a time and place - JE - NC-17
Title: A Time and Place
Author: anamuan
Word Count: 664
Alternately written to pixisticks and ky_rin, depending on who was on when. pin have sex in a suitcase.
Jin took up the whole doorway, hands spread out on either side of the frame, just kind of filling the space with his presence as Yamapi packed his bag. Yamapi folded another (loud) shirt neatly, and put it in on top of a few pairs of jeans, three other shirts, and a few pairs of underwear. "You can stop lurking," he says, picking up the next shirt and folding it, "I still have to go, you know, whether you spend the entire time I'm packing pouting at me from the doorway.
"I'm not pouting," Jin said, but he stayed standing in the doorway (not helping) as the suitcase filled up slowly. Yamapi wasn't really surprised. Jin was a bit like a big puppy sometimes, lurking around the edges of a room being very present even though he knew he wasn't going to get any attention. At least Yamapi knew Jin would miss him.
Yamapi dusted himself off, more an unconscious gesture of accomplishment than anything actually having to do with dust, surveying the open and now full suitcase. Not bad, and probably under the weight limit. He was halfway up to his feet when Jin knocked him over backwards, into the suitcase, hands scrabbling clumsily on Yamapi's sides, half working under his t-shirt for skin and half just getting tangled in the cloth. Jin's mouth fumbled for the soft skin of Yamapi's throat, but his teeth scraped and his lips slid, and Yamapi shivered and his own hands came up to the back of Jin's head, and pulled his head up for a proper kiss.
Jin started making those needy little noises Yamapi loved so much almost instantly, and his fingers managed to creep up under the shirt afterall, fingertips skittering warm over Pi's skin and sending chills down his spine.
Pretty soon Yamapi's legs were wrapped around Jin's hips, and Jin was grinding down in a fast, sloppy rhythm while Yamapi thrust back up to match.
Yamapi started tugging at Jin's shirt, and that was it--Jin's hands a wild rush to get Yamapi out of his, their arms getting caught in the middle, tangled up in clothes and each other. Yamapi got Jin's off, and Jin got Yamapi's off most of the way before his hands were back all over his skin, letting Yamapi try to shake the t-shirt off his right hand by himself. Yamapi didn't feel the need to complain as long as Jin's hips didn't stop, and his mouth didn't move from right. there. on his neck.
"F-fuck-k-k-k," Yamapi stuttered out, blunt nails scraping down Jin's back and settling at the dip of his backbone, just above where his legs wrapped around Jin's hips. Jin hissed and arched into it, thrusts hard and fast and so fucking good that Yamapi's back tensed and his head snapped back and the feeling of Jin still moving against him had hot sparks shooting through his system. Jin bit Yamapi's shoulder when he came, and Yamapi's hips stuttered up against him again, physical reaction automatic and so far below the level of conscious thought that Yamapi hardly realized he was doing it, much less able to control it.
They lay like that, coming down, for a little while as the world slowly came back to them. Jin felt good, solid and heavy and warm on top of Yamapi, though Jin's skin was goose-pimpling around his hands, so he knew Jin was getting cold as the sweat cooled on his skin. Yamapi didn't think he wanted to move, except that the edge of the suitcase was digging into his legs and--crap, the suitcase! He flailed and shoved Jin off and scrabbled on his back for a moment, stuck like an upturned beetle, before he could clamber out and survey the damage.
"Dammit, Jin!" Yamapi swatted at Jin's shoulders, while Jin laughed on the floor next to him. He was going to be up all night repacking. And now he needed clean pants. Bastard.
Author: anamuan
Word Count: 664
Alternately written to pixisticks and ky_rin, depending on who was on when. pin have sex in a suitcase.
Jin took up the whole doorway, hands spread out on either side of the frame, just kind of filling the space with his presence as Yamapi packed his bag. Yamapi folded another (loud) shirt neatly, and put it in on top of a few pairs of jeans, three other shirts, and a few pairs of underwear. "You can stop lurking," he says, picking up the next shirt and folding it, "I still have to go, you know, whether you spend the entire time I'm packing pouting at me from the doorway.
"I'm not pouting," Jin said, but he stayed standing in the doorway (not helping) as the suitcase filled up slowly. Yamapi wasn't really surprised. Jin was a bit like a big puppy sometimes, lurking around the edges of a room being very present even though he knew he wasn't going to get any attention. At least Yamapi knew Jin would miss him.
Yamapi dusted himself off, more an unconscious gesture of accomplishment than anything actually having to do with dust, surveying the open and now full suitcase. Not bad, and probably under the weight limit. He was halfway up to his feet when Jin knocked him over backwards, into the suitcase, hands scrabbling clumsily on Yamapi's sides, half working under his t-shirt for skin and half just getting tangled in the cloth. Jin's mouth fumbled for the soft skin of Yamapi's throat, but his teeth scraped and his lips slid, and Yamapi shivered and his own hands came up to the back of Jin's head, and pulled his head up for a proper kiss.
Jin started making those needy little noises Yamapi loved so much almost instantly, and his fingers managed to creep up under the shirt afterall, fingertips skittering warm over Pi's skin and sending chills down his spine.
Pretty soon Yamapi's legs were wrapped around Jin's hips, and Jin was grinding down in a fast, sloppy rhythm while Yamapi thrust back up to match.
Yamapi started tugging at Jin's shirt, and that was it--Jin's hands a wild rush to get Yamapi out of his, their arms getting caught in the middle, tangled up in clothes and each other. Yamapi got Jin's off, and Jin got Yamapi's off most of the way before his hands were back all over his skin, letting Yamapi try to shake the t-shirt off his right hand by himself. Yamapi didn't feel the need to complain as long as Jin's hips didn't stop, and his mouth didn't move from right. there. on his neck.
"F-fuck-k-k-k," Yamapi stuttered out, blunt nails scraping down Jin's back and settling at the dip of his backbone, just above where his legs wrapped around Jin's hips. Jin hissed and arched into it, thrusts hard and fast and so fucking good that Yamapi's back tensed and his head snapped back and the feeling of Jin still moving against him had hot sparks shooting through his system. Jin bit Yamapi's shoulder when he came, and Yamapi's hips stuttered up against him again, physical reaction automatic and so far below the level of conscious thought that Yamapi hardly realized he was doing it, much less able to control it.
They lay like that, coming down, for a little while as the world slowly came back to them. Jin felt good, solid and heavy and warm on top of Yamapi, though Jin's skin was goose-pimpling around his hands, so he knew Jin was getting cold as the sweat cooled on his skin. Yamapi didn't think he wanted to move, except that the edge of the suitcase was digging into his legs and--crap, the suitcase! He flailed and shoved Jin off and scrabbled on his back for a moment, stuck like an upturned beetle, before he could clamber out and survey the damage.
"Dammit, Jin!" Yamapi swatted at Jin's shoulders, while Jin laughed on the floor next to him. He was going to be up all night repacking. And now he needed clean pants. Bastard.