Seven Minutes - JE - NC-17
Title: Seven Minutes
Author: anamuan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 895
Pairing: Koyamapi
Summary: Koyama has seven minutes to change. Yamapi has very little self-restraint.
A/N: It’s a bit choppy. Written to nihongofrancais in chat last night in a little under an hour. Proofread. Hit me.
Koyama had seven minutes to change. That should have been plenty of time, but the producers weren't counting on Yamapi.
Yamapi pressed Koyama up against the door as soon as he was far enough into the room to get it closed behind him. He smothered Koyama's surprised squeak with his tongue, then, once he was sure Koyama wouldn't protest, he started nipping a line down the sweaty skin of his throat. By the time Yamapi got down to his collarbones, Yamapi was already reaching for Koyama's pants.
Koyama had seven minutes to change. Yamapi wasn't wasting any of it. As he licked a line back up from the hollow of Koyama's throat to suck on his Adam's apple, he was already pushing Koyama's pants down off his hips.
Koyama was half-hard from the buzz of performing, hot and sweating from stage-lights. That's hard enough for Yamapi to resist, but what pushed him over this time was the red jacket. Straps and Leather. Yamapi wanted to see it against his skin.
Yamapi snaked a hand down Koyama's boxers and started a jerky rhythm, one made more awkward by the way Koyama was bucking up against Yamapi's hand and hips. It was fast and rough, but Koyama always had liked that edge of pain. He just tilted his head back to give Yamapi better access to his neck.
Yamapi moved back up the long line of Koyama's neck to nip at his earlobe. "I want you," he gasped, like it wasn't obvious already, his voice rough and needy.
"What ar-," Koyama tripped over half his reply because Yamapi chose that moment to twist his wrist just the way Koyama liked, and his head snapped back so hard and so fast it made a loud hollow thump on the door.
One of Koyama's hands snaked up to twist into Yamapi's hair in retaliation, using his hold to keep Yamapi's mouth on his neck. The other hand moved down to start working on Yamapi's belt, surprisingly adept for one distracted hand.
"What are you waiting for then?" Koyama gasped, tugging more firmly on Yamapi's hair.
It was the last straw for Yamapi. He pulled his hand out of Koyama's pants despite the whine it pulled from Koyama's throat and used both hands to push Koyama's boxers down.
Koyama had barely stepped out of one leg before Yamapi grabbed it, pulling it up to hook around his waist-pants and boxers still caught around his other ankle-and started a much easier, teasing rhythm on Koyama's cock. Koyama's head thrashed at the sudden change of pace-compared to before it wasn't nearly enough.
Yamapi slipped Koyama a tube from his back pocket and murmured Get yourself ready for me against his lips, before sliding that hand back down to Koyama's waist to help hold him steady.
Koyama's hands shook from the aborted thrusts of his hips as he squeezed some lube onto his fingers. Koyama pushed them inside without preamble-he needed it and he needed it now-and as a reward for the pretty sounds he was making, Yamapi twisted his wrist just right again.
"Now, Pi. If you don't fucking hurry up, I will kill you," he said, and Yamapi smirked. He loved it when Koyama got this worked up, so that prep was more of a formality than anything else, so that he was begging practically before they even started. Koyama's hands tangled themselves in the back of Yamapi's shirt as Yamapi positioned himself and thrust in. He didn't go slowly now either. Koyama's hands just tightened further, clawing at him through his shirt.
Koyama had seven minutes to change, and Yamapi had every intention of making the most of it. His thrusts sped up quickly, not wasting any time. Koyama's back made hollow noises as it hit the door with every thrust, and despite his greater height, Yamapi'd practically lifted him onto his tiptoes with the motion of his body. Koyama compensated for the precarious position this put him in by pulling Yamapi closer against him with his other leg. This closed the space between their bodies, forcing Yamapi to relinquish the grip he had on Koyama's cock; instead Yamapi pushed Koyama's shirt up as high as it would go, relishing the look of all the red leather against Koyama's mostly bare skin.
Koyama rolled his hips down harder on Yamapi's cock, then back up to grind against the cotton of Yamapi's T-shirt, hissing at the friction and pulling at Yamapi's hair. Yamapi bit down on Koyama's neck, right along the edge of the collar, and that last edge was all Koyama needed to take him over, pouring a sticky stream against Yamapi's stomach. Yamapi thrust harder after that, each rocking thrust of his hips pushing Koyama up against the door, while Koyama gasped and spasmed around him.
Koyama leaned forward to set his lips against Yamapi's ear and said, "Come on. Come for me, baby." And Yamapi did.
Koyama had seven minutes to change. He used every single second of them, and walked back out on stage wearing the exact same outfit, surreptitiously checking to make sure his fly really was zipped. Luckily Yamapi didn't have to worry about going out because he wasn't supposed to be there. If he did, he'd have been in trouble, trying to explain away the stain on his shirt.
