Gift fic for honooko
To: honooko
From: ts_marked
SEASON'S GREETINGS!
Title Jealous? Moi?
Pairing/Group: Jun/Nino (one-sided) Ohmiya (one-sided)
Rating: R?
Warnings: Drunkenness and voyeurism and cocks.
Notes: I do hope this fulfills the brief somewhat. As a male, I should really be good at writing M/M smut. Sadly this doesn’t seem to be the case.
Summary: Jun wants Nino. Nino wants Ohno. Jun isn’t remotely jealous.
Nino was one of those unfortunate people who got bored very easily. Unless he had pressing matters to attend to, or, failing that, some form of games machine to hand, it would take him approximately two minutes to descend into a deep lethargic sulk that would last for as long as it took for the world to realise it was failing him, and provide him with further entertainment. And you would be being incredibly hopeful indeed if you were to think in a moment of madness that perhaps you could drag him out of his sulky mire and back to the ranks of humanity with your scintillating powers of conversation. It would take a subject of utter fascination to elicit more than a tired grunt from him in that state.
Well, at least, that was how Nino usually operated. Which is why it irritated Jun no end to watch Nino come to life every time Ohno hove into view, especially if he’d just spent painful minutes previously trying to rouse Nino’s interest with exciting tidbits from his clearly thoroughly exciting life, only to receive about as favourable a response from him as if he’d been a slightly pungent waft of flatulence drifting under his nose. Jun made no effort to hide the glare that darkened his features as this situation repeated itself this morning for what seemed the thousandth time in not very long at all. Jun had been holding forth on the plainly fascinating subject of multicoloured nail varnishes as they waited for the others to turn up for the filming, while Nino studiously ignored him from the comfort of the couch. He’d been just on the verge of giving in to his growing desire to start throwing various stationery at Nino’s disinterested form when Ohno walked in, and with lightning speed Nino made his infuriating transition from human sponge to lovesick limpet yet again, vanishing from the couch to appear instantaneously behind Ohno, arms wrapped tight around him like, well, like someone who really needed a slap (alright, that one wasn’t very descriptive, but it was bloody appropriate, and Jun was tired of thinking up metaphors).
Jun fumed silently as he watched Nino curl up next to Ohno on the couch, looking utterly content now instead of utterly bored, despite the negligible change in circumstances. I mean, come on, Jun thought, what on earth did Nino see in Ohno? Ohno was spacey, short, silent, and most definitely not remotely attractive, as opposed to the resplendent, internationally renowned sex-god he could and obviously should be spending his time talking to instead. Jun had never before failed to gain the attention of anyone that he desired, given his frankly stunning looks and easy charm, and it had gradually turned his thoughts on Nino from mild interest to something dangerously approaching obsession. And at some point down the line, Jun had become really rather keen on having sex with him. He’d considered just flat-out offering to suck him off, but that would constitute unacceptable damage to his pride. Jun much preferred to whip up his victims into such a frenzy of desire that they’d be begging him to satisfy them by the time he decided to relieve them. That was more like it. But even when he managed to get time alone with Nino, through luck or engineering, Jun could hardly get him to even recognise his existence.
The filming for their show passed relatively uneventfully for Jun, save for the mysteriously strong irritation he felt every time Nino inched closer to Ohno, or touched him (it wasn’t jealousy though of course, he wasn’t jealous at all - why would he be?), and the unfortunate way his mind kept wandering onto strange fantasies of boys and sweat and bedsheets at the most inconvenient times, leaving him having to squirm to make sure his increasingly obvious indicator of arousal wouldn’t be caught by the cameras. But after what seemed an interminable age of sitting around and pretending to be remotely enthused by the presence of a guest he didn’t know and Aiba’s moronic musings on whether it would be possible for them to fly to Korea on gliders, they were released.
Jun’s head hurt, and he was by now really rather feeling the need to go home and, um, release some tension. So Aiba of course had to suggest they all went out for a drink, and the rest of the group’s failure to register any objections within the following half-second meant that it was settled. So it was with a sense of inevitability that he eventually found himself slumping into a couch next to Aiba in the corner of some out of the way, and, it had to be said, rather poorly attended bar.
Jun was torn between the desire to sulk nobly and refuse to take part in the post-filming festivities, which would give him a good few hours to do some satisfying glaring at people, or to harness the miraculous power of alcohol to make you temporarily forget your troubles. If Jun looked back and considered it, he would probably feel somewhat disappointed by how quickly he plumped for the easy option. Especially as it was Ohno’s round first, because Ohno ordering his round first always meant they were in for a heavy night. Ohno did not go in for the concept of ‘measures’ of drinks, instead maintaining a strong belief in the benefits of filling the largest glass to hand to somewhere near the brim with the strongest drink available at the time. Within approximately half an hour therefore, Jun was nearing the horizontal position on the couch (Aiba appeared to have already achieved this, quite a feat for someone with his lanky legs), and his vision was beginning to approach the decidedly blurry. And with every sip he found himself resenting Nino more and more for not drinking with them, as usual, which meant Jun wouldn’t even get the chance to take advantage of alcohol’s ability to lower inhibitions to try anything on with him tonight. Nino’s permanent guard was up as strong as ever. For his part though, Nino seemed to be enjoying himself despite his teetotal evening, as he was taking full advantage of Ohno’s increased obliviousness (and let’s face it, he wasn’t exactly sharp to start with) and availing himself of the chance to get some proper heavy-duty groping done, while Ohno was more occupied with attempting to talk loud enough to hail passing cabs.
