[tegoshi/kame] off center
Title: Off center
Fandom: Johnny's & Associates (KAT-TUN, NEWS)
Characters: Kamenashi Kazuya, Tegoshi Yuya
Pairing: Tegoshi/Kame
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1100
Warnings: there's an edge of painplay and some rimming, pwp
Summary: Tegoshi gets his revenge, and Kame definitely enjoys it.
Notes: sequel to this. For the fantabulous katmillia
He's halfway through getting dressed to go out when the familiar screeching sound of someone opening his bedroom door makes him turn around in the middle of trying to fasten the buckles of his favorite leather cuff one-handed. His shoulders tighten up when he sees Tegoshi, eyes dark under messy hair and jeans that are too tight to be comfortable, and his fingertips stumble to a stop on the metal of the buckle. "Hi," he says, quietly, and then Tegoshi is on him, mouth pressing coal-hot open-mouthed kisses to Kame's jaw and hands slipping tight around his biceps. When Tegoshi steps forward, pushing Kame back with his chest and his hip, Kame goes, until his lower back hits the high top of his dresser, and he tangles his fingers in the back of Tegoshi's loose green t-shirt.
Tegoshi's palms slip down his arms, until they hit his wrists, and he curls his fingers around Kame's bare left wrist, thumb running momentarily gentle over his pulse, and then tightens his grip. He bends Kame's arm back, and when Kame begins to tilt back with the push Tegoshi crowds him, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to Kame's now-exposed collarbones. Kame bucks when Tegoshi's teeth close over his skin, and Tegoshi rolls his hips in response, slow and sultry. His fingers hit the wall just behind the dresser, and he spreads his fingers to press the back of Kame's wrist to it.
"Fuck," Kame manages, and shakes off Tegoshi's hand on the half-fastened buckle of the leather cuff on his right hand to wind his fingers through Tegoshi's hair, holding him close as he rubs his cock against Tegoshi's hip through their jeans.
"You always were quick on the uptake, weren't you, Kamenashi-kun," Tegoshi breathes, grin spreading against Kame's neck before he flicks his tongue against the skin there. Kame pulls on the hair between his fingers then, and Tegoshi sucks at the skin at his lips, pulling groans from them both.
"Less talking," Kame snaps, and Tegoshi leans back, his eyes dark and hooded by his bangs. Suddenly, the weight of Tegoshi's push and the angle of Kame's left wrist blare through his shoulder, and he wrenches his wrist forward to try and shake Tegoshi's grip off.
"Yes, exactly, less talking--from you," Tegoshi says, and replaces his glare with his mouth on Kame's, left hand traveling under the hem of Kame's wifebeater and his fingertips pressing up the faint line of Kame's abs to his sternum. Tegoshi spreads his fingers wide, pressing his palm to the middle of Kame's chest, and pushes him as far as he can go before he rolls his hips, slowly, against Kame's. Kame's mouth slackens, but his eyes are sharp until Tegoshi's hand slips out of his shirt and onto the front of his jeans, jockeying them open with his free hand. Kame's free hand comes in handy helping Tegoshi push Kame's jeans over his hips until his cock pops free, but Tegoshi waves Kame's attempt for his own off in favor of licking a long stripe up his own palm and curling his fingers around Kame's cock. Kame wants to move his hips, to get more friction than the slow rhythm Tegoshi sets, but the grip on his wrist and a sudden knee between his own keeps him off balance.
"Come on," Kame says, voice halfway to a whine, and Tegoshi's hand disappears immediately before clapping, firmly, over his mouth.
"Ka-zu-ya," Tegoshi sing-songs, his voice soft in Kame's ear, "shut up." Then he licks the shell of Kame's ear and wraps his hand roughly around Kame's cock. Kame groans, low, and shuts his eyes, head tilted back against the wall as Tegoshi's pace quickens. He gasps for breath, and then Tegoshi bites at his lower lip, a touch too hard to be really proper; Kame knows exactly the moment he comes not only because of the rolling wave running along his nerve endings but also because of the way Tegoshi laughs in his ear. Tegoshi's grip on his wrist has tightened uncomfortably, white-knuckled around the bones there, but Kame likes the dim ache at his elbow when Tegoshi lets him go. He sags back against the dresser, elbows pressed to the top between neatly ordered scarves and bottles of cologne, and then he sees Tegoshi's hands at his belt buckle.
