happy birthday, jin
For shatteredinu.
I wrote this under the influence of watermelon vodka, so it's kind of fucking bad. But it's porn. Thank you sanctified_x ♥ for letting me throw it in your face and everything lmao.
Title: Untitled
Pairing: Jin/Yamapi
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: Just porn, ho.
Warnings: [1255words] PWP, drunken writing.
Yamapi is kind of drunk. So is Jin.
It's Jin's birthday, so they don't really care.
"Happy birthday," Yamapi says, pressing the shot glass against his lips, smirking a little because Jin's cheeks are a little red - they’ve been challenging each other to shots to see who can last longer, so he think he’s going to win.
Jin knows its a bad game, and he's going to get trashed on his twenty-fourth birthday, but he can't help it anyway, so he's going to make the best of it while he can.
He smiles back, sharkishly, showing a bit of teeth as he leans over Yamapi, "I learnt from the best in LA, you know."
Yamapi tries to shove Jin off with his free hand but it's a little too late because Jin wraps his hands around Yamapi's and tips the glass, emptying its contents into Yamapi's open mouth - the tequila burns down his throat and Yamapi chokes slightly, barely able to recover before Jin has taken the glass from him and set it down on the table, before Jin’s hands are grabbing his hips, pushing him down into the couch, before Jin’s lips are on his. They are sweet and soft in contrast to the sharp tang of alcohol at the back of his mouth - he threads his fingers into Jin’s dark hair and moans shamelessly when the latter grinds his hips down onto him; they are both hard and they both feel it.
“Jin - “ Yamapi manages to gasp, barely, before Jin shoves a hand down his pants, involuntary arching as he palms him through his boxers. Jin’s breath is hot on Yamapi’s face, Yamapi’s neck, Yamapi’s collarbones as he trails kisses downwards, unbuttoning Yamapi’s shirt as his goes.
He only looks up when his hands comes to a rest on the belt buckle, meeting hard, black eyes - he knows that that is all the permission he needs to swiftly get rid of them, both the belt and Yamapi’s pants.
When Jin frees his erection from the restriction of his clothes, Yamapi drags Jin up for a harsh kiss by his hair. They both know how its going to be tonight - they are like that, never the same, always taking turns with no particular pattern, just going at their own pace, but on special occasions like this it’s more of a sure thing.
Yamapi can’t hold back a desperate groan when Jin takes him into his mouth, enveloping him in a warmth that sinks so deep into his nerves he has to slam his hand backwards into the couch to prevent him from thrusting upwards, arching away from the couch and choking Jin.
He always hums in pleasure when sucking Yamapi off, and it drives the latter crazy because of the satisfied look on his face he wears despite Yamapi’s fingers twisting tightly and domineeringly in his hair, dictating the pace. Jin does that thing with his tongue - sweeping his tongue along the underside of his cock and then swirling it tightly around his head, hollowing his cheeks as he uses his hand to cup Yamapi’s balls - and it drives him over the edge fast and hard, coming into Jin’s patient mouth with violent shudders.
Yamapi takes a moment to catch his breath before they are kissing as they roll off the couch and stumble towards the bedroom, tasting himself on Jin’s lips as he runs his tongue over and over, again and again over Jin’s teeth. He retrieves the necessary items from his bedside table as Jin sheds his remaining clothes, fusing their mouths again as they topple backwards onto the bed. Yamapi presses a foil packet into his hands, their sweaty skin sticking in the heat of the warm summer night, both of them making raw sounds in their throats as he rakes nails down Jin’s back.
“Hurry up,” Yamapi says, slightly taunting, raising his knees up provocatively as Jin rolls the condom over himself, slipping fingers into himself.
Jin has to bite his lip to hold back the sound that threatens to spill past his lips as he swats Yamapi’s hands away and pushes himself in, slowly - it is mind-blowingly tight, the sensations closing in on him so tightly he barely remembers to breath until Yamapi cries out, throwing his head back, the cords in his neck tense against his skin.
They hang there for what seems like an eternity until Yamapi digs his nails into the groove of Jin’s hip, impatient, horny as hell.
“Fuck, Jin, just move - ”
To his own surprise, Jin complies and thrusts up, the sharp movement driving all the air from Yamapi’s lungs in a twisted rush of breath, bending down to nip at the exposed groove of his throat. He savours the salty-sour edge of sweat on the tip of his tongue as he fucks Yamapi into the headboard, sheets dislodging under them.
