Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (Han/Sean)
Title: Unconventional In The Most Conventional Ways
Author: Jan toxictattoo
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2211
Summary: Between Han and Sean; a show of loyalty and trust.
A/N: Prompt: July 9: #20. Fast & the Furious: Tokyo Drift, Han/Sean - Show of loyalty - the warmth of the running engine, 1. Trust for lazy15 and the first of three for the prompt, song for writing_days.
A continuation in my developing fic-universe. Previous fics: Tandem and Dangerous Philosophy
*~*~*
Rubbing at his forehead, Han blinked and squeezed his eyes. His pounding headache was not helped by the blaring song on the radio. He reached over and switched it off.
Sean looked at the radio, looked at Han, then back to the radio and, smooth-as-you-please, reached over and turned it back on.
“I just turned that off.”
“I know,” Sean said, his southern accent drawling lazily. “And I turned it back on.”
With a flick of the wrist, Han switched it off again. “You need to concentrate and you can’t concentrate with the music causing your eardrums to bleed.”
A frown creased Sean’s forehead. “It ain’t no louder than at one of your parties.”
“And if we were at one of my parties, it wouldn’t bother me. You are behind the wheel of the car. Concentrate.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“You’re driving, aren’t you?” Han motioned to the parking lot once they were at the beginning of the course. “Pull off there.”
“What bee got in your bonnet?”
Han’s mouth opened and he felt a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue. He bit it off with a snap of his teeth. “Headache.”
“Aahhhh, gotcha.” Sean shut the car door and followed Han to the curb. “Why don’t you let me buy?”
“Sure. Coffee.”
Sean jogged toward the row of vending machines and scanned down to look for their drinks, glancing back at Han with a broad grin every so often.
It was hard not to be infected by that smile and in spite of his headache, Han smiled back.
He stretched his arms overhead and went to lean against his Mazda, turning his attention to the blanket of lights that extended out in the valley below them. A cold can touched to his arm brought Han back out of his thoughts.
“You’re a million miles away, Han. You okay?” Sean popped the tab to his drink and took several loud swallows before he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
“Yeah,” Han tapped at his temple and shrugged, taking the can from Sean.
They drank in companionable silence, a comfortable space for them that consistently settled like a cozy blanket every time they were together.
Sean Boswell was a young man of few words. He had attitude and the confidence to back it up. What he didn’t know, he, albeit reluctantly at times, would admit he didn’t know and could impress you with how quickly he picked it up.
It suited Han. It was one of the reasons why he liked Sean around.
Having done a run in the U.S. with Dominic at one time, Han got to know a little about Americans and some of the regions. The south of the U.S., rich with a history of gut and muscle and undying loyalty to the end, appealed to Han.
Now, it seemed the embodiment of The South was leaning on his car next to him.
“You are lost in thought again,” Sean said with a snicker.
Han grinned again and shook off his uneasiness. It still clung to his back, like an itch he couldn’t reach but he resolved he wouldn’t worry about things he couldn’t put a name to until they were staring him dead in the face. “I guess that means you were talking to me.”
“Well, I invited you to bend me over the hood of your car,” came the cheeky, sluggish reply. “I can’t imagine that’d be an invitation you’d just let go with nothing said.”
“You’re right about that.” Han’s eyebrow lifted. Since when had Sean become so observant? Not that it was any surprise. “So is that an invitation or were you just testing me?”
Sean drained his drink and ambled over to the recycling bin to dump the can in. “Maybe.”
“Why?” Han set his half-drunk can on the ground next to a tire and leaned back against his hood casually. “I figured you for the romantic sort, losing your cherry in a bed or something.”
“Me? Romantic?” Sean laughed. “I ain’t so sure about that.” His hands tucked into his front pockets, he strolled over to Han and stood in front of him. Gaze lowered, looking almost like the shy virgin Han accused him of being, he shrugged. Sean peered from beneath his thick lashes. “Maybe I kind of like it unconventional.”
“Unconventional,” Han repeated. His lips twisted to keep from chuckling, his attempt at a straight face a losing battle.
“Yeah. Or maybe, I just want it.”
“Just want it.” Now that was a little easier to believe. “Don’t you want to hold on until you and Neela can do something together? Sweet first times and all that?”
“Who says we ain’t, already?”
“I say.” Han rested a hand on Sean’s shoulder. He spread his legs and pulled Sean closer. “You aren’t the type of guy to take advantage like that without it meaning something.”
“Okay. Them how ‘bout I’m horny.”