This rather unsatisfactory situation continued until, as he leaned over to explain something particularly vital to Sho for the tenth time, Ohno felt it necessary to support himself by placing his hand squarely on Nino’s crotch. This caused Jun’s eyebrows to raise a good inch as he watched Nino gulp and turn a vividly deep shade of red. Ohno, still entirely oblivious to the location of his hand, and to the fact Nino’s face now resembled a tomato, finished making his point to Sho and returned his attention to his drink. Nino squirmed, and still blushing furiously, extricated himself from his squashed position between Sho, Ohno, the table and the sofa, murmuring “Be back in a minute,”, disappearing in the direction of the toilets. Impressively quickly, given his rapidly strengthening alcoholic haze, Jun watched his faltering passage, and put two and two together to come up with a stirring in his loins.
“Uhm…I oughta go too,”, Jun said, and excused himself with what he felt was remarkable grace from his rather slumped position, with the effect only slightly spoilt when he suffered a minor collision with the table next to them. When he reached the door to the men’s toilets, however, he suddenly felt very stupid. His imagination was running away with him again, wasn’t it? There’s no chance Nino would be doing the dirty and exciting things that he’d imagined when he’d seen the colour rise in Nino’s face a moment ago. He’d just be taking a piss like, um, normal people. But after a moment’s pause he shrugged. At the very least, Jun thought, he might get to have a peek at his cock.
He opened the door silently and stepped inside. The room was empty, but the toilet cubicle was locked. Was Nino in there? His question was answered that moment when he heard a sharp intake of breath from behind the locked door. An involuntary shudder spread through Jun’s whole body at the unmistakeable sound, and his cock instantly raised itself by about 60 degrees. He just had to get a look at this. Head spinning slightly, Jun gingerly clambered onto the urinal next to the partition and hauled himself up, leaning on the partition wall so he could peer over it into the compromised privacy of the cubicle. Jun’s jaw dropped, his cock travelling the remainder of the distance to fully erect as he stared wide-eyed at the sight that presented itself to him. Nino was leaning back against the door of the cubicle, his face flushed and his pants around his ankles, pumping…oh god, pumping his rock-hard cock furiously. It took Jun a moment to quite believe what he was seeing, clarity only remotely entering his mind with the realisation that his own cock was now throbbing almost painfully. Pausing only momentarily to add another notch to his long mental tally of Times When Jun Was Right, he worked with surprising dexterity given his current condition to free his aching cock from its fabric shackles. It felt so hot in his hand it almost burned. Jun instantly started jerking his hand in time with Nino’s, at the stunning vision below him. He’d never wished so much that he had a photographic memory. He wanted to store this sight in his mind forever. Nino was gasping and panting desperately now, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and running down his cheeks, and Jun could already feel his balls tightening. So this is what it was like to truly desire someone, he thought. He just wasn’t in control anymore. He wouldn’t have remotely believed he’d ever find himself in a position like this, but everything else was being driven out of his head at the moment - how wrong this surely was, how devastating it would be if someone walked in and caught him like this, of if, god forbid, Nino noticed him. And most unusual of all, he didn’t even have the thought spare to resent the little brat for having a bigger cock than him.
Nino started to gasp then. “Ohno, Ohno…”.
But the sudden pangs of jealousy (damn, he had to admit it, now) that washed over him only seemed to get Jun even more aroused. He was so close now. But Nino was closer; he screwed his eyes up and flung his head back, mouth wide, emitting one final desperate gasp as he jerked his hips, shooting out his cum in great spurts. Fuck, this was the hottest thing Jun had ever seen, by miles, and he was so close to cumming too…
But at that moment, head still flung back, Nino opened his eyes. And stared straight into Jun’s.
Oops.
Jun had little time to register the stunned expression on Nino’s face, however, as in his shock, he slipped, cracking his elbow and his back full force on the porcelain of the urinal as he fell. He cried out in pain, seeing stars and blackness.
In the time it took for the pain to subside enough for coherent thought to return, Nino had cleaned himself up and emerged from the cubicle, and Jun found himself squinting up at the pained expression on his face.
“Nino, I…”
“Jun, you…”
The pair of them stammered helplessly, both at that moment caught in two minds about whether to go on the offensive or defensive about the matter. Just as Jun thought that perhaps he ought to at least address the situation from a more dignified position than collapsed in the corner, Nino flashed one last glare at him, turned on his heels, and left the room. Jun’s insides clenched as he cringed inwardly. Oh god, what had he done? Would Nino tell the others he’d been spying on him? Would Nino ever speak to him again? And worst of all, just what damage was this going to do to his pride?
