[Fic] Sexy
Title: Sexy
Author: Sam
Rating: NC-17 - for sex. Yum?
Genre: Angst and sex. Again.
Fandom: JE, 関ジャニ∞ , Ohkura Tadayoshi/Yasuda Shota
Summary: Ohkura really wasn't into cute things. He was into things that were long and things that were lean an things that were fake, fake enough to make him forget.
A/N: The second (and last) part of the adjectives. This one is Ohkura-centric and is paired with Cute. There is mentionings of het in here, it's not NC-17 or anything, but if it's a turn-off, don't read.
Comments are wonderful. Also, nitpicks and mistake finding and lit crit are super duper. ♥
It was, in truth, only the first one that month. Ohkura knew because he had never done this before, this whole one night stand and it was weird and strange and contrived and if he had done it before it probably would have been different. But there had been no others in his bed, the perfume was just the scent that remained there after a night at a club and a fitful night of sleep and those red marks, those things that the make -up artists tsked and chided about were just places where Ohkura had cut himself while shaving because he wasn't paying attention and hadn't slept well in months.
Since she was the first, even though he knew she wasn't the only one with big silicon boobs size C, D and only going up from there and he knew she wasn't the only one with acrylic nails that would grasp his hand and want part of him, want to go home to his apartment, to his flat and spend the night with him. She was too thin and too tall and he could tell her skin was that fake color that meant cancer and bad health.
All girls were like that - or at least the ones he went clubbing with, all fake in that perfect sort of way. All tall and thin and beautiful with perfectly lined teeth and a taste for expensive things, like champagne and perfume and jewelry. They weren't short, nor were their lips full and they didn't grin, they just smirked, and they didn't breathe and drink and live off of music, because music truly was the only thing they cared about. That and him. Because they cared about pedicures and blow jobs and cashmere. Not the way the chord sounded when they hit it.
It had, and it would have been okay. He hadn't meant for it to change. To take that girl home in a desperate attempt to forget something that had started it in the first place had been something he'd done, like he always did, when he hadn't been thinking hadn't been planning, and it had happened when all he could taste was Shota on his tongue and all he could see was Shota's eyes leering down at him, and all he could smell was some sweet, soft fragrance that was on his hands and was still on his hands and Ohkura, knew, he was positive that even if he fucked fifteen girls with heavy perfume that it would still be there, lingering on his skin, telling him about his mistake, the most wonderful, glorious mistake and it would chide him forever.
Months ago the affair had started. The flirting with danger, when Ryo invited him to join him and Jin and Yamapi and go and get drunk and dance and sweat and fuck. He hadn't wanted to go but he'd said yes and he'd danced and got drunk and sweated and he'd been oh so very drunk in that sort of way where he could still stand up straight but his decisions were impaired and his emotions were here and there and he'd finally fainted sometime about four laughing and whooping and hollering about this one girl's breasts and they way her firm little ass had brushed his cock one too many times.
And Ryo had had a good time, and so had Jin and Yamapi and Ohkura went again and this time, he invited Shota. From the very moment Shota walked in, Ohkura knew, it was a mistake. Shota had danced, and he was wearing tight clothing and it looked so good on him, so unlike the costumes Ohkura usually saw him in when he was dancing, and his head was thrown back and he was feeling the music, because that was something that was truly Shota, music. And Shota had looked so wonderful, and there was something about his stomach and the way his back was curved and Ohkura was attracted to him, and it was strange and a little bit frightening and before he'd known it there was beer.
There was beer and then there was Shota and then there was Shota driving them home, and then there was Shota's apartment and Shota smiling at him and Shota's dimples and then there was Shota's lips and then there was Ohkura kissing them. And there was Ohkura touching Shota's cock through his clothing and whispering how he didn't like cute things and how he hadn't ever, how they were a turn off, dimples and full lips and people who were short, and he told Shota, as he unzipped his jeans and pushed a hand past his underwear and onto his cock, that was so hot and so scorching and Shota kissed him back and they bit and they suck, he told Shota that he liked women and he liked boobs and he liked long legs and pert asses and too much make-up. And as he told Shota this Shota just looked at him, half in ecstasy, Ohkura was still jerking him off, and Shota was still enjoying it, and half in disbelief and disappointment and disapproval and all those things that Ohkura had never wanted to see in Shota's eyes before.
