fic: Under the bridge
Title: Under the bridge
Author: prologuesized
Pairing(s): HayatoJin
Rating: NC-17
Genre: pwp, AU since Hayato and Jin are both there, darkfic
Beta by: -
Disclaimer: not mine at all, purely fanwritten
Summary: Just two twisted, lonely and broken hearts running into each others, trying to create something from their fragments.
Warning: rating and genre should say it all. ...plus if you need a warning since Jin and Hayato are... well... kinda the same person...
Author Note: Requested again. Damn, I seem to write requested pwps a bit too much B< Anyway, you can thank (or blame) fiktioraja and her friend (who also has an lj account but for the moment I'm a bit too tired to go looking for it) for this piece.
...It did its best trying to go wrong. But whatever, it's 2 a.m. now so... Ah, I won't say anything about it before the morning comes.
Enjoy.
And yes, that's a damn imaginative title. Forgive me. :(
Under the bridge
He’s getting wasted, yet he isn’t giving a shit about it. This has become something along the lines of a routine for him, since he doesn’t have any other ways to accompany his time during the evenings and nights anymore. He doesn’t like just going home alone and staying with his thoughts, memories playing endlessly on repeat, ridding him of his sleep.
So he licks the salt from his hand, gulps down the clear liquid from his small glass and bits his teeth to a sour slice of lemon, the music around him blasting loudly, drowning all his thoughts. His mind is spinning and he knows he’s had more than enough, but there’s no way he’ll admit it to himself just yet. Because if he remains without taking more for too long, his high will drop and so will the mood he’s desperately clinging to as he is there, eyeing people around him as he fishes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, heading outside to have some time off from the heated hall that smells like sweat and sex, of all the people grinding against each others in erotic waves. It’s a hall of sin, full of just pure and somehow justified humanity. It’s a place where most norms and ethics are thrown aside.
And it’s working perfectly as a distraction, he thinks bitterly as he steps outside, lighting up his cigarette and drawing smoke to his aching lungs before sighing it all out in a slow, deep and tired manner, leaning against the brick wall, eyes hard and bitter as they look at the city lights.
After a minute someone else steps out as well, and Jin looks at him. The man has the same kind of look in his eyes, the same grudge against everything the world has granted him with. He snatches the pack of cigarettes from Jin’s hand, taking one for himself.
“Light?” he mutters, yet Jin knows that it really isn’t a polite question. He lights up the cigarette and for a while they both just stand there in silence, eyeing each others shamelessly. The man blows out smoke that lingers in the air. Jin throws his own cigarette to the ground and crushes it with his shoe.
“So how did you end up in here?” the other man asks. There’s something about him that Jin isn’t quite sure he likes - he’s cocky and acting all almighty, even with that pretty, clear skin of his and soft, silky hair curling from the edges like a girl’s. Maybe it’s the attitude with what he gains his respect in his usual circles, Jin decides, since he doesn’t seem the type you can argue against without getting nasty bruises in your face and loosing a few teeth. His physique shouldn’t be underestimated either.
So instead of leaving and going back inside, for some reason he finds himself still leaning against the wall, sighing out heavily. “Long story.”
“Long stories can be ridiculously easily summarized,” the man says, his tone uncaring. Or it would’ve been for probably almost everyone else, but Jin seems himself somewhere in the man and knows that his story probably holds all the meaning to the world to him, but he doesn’t like to admit it even to himself, and damn him if anyone around him would ever hear him admit it.
Jin lets out an unamused laughter. “Ditched,” he answers. And, he notices, it really wasn’t that hard to make the story short and less personal. The other person smiles too, not fully amused either, dropping his own cigarette to the ground and smashing it.
“Same,” he answers and looks back at Jin, his neck slightly curved back almost daringly. And Jin knows that the man is just like him, drowning his sorrow in the shallowness of the world, cursing all the remaining depth of him to the darkest pits of hell. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Jin swallows hard, looking at the pitch black night-sky above them. “I’m going to show him that I don’t care,” he answers, his voice venomous as he suppresses his emotions, only leaving raw anger. And the other man, young and in a way like a pretty-boy-gone-bad laughs.