He takes it hard and fast, eliciting yelps from the man underneath him, then he takes it slow and languid, lazy, causing Yamapi to cry out angrily and drag fingers down and across his collarbones. Jin shrieks and Yamapi growls as he flips them over, pinning down the birthday boy by his shoulders.
“Pi - what are you doing?”
It takes the breath out of him when Yamapi grabs his hands and shoves them into the soft pillows above his head, snapping his hips forward.
“Let me,” Yamapi hisses in his ear.
So he lets him(or maybe the alcohol does), relinquishing control and Yamapi takes him in to the hilt - it is suffocating, his insides stirring up a storm, but he only pushes back minimally against his restrained arms and lets the other man give - they rock together in a mismatched yet attuned rhythm of sorts.
Jin starts to lose it when Yamapi touches himself, jerking an unsteady hand over his own length - lips slightly parted with eyes fixed on Jin as he watches, reacting to the mans gasps and moans so he knows what makes Jin feel good so he can do it again and again, over and over.. When Yamapi takes his hand with his own and puts it firmly on himself, guiding him - Jin changes his angle slightly and thrusts up with increased intensity - sofuckinggood - Yamapi makes a strangled sound as he takes it, he takes it in, his hands gripping the sheets by Jin’s head now and he yanks at them for leverage.
“Are you close?” Jin’s breath catches in his throat when Yamapi shuts his eyes tightly, lashes framing the shadows falling onto his cheeks.
Yamapi rolls his hips a particular way and it sends something electric through the both of them, his voice is breathy, hoarse and strained as he retorts, “Just - shut up - ”
Jin comes first, his bottom lip quivering as he flings his head as far back possible into the sheets, hair wild and sticking to his face. Yamapi follows soon after, collapsing, body shaking, palms flat against the pale expanse of Jin’s broad chest, almost taking the remaining air out of him with his weight.
“You’re heavy, get off,” Jin grunts weakly at him, stars still etched into the back of his eyelids.
“Happy birthday,” Yamapi murmurs tiredly this time, soft lips smiling against Jin’s collarbones, causing him to squirm, never mind how many times he’s said those words already.
Together they are at first a strange soundless cacophony of pants and rushed air, then they are slow breaths as Yamapi rolls off Jin and spoons him from behind, nuzzling his nose into Jin’s hair as they fall asleep.
I wrote this under the influence of watermelon vodka, so it's kind of fucking bad. But it's porn. Thank you sanctified_x ♥ for letting me throw it in your face and everything lmao.
Title: Untitled
Pairing: Jin/Yamapi
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: Just porn, ho.
Warnings: [1255words] PWP, drunken writing.
Yamapi is kind of drunk. So is Jin.
It's Jin's birthday, so they don't really care.
"Happy birthday," Yamapi says, pressing the shot glass against his lips, smirking a little because Jin's cheeks are a little red - they’ve been challenging each other to shots to see who can last longer, so he think he’s going to win.
Jin knows its a bad game, and he's going to get trashed on his twenty-fourth birthday, but he can't help it anyway, so he's going to make the best of it while he can.
He smiles back, sharkishly, showing a bit of teeth as he leans over Yamapi, "I learnt from the best in LA, you know."
Yamapi tries to shove Jin off with his free hand but it's a little too late because Jin wraps his hands around Yamapi's and tips the glass, emptying its contents into Yamapi's open mouth - the tequila burns down his throat and Yamapi chokes slightly, barely able to recover before Jin has taken the glass from him and set it down on the table, before Jin’s hands are grabbing his hips, pushing him down into the couch, before Jin’s lips are on his. They are sweet and soft in contrast to the sharp tang of alcohol at the back of his mouth - he threads his fingers into Jin’s dark hair and moans shamelessly when the latter grinds his hips down onto him; they are both hard and they both feel it.
“Jin - “ Yamapi manages to gasp, barely, before Jin shoves a hand down his pants, involuntary arching as he palms him through his boxers. Jin’s breath is hot on Yamapi’s face, Yamapi’s neck, Yamapi’s collarbones as he trails kisses downwards, unbuttoning Yamapi’s shirt as his goes.
He only looks up when his hands comes to a rest on the belt buckle, meeting hard, black eyes - he knows that that is all the permission he needs to swiftly get rid of them, both the belt and Yamapi’s pants.
When Jin frees his erection from the restriction of his clothes, Yamapi drags Jin up for a harsh kiss by his hair. They both know how its going to be tonight - they are like that, never the same, always taking turns with no particular pattern, just going at their own pace, but on special occasions like this it’s more of a sure thing.
