close. Kame storms in behind him, not thinking about where they're going to end up. He looks around, surprised at the sudden darkness, then realises that they're in a sound booth. Jin is in the corner, eyes glowing mischievously in the dark. Kame slams the door.
“Give me back the hat right now,” he says, low and ominous. “And I promise to kill you quickly.”
Jin is ignoring him, the way Jin always ignores him. He's tilting his head and the hat he's wearing is sliding off, so he puts Kame's on instead. The black suits him better than the white, even in the dark. He cocks his chin at Kame, so confrontational it makes Kame want to hit him. The strange panel-lighting hits Jin's jaw with a kind of softness, and he looks beautiful.
“You could always come and get it,” he says, and it's their relationship in a sentence. Jin tempts Kame with things and then removes them, the moment Kame decides he wants them. It's Kame that has to chase, it's always Kame that has to figure out a way to crack Jin's many and various codes. It's never right there. Never simple.
“Damnit, Jin,” he says, making quick work of the booth and grabbing Jin's wrists. Instinctively, Jin backs up against the soundboard. His eyes are slightly wider, his chin raised. This isn't the reaction he expected. “Why do you always have to act like such a fucking child?”
And then, Jin turns tables, wraps Kame's arms around his back and uses him as leverage, lifting himself up onto the soundboard and curling a leg around his back. “Fuck me,” he says.
Of course.
Kame leaves too long a pause, that's the problem. It lessens the effect of “What the hell is wrong with you?” and by the time he's realised that, Jin's managed to free his wrists and is now gripping Kame's instead. His hips jerk a little against Kame's groin, and it's all he can do not to succumb to a sound.
“I bet Pi I could fuck all five of you in a single day of shooting,” Jin says, leaning forward and planting a hard kiss on Kame, so rude and so presumptuous and so everything Kame's missed so much.
Of course.
“We're in the middle of a shoot,” Kame snarls, drawing back and looking at Jin with a nauseating mixture of disgust and arousal. He's hardening against Jin's thigh and Jin knows it, so he ignores what Kame's saying, rocking against him with lidded eyes. His arms snake around Kame's neck and he looks at him, full of abandon, full of pure, undiluted hedonism.
“Please,” he says, slow and small, making promises he's not even aware he's making. Kame grits his teeth and that makes his moan come out all funny. He curses himself for not having enough strength to resist Jin: it'd be better for them both if he could, but he's never worked out how. There's something about Jin that makes you feel you're the only person in his world, if only for a little while. That feeling is more addictive than anything Kame's ever known. It only strikes him afterwards how hollow and unsatisfying the game they're playing actually is.
“God, oh god, fine,” he says, shoving Jin back from his ear, cross and horny and plain fed up, at himself, at Jin, at everybody. Jin leans back with a faint air of triumph as Kame rifles Jin's pockets for supplies.
“I can't believe you have these here,” he says, almost to himself, and Jin turns his head but doesn't respond. Angrily, he pulls Jin's trousers down over his legs and when he preps him, he doesn't look at Jin. Jin doesn't look at him, either, but he makes noises when he can't choke them back.
Kame doesn't check if he's ready or not and Jin doesn't seem bothered anyway, as Kame slides in, his eyes closing from the brute force of it, the familiarity that's at once happiness and despair. For somebody who was begging two minutes ago, Jin seems as if he's elsewhere: as if this is just another notch on today's bedpost. Kame supposes that it is, but he can't bear it. He's only half-hard. He's only half-there.
“Not very interested?” Kame forces his voice to be casual, but his irritation shows in the way he yanks Jin's hips down, forcing him down onto his elbows and his back. There's anger in Jin's eyes, then, but that's what he wants, some sort of reaction.
“Not sure I can even come again,” Jin grunts, by way of explanation, wrapping a hand around himself. The exertion is obvious and every word, every stroke, makes Kame angrier and angrier. Jin moves his hips against Kame, searching for a rhythm. “Slow down,” he spits. “I have to, or it doesn't count.”
That's really the moment it snaps.
“You are such a fucking whore,” Kame says, and it's said with enough feeling that Jin knows it's more than a game. He tilts his chin up and studies Kame, and there's a darkness in his eyes that reveals far too much about the way even that's turning him on. That look just makes Kame worse: he moves harder, deeper, faster, as if he's challenging Jin to do something about it.