“And you can do it in there, just dancing with all those people, seducing them and touching them where you shouldn’t? Yet still, you’ve never taken anyone home,” the man mocks him, making Jin look at him in suspicion. “It’s not my first night in here either,” the man answers simply.
Jin doesn’t like admitting his failure so he just presses his lips together to a straight line and runs his fingers through his hair before looking at the man again. “I haven’t found anyone worth taking home.”
The other man laughs. “Take me,” he answers, his cold stare challenging Jin as he steps closer, cocking his head. He isn’t really smiling, but his eyebrows are raised, and Jin knows he’s being mocked and manipulated.
But he doesn’t like losing, and when he thinks about it, why wouldn’t he. Instead of crawling back home after five more hours of getting more wasted and throwing up an hour more at home before going to sleep in his cold and empty sheets all alone, why wouldn’t he hook up with someone. Why wouldn’t he really show how damn over all of it he was, how damn angry and bitter he was, willing to do something as rash and stupid like this?
He doesn’t answer verbally, not really even by physical contact. He just starts walking away, but somehow the other man knows what he means and follows, his fingers gently running up the back of his neck as the man reaches him, walking next to him.
And even the fingers stay there in his neck, tapping it, and Jin starts feeling like it’s a quiet warning, a mere tease, beast playing with his prey before claiming what he wants without taking a no for an answer. Breathing becomes just a bit harder, but it doesn’t feel too bad.
He doesn’t really care what tonight will bring him, because about one thing he is entirely sure: finally tonight he can put it all to its rest, forget about everything as he embraces a darker side of himself. And he wants to drown in that part of his, so sinful and cold. He’s not laying himself out there fully anymore, those days are behind. What remains is this: the mere shallow surface, himself letting go of his old chains as he adopts a new lifestyle, a lifestyle that can drown all the voices and thoughts in his head.
They don’t make it far before he realises that the fingers aren’t there in his back anymore and he blinks. But he’s been too distracted when sinking into his thoughts to recover fast enough to stop the other man’s attack, grasping a strong hold of his wrists and pulling him to the shadows, down a small downhill under a bridge. It’s night and it’s dark, so all he can do is gasp and grunt with a hint of disapproval in his voice, but his back is already against the harsh and rough surface and his words are killed before they even reach his lips with a violent kiss. The man bites down to his lower lip and pulls it, drawing blood that Jin can taste in his mouth, and he wonders where his remaining control had gone so quickly.
His scarf is ripped away from him, making way for hard and hot kisses in the cool Autumn night. He lets out another grunt, closing his eyes as he decides to just go with it. It’s better for his pride, since he has a feeling that if he doesn’t comply, he’ll just be raped there, and that if something would hurt him to no end.
It’s better to just go along with it willingly. To actually want this. And in a way, he does. Having a physique matching his own, being controlled and dominated by someone so dark, so pained and hurt felt good. It felt good and it felt right - it was comfort. Maybe others wouldn’t see it as such, and he certainly would never say it aloud, but that’s what it was.
Just two twisted, lonely and broken hearts running into each others, trying to create something from their tragic fragments.
“Your name,” he hisses as the other one sucks on the vein in his neck and he feels his body shudder. He puts his hands on the other man’s hips and pulls him closer, tilting his head back to give the man more access. And those lips are talented, he decides as he lets out hot and raspy breaths, his whole body tingling at the touch.
And he wants it, he decides. It doesn’t matter if it isn’t him anymore. He really doesn’t give a shit, not tonight, he decides, digging his nails in the other one’s flesh on his hipbones, and the man’s lips tremble as he bites harshly Jin’s jaw line for revenge.
“Yabuki Hayato,” comes out the daring answer, head tilting back a bit. And Jin gets the impression of a beast before attack, looking at his prey’s eyes with those narrowed, dark eyes of his own, and indeed, their lips are soon smashed together. And Jin has never had anyone quite like this man over him.