“That, I believe.” And now with Sean standing so close, the bulge in his jeans prominent, Han was getting aroused, despite his headache. His hand slid up Sean’s neck to cup and he pulled again, their mouths touching. Tentative, light, licking, each swipe across lips a taste test before delving deeper.
Sean leaned into him and moaned softly into Han’s mouth when their cocks brushed. The sensation was electric and rocketed through his limbs at high speed, sending signals of flash and pulse to his dick. “Take your belt off. Don’t want to scratch my paint job.”
“Yeah yeah.”
Their hands fumbled around each other, working swiftly to push clothing out of the way and make sure nothing sharp would dig into the car’s finish. Han’s hands moved over the bared flesh in front of him, feverish to the touch.
For a car jockey, Sean was in pretty good shape. Firm muscles and tight-bodied, every muscle-shift registering to Han’s sensitive exploration.
It was when he pushed up from his lean and was ready to turn Sean around and bend him over the hood of the car, he realized they were missing something vital. He tore his mouth away. “Shit”, he murmured. Still with one hand on Sean’s body to keep him pulled flush, Han dug around for his wallet. “I don’t have anything on me.”
Sean moaned softly and grabbed at Han’s hand, shoving two packets into the palm.
“Getting our drinks,” Han said, when his fingers closed around them.
“Yeah.” Sean wasn’t going to tolerate any delay it appeared, and hooked his hand around Han’s head to pull him back to the kiss, his tongue sweeping and tangling with Han’s in a bold move.
Wasting no time, Han turned them and eased Sean back to the hood, mouths still attached. He worked Sean’s t-shirt up his chest, fingers mapping their way up to brush over Sean’s nipples.
Sean’s response was perfect and Han plunged deeper in the kiss, forcing their groans into their chest. He worked Sean’s jeans and underwear down further, a shoe thumping to the ground to ease it off his foot.
Heat seized Han and he groaned, biting down on cotton and bone, scraping his teeth up Sean’s neck to suckle beneath the curve of his jaw. Needing nothing but touch to guide him, Han made quick use of the lube and condom.
Kissing to distract, fingers worked smoothly, expertly and patiently, his hips rocking gently against the curve of Sean’s thigh to keep himself stimulated until he felt Sean’s muscles relax enough.
“Breathe,” he murmured, tearing his mouth away and he shifted Sean’s legs up, placing one on the bumper and the other over his shoulder, “and bear down. It’ll be uncomfortable for a bit but your body will adjust. Do you trust me?”
Sean nodded, “I trust you,” and closed his eyes when Han nudged at his ass. He gripped Sean’s body to hold him and started the long slide in.
Sinking into heat and a tight grip that only virgins had, Han forced his breathing into a steady and even tempo. He lifted his head and looked up, eyes focusing but only barely on the lamp post; his attention on the light, the moths and insects, anything to keep him from thinking about Sean’s body and how blessed the tight fit sliding down over his cock felt.
Their bodies soon connected, flushed heat warming against his thighs and Han slid his gaze away and focused on Sean splayed out on the hood of his car. Han felt his groin sink and his balls tighten from the sight.
The muscles in Han’s jaw flexed and shifted. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Sean said and his voice sounded rough and low.
Han’s first pulses were slow and shallow, taking his time in building up his strokes. He kept a close eye on Sean’s face, waiting for that moment when the discomfort shifted to something pleasurable.
Then he saw it, a relaxing of Sean’s features and there was his tacit permission to move.
Slow and easy, building in intensity, but each stroke full, Han’s cock slipped, tip to root. Sean’s body milked him and the need to move seized like a deep itch that could never be satisfied. Han thrust on automatic, hips slapping at Sean’s ass as he plunged in.
Cascading within, Han felt something within himself break loose.
Things suddenly got more complicated. At the same time, it was easier than Han had ever felt. Sean fit him, and he, Sean, two parts complementing.
Coincidence, divine providence, luck…probably all at once and none of those. But there they were, and Han felt like he should have been there all along. If he had, things might be different.
Then Sean groaned, his hands moving restlessly over Han’s arms to pull him down, and their kisses - taken and given, needed and desired - as they rocked together. The paint job be damned, Han took Sean; took and rode him hard as their bodies collided.
Sean’s erection pressed between them, neglected but not for long. Han guided one of Sean’s hands and wrapped around it - his unspoken instruction.
Understanding, Sean pumped, his fist sliding over his cock. Han pulled away and curved his back to watch, making note of how Sean passed a thumb over the head or teased just at the ridge, watching and making note of how Sean liked to be touched.
It was awkward on the car and a part of Han wished they’d done this at his apartment.