Yamapi can’t hold back a desperate groan when Jin takes him into his mouth, enveloping him in a warmth that sinks so deep into his nerves he has to slam his hand backwards into the couch to prevent him from thrusting upwards, arching away from the couch and choking Jin.
He always hums in pleasure when sucking Yamapi off, and it drives the latter crazy because of the satisfied look on his face he wears despite Yamapi’s fingers twisting tightly and domineeringly in his hair, dictating the pace. Jin does that thing with his tongue - sweeping his tongue along the underside of his cock and then swirling it tightly around his head, hollowing his cheeks as he uses his hand to cup Yamapi’s balls - and it drives him over the edge fast and hard, coming into Jin’s patient mouth with violent shudders.
Yamapi takes a moment to catch his breath before they are kissing as they roll off the couch and stumble towards the bedroom, tasting himself on Jin’s lips as he runs his tongue over and over, again and again over Jin’s teeth. He retrieves the necessary items from his bedside table as Jin sheds his remaining clothes, fusing their mouths again as they topple backwards onto the bed. Yamapi presses a foil packet into his hands, their sweaty skin sticking in the heat of the warm summer night, both of them making raw sounds in their throats as he rakes nails down Jin’s back.
“Hurry up,” Yamapi says, slightly taunting, raising his knees up provocatively as Jin rolls the condom over himself, slipping fingers into himself.
Jin has to bite his lip to hold back the sound that threatens to spill past his lips as he swats Yamapi’s hands away and pushes himself in, slowly - it is mind-blowingly tight, the sensations closing in on him so tightly he barely remembers to breath until Yamapi cries out, throwing his head back, the cords in his neck tense against his skin.
They hang there for what seems like an eternity until Yamapi digs his nails into the groove of Jin’s hip, impatient, horny as hell.
“Fuck, Jin, just move - ”
To his own surprise, Jin complies and thrusts up, the sharp movement driving all the air from Yamapi’s lungs in a twisted rush of breath, bending down to nip at the exposed groove of his throat. He savours the salty-sour edge of sweat on the tip of his tongue as he fucks Yamapi into the headboard, sheets dislodging under them.
He takes it hard and fast, eliciting yelps from the man underneath him, then he takes it slow and languid, lazy, causing Yamapi to cry out angrily and drag fingers down and across his collarbones. Jin shrieks and Yamapi growls as he flips them over, pinning down the birthday boy by his shoulders.
“Pi - what are you doing?”
It takes the breath out of him when Yamapi grabs his hands and shoves them into the soft pillows above his head, snapping his hips forward.
“Let me,” Yamapi hisses in his ear.
So he lets him(or maybe the alcohol does), relinquishing control and Yamapi takes him in to the hilt - it is suffocating, his insides stirring up a storm, but he only pushes back minimally against his restrained arms and lets the other man give - they rock together in a mismatched yet attuned rhythm of sorts.
Jin starts to lose it when Yamapi touches himself, jerking an unsteady hand over his own length - lips slightly parted with eyes fixed on Jin as he watches, reacting to the mans gasps and moans so he knows what makes Jin feel good so he can do it again and again, over and over.. When Yamapi takes his hand with his own and puts it firmly on himself, guiding him - Jin changes his angle slightly and thrusts up with increased intensity - sofuckinggood - Yamapi makes a strangled sound as he takes it, he takes it in, his hands gripping the sheets by Jin’s head now and he yanks at them for leverage.
“Are you close?” Jin’s breath catches in his throat when Yamapi shuts his eyes tightly, lashes framing the shadows falling onto his cheeks.
Yamapi rolls his hips a particular way and it sends something electric through the both of them, his voice is breathy, hoarse and strained as he retorts, “Just - shut up - ”
Jin comes first, his bottom lip quivering as he flings his head as far back possible into the sheets, hair wild and sticking to his face. Yamapi follows soon after, collapsing, body shaking, palms flat against the pale expanse of Jin’s broad chest, almost taking the remaining air out of him with his weight.
“You’re heavy, get off,” Jin grunts weakly at him, stars still etched into the back of his eyelids.
“Happy birthday,” Yamapi murmurs tiredly this time, soft lips smiling against Jin’s collarbones, causing him to squirm, never mind how many times he’s said those words already.
Together they are at first a strange soundless cacophony of pants and rushed air, then they are slow breaths as Yamapi rolls off Jin and spoons him from behind, nuzzling his nose into Jin’s hair as they fall asleep.