His scarf is soon tied around his eyes and he tries to fight against Hayato for the first time, pushing him away as he ties the knot and crashes him against the bridge again, twisting his arms behind him as his face gets scratched from the raw surface of it. And Jin’s black leather jacket and white shirt are ripped away, baring his skin. And he’s there, vulnerable.
This wasn’t quite what he had imagined he would ever end up doing, letting himself being manhandled like this. He had actually thought that he could stand a chance, but he was quickly loosing those assumptions of his as his hands were tied together, and he knows that Hayato has taken his own scarf off as well.
His neck and shoulders are abused with harsh bites and wet kisses, as he keeps panting against the cool mixture of metal and stone. He knows he’ll get troubles at work and is grateful that any photoshoots aren’t coming up as he feels a few droplets of blood slowly dripping down his back, just to be kissed away.
And the situation is real, dangerously vivid. And it’s the best he remembers having in way too long. He grinds his hips against the hard wall before himself and Hayato lets out a dangerous chuckle in his ear as he grabs a hold of his hips, pulling him back, keeping him from repeating the action. And Jin’s growing frustrated, frustrated as his jeans are getting tighter and the fabric rubbing against his crotch just isn’t enough anymore.
Hayato doesn’t seem to give a shit about it.
His hands are wrapped around Jin, nails scratching down his chest unbearably erotically somehow, and Jin trembles at the touch, leaning back and tilting his head and gasping as the man kisses the back of his ear, pulling the lobe with his teeth, daring him to keep up with it. And he does.
There’s a sound of rustling as Hayato removes his own jacket and shirt, and Jin has a feeling he’s also ridding himself of his trousers as well. Arms go around his hips and start, finally, unbuckling his belt, and soon Jin is discarded from all of his clothing, only his jewellery remaining as he’s exposed in public.
He can only hope that the press doesn’t interfere, or it is the end of his career. Not that he would feel like bothering to care about it right now, not now when his chest is against Hayato’s as well and he can feel something cold against his collarbones, making him writhe and moan loudly. A necklace? Probably, he has a faint image of something like it peeking under Hayato’s scarf earlier. And damn it feels good.
Jin notices that he has almost forgotten how good it feels to be skin against skin with someone in a sweaty and hot body-contact. Hayato grunts, releasing his hands, and heated touches are shared, his own hands trailing down Hayato’s spine and Hayato’s hands on his buttocks, leading him to raise his legs and wrap them around his. For a while Jin struggles against it to keep his pride, but soon he finds himself forced as his feet are lifted from the ground, and it feels like a more prideful thing to do than just hanging in there. He can feel the smirk on Hayato’s lips as he kisses him again, mouth hot and panting as their saliva mixes. And when Hayato pulls away, some of it drips down Jin’s chin with no one to wipe it away.
He has always acknowledged that he likes men, but tonight he realises it on a different level. He had always liked women, big breasts and curvy bodies writhing while making high and pure voices, the tender flesh connecting better with his own, but other than that, he never felt quite connected them. Men felt like nothing until he had stepped in the picture, and Jin had seen the light - he had felt that finally there really was someone in the world for him, someone he could want both physically and mentally, yet still here was where he had ended up. Alone and messed up, pressed against a body dangerously much like his own, and it doesn’t even feel bad. And he trembles in pleasure, whimpering and murmuring in Hayato’s ear as their bodies brush against each others, feeling himself hardening at the touch.
There’s a mental tide with this man, he realises, something he can’t even describe. He knows they’re the same, and that’s enough for him. He knows the pain they both hide, the other one’s dying need to find something to compensate for something he’s lost, but not having any faith for such a thing to occur. And it feels good, bitterly so.
He grinds their hips together and Hayato moans. He is loud and Jin gets scared that people will hear them and come and see what’s happening, but when he tries to bite down somewhere, Hayato’s chin he guesses, he just keeps getting louder and louder and Jin has to just curse and cope with it.