Somehow…this seemed more fitting for the soft spoken southern boy. Sean was at home with cars, on the road, behind the wheel. He was not built for a life of marriage, kids, a 9-5 job and Han wanted desperately to shove Neela away, to take Sean and to run, to show him life on the road, living from race to race.
Too little too late, and Han realized that he should take what he could get, make do with it until it was time to take off for new pursuits and be happy with that.
Resting his head on Sean’s shoulder, his breathing turned to panting, matching the energy of his release as it surged from the soles of his feet in tingling waves. “Sean,” he gritted out, a warning he was close.
Sean’s hand gripped his neck and held him, body bucking beneath Han. “I’m gonna,” he said and his moan strangled into a grunt. Jerking, Sean lifted from the car, held in an arch to coat his stomach and hand with come, lashing out in white streaks.
The inevitable happened and the grip that sucked on his cock got tighter and dragged Han over the edge. He lifted on Sean’s hips and whip-corded upright for one final thrust into Sean’s body. Throbbing in his head matched his climax and Han’s hips stuttered until his balls were empty.
Falling forward, Han braced over Sean. He gained feeling in his body again to note his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back; a trickle of sweat slipping down his scalp. Sweat coated Sean’s forehead and darkened his hair. Salty and slick, Han bent to draw his tongue along the underside of Sean’s jaw and ending with a sated, unhurried kiss.
“Not bad, for my first time,” Sean drawled, offering Han a cheeky grin.
Han chuckled. “Like your drifting, it’ll get better with practice.”
Sean stared up at Han for what seemed a long time, his smile smoothing into something more contemplative. His fingers traced along Han’s hairline and combed through the damp strands. “You promise?”
“Your drifting is better.”
“Yeah.” And the smile was back. “How’s your headache?”
Surprisingly, when Han finally remembered to take notice, he found the headache was gone. “Better.”
“Figured. My mom always said headaches went away with sex.”
“That so?”
“Yeah.”
Reluctant to move, he still had no choice as he softened. Han lifted his hips and pulled out of Sean. One handed, he reached down and eased the condom off, pinching it closed and holding it to the side. Leaning down, Han kissed Sean again, taking his time to memorize every slick pass of their tongues, the heat from their mouths. “You always surprise me, Sean,” he said when he pushed up from the car.
“I’m predictable that way.”
*~*~*~*~*
Author: Jan toxictattoo
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2211
Summary: Between Han and Sean; a show of loyalty and trust.
A/N: Prompt: July 9: #20. Fast & the Furious: Tokyo Drift, Han/Sean - Show of loyalty - the warmth of the running engine, 1. Trust for lazy15 and the first of three for the prompt, song for writing_days.
A continuation in my developing fic-universe. Previous fics: Tandem and Dangerous Philosophy
*~*~*
Rubbing at his forehead, Han blinked and squeezed his eyes. His pounding headache was not helped by the blaring song on the radio. He reached over and switched it off.
Sean looked at the radio, looked at Han, then back to the radio and, smooth-as-you-please, reached over and turned it back on.
“I just turned that off.”
“I know,” Sean said, his southern accent drawling lazily. “And I turned it back on.”
With a flick of the wrist, Han switched it off again. “You need to concentrate and you can’t concentrate with the music causing your eardrums to bleed.”
A frown creased Sean’s forehead. “It ain’t no louder than at one of your parties.”
“And if we were at one of my parties, it wouldn’t bother me. You are behind the wheel of the car. Concentrate.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“You’re driving, aren’t you?” Han motioned to the parking lot once they were at the beginning of the course. “Pull off there.”
“What bee got in your bonnet?”
Han’s mouth opened and he felt a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue. He bit it off with a snap of his teeth. “Headache.”
“Aahhhh, gotcha.” Sean shut the car door and followed Han to the curb. “Why don’t you let me buy?”
“Sure. Coffee.”
Sean jogged toward the row of vending machines and scanned down to look for their drinks, glancing back at Han with a broad grin every so often.
It was hard not to be infected by that smile and in spite of his headache, Han smiled back.
He stretched his arms overhead and went to lean against his Mazda, turning his attention to the blanket of lights that extended out in the valley below them. A cold can touched to his arm brought Han back out of his thoughts.
“You’re a million miles away, Han. You okay?” Sean popped the tab to his drink and took several loud swallows before he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
“Yeah,” Han tapped at his temple and shrugged, taking the can from Sean.
They drank in companionable silence, a comfortable space for them that consistently settled like a cozy blanket every time they were together.