And before Ohkura had known it Shota had come, all over his hand, and he'd screamed out Ohkura's name and Ohkura had called a cab and left.
The next day, he hadn't apologized, he hadn't even mentioned it. Things just went on almost as they always had, and Ohkura didn't need to apologize, because it was true. He didn't like cute things. He didn't like giggles and pink and people who were sweet and kind and nice, he liked people who were evil and sexy and smoldering and it wasn't just people, he liked women and he liked feeling curves and long legs wrapped around him.
And over time, Ohkura was sort of hardened, and he went out more and he flirted more and he went home alone and he started at the ceiling and wrapped his hand around his cock and thought not of the girl who had whispered that her pussy was wet for him, but he thought about ruby, full, red lips and short hands on his body.
Ohkura grew detached and just to prove it, prove he wasn't like that anymore, and the only time he was, was in the dark of the night where dreams became realities, he winked and he had smiled and he had invited Shota along, again.
And then Shota had noticed and he had grabbed him and he had slammed him into that door and Ohkura had reacted and they had kissed and they had fit together so perfect and it had been hard and rough and Ohkura had stopped feeling so detached and then Shota had stopped him. And the world came crashing down again, and this was a world and it wasn't perfect, it wasn't like Shota, who was perfect, it was more like Ohkura who was completely lacking.
And he had ran and he had ran right into the arms of someone who was contrived and he hadn't cared because his feelings for her were contrived as well and he had fucked her in a mindless sort of way that he had hoped would get his mind off of things, but it had just made everything worse and he hadn't even come, before he was pulling out of her and grabbing his coat and leaving.
And here he stood, standing at Shota's door, and knowing that he wasn't going to go in, because if he went in Shota would be able to smell her and Shota would just hate him more and he can still see Shota's face, how he had been so in disbelief and so disappointed and how he had disapproved and Ohkura had forced it and he'd tainted Shota. Shota who was so naïve and so fresh and who Ohkura wanted, but Ohkura wanted him on more levels than just to fuck him in the bathroom of a club but he wanted that too, and he wanted to touch Shota and this was, or had been, his best friend and it was a lie wasn't it? Falling in love with your best friend? It wasn't true. People didn't do that.
And he wonders what Shota would think if he could see Ohkura now, sulking in the dark of the night, standing close to the door of his apartment, not knocking because he knows a knock will either lead to doom and destruction or a life of happiness and bliss and the risk is so great but the reward it could be Shota, Shota who responded to his kiss and whose legs had wrapped about Ohkura's hips and Shota who gasped and moaned and bit and sucked and was so wonderful and Shota - Ohkura brought his hand up to knock but before he can he's distracted by the sound of someone laughing, someone giggling and he knows that giggle, it's the same giggle that makes his stomach flip and makes him smile and makes him live.
But that's not the sound that gets to him. What gnaws at him is the sound of someone else, someone else laughing and calling Shota - his Shota cute and Shota is giggling back at him and they are kissing and Shota is making some sort of sound that isn't right and it's stupid and before Ohkura knows it he's slammed the other man - the one who was touching Shota, up against the wall and punching him once in the jaw and twice in the stomach.
