[Pippa] rock you like a hurricane
rock you like a hurricane
nc-17 for porn (and alcohol?) Ueda/Jin
Thank you Amy for the once-over! ♥ Title taken from the Scorpions' song of the same name.
Instead of supple, yielding flesh beneath his fingertips, there is muscle, hard muscle, tense to the touch yet irresistible just the same. As they fall onto the bed there is silk-covered steel pressed up against him and Jin moans, grinding against the other man before he can even pretend to be cool. His skin burns; face red, skin heated, a flash of pain muffled by hot, hot, wet, hot, suction on his collarbone oh god, and Jin turns his face to the side because even though it's dark, he doesn't want anyone else to see. Clothes may as well disintegrate, they disappear onto the dark floor in a blink, but the room is warm and the sheets are soft and all Jin can do is feel, feel.
The lube is cool but feels cold, shocking against his fiery skin before there is movement, pressure, and suddenly it begins to warm, down the crack of his ass and inside him, the other man's fingers stretching and probing and stroking while his thumb rubs small circles just under his hipbone. There is hot breath on his cock and Jin feels himself twitch moments before that hot breath becomes a hot mouth, and the thumb on his hip presses down the merest amount as Jin arches his back and pushes his head against the pillow, as though he can sink into their softness.
He whines as the pressure becomes too great (hurry up, I don't wanna come like this, come on, fuck me already) and there's a low laugh, genuine amusement that would irritate Jin ordinarily, but not now, not when (ahh, more) there is the sharp stretchburnpain of hard flesh pushing inside him and for a moment the haze clears and Jin feels, feels, and cries out. A hard, strong hand grips his for a moment and the discomfort subsides, and then Jin rolls his hips ever so slightly (come on, it's okay) but the hand stays, fingers linked until the rhythm becomes too distracting and their grip breaks.
Untiring, ceaseless, Jin feels as though the rhythm of the other man slamming against him is the only thing keeping his heartbeat going, it's a blur of sensation and the world spins faster as his voice soars out into the dark. It's Jin's own hand that wraps around his cock, but it's his hand that puts it there, guiding Jin's movements, fingertips brushing against Jin's heated skin infrequently enough that when it does happen Jin's breath catches in his throat and flames race up and down underneath his skin.
When Jin comes, it's with a choked cry that tears through his throat and hands that grip the sheets so tightly that his knuckles creak. He doesn't notice that the other man has reached orgasm until he feels spatters of come flick across his skin, but he is too dazed even to grimace. The bed shifts, and moments later a warm, damp cloth is wiped over Jin's stomach and Jin feels around for the edge of the blankets so that he can be comfortable as he fall asleep. He doesn't remember anything after that.
~
When Jin wakes up late the following morning, the apartment is empty but his head is full of cotton wool and snatches of half-remembrances that break as soon as he reaches for them. He is going to be late, so he forgoes coffee and washes his tired face with cold water, ignoring his reflection as he brushes his teeth and tries to focus on the day ahead.
He frowns when he sees Ueda at the studio for one of their monthly photo shoots, but like the other man, Jin's eyes are hidden behind dark glasses and all that can be seen is the tightening of his lips and a crease in his forehead, and nobody queries it. Ueda's head is turned ever so slightly down and away, usually a sign that the real world is tuned out in favour of his own thoughts.
Two double-shot coffees later and Jin has finished making himself look presentable. He stands and gives a half-bow as the assistant knocks on the door (could Akanishi-san please come through?) and as he steps out into the corridor Ueda is walking the other way. Jin's hand automatically reaches out to touch Ueda's arm before he is conscious of movement, and Ueda pauses, regarding him quizzically. (What do you want?)
"It… was it you?" Jin's voice sounds slightly hoarse, even to his own ears.
Ueda's reaction is half-expected, half-not: he laughs. It has an edge to it that Jin can't identify, can't even read on his face because Ueda's eyes are hidden behind dark lenses. "See you later, Akanishi."
The assistant is hovering anxiously, a few feet away. They're on a schedule. Jin lets his hand drop, nods slightly, and walks on.