"What," he says, and then Tegoshi forces his jeans down over his hips (with some effort, Kame is amused to note).
"I said shut up," Tegoshi says, but there's a curve to his mouth that makes Kame laugh, and then Kame slides back on the dresser (thank god he bought the short one) to slide his jeans down until he can work them off. He sets his legs wide, revealing every inch of himself (including his now-soft cock, but he's already feeling a stirring in his belly).
"Well," he says, "I can shut up if you can get to work."
Tegoshi swats at the inside of his thigh, rolling his eyes, and then flicks his tongue over Kame's opening in a way that echoes his tongue on Kame's neck. Kame groans in much the same way, digging his fingers into the scarves under his hands; Tegoshi leans in closer, his hands on the inside of Kame's knees, forcing him wider as his tongue pushes past the rim of muscle and to the heat inside. "Fuck," Kame whimpers, lifting his right hand to bite down on the leather cuff as Tegoshi works him open with his mouth and then, finally, spit-slick fingers.
Tegoshi's cock is an unrelenting, hot relief, and Kame is hard again against Tegoshi's stomach as Tegoshi sinks slowly into him. Tegoshi leans away from Kame once he manages to set a rhythm, and Kame can't fathom why until he sees Tegoshi's eyes on his own cock. "You are such a narcissist," he says, and curls his hand around his cock. His shirt is still wet with come, but Kame finds it hard to care with Tegoshi's dick inside of him, at least for the moment.
"I am not," Tegoshi answers, "next time I'm definitely taping your mouth shut."
Kame snorts, and then squawks as Tegoshi leans forward, pressing his palm to the top of the dresser and kissing Kame as his speed suddenly picks up.
Tegoshi bats his hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own and moving tight and fast, just the way Kame likes it. Kame can feel the way Tegoshi is building into an orgasm by the way his hand suddenly stutters and then the way his body tightens over Kame's. Kame rolls his eyes when Tegoshi sags against him, and fishes underneath Tegoshi's torso to bring himself over with a low, muttered curse.
He hears the dresser creak after a moment, and shoves at Tegoshi until he stumbles back.
"If you have broken my dresser you're assembling the new one," he informs Tegoshi, but makes no move to get up, his legs weak even with his weight on the furniture.
Fandom: Johnny's & Associates (KAT-TUN, NEWS)
Characters: Kamenashi Kazuya, Tegoshi Yuya
Pairing: Tegoshi/Kame
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1100
Warnings: there's an edge of painplay and some rimming, pwp
Summary: Tegoshi gets his revenge, and Kame definitely enjoys it.
Notes: sequel to this. For the fantabulous katmillia
He's halfway through getting dressed to go out when the familiar screeching sound of someone opening his bedroom door makes him turn around in the middle of trying to fasten the buckles of his favorite leather cuff one-handed. His shoulders tighten up when he sees Tegoshi, eyes dark under messy hair and jeans that are too tight to be comfortable, and his fingertips stumble to a stop on the metal of the buckle. "Hi," he says, quietly, and then Tegoshi is on him, mouth pressing coal-hot open-mouthed kisses to Kame's jaw and hands slipping tight around his biceps. When Tegoshi steps forward, pushing Kame back with his chest and his hip, Kame goes, until his lower back hits the high top of his dresser, and he tangles his fingers in the back of Tegoshi's loose green t-shirt.
Tegoshi's palms slip down his arms, until they hit his wrists, and he curls his fingers around Kame's bare left wrist, thumb running momentarily gentle over his pulse, and then tightens his grip. He bends Kame's arm back, and when Kame begins to tilt back with the push Tegoshi crowds him, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to Kame's now-exposed collarbones. Kame bucks when Tegoshi's teeth close over his skin, and Tegoshi rolls his hips in response, slow and sultry. His fingers hit the wall just behind the dresser, and he spreads his fingers to press the back of Kame's wrist to it.
"Fuck," Kame manages, and shakes off Tegoshi's hand on the half-fastened buckle of the leather cuff on his right hand to wind his fingers through Tegoshi's hair, holding him close as he rubs his cock against Tegoshi's hip through their jeans.
"You always were quick on the uptake, weren't you, Kamenashi-kun," Tegoshi breathes, grin spreading against Kame's neck before he flicks his tongue against the skin there. Kame pulls on the hair between his fingers then, and Tegoshi sucks at the skin at his lips, pulling groans from them both.