Author: anamuan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 895
Pairing: Koyamapi
Summary: Koyama has seven minutes to change. Yamapi has very little self-restraint.
A/N: It’s a bit choppy. Written to nihongofrancais in chat last night in a little under an hour. Proofread. Hit me.
Koyama had seven minutes to change. That should have been plenty of time, but the producers weren't counting on Yamapi.
Yamapi pressed Koyama up against the door as soon as he was far enough into the room to get it closed behind him. He smothered Koyama's surprised squeak with his tongue, then, once he was sure Koyama wouldn't protest, he started nipping a line down the sweaty skin of his throat. By the time Yamapi got down to his collarbones, Yamapi was already reaching for Koyama's pants.
Koyama had seven minutes to change. Yamapi wasn't wasting any of it. As he licked a line back up from the hollow of Koyama's throat to suck on his Adam's apple, he was already pushing Koyama's pants down off his hips.
Koyama was half-hard from the buzz of performing, hot and sweating from stage-lights. That's hard enough for Yamapi to resist, but what pushed him over this time was the red jacket. Straps and Leather. Yamapi wanted to see it against his skin.
Yamapi snaked a hand down Koyama's boxers and started a jerky rhythm, one made more awkward by the way Koyama was bucking up against Yamapi's hand and hips. It was fast and rough, but Koyama always had liked that edge of pain. He just tilted his head back to give Yamapi better access to his neck.
Yamapi moved back up the long line of Koyama's neck to nip at his earlobe. "I want you," he gasped, like it wasn't obvious already, his voice rough and needy.
"What ar-," Koyama tripped over half his reply because Yamapi chose that moment to twist his wrist just the way Koyama liked, and his head snapped back so hard and so fast it made a loud hollow thump on the door.
One of Koyama's hands snaked up to twist into Yamapi's hair in retaliation, using his hold to keep Yamapi's mouth on his neck. The other hand moved down to start working on Yamapi's belt, surprisingly adept for one distracted hand.
"What are you waiting for then?" Koyama gasped, tugging more firmly on Yamapi's hair.
It was the last straw for Yamapi. He pulled his hand out of Koyama's pants despite the whine it pulled from Koyama's throat and used both hands to push Koyama's boxers down.
Koyama had barely stepped out of one leg before Yamapi grabbed it, pulling it up to hook around his waist-pants and boxers still caught around his other ankle-and started a much easier, teasing rhythm on Koyama's cock. Koyama's head thrashed at the sudden change of pace-compared to before it wasn't nearly enough.
Yamapi slipped Koyama a tube from his back pocket and murmured Get yourself ready for me against his lips, before sliding that hand back down to Koyama's waist to help hold him steady.
Koyama's hands shook from the aborted thrusts of his hips as he squeezed some lube onto his fingers. Koyama pushed them inside without preamble-he needed it and he needed it now-and as a reward for the pretty sounds he was making, Yamapi twisted his wrist just right again.
"Now, Pi. If you don't fucking hurry up, I will kill you," he said, and Yamapi smirked. He loved it when Koyama got this worked up, so that prep was more of a formality than anything else, so that he was begging practically before they even started. Koyama's hands tangled themselves in the back of Yamapi's shirt as Yamapi positioned himself and thrust in. He didn't go slowly now either. Koyama's hands just tightened further, clawing at him through his shirt.
Koyama had seven minutes to change, and Yamapi had every intention of making the most of it. His thrusts sped up quickly, not wasting any time. Koyama's back made hollow noises as it hit the door with every thrust, and despite his greater height, Yamapi'd practically lifted him onto his tiptoes with the motion of his body. Koyama compensated for the precarious position this put him in by pulling Yamapi closer against him with his other leg. This closed the space between their bodies, forcing Yamapi to relinquish the grip he had on Koyama's cock; instead Yamapi pushed Koyama's shirt up as high as it would go, relishing the look of all the red leather against Koyama's mostly bare skin.
Koyama rolled his hips down harder on Yamapi's cock, then back up to grind against the cotton of Yamapi's T-shirt, hissing at the friction and pulling at Yamapi's hair. Yamapi bit down on Koyama's neck, right along the edge of the collar, and that last edge was all Koyama needed to take him over, pouring a sticky stream against Yamapi's stomach. Yamapi thrust harder after that, each rocking thrust of his hips pushing Koyama up against the door, while Koyama gasped and spasmed around him.
Koyama leaned forward to set his lips against Yamapi's ear and said, "Come on. Come for me, baby." And Yamapi did.
Koyama had seven minutes to change. He used every single second of them, and walked back out on stage wearing the exact same outfit, surreptitiously checking to make sure his fly really was zipped. Luckily Yamapi didn't have to worry about going out because he wasn't supposed to be there. If he did, he'd have been in trouble, trying to explain away the stain on his shirt.