fic post: Diversions [mugen/jin - samurai champloo]
Title: Diversions
Author: otakuwench
Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo. (I don't even know who does, sadly enough... >.>)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Mugen is bored. Jin is an easy target.
Pairing: Mugen/Jin
Warnings: Unbetaed. First ever attempt at writing porn after nearly a decade of reading it. No promises regarding quality. >.> I'm seriously blushing even posting this orz (Also, present tense wtf why do you always show up)
Wordcount: 978
Jin strides through the long brown grass up to the rickety shack they’ve commandeered for the night. He’s left Fuu at the festival in town; she was participating in some new eating competition and slaughtering the other participants when he left. Growing bored of watching her gorge herself, he’s left her to waddle home on her own later. The amusing image that accompanies that thought causes one corner of his mouth to turn up (the most he ever smiles) as he pushes the creaking door open.
He sees a dark figure and tenses, hand flying to his swords, but it is only Mugen, standing across the room, slouched against the wall. There is an inscrutable look on his face, but it is replaced with a predatory grin when he sees who has entered. He pushes himself upright and saunters over to Jin as the ronin slides the door shut behind him. Jin keeps his eyes on the other man, unsure what Mugen has in mind - his blade is lying on the floor near the opposite wall - and then suddenly, before Jin can process the motion, Mugen moves like a snake striking.
The kiss, for he is being kissed, is as much a battle as the rest of their duels, and after the initial shock, Jin refuses to lose. Mugen heaves him against the wall of the shack; his hands, tangled in Jin’s hair, pull the tie free and let it flow down his back. Jin returns the favor by fisting his hands roughly in the front of Mugen’s shirt, dragging him closer. His blades knock loudly against the wall and he yanks them from his waistband to drop them at their feet; Mugen kicks them roughly out of the way without missing a beat. The kiss is still going, all tongues and teeth and wet heat, and Jin can taste blood, he’s pretty sure, but he can’t bring himself to care.
Instead he tilts his head back and allows Mugen to nip and kiss his way along the curve of his neck and collarbone into the hollow of his throat, hands leaving Jin’s hair to push his hands under his gi, jerking it free of his hakama and shoving it down to bunch around Jin’s forearms. The night air is cool on his skin and Jin is not sure whether it’s that or the sword-calloused hands running over his back and shoulders that makes him shiver.
Mugen leans into him, pressing him against the wall, his erection hard against Jin’s hip. Jin shifts and arches into the other man, and Mugen groans in appreciation as their cocks come into contact. He finally succeeds in removing Jin’s shirt and tosses it aside only to grab his ass, pushing their hips together to prolong the feeling. Releasing the front of Mugen’s shirt, Jin slides his hands up under it, fingers running over smooth skin and hard muscle. He skates a blunt fingernail lightly over a tight nipple and feels Mugen’s cock twitch at the sensation.
“Off.” His voice is surprisingly steady as he pushes Mugen’s red shirt from his shoulders. Mugen pulls back for a second that seems like an eternity to drag his wrinkled undershirt up and over his head. His chest is as sun-dark as the rest of him and crisscrossed with thin white scars that gleam faintly in the moonlight filtering through the shack’s single window. Jin takes this all in and a split second later he is the one initiating the kiss, dragging Mugen close and savoring the feel of skin on skin.
One broad hand palms Jin’s cock through his hakama and he gasps into Mugen’s mouth, feeling the other man grin against his lips. Mugen does it again and Jin is suddenly glad of the wall behind him because his traitorous knees are threatening to buckle. It has been far too long since anyone’s touched him, and it’s causing him to lose control of the situation. He doesn’t realize that his hakama have been undone until they suddenly sag down to his knees and bunch there, supported by the stiff folds of fabric. A few more seconds and Mugen has untied his fundoshi as well; the looped fabric tumbles down on top of his hakama and Jin shudders as the cool night air slides around his cock.
The sensation only lasts an instant, however, because Mugen has shoved down his own short pants and wastes no time in taking both of them in hand. The feeling of Mugen’s rough hands and heavy cock against his own erection is blissfully, indescribably good, better than any soft whore’s touch ever was, and Jin moans as the other man pumps his fist once, twice, three times.
Mugen keeps up a steady rhythm and the pleasure builds and builds, a curling tightness in Jin’s balls, until the wave of orgasm crashes over him. He arches against Mugen wordlessly as come spatters across their stomachs. Mugen’s rhythm stutters and grows ragged and a minute later he is coming as well; his free hand comes up to grip Jin’s shoulder as he slumps against him, his body warm and damp with sweat.
They sink down to the floor together and sit quietly against the wall for a minute, both of them still with their pants around their ankles. Jin cleans himself off with Mugen’s red shirt as its owner halfheartedly struggles to pull his shorts back up around his hips.
“What was that for?” Jin finally breaks the silence.
Mugen is silent for a moment longer. “Shits and giggles, mostly.” He pauses. “Wanna do it again sometime?”
Jin counts to three before answering, giving himself time to steady his voice, to keep from sounding too desperate. “Sure,” he says nonchalantly as he rights his clothes.