And the other man is running away and Shota is staring Ohkura down and Ohkura is staring at Shota, Shota who is so beautiful with his lips swollen and his hair mussed and he wished that he didn't know that someone else - someone who isn't Ohkura did it, because Ohkura is the one who is supposed to do that and it's been so long since he's last done that - or at least that's how it feels because in truth it's only been a couple of hours but it seems like a lifetime.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Shota says, and the way he says it, those words that he uses, that are so bold and so vulgar leap out at Ohkura and Ohkura wishes that Shota was sweet and cute and adorable like he usually was. Because then Ohkura wouldn't feel so bad, and then he wouldn't feel like it was okay to sort of slam into Shota and hear Shota's head crack against the wall and know that those were Shota's lips and know that that other taste, the nasty one that tasted like something burnt was someone else and he's so jealous that he's got to push his hand up Shota's shirt and he's got to take the other and thread it through Shota's hair and he's got to ask - got to tell Shota that Shota is his and isn't he being stupid? Didn't he know that Ohkura had and always would own Shota. And Shota is gasping and Ohkura wants to touch Shota, like he had that one time, he wants to jerk him off or suck him or something and so he does - ripping the jeans down to his knees and taking Shota's cock and putting it into his mouth and swiping his tongue over the head, and Shota groans and takes his hand and grabs Ohkura's head and pushes him down again, to which Ohkura laughs and the sound, the vibration makes Shota squirm and fidget and he's saying something that sounds like Ohkura's but is more like a prayer that Ohkura won't stop at least until Shota comes. And then Ohkura takes his hand and puts it on Shota's ass, that is firm and wonderfully perfect in a real sort of way and he squeezes and rubs and Shota is still jumpy and then he's shooting come - hot and wet down Ohkura's throat.
Ohkura smirks and runs his finger over his lips and watches Shota. Shota whose eyes are as round as plates and who is still trying to catch his breath and then Shota starts to cry. And he starts to sob and make these little sounds that make Ohkura feel like the worst man in the entire world and he can't help but to put his arms around Shota and mumbles things that he's never even thought about how Shota is the most wonderful person and how Shota crying is the most horrible thing in the entire world, because to Ohkura it really is and then Shota stops and he pushes Ohkura away and he's punching Ohkura and they don't hurt psychically but mentally each and everyone comes crashing down on Ohkura and Shota keeps at it until he can't move anymore, because he's exhausted and Ohkura finds Shota's keys and he unlocks the door and sits Shota down on Shota's bed and he kisses his forehead and realizes that he's got to stop this making Shota hurt and got to start making Shota happy.
And if it takes forever, so be it.
So is this one better or worse than the first one? :D
Author: Sam
Rating: NC-17 - for sex. Yum?
Genre: Angst and sex. Again.
Fandom: JE, 関ジャニ∞ , Ohkura Tadayoshi/Yasuda Shota
Summary: Ohkura really wasn't into cute things. He was into things that were long and things that were lean an things that were fake, fake enough to make him forget.
A/N: The second (and last) part of the adjectives. This one is Ohkura-centric and is paired with Cute. There is mentionings of het in here, it's not NC-17 or anything, but if it's a turn-off, don't read.
Comments are wonderful. Also, nitpicks and mistake finding and lit crit are super duper. ♥
It was, in truth, only the first one that month. Ohkura knew because he had never done this before, this whole one night stand and it was weird and strange and contrived and if he had done it before it probably would have been different. But there had been no others in his bed, the perfume was just the scent that remained there after a night at a club and a fitful night of sleep and those red marks, those things that the make -up artists tsked and chided about were just places where Ohkura had cut himself while shaving because he wasn't paying attention and hadn't slept well in months.
Since she was the first, even though he knew she wasn't the only one with big silicon boobs size C, D and only going up from there and he knew she wasn't the only one with acrylic nails that would grasp his hand and want part of him, want to go home to his apartment, to his flat and spend the night with him. She was too thin and too tall and he could tell her skin was that fake color that meant cancer and bad health.
All girls were like that - or at least the ones he went clubbing with, all fake in that perfect sort of way. All tall and thin and beautiful with perfectly lined teeth and a taste for expensive things, like champagne and perfume and jewelry. They weren't short, nor were their lips full and they didn't grin, they just smirked, and they didn't breathe and drink and live off of music, because music truly was the only thing they cared about. That and him. Because they cared about pedicures and blow jobs and cashmere. Not the way the chord sounded when they hit it.