Sean Boswell was a young man of few words. He had attitude and the confidence to back it up. What he didn’t know, he, albeit reluctantly at times, would admit he didn’t know and could impress you with how quickly he picked it up.
It suited Han. It was one of the reasons why he liked Sean around.
Having done a run in the U.S. with Dominic at one time, Han got to know a little about Americans and some of the regions. The south of the U.S., rich with a history of gut and muscle and undying loyalty to the end, appealed to Han.
Now, it seemed the embodiment of The South was leaning on his car next to him.
“You are lost in thought again,” Sean said with a snicker.
Han grinned again and shook off his uneasiness. It still clung to his back, like an itch he couldn’t reach but he resolved he wouldn’t worry about things he couldn’t put a name to until they were staring him dead in the face. “I guess that means you were talking to me.”
“Well, I invited you to bend me over the hood of your car,” came the cheeky, sluggish reply. “I can’t imagine that’d be an invitation you’d just let go with nothing said.”
“You’re right about that.” Han’s eyebrow lifted. Since when had Sean become so observant? Not that it was any surprise. “So is that an invitation or were you just testing me?”
Sean drained his drink and ambled over to the recycling bin to dump the can in. “Maybe.”
“Why?” Han set his half-drunk can on the ground next to a tire and leaned back against his hood casually. “I figured you for the romantic sort, losing your cherry in a bed or something.”
“Me? Romantic?” Sean laughed. “I ain’t so sure about that.” His hands tucked into his front pockets, he strolled over to Han and stood in front of him. Gaze lowered, looking almost like the shy virgin Han accused him of being, he shrugged. Sean peered from beneath his thick lashes. “Maybe I kind of like it unconventional.”
“Unconventional,” Han repeated. His lips twisted to keep from chuckling, his attempt at a straight face a losing battle.
“Yeah. Or maybe, I just want it.”
“Just want it.” Now that was a little easier to believe. “Don’t you want to hold on until you and Neela can do something together? Sweet first times and all that?”
“Who says we ain’t, already?”
“I say.” Han rested a hand on Sean’s shoulder. He spread his legs and pulled Sean closer. “You aren’t the type of guy to take advantage like that without it meaning something.”
“Okay. Them how ‘bout I’m horny.”
“That, I believe.” And now with Sean standing so close, the bulge in his jeans prominent, Han was getting aroused, despite his headache. His hand slid up Sean’s neck to cup and he pulled again, their mouths touching. Tentative, light, licking, each swipe across lips a taste test before delving deeper.
Sean leaned into him and moaned softly into Han’s mouth when their cocks brushed. The sensation was electric and rocketed through his limbs at high speed, sending signals of flash and pulse to his dick. “Take your belt off. Don’t want to scratch my paint job.”
“Yeah yeah.”
Their hands fumbled around each other, working swiftly to push clothing out of the way and make sure nothing sharp would dig into the car’s finish. Han’s hands moved over the bared flesh in front of him, feverish to the touch.
For a car jockey, Sean was in pretty good shape. Firm muscles and tight-bodied, every muscle-shift registering to Han’s sensitive exploration.
It was when he pushed up from his lean and was ready to turn Sean around and bend him over the hood of the car, he realized they were missing something vital. He tore his mouth away. “Shit”, he murmured. Still with one hand on Sean’s body to keep him pulled flush, Han dug around for his wallet. “I don’t have anything on me.”
Sean moaned softly and grabbed at Han’s hand, shoving two packets into the palm.
“Getting our drinks,” Han said, when his fingers closed around them.
“Yeah.” Sean wasn’t going to tolerate any delay it appeared, and hooked his hand around Han’s head to pull him back to the kiss, his tongue sweeping and tangling with Han’s in a bold move.
Wasting no time, Han turned them and eased Sean back to the hood, mouths still attached. He worked Sean’s t-shirt up his chest, fingers mapping their way up to brush over Sean’s nipples.
Sean’s response was perfect and Han plunged deeper in the kiss, forcing their groans into their chest. He worked Sean’s jeans and underwear down further, a shoe thumping to the ground to ease it off his foot.
Heat seized Han and he groaned, biting down on cotton and bone, scraping his teeth up Sean’s neck to suckle beneath the curve of his jaw. Needing nothing but touch to guide him, Han made quick use of the lube and condom.
Kissing to distract, fingers worked smoothly, expertly and patiently, his hips rocking gently against the curve of Sean’s thigh to keep himself stimulated until he felt Sean’s muscles relax enough.
“Breathe,” he murmured, tearing his mouth away and he shifted Sean’s legs up, placing one on the bumper and the other over his shoulder, “and bear down. It’ll be uncomfortable for a bit but your body will adjust. Do you trust me?”