And damn, that man is loud, he has to admit as his hips jolt in heated waves of pleasure. They’re exchanging sloppy and wet kisses, Hayato’s tongue forcefully pushing in his mouth and almost choking him. Jin has his hands around Hayato’s neck, pulling him closer, tracing their way to his hair and ruffling it, imagining how the pretty curls become all ruffled and messed up, how the man looks as he’s cheeks get flustered, sweat prickling down his temples. And his hot breath against his face feels wonderful, and the whimpers he makes send vibrations all the way down to his toes that he curls in delight, a raspy moan escaping from his throat again. And Hayato has his fingers inside of Jin, pushing, stretching and just simply touching him there intimately. He shudders and moans, lust shaking his form and clouding his mind as the blindfold loosens too much and falls to the ground, but neither are in any position to get the will-strength to pick it up again.
When Hayato enters him, his fingers teasingly tapping the tip of Jin’s erection, a flash of white invades Jin’s vision and he grips a strong hold of Hayato’s shoulders, nails sinking deep. Hayato doesn’t seem to mind, only moaning loudly and grinding their hips together unnecessarily hard, his own need pulsating inside of Jin, cheeks indeed flushed and mouth open in his pants.
It feels good to grip harder against Hayato’s hips with his sensitive inner thighs, hissing at the mixture of pain and pleasure building up on him. And he slaps Hayato’s hand away from his need and tries to handle it by himself, only to be distracted by Hayato’s hand, somewhat wet with his pre-cum, touching his collar bones and he screams, body trashing as he throws his head back. The voice echoes and he feels embarrassed, cursing loudly, only ending up screaming again as Hayato repeats the action. And Jin lets go of his need and tries to force Hayato’s hands away.
Jin knows it’s all been just manipulation when Hayato starts grinding their hips together in faster and rougher waves, his hand moving up and down, massaging, pulling and pressing Jin’s erection between them with his hand, the other one holding Jin from the small of his back against him. And Jin moans and shudders as Hayato kisses his cheeks, lips, chin, jaw line and neck with that heated mouth of his, leaving the places wet. And when the wet parts are exposed to the cool air, Jin gasps and presses Hayato’s hips with his legs just a bit tighter, his hands gripping and pulling Hayato’s hair as he guides him closer, the pleasure building up to be just a bit too much for him to handle.
And Hayato keeps rapidly and harshly moving their hips and working with his magical fingers and nails with Jin’s need as he kisses and nibbles at his collar, and Jin can feel his whole body trash around and squirm under the touch.
And when Hayato hits that spot inside of him, that way too good spot making him arch his body and scream breathlessly, he spasms as he comes, body clinging to Hayato’s desperately, nails clawing at his back. They collapse to the ground, and for a while they keep squirming in there, Hayato still making love to his body before he too comes, collapsing over him with a loud moan, pushing forcefully deeper and deeper even at the peak of his pleasure.
He doesn’t know how long they lie there panting and recovering against each others. What he does know, is that Hayato’s hair smells like coconut shampoo, filling his nose as he closes his eyes and runs his hands through it, pressing the top of the man’s head against his face to breathe it in just a bit more. And Hayato kisses his lips again in a silent thank you, even though it really is him who did most of the work, Jin concludes.
“Will you still come over?” he finds himself asking as he taps Hayato’s neck with his fingers and parts his legs under him again, wrapping his tender thighs around his hips again invitingly. Hayato’s eyes remain complicated to read as he looks at him with that blank and uncaring expression on his face, wondering if he should take the offer or not.
And in Jin’s house they end up, neither thinking about anything else then their heated bodies working together in the wake of the morning. After a couple of hours of sleep, Jin’s alarm rings and they curse as Jin crawls up to get ready to work again. Hayato refuses to get up so early and says he’ll excuse himself later, remaining in the bed, pulling Jin’s pillow over his head.
When Jin comes home late that night, Hayato is gone and his fridge is almost empty.
There’s an envelope on the table and he picks it up curiously, taking out a bunch of pictures with a horrified look on his face and he curses, his face paled in an ashen shade as he sees his career crumbling away.
A note saying ‘Thank you for financially supporting my trip to him.’ is written behind the last picture, and Jin curses loud and bitterly, knowing that there’s no one else to blame than himself.