"Less talking," Kame snaps, and Tegoshi leans back, his eyes dark and hooded by his bangs. Suddenly, the weight of Tegoshi's push and the angle of Kame's left wrist blare through his shoulder, and he wrenches his wrist forward to try and shake Tegoshi's grip off.
"Yes, exactly, less talking--from you," Tegoshi says, and replaces his glare with his mouth on Kame's, left hand traveling under the hem of Kame's wifebeater and his fingertips pressing up the faint line of Kame's abs to his sternum. Tegoshi spreads his fingers wide, pressing his palm to the middle of Kame's chest, and pushes him as far as he can go before he rolls his hips, slowly, against Kame's. Kame's mouth slackens, but his eyes are sharp until Tegoshi's hand slips out of his shirt and onto the front of his jeans, jockeying them open with his free hand. Kame's free hand comes in handy helping Tegoshi push Kame's jeans over his hips until his cock pops free, but Tegoshi waves Kame's attempt for his own off in favor of licking a long stripe up his own palm and curling his fingers around Kame's cock. Kame wants to move his hips, to get more friction than the slow rhythm Tegoshi sets, but the grip on his wrist and a sudden knee between his own keeps him off balance.
"Come on," Kame says, voice halfway to a whine, and Tegoshi's hand disappears immediately before clapping, firmly, over his mouth.
"Ka-zu-ya," Tegoshi sing-songs, his voice soft in Kame's ear, "shut up." Then he licks the shell of Kame's ear and wraps his hand roughly around Kame's cock. Kame groans, low, and shuts his eyes, head tilted back against the wall as Tegoshi's pace quickens. He gasps for breath, and then Tegoshi bites at his lower lip, a touch too hard to be really proper; Kame knows exactly the moment he comes not only because of the rolling wave running along his nerve endings but also because of the way Tegoshi laughs in his ear. Tegoshi's grip on his wrist has tightened uncomfortably, white-knuckled around the bones there, but Kame likes the dim ache at his elbow when Tegoshi lets him go. He sags back against the dresser, elbows pressed to the top between neatly ordered scarves and bottles of cologne, and then he sees Tegoshi's hands at his belt buckle.
"What," he says, and then Tegoshi forces his jeans down over his hips (with some effort, Kame is amused to note).
"I said shut up," Tegoshi says, but there's a curve to his mouth that makes Kame laugh, and then Kame slides back on the dresser (thank god he bought the short one) to slide his jeans down until he can work them off. He sets his legs wide, revealing every inch of himself (including his now-soft cock, but he's already feeling a stirring in his belly).
"Well," he says, "I can shut up if you can get to work."
Tegoshi swats at the inside of his thigh, rolling his eyes, and then flicks his tongue over Kame's opening in a way that echoes his tongue on Kame's neck. Kame groans in much the same way, digging his fingers into the scarves under his hands; Tegoshi leans in closer, his hands on the inside of Kame's knees, forcing him wider as his tongue pushes past the rim of muscle and to the heat inside. "Fuck," Kame whimpers, lifting his right hand to bite down on the leather cuff as Tegoshi works him open with his mouth and then, finally, spit-slick fingers.
Tegoshi's cock is an unrelenting, hot relief, and Kame is hard again against Tegoshi's stomach as Tegoshi sinks slowly into him. Tegoshi leans away from Kame once he manages to set a rhythm, and Kame can't fathom why until he sees Tegoshi's eyes on his own cock. "You are such a narcissist," he says, and curls his hand around his cock. His shirt is still wet with come, but Kame finds it hard to care with Tegoshi's dick inside of him, at least for the moment.
"I am not," Tegoshi answers, "next time I'm definitely taping your mouth shut."
Kame snorts, and then squawks as Tegoshi leans forward, pressing his palm to the top of the dresser and kissing Kame as his speed suddenly picks up.
Tegoshi bats his hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own and moving tight and fast, just the way Kame likes it. Kame can feel the way Tegoshi is building into an orgasm by the way his hand suddenly stutters and then the way his body tightens over Kame's. Kame rolls his eyes when Tegoshi sags against him, and fishes underneath Tegoshi's torso to bring himself over with a low, muttered curse.
He hears the dresser creak after a moment, and shoves at Tegoshi until he stumbles back.
"If you have broken my dresser you're assembling the new one," he informs Tegoshi, but makes no move to get up, his legs weak even with his weight on the furniture.