They bring up LA again (fucking LA a-fucking-gain) in the interview, and as the hot, white lights framing the shoot area make Jin sweat, he thinks about butterflies. What was it that Nakamaru had said? Some theory or something, about a butterfly in one place and a tornado somewhere else. Or a tsunami, or a typhoon. Jin can't remember the details, forgets them again as the eye in the camera blinks, blinks, and the pictures flash up onto the computer screen. (Thank you for your hard work, bow, bow, exit stage left.)
~
It's raining when Jin steps out of the studio and he squints up at the pale grey sky as he waits for the car to come and take him off, blinking as droplets of rain sneak past his sunglasses and splash onto his eyelashes. He considers what to do between now and the next appointment (sleep? eat? call Pi? call Mom?) but then the car crawls to a still, wheels making a skrisshh on the wet asphalt. Jin ducks his head as he gets into the back, and a noise of surprise passes his lips as he sees the other man already in the back.
"I thought we were taking different cars," Jin comments, and Ueda nods with a half-shrug. (Well then, I guess we're not.)
There is a pause as Jin settles in and the driver steers the car out of the parking lot.
The silence, unlike normal, is bordering on uncomfortable. Jin wonders if it's just him who can feel the air between them thrumming, as tense as wire. He stares at the back of the headrest in front of him, instead of at the other man.
"Will you be there again, tonight?"
He can see Ueda shake his head out of the corner of his eye, and he turns, frowning, seeking clarification.
"You won't be there either, I don't think."
(Don't tell me what I 'will' or 'won't' do.) "Oh?"
Ueda wipes his hand on the window, clearing the condensation enough for him to look out onto the grey streets. Jin sees Ueda's lips part, his breath making little puffs on the cold glass as he looks out.
(You're so fucking awkward, Tatsuya.) "What will I be doing, then?"
Ueda turns back then, and grins. "I bought too much food."
Years of non-sequiturs make it easy for Jin to follow Ueda's train of thought. "So I need to help you eat it?" His lips twitch with amusement as Ueda laughs, and Jin wonders how this person is the same as the one from the night before, but he is, they are.
"Do you remember what Nakamaru said that time, about butterflies and hurricanes?" Jin asks suddenly, wants to know if it was just him.
Ueda's gaze is neutral behind his dark glasses. "No. I don't remember."
"Oh." But that's okay. That's okay.
::end::
nc-17 for porn (and alcohol?) Ueda/Jin
Thank you Amy for the once-over! ♥ Title taken from the Scorpions' song of the same name.
Instead of supple, yielding flesh beneath his fingertips, there is muscle, hard muscle, tense to the touch yet irresistible just the same. As they fall onto the bed there is silk-covered steel pressed up against him and Jin moans, grinding against the other man before he can even pretend to be cool. His skin burns; face red, skin heated, a flash of pain muffled by hot, hot, wet, hot, suction on his collarbone oh god, and Jin turns his face to the side because even though it's dark, he doesn't want anyone else to see. Clothes may as well disintegrate, they disappear onto the dark floor in a blink, but the room is warm and the sheets are soft and all Jin can do is feel, feel.
The lube is cool but feels cold, shocking against his fiery skin before there is movement, pressure, and suddenly it begins to warm, down the crack of his ass and inside him, the other man's fingers stretching and probing and stroking while his thumb rubs small circles just under his hipbone. There is hot breath on his cock and Jin feels himself twitch moments before that hot breath becomes a hot mouth, and the thumb on his hip presses down the merest amount as Jin arches his back and pushes his head against the pillow, as though he can sink into their softness.
He whines as the pressure becomes too great (hurry up, I don't wanna come like this, come on, fuck me already) and there's a low laugh, genuine amusement that would irritate Jin ordinarily, but not now, not when (ahh, more) there is the sharp stretchburnpain of hard flesh pushing inside him and for a moment the haze clears and Jin feels, feels, and cries out. A hard, strong hand grips his for a moment and the discomfort subsides, and then Jin rolls his hips ever so slightly (come on, it's okay) but the hand stays, fingers linked until the rhythm becomes too distracting and their grip breaks.
Untiring, ceaseless, Jin feels as though the rhythm of the other man slamming against him is the only thing keeping his heartbeat going, it's a blur of sensation and the world spins faster as his voice soars out into the dark. It's Jin's own hand that wraps around his cock, but it's his hand that puts it there, guiding Jin's movements, fingertips brushing against Jin's heated skin infrequently enough that when it does happen Jin's breath catches in his throat and flames race up and down underneath his skin.