Author: prologuesized
Pairing(s): HayatoJin
Rating: NC-17
Genre: pwp, AU since Hayato and Jin are both there, darkfic
Beta by: -
Disclaimer: not mine at all, purely fanwritten
Summary: Just two twisted, lonely and broken hearts running into each others, trying to create something from their fragments.
Warning: rating and genre should say it all. ...plus if you need a warning since Jin and Hayato are... well... kinda the same person...
Author Note: Requested again. Damn, I seem to write requested pwps a bit too much B< Anyway, you can thank (or blame) fiktioraja and her friend (who also has an lj account but for the moment I'm a bit too tired to go looking for it) for this piece.
...It did its best trying to go wrong. But whatever, it's 2 a.m. now so... Ah, I won't say anything about it before the morning comes.
Enjoy.
And yes, that's a damn imaginative title. Forgive me. :(
Under the bridge
He’s getting wasted, yet he isn’t giving a shit about it. This has become something along the lines of a routine for him, since he doesn’t have any other ways to accompany his time during the evenings and nights anymore. He doesn’t like just going home alone and staying with his thoughts, memories playing endlessly on repeat, ridding him of his sleep.
So he licks the salt from his hand, gulps down the clear liquid from his small glass and bits his teeth to a sour slice of lemon, the music around him blasting loudly, drowning all his thoughts. His mind is spinning and he knows he’s had more than enough, but there’s no way he’ll admit it to himself just yet. Because if he remains without taking more for too long, his high will drop and so will the mood he’s desperately clinging to as he is there, eyeing people around him as he fishes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, heading outside to have some time off from the heated hall that smells like sweat and sex, of all the people grinding against each others in erotic waves. It’s a hall of sin, full of just pure and somehow justified humanity. It’s a place where most norms and ethics are thrown aside.
And it’s working perfectly as a distraction, he thinks bitterly as he steps outside, lighting up his cigarette and drawing smoke to his aching lungs before sighing it all out in a slow, deep and tired manner, leaning against the brick wall, eyes hard and bitter as they look at the city lights.
After a minute someone else steps out as well, and Jin looks at him. The man has the same kind of look in his eyes, the same grudge against everything the world has granted him with. He snatches the pack of cigarettes from Jin’s hand, taking one for himself.
“Light?” he mutters, yet Jin knows that it really isn’t a polite question. He lights up the cigarette and for a while they both just stand there in silence, eyeing each others shamelessly. The man blows out smoke that lingers in the air. Jin throws his own cigarette to the ground and crushes it with his shoe.
“So how did you end up in here?” the other man asks. There’s something about him that Jin isn’t quite sure he likes - he’s cocky and acting all almighty, even with that pretty, clear skin of his and soft, silky hair curling from the edges like a girl’s. Maybe it’s the attitude with what he gains his respect in his usual circles, Jin decides, since he doesn’t seem the type you can argue against without getting nasty bruises in your face and loosing a few teeth. His physique shouldn’t be underestimated either.
So instead of leaving and going back inside, for some reason he finds himself still leaning against the wall, sighing out heavily. “Long story.”
“Long stories can be ridiculously easily summarized,” the man says, his tone uncaring. Or it would’ve been for probably almost everyone else, but Jin seems himself somewhere in the man and knows that his story probably holds all the meaning to the world to him, but he doesn’t like to admit it even to himself, and damn him if anyone around him would ever hear him admit it.
Jin lets out an unamused laughter. “Ditched,” he answers. And, he notices, it really wasn’t that hard to make the story short and less personal. The other person smiles too, not fully amused either, dropping his own cigarette to the ground and smashing it.
“Same,” he answers and looks back at Jin, his neck slightly curved back almost daringly. And Jin knows that the man is just like him, drowning his sorrow in the shallowness of the world, cursing all the remaining depth of him to the darkest pits of hell. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Jin swallows hard, looking at the pitch black night-sky above them. “I’m going to show him that I don’t care,” he answers, his voice venomous as he suppresses his emotions, only leaving raw anger. And the other man, young and in a way like a pretty-boy-gone-bad laughs.