They are both asleep, still propped against the wall, when Fuu finally gets home.
Author: otakuwench
Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo. (I don't even know who does, sadly enough... >.>)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Mugen is bored. Jin is an easy target.
Pairing: Mugen/Jin
Warnings: Unbetaed. First ever attempt at writing porn after nearly a decade of reading it. No promises regarding quality. >.> I'm seriously blushing even posting this orz (Also, present tense wtf why do you always show up)
Wordcount: 978
Jin strides through the long brown grass up to the rickety shack they’ve commandeered for the night. He’s left Fuu at the festival in town; she was participating in some new eating competition and slaughtering the other participants when he left. Growing bored of watching her gorge herself, he’s left her to waddle home on her own later. The amusing image that accompanies that thought causes one corner of his mouth to turn up (the most he ever smiles) as he pushes the creaking door open.
He sees a dark figure and tenses, hand flying to his swords, but it is only Mugen, standing across the room, slouched against the wall. There is an inscrutable look on his face, but it is replaced with a predatory grin when he sees who has entered. He pushes himself upright and saunters over to Jin as the ronin slides the door shut behind him. Jin keeps his eyes on the other man, unsure what Mugen has in mind - his blade is lying on the floor near the opposite wall - and then suddenly, before Jin can process the motion, Mugen moves like a snake striking.
The kiss, for he is being kissed, is as much a battle as the rest of their duels, and after the initial shock, Jin refuses to lose. Mugen heaves him against the wall of the shack; his hands, tangled in Jin’s hair, pull the tie free and let it flow down his back. Jin returns the favor by fisting his hands roughly in the front of Mugen’s shirt, dragging him closer. His blades knock loudly against the wall and he yanks them from his waistband to drop them at their feet; Mugen kicks them roughly out of the way without missing a beat. The kiss is still going, all tongues and teeth and wet heat, and Jin can taste blood, he’s pretty sure, but he can’t bring himself to care.
Instead he tilts his head back and allows Mugen to nip and kiss his way along the curve of his neck and collarbone into the hollow of his throat, hands leaving Jin’s hair to push his hands under his gi, jerking it free of his hakama and shoving it down to bunch around Jin’s forearms. The night air is cool on his skin and Jin is not sure whether it’s that or the sword-calloused hands running over his back and shoulders that makes him shiver.
Mugen leans into him, pressing him against the wall, his erection hard against Jin’s hip. Jin shifts and arches into the other man, and Mugen groans in appreciation as their cocks come into contact. He finally succeeds in removing Jin’s shirt and tosses it aside only to grab his ass, pushing their hips together to prolong the feeling. Releasing the front of Mugen’s shirt, Jin slides his hands up under it, fingers running over smooth skin and hard muscle. He skates a blunt fingernail lightly over a tight nipple and feels Mugen’s cock twitch at the sensation.
“Off.” His voice is surprisingly steady as he pushes Mugen’s red shirt from his shoulders. Mugen pulls back for a second that seems like an eternity to drag his wrinkled undershirt up and over his head. His chest is as sun-dark as the rest of him and crisscrossed with thin white scars that gleam faintly in the moonlight filtering through the shack’s single window. Jin takes this all in and a split second later he is the one initiating the kiss, dragging Mugen close and savoring the feel of skin on skin.
One broad hand palms Jin’s cock through his hakama and he gasps into Mugen’s mouth, feeling the other man grin against his lips. Mugen does it again and Jin is suddenly glad of the wall behind him because his traitorous knees are threatening to buckle. It has been far too long since anyone’s touched him, and it’s causing him to lose control of the situation. He doesn’t realize that his hakama have been undone until they suddenly sag down to his knees and bunch there, supported by the stiff folds of fabric. A few more seconds and Mugen has untied his fundoshi as well; the looped fabric tumbles down on top of his hakama and Jin shudders as the cool night air slides around his cock.
The sensation only lasts an instant, however, because Mugen has shoved down his own short pants and wastes no time in taking both of them in hand. The feeling of Mugen’s rough hands and heavy cock against his own erection is blissfully, indescribably good, better than any soft whore’s touch ever was, and Jin moans as the other man pumps his fist once, twice, three times.
Mugen keeps up a steady rhythm and the pleasure builds and builds, a curling tightness in Jin’s balls, until the wave of orgasm crashes over him. He arches against Mugen wordlessly as come spatters across their stomachs. Mugen’s rhythm stutters and grows ragged and a minute later he is coming as well; his free hand comes up to grip Jin’s shoulder as he slumps against him, his body warm and damp with sweat.
They sink down to the floor together and sit quietly against the wall for a minute, both of them still with their pants around their ankles. Jin cleans himself off with Mugen’s red shirt as its owner halfheartedly struggles to pull his shorts back up around his hips.
“What was that for?” Jin finally breaks the silence.
Mugen is silent for a moment longer. “Shits and giggles, mostly.” He pauses. “Wanna do it again sometime?”
Jin counts to three before answering, giving himself time to steady his voice, to keep from sounding too desperate. “Sure,” he says nonchalantly as he rights his clothes.
They are both asleep, still propped against the wall, when Fuu finally gets home.