When Jin comes, it's with a choked cry that tears through his throat and hands that grip the sheets so tightly that his knuckles creak. He doesn't notice that the other man has reached orgasm until he feels spatters of come flick across his skin, but he is too dazed even to grimace. The bed shifts, and moments later a warm, damp cloth is wiped over Jin's stomach and Jin feels around for the edge of the blankets so that he can be comfortable as he fall asleep. He doesn't remember anything after that.
~
When Jin wakes up late the following morning, the apartment is empty but his head is full of cotton wool and snatches of half-remembrances that break as soon as he reaches for them. He is going to be late, so he forgoes coffee and washes his tired face with cold water, ignoring his reflection as he brushes his teeth and tries to focus on the day ahead.
He frowns when he sees Ueda at the studio for one of their monthly photo shoots, but like the other man, Jin's eyes are hidden behind dark glasses and all that can be seen is the tightening of his lips and a crease in his forehead, and nobody queries it. Ueda's head is turned ever so slightly down and away, usually a sign that the real world is tuned out in favour of his own thoughts.
Two double-shot coffees later and Jin has finished making himself look presentable. He stands and gives a half-bow as the assistant knocks on the door (could Akanishi-san please come through?) and as he steps out into the corridor Ueda is walking the other way. Jin's hand automatically reaches out to touch Ueda's arm before he is conscious of movement, and Ueda pauses, regarding him quizzically. (What do you want?)
"It… was it you?" Jin's voice sounds slightly hoarse, even to his own ears.
Ueda's reaction is half-expected, half-not: he laughs. It has an edge to it that Jin can't identify, can't even read on his face because Ueda's eyes are hidden behind dark lenses. "See you later, Akanishi."
The assistant is hovering anxiously, a few feet away. They're on a schedule. Jin lets his hand drop, nods slightly, and walks on.
They bring up LA again (fucking LA a-fucking-gain) in the interview, and as the hot, white lights framing the shoot area make Jin sweat, he thinks about butterflies. What was it that Nakamaru had said? Some theory or something, about a butterfly in one place and a tornado somewhere else. Or a tsunami, or a typhoon. Jin can't remember the details, forgets them again as the eye in the camera blinks, blinks, and the pictures flash up onto the computer screen. (Thank you for your hard work, bow, bow, exit stage left.)
~
It's raining when Jin steps out of the studio and he squints up at the pale grey sky as he waits for the car to come and take him off, blinking as droplets of rain sneak past his sunglasses and splash onto his eyelashes. He considers what to do between now and the next appointment (sleep? eat? call Pi? call Mom?) but then the car crawls to a still, wheels making a skrisshh on the wet asphalt. Jin ducks his head as he gets into the back, and a noise of surprise passes his lips as he sees the other man already in the back.
"I thought we were taking different cars," Jin comments, and Ueda nods with a half-shrug. (Well then, I guess we're not.)
There is a pause as Jin settles in and the driver steers the car out of the parking lot.
The silence, unlike normal, is bordering on uncomfortable. Jin wonders if it's just him who can feel the air between them thrumming, as tense as wire. He stares at the back of the headrest in front of him, instead of at the other man.
"Will you be there again, tonight?"
He can see Ueda shake his head out of the corner of his eye, and he turns, frowning, seeking clarification.
"You won't be there either, I don't think."
(Don't tell me what I 'will' or 'won't' do.) "Oh?"
Ueda wipes his hand on the window, clearing the condensation enough for him to look out onto the grey streets. Jin sees Ueda's lips part, his breath making little puffs on the cold glass as he looks out.
(You're so fucking awkward, Tatsuya.) "What will I be doing, then?"
Ueda turns back then, and grins. "I bought too much food."
Years of non-sequiturs make it easy for Jin to follow Ueda's train of thought. "So I need to help you eat it?" His lips twitch with amusement as Ueda laughs, and Jin wonders how this person is the same as the one from the night before, but he is, they are.
"Do you remember what Nakamaru said that time, about butterflies and hurricanes?" Jin asks suddenly, wants to know if it was just him.
Ueda's gaze is neutral behind his dark glasses. "No. I don't remember."
"Oh." But that's okay. That's okay.
::end::