“And you can do it in there, just dancing with all those people, seducing them and touching them where you shouldn’t? Yet still, you’ve never taken anyone home,” the man mocks him, making Jin look at him in suspicion. “It’s not my first night in here either,” the man answers simply.
Jin doesn’t like admitting his failure so he just presses his lips together to a straight line and runs his fingers through his hair before looking at the man again. “I haven’t found anyone worth taking home.”
The other man laughs. “Take me,” he answers, his cold stare challenging Jin as he steps closer, cocking his head. He isn’t really smiling, but his eyebrows are raised, and Jin knows he’s being mocked and manipulated.
But he doesn’t like losing, and when he thinks about it, why wouldn’t he. Instead of crawling back home after five more hours of getting more wasted and throwing up an hour more at home before going to sleep in his cold and empty sheets all alone, why wouldn’t he hook up with someone. Why wouldn’t he really show how damn over all of it he was, how damn angry and bitter he was, willing to do something as rash and stupid like this?
He doesn’t answer verbally, not really even by physical contact. He just starts walking away, but somehow the other man knows what he means and follows, his fingers gently running up the back of his neck as the man reaches him, walking next to him.
And even the fingers stay there in his neck, tapping it, and Jin starts feeling like it’s a quiet warning, a mere tease, beast playing with his prey before claiming what he wants without taking a no for an answer. Breathing becomes just a bit harder, but it doesn’t feel too bad.
He doesn’t really care what tonight will bring him, because about one thing he is entirely sure: finally tonight he can put it all to its rest, forget about everything as he embraces a darker side of himself. And he wants to drown in that part of his, so sinful and cold. He’s not laying himself out there fully anymore, those days are behind. What remains is this: the mere shallow surface, himself letting go of his old chains as he adopts a new lifestyle, a lifestyle that can drown all the voices and thoughts in his head.
They don’t make it far before he realises that the fingers aren’t there in his back anymore and he blinks. But he’s been too distracted when sinking into his thoughts to recover fast enough to stop the other man’s attack, grasping a strong hold of his wrists and pulling him to the shadows, down a small downhill under a bridge. It’s night and it’s dark, so all he can do is gasp and grunt with a hint of disapproval in his voice, but his back is already against the harsh and rough surface and his words are killed before they even reach his lips with a violent kiss. The man bites down to his lower lip and pulls it, drawing blood that Jin can taste in his mouth, and he wonders where his remaining control had gone so quickly.
His scarf is ripped away from him, making way for hard and hot kisses in the cool Autumn night. He lets out another grunt, closing his eyes as he decides to just go with it. It’s better for his pride, since he has a feeling that if he doesn’t comply, he’ll just be raped there, and that if something would hurt him to no end.
It’s better to just go along with it willingly. To actually want this. And in a way, he does. Having a physique matching his own, being controlled and dominated by someone so dark, so pained and hurt felt good. It felt good and it felt right - it was comfort. Maybe others wouldn’t see it as such, and he certainly would never say it aloud, but that’s what it was.
Just two twisted, lonely and broken hearts running into each others, trying to create something from their tragic fragments.
“Your name,” he hisses as the other one sucks on the vein in his neck and he feels his body shudder. He puts his hands on the other man’s hips and pulls him closer, tilting his head back to give the man more access. And those lips are talented, he decides as he lets out hot and raspy breaths, his whole body tingling at the touch.
And he wants it, he decides. It doesn’t matter if it isn’t him anymore. He really doesn’t give a shit, not tonight, he decides, digging his nails in the other one’s flesh on his hipbones, and the man’s lips tremble as he bites harshly Jin’s jaw line for revenge.
“Yabuki Hayato,” comes out the daring answer, head tilting back a bit. And Jin gets the impression of a beast before attack, looking at his prey’s eyes with those narrowed, dark eyes of his own, and indeed, their lips are soon smashed together. And Jin has never had anyone quite like this man over him.