It had, and it would have been okay. He hadn't meant for it to change. To take that girl home in a desperate attempt to forget something that had started it in the first place had been something he'd done, like he always did, when he hadn't been thinking hadn't been planning, and it had happened when all he could taste was Shota on his tongue and all he could see was Shota's eyes leering down at him, and all he could smell was some sweet, soft fragrance that was on his hands and was still on his hands and Ohkura, knew, he was positive that even if he fucked fifteen girls with heavy perfume that it would still be there, lingering on his skin, telling him about his mistake, the most wonderful, glorious mistake and it would chide him forever.
Months ago the affair had started. The flirting with danger, when Ryo invited him to join him and Jin and Yamapi and go and get drunk and dance and sweat and fuck. He hadn't wanted to go but he'd said yes and he'd danced and got drunk and sweated and he'd been oh so very drunk in that sort of way where he could still stand up straight but his decisions were impaired and his emotions were here and there and he'd finally fainted sometime about four laughing and whooping and hollering about this one girl's breasts and they way her firm little ass had brushed his cock one too many times.
And Ryo had had a good time, and so had Jin and Yamapi and Ohkura went again and this time, he invited Shota. From the very moment Shota walked in, Ohkura knew, it was a mistake. Shota had danced, and he was wearing tight clothing and it looked so good on him, so unlike the costumes Ohkura usually saw him in when he was dancing, and his head was thrown back and he was feeling the music, because that was something that was truly Shota, music. And Shota had looked so wonderful, and there was something about his stomach and the way his back was curved and Ohkura was attracted to him, and it was strange and a little bit frightening and before he'd known it there was beer.
There was beer and then there was Shota and then there was Shota driving them home, and then there was Shota's apartment and Shota smiling at him and Shota's dimples and then there was Shota's lips and then there was Ohkura kissing them. And there was Ohkura touching Shota's cock through his clothing and whispering how he didn't like cute things and how he hadn't ever, how they were a turn off, dimples and full lips and people who were short, and he told Shota, as he unzipped his jeans and pushed a hand past his underwear and onto his cock, that was so hot and so scorching and Shota kissed him back and they bit and they suck, he told Shota that he liked women and he liked boobs and he liked long legs and pert asses and too much make-up. And as he told Shota this Shota just looked at him, half in ecstasy, Ohkura was still jerking him off, and Shota was still enjoying it, and half in disbelief and disappointment and disapproval and all those things that Ohkura had never wanted to see in Shota's eyes before.
And before Ohkura had known it Shota had come, all over his hand, and he'd screamed out Ohkura's name and Ohkura had called a cab and left.
The next day, he hadn't apologized, he hadn't even mentioned it. Things just went on almost as they always had, and Ohkura didn't need to apologize, because it was true. He didn't like cute things. He didn't like giggles and pink and people who were sweet and kind and nice, he liked people who were evil and sexy and smoldering and it wasn't just people, he liked women and he liked feeling curves and long legs wrapped around him.
And over time, Ohkura was sort of hardened, and he went out more and he flirted more and he went home alone and he started at the ceiling and wrapped his hand around his cock and thought not of the girl who had whispered that her pussy was wet for him, but he thought about ruby, full, red lips and short hands on his body.
Ohkura grew detached and just to prove it, prove he wasn't like that anymore, and the only time he was, was in the dark of the night where dreams became realities, he winked and he had smiled and he had invited Shota along, again.
And then Shota had noticed and he had grabbed him and he had slammed him into that door and Ohkura had reacted and they had kissed and they had fit together so perfect and it had been hard and rough and Ohkura had stopped feeling so detached and then Shota had stopped him. And the world came crashing down again, and this was a world and it wasn't perfect, it wasn't like Shota, who was perfect, it was more like Ohkura who was completely lacking.
And he had ran and he had ran right into the arms of someone who was contrived and he hadn't cared because his feelings for her were contrived as well and he had fucked her in a mindless sort of way that he had hoped would get his mind off of things, but it had just made everything worse and he hadn't even come, before he was pulling out of her and grabbing his coat and leaving.