“It's a good thing you're so pretty,” he goes on, as Jin's eyes fall closed and a rough sigh leaves his mouth. “Or you'd be completely fucking useless. But I guess that's how you got here in the first place, huh? It's so easy to look at you and imagine somebody fucking that tight ass of yours.”
“Just like that,” Jin breathes, stroking himself faster, his hips beginning to tilt up. He moves up, wraps an arm around Kame's neck, his head tilting back. Kame presses his mouth to his Adam's apple, at once pleased and horrified. His fingers dig into Jin's hips with the rhythm of his speech but he doesn't touch Jin's cock.
“God,” he goes on. “How much cock have you even had today? Had your whole band and it still isn't enough, is it? I didn't even have to warm you up; you're still greedy from the last person who had you. Who was it, Ueda? Did you have Ueda's pretty little cock up here last?”
“No,” Jin stutters and his hand is almost a blur now, close, his breath thrumming hard and hot in his throat. “Just sucked him off, Koki, oh fuck, it was Koki-”
“I bet it was,” Kame says, leaning down and biting up Jin's neck to his earlobe. His voice is cruel and his head is weird and dark but he's not about to stop, because this is the only way he ever really has Jin. He'll take what he can get. “He likes having you rough, doesn't he? Just like I do: making you take it as hard as you fucking can.”
“Kame,” Jin concedes, almost a sob, the pleasure painful, the need exhausting. He rushes it to make sure, pushing himself over the edge so hard that his voice goes hoarse and his muscles tighten until he's almost shaking. It hurts more than it feels good and Kame's voice is burning him from the outside in.
“Took you long enough,” Kame says, as if he's relieved, and a few seconds later there's a noise that Jin would have mistaken for his own if it weren't for the feel of Kame's telltale jerk. It doesn't seem any more pleasant than it was for Jin and they cling together afterwards, seeking a comfort that's no longer there between them.
“Sorry,” Jin says, eventually. “You were the last one, and I shouldn't have-”
“Stop it,” Kame says, uncomfortably.
“I can't stop shaking,” Jin goes on. “And I think I came on your hat, a bit.”
Kame awkwardly pats him, or tries to, only it fails and makes Jin's voice shudder out and for an awful moment Kame thinks that he's crying. “Fuck, I told you you'd cry, stop it.”
Jin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and shakes his head, because he isn't, he's laughing, only none of it is really that funny.
“And the director didn't notice anything,” Jin says, much later on, with Yamapi as a captive, if dubious, audience. “And we finished the PV, and the moral of the story is that I am a paragon of seduction and endurance.”
“Okay,” Yamapi admits. “But I think you think a paragon is something with a lot of corners.”
Jin laughs, tackling Yamapi to the bed, pleased and triumphant. “Seductive corners!” he cries. “Enduring corners! Check out my corners, Pi.”
“I think enough people have seen your corners for one day,” Yamapi says, nosing Jin's cheek until Jin leans in for a kiss and settles down, body warm against Yamapi's.
Jin doesn't seem worried about this, makes ludicrous statements about going celibate for six months, which Yamapi ignores because six months to Jin is more like two days. In the end, once Yamapi starts taking off Jin's clothes so that they can go to bed, six months is more like forty-five minutes.
The difference is, Yamapi supposes, pretty evident: he lies back on the bed and watches Jin give him head without asking for anything in return.
Jin, text mass-sent to [group 1] at 8.45pm:
Well done, guys. You really cheered me up. Thing is, I think Kame's feeling a bit under the weather right now. Any ideas?
Junno, text sent to [Kame] at 8.46pm:
Feeling pear-shaped? Why not kame to a special party in your honour? :D :D :D
Koki, text sent to [Yo, Maru] at 9.15pm:
Well, we could [text deleted for obscenity]
Maru, text sent to [Kkkkoki] at 9.20pm:
I don't think Kame likes it the way [text deleted for obscenity]
Ueda, text sent to [Akanishi Jin] at 10.20pm:
A BOOK TOKEN.
Kame, text sent to [Jin] at 8.50pm:
Thank you.