His scarf is soon tied around his eyes and he tries to fight against Hayato for the first time, pushing him away as he ties the knot and crashes him against the bridge again, twisting his arms behind him as his face gets scratched from the raw surface of it. And Jin’s black leather jacket and white shirt are ripped away, baring his skin. And he’s there, vulnerable.
This wasn’t quite what he had imagined he would ever end up doing, letting himself being manhandled like this. He had actually thought that he could stand a chance, but he was quickly loosing those assumptions of his as his hands were tied together, and he knows that Hayato has taken his own scarf off as well.
His neck and shoulders are abused with harsh bites and wet kisses, as he keeps panting against the cool mixture of metal and stone. He knows he’ll get troubles at work and is grateful that any photoshoots aren’t coming up as he feels a few droplets of blood slowly dripping down his back, just to be kissed away.
And the situation is real, dangerously vivid. And it’s the best he remembers having in way too long. He grinds his hips against the hard wall before himself and Hayato lets out a dangerous chuckle in his ear as he grabs a hold of his hips, pulling him back, keeping him from repeating the action. And Jin’s growing frustrated, frustrated as his jeans are getting tighter and the fabric rubbing against his crotch just isn’t enough anymore.
Hayato doesn’t seem to give a shit about it.
His hands are wrapped around Jin, nails scratching down his chest unbearably erotically somehow, and Jin trembles at the touch, leaning back and tilting his head and gasping as the man kisses the back of his ear, pulling the lobe with his teeth, daring him to keep up with it. And he does.
There’s a sound of rustling as Hayato removes his own jacket and shirt, and Jin has a feeling he’s also ridding himself of his trousers as well. Arms go around his hips and start, finally, unbuckling his belt, and soon Jin is discarded from all of his clothing, only his jewellery remaining as he’s exposed in public.
He can only hope that the press doesn’t interfere, or it is the end of his career. Not that he would feel like bothering to care about it right now, not now when his chest is against Hayato’s as well and he can feel something cold against his collarbones, making him writhe and moan loudly. A necklace? Probably, he has a faint image of something like it peeking under Hayato’s scarf earlier. And damn it feels good.
Jin notices that he has almost forgotten how good it feels to be skin against skin with someone in a sweaty and hot body-contact. Hayato grunts, releasing his hands, and heated touches are shared, his own hands trailing down Hayato’s spine and Hayato’s hands on his buttocks, leading him to raise his legs and wrap them around his. For a while Jin struggles against it to keep his pride, but soon he finds himself forced as his feet are lifted from the ground, and it feels like a more prideful thing to do than just hanging in there. He can feel the smirk on Hayato’s lips as he kisses him again, mouth hot and panting as their saliva mixes. And when Hayato pulls away, some of it drips down Jin’s chin with no one to wipe it away.
He has always acknowledged that he likes men, but tonight he realises it on a different level. He had always liked women, big breasts and curvy bodies writhing while making high and pure voices, the tender flesh connecting better with his own, but other than that, he never felt quite connected them. Men felt like nothing until he had stepped in the picture, and Jin had seen the light - he had felt that finally there really was someone in the world for him, someone he could want both physically and mentally, yet still here was where he had ended up. Alone and messed up, pressed against a body dangerously much like his own, and it doesn’t even feel bad. And he trembles in pleasure, whimpering and murmuring in Hayato’s ear as their bodies brush against each others, feeling himself hardening at the touch.
There’s a mental tide with this man, he realises, something he can’t even describe. He knows they’re the same, and that’s enough for him. He knows the pain they both hide, the other one’s dying need to find something to compensate for something he’s lost, but not having any faith for such a thing to occur. And it feels good, bitterly so.
He grinds their hips together and Hayato moans. He is loud and Jin gets scared that people will hear them and come and see what’s happening, but when he tries to bite down somewhere, Hayato’s chin he guesses, he just keeps getting louder and louder and Jin has to just curse and cope with it.