And here he stood, standing at Shota's door, and knowing that he wasn't going to go in, because if he went in Shota would be able to smell her and Shota would just hate him more and he can still see Shota's face, how he had been so in disbelief and so disappointed and how he had disapproved and Ohkura had forced it and he'd tainted Shota. Shota who was so naïve and so fresh and who Ohkura wanted, but Ohkura wanted him on more levels than just to fuck him in the bathroom of a club but he wanted that too, and he wanted to touch Shota and this was, or had been, his best friend and it was a lie wasn't it? Falling in love with your best friend? It wasn't true. People didn't do that.
And he wonders what Shota would think if he could see Ohkura now, sulking in the dark of the night, standing close to the door of his apartment, not knocking because he knows a knock will either lead to doom and destruction or a life of happiness and bliss and the risk is so great but the reward it could be Shota, Shota who responded to his kiss and whose legs had wrapped about Ohkura's hips and Shota who gasped and moaned and bit and sucked and was so wonderful and Shota - Ohkura brought his hand up to knock but before he can he's distracted by the sound of someone laughing, someone giggling and he knows that giggle, it's the same giggle that makes his stomach flip and makes him smile and makes him live.
But that's not the sound that gets to him. What gnaws at him is the sound of someone else, someone else laughing and calling Shota - his Shota cute and Shota is giggling back at him and they are kissing and Shota is making some sort of sound that isn't right and it's stupid and before Ohkura knows it he's slammed the other man - the one who was touching Shota, up against the wall and punching him once in the jaw and twice in the stomach.
And the other man is running away and Shota is staring Ohkura down and Ohkura is staring at Shota, Shota who is so beautiful with his lips swollen and his hair mussed and he wished that he didn't know that someone else - someone who isn't Ohkura did it, because Ohkura is the one who is supposed to do that and it's been so long since he's last done that - or at least that's how it feels because in truth it's only been a couple of hours but it seems like a lifetime.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Shota says, and the way he says it, those words that he uses, that are so bold and so vulgar leap out at Ohkura and Ohkura wishes that Shota was sweet and cute and adorable like he usually was. Because then Ohkura wouldn't feel so bad, and then he wouldn't feel like it was okay to sort of slam into Shota and hear Shota's head crack against the wall and know that those were Shota's lips and know that that other taste, the nasty one that tasted like something burnt was someone else and he's so jealous that he's got to push his hand up Shota's shirt and he's got to take the other and thread it through Shota's hair and he's got to ask - got to tell Shota that Shota is his and isn't he being stupid? Didn't he know that Ohkura had and always would own Shota. And Shota is gasping and Ohkura wants to touch Shota, like he had that one time, he wants to jerk him off or suck him or something and so he does - ripping the jeans down to his knees and taking Shota's cock and putting it into his mouth and swiping his tongue over the head, and Shota groans and takes his hand and grabs Ohkura's head and pushes him down again, to which Ohkura laughs and the sound, the vibration makes Shota squirm and fidget and he's saying something that sounds like Ohkura's but is more like a prayer that Ohkura won't stop at least until Shota comes. And then Ohkura takes his hand and puts it on Shota's ass, that is firm and wonderfully perfect in a real sort of way and he squeezes and rubs and Shota is still jumpy and then he's shooting come - hot and wet down Ohkura's throat.
Ohkura smirks and runs his finger over his lips and watches Shota. Shota whose eyes are as round as plates and who is still trying to catch his breath and then Shota starts to cry. And he starts to sob and make these little sounds that make Ohkura feel like the worst man in the entire world and he can't help but to put his arms around Shota and mumbles things that he's never even thought about how Shota is the most wonderful person and how Shota crying is the most horrible thing in the entire world, because to Ohkura it really is and then Shota stops and he pushes Ohkura away and he's punching Ohkura and they don't hurt psychically but mentally each and everyone comes crashing down on Ohkura and Shota keeps at it until he can't move anymore, because he's exhausted and Ohkura finds Shota's keys and he unlocks the door and sits Shota down on Shota's bed and he kisses his forehead and realizes that he's got to stop this making Shota hurt and got to start making Shota happy.
And if it takes forever, so be it.
So is this one better or worse than the first one? :D