Sean nodded, “I trust you,” and closed his eyes when Han nudged at his ass. He gripped Sean’s body to hold him and started the long slide in.
Sinking into heat and a tight grip that only virgins had, Han forced his breathing into a steady and even tempo. He lifted his head and looked up, eyes focusing but only barely on the lamp post; his attention on the light, the moths and insects, anything to keep him from thinking about Sean’s body and how blessed the tight fit sliding down over his cock felt.
Their bodies soon connected, flushed heat warming against his thighs and Han slid his gaze away and focused on Sean splayed out on the hood of his car. Han felt his groin sink and his balls tighten from the sight.
The muscles in Han’s jaw flexed and shifted. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Sean said and his voice sounded rough and low.
Han’s first pulses were slow and shallow, taking his time in building up his strokes. He kept a close eye on Sean’s face, waiting for that moment when the discomfort shifted to something pleasurable.
Then he saw it, a relaxing of Sean’s features and there was his tacit permission to move.
Slow and easy, building in intensity, but each stroke full, Han’s cock slipped, tip to root. Sean’s body milked him and the need to move seized like a deep itch that could never be satisfied. Han thrust on automatic, hips slapping at Sean’s ass as he plunged in.
Cascading within, Han felt something within himself break loose.
Things suddenly got more complicated. At the same time, it was easier than Han had ever felt. Sean fit him, and he, Sean, two parts complementing.
Coincidence, divine providence, luck…probably all at once and none of those. But there they were, and Han felt like he should have been there all along. If he had, things might be different.
Then Sean groaned, his hands moving restlessly over Han’s arms to pull him down, and their kisses - taken and given, needed and desired - as they rocked together. The paint job be damned, Han took Sean; took and rode him hard as their bodies collided.
Sean’s erection pressed between them, neglected but not for long. Han guided one of Sean’s hands and wrapped around it - his unspoken instruction.
Understanding, Sean pumped, his fist sliding over his cock. Han pulled away and curved his back to watch, making note of how Sean passed a thumb over the head or teased just at the ridge, watching and making note of how Sean liked to be touched.
It was awkward on the car and a part of Han wished they’d done this at his apartment.
Somehow…this seemed more fitting for the soft spoken southern boy. Sean was at home with cars, on the road, behind the wheel. He was not built for a life of marriage, kids, a 9-5 job and Han wanted desperately to shove Neela away, to take Sean and to run, to show him life on the road, living from race to race.
Too little too late, and Han realized that he should take what he could get, make do with it until it was time to take off for new pursuits and be happy with that.
Resting his head on Sean’s shoulder, his breathing turned to panting, matching the energy of his release as it surged from the soles of his feet in tingling waves. “Sean,” he gritted out, a warning he was close.
Sean’s hand gripped his neck and held him, body bucking beneath Han. “I’m gonna,” he said and his moan strangled into a grunt. Jerking, Sean lifted from the car, held in an arch to coat his stomach and hand with come, lashing out in white streaks.
The inevitable happened and the grip that sucked on his cock got tighter and dragged Han over the edge. He lifted on Sean’s hips and whip-corded upright for one final thrust into Sean’s body. Throbbing in his head matched his climax and Han’s hips stuttered until his balls were empty.
Falling forward, Han braced over Sean. He gained feeling in his body again to note his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back; a trickle of sweat slipping down his scalp. Sweat coated Sean’s forehead and darkened his hair. Salty and slick, Han bent to draw his tongue along the underside of Sean’s jaw and ending with a sated, unhurried kiss.
“Not bad, for my first time,” Sean drawled, offering Han a cheeky grin.
Han chuckled. “Like your drifting, it’ll get better with practice.”
Sean stared up at Han for what seemed a long time, his smile smoothing into something more contemplative. His fingers traced along Han’s hairline and combed through the damp strands. “You promise?”
“Your drifting is better.”
“Yeah.” And the smile was back. “How’s your headache?”
Surprisingly, when Han finally remembered to take notice, he found the headache was gone. “Better.”
“Figured. My mom always said headaches went away with sex.”
“That so?”
“Yeah.”
Reluctant to move, he still had no choice as he softened. Han lifted his hips and pulled out of Sean. One handed, he reached down and eased the condom off, pinching it closed and holding it to the side. Leaning down, Han kissed Sean again, taking his time to memorize every slick pass of their tongues, the heat from their mouths. “You always surprise me, Sean,” he said when he pushed up from the car.
“I’m predictable that way.”
*~*~*~*~*