And damn, that man is loud, he has to admit as his hips jolt in heated waves of pleasure. They’re exchanging sloppy and wet kisses, Hayato’s tongue forcefully pushing in his mouth and almost choking him. Jin has his hands around Hayato’s neck, pulling him closer, tracing their way to his hair and ruffling it, imagining how the pretty curls become all ruffled and messed up, how the man looks as he’s cheeks get flustered, sweat prickling down his temples. And his hot breath against his face feels wonderful, and the whimpers he makes send vibrations all the way down to his toes that he curls in delight, a raspy moan escaping from his throat again. And Hayato has his fingers inside of Jin, pushing, stretching and just simply touching him there intimately. He shudders and moans, lust shaking his form and clouding his mind as the blindfold loosens too much and falls to the ground, but neither are in any position to get the will-strength to pick it up again.
When Hayato enters him, his fingers teasingly tapping the tip of Jin’s erection, a flash of white invades Jin’s vision and he grips a strong hold of Hayato’s shoulders, nails sinking deep. Hayato doesn’t seem to mind, only moaning loudly and grinding their hips together unnecessarily hard, his own need pulsating inside of Jin, cheeks indeed flushed and mouth open in his pants.
It feels good to grip harder against Hayato’s hips with his sensitive inner thighs, hissing at the mixture of pain and pleasure building up on him. And he slaps Hayato’s hand away from his need and tries to handle it by himself, only to be distracted by Hayato’s hand, somewhat wet with his pre-cum, touching his collar bones and he screams, body trashing as he throws his head back. The voice echoes and he feels embarrassed, cursing loudly, only ending up screaming again as Hayato repeats the action. And Jin lets go of his need and tries to force Hayato’s hands away.
Jin knows it’s all been just manipulation when Hayato starts grinding their hips together in faster and rougher waves, his hand moving up and down, massaging, pulling and pressing Jin’s erection between them with his hand, the other one holding Jin from the small of his back against him. And Jin moans and shudders as Hayato kisses his cheeks, lips, chin, jaw line and neck with that heated mouth of his, leaving the places wet. And when the wet parts are exposed to the cool air, Jin gasps and presses Hayato’s hips with his legs just a bit tighter, his hands gripping and pulling Hayato’s hair as he guides him closer, the pleasure building up to be just a bit too much for him to handle.
And Hayato keeps rapidly and harshly moving their hips and working with his magical fingers and nails with Jin’s need as he kisses and nibbles at his collar, and Jin can feel his whole body trash around and squirm under the touch.
And when Hayato hits that spot inside of him, that way too good spot making him arch his body and scream breathlessly, he spasms as he comes, body clinging to Hayato’s desperately, nails clawing at his back. They collapse to the ground, and for a while they keep squirming in there, Hayato still making love to his body before he too comes, collapsing over him with a loud moan, pushing forcefully deeper and deeper even at the peak of his pleasure.
He doesn’t know how long they lie there panting and recovering against each others. What he does know, is that Hayato’s hair smells like coconut shampoo, filling his nose as he closes his eyes and runs his hands through it, pressing the top of the man’s head against his face to breathe it in just a bit more. And Hayato kisses his lips again in a silent thank you, even though it really is him who did most of the work, Jin concludes.
“Will you still come over?” he finds himself asking as he taps Hayato’s neck with his fingers and parts his legs under him again, wrapping his tender thighs around his hips again invitingly. Hayato’s eyes remain complicated to read as he looks at him with that blank and uncaring expression on his face, wondering if he should take the offer or not.
And in Jin’s house they end up, neither thinking about anything else then their heated bodies working together in the wake of the morning. After a couple of hours of sleep, Jin’s alarm rings and they curse as Jin crawls up to get ready to work again. Hayato refuses to get up so early and says he’ll excuse himself later, remaining in the bed, pulling Jin’s pillow over his head.
When Jin comes home late that night, Hayato is gone and his fridge is almost empty.
There’s an envelope on the table and he picks it up curiously, taking out a bunch of pictures with a horrified look on his face and he curses, his face paled in an ashen shade as he sees his career crumbling away.
A note saying ‘Thank you for financially supporting my trip to him.’ is written behind the last picture, and Jin curses loud and bitterly, knowing that there’s no one else to blame than himself.