And, damn it, he hadn’t even got to shoot his load.
…
Jun walked back from the toilets to the table with more apprehension than he’d ever felt in his life, far more than any concert or show he’d ever done. But apart from Nino failing to meet his eye when he returned, the situation seemed almost exactly the same as he’d left it. He squirmed for the next while, until the moment arrived when Aiba entirely failed to replace his glass on the table, spilling its contents over the floor, at which point it was unanimously decided that it was time to leave.
As they all staggered with varying degrees of steadiness towards the exit, Jun knew what he had to do. He sidled up to Nino with a sense of inevitability. However awkward he felt now, it would only get worse if he left the situation like this.
“Nino, I’m…I’m really…I didn’t mean…”, he pleaded feebly under his breath.
Nino looked at him, his expression unreadable.
“Well,” he said. “Next time, you could at least offer to help me out.”
Jun stared wide-eyed at him. And walked straight into a table.
…
The end. For now.
From: ts_marked
SEASON'S GREETINGS!
Title Jealous? Moi?
Pairing/Group: Jun/Nino (one-sided) Ohmiya (one-sided)
Rating: R?
Warnings: Drunkenness and voyeurism and cocks.
Notes: I do hope this fulfills the brief somewhat. As a male, I should really be good at writing M/M smut. Sadly this doesn’t seem to be the case.
Summary: Jun wants Nino. Nino wants Ohno. Jun isn’t remotely jealous.
Nino was one of those unfortunate people who got bored very easily. Unless he had pressing matters to attend to, or, failing that, some form of games machine to hand, it would take him approximately two minutes to descend into a deep lethargic sulk that would last for as long as it took for the world to realise it was failing him, and provide him with further entertainment. And you would be being incredibly hopeful indeed if you were to think in a moment of madness that perhaps you could drag him out of his sulky mire and back to the ranks of humanity with your scintillating powers of conversation. It would take a subject of utter fascination to elicit more than a tired grunt from him in that state.
Well, at least, that was how Nino usually operated. Which is why it irritated Jun no end to watch Nino come to life every time Ohno hove into view, especially if he’d just spent painful minutes previously trying to rouse Nino’s interest with exciting tidbits from his clearly thoroughly exciting life, only to receive about as favourable a response from him as if he’d been a slightly pungent waft of flatulence drifting under his nose. Jun made no effort to hide the glare that darkened his features as this situation repeated itself this morning for what seemed the thousandth time in not very long at all. Jun had been holding forth on the plainly fascinating subject of multicoloured nail varnishes as they waited for the others to turn up for the filming, while Nino studiously ignored him from the comfort of the couch. He’d been just on the verge of giving in to his growing desire to start throwing various stationery at Nino’s disinterested form when Ohno walked in, and with lightning speed Nino made his infuriating transition from human sponge to lovesick limpet yet again, vanishing from the couch to appear instantaneously behind Ohno, arms wrapped tight around him like, well, like someone who really needed a slap (alright, that one wasn’t very descriptive, but it was bloody appropriate, and Jun was tired of thinking up metaphors).
Jun fumed silently as he watched Nino curl up next to Ohno on the couch, looking utterly content now instead of utterly bored, despite the negligible change in circumstances. I mean, come on, Jun thought, what on earth did Nino see in Ohno? Ohno was spacey, short, silent, and most definitely not remotely attractive, as opposed to the resplendent, internationally renowned sex-god he could and obviously should be spending his time talking to instead. Jun had never before failed to gain the attention of anyone that he desired, given his frankly stunning looks and easy charm, and it had gradually turned his thoughts on Nino from mild interest to something dangerously approaching obsession. And at some point down the line, Jun had become really rather keen on having sex with him. He’d considered just flat-out offering to suck him off, but that would constitute unacceptable damage to his pride. Jun much preferred to whip up his victims into such a frenzy of desire that they’d be begging him to satisfy them by the time he decided to relieve them. That was more like it. But even when he managed to get time alone with Nino, through luck or engineering, Jun could hardly get him to even recognise his existence.
The filming for their show passed relatively uneventfully for Jun, save for the mysteriously strong irritation he felt every time Nino inched closer to Ohno, or touched him (it wasn’t jealousy though of course, he wasn’t jealous at all - why would he be?), and the unfortunate way his mind kept wandering onto strange fantasies of boys and sweat and bedsheets at the most inconvenient times, leaving him having to squirm to make sure his increasingly obvious indicator of arousal wouldn’t be caught by the cameras. But after what seemed an interminable age of sitting around and pretending to be remotely enthused by the presence of a guest he didn’t know and Aiba’s moronic musings on whether it would be possible for them to fly to Korea on gliders, they were released.
Jun’s head hurt, and he was by now really rather feeling the need to go home and, um, release some tension. So Aiba of course had to suggest they all went out for a drink, and the rest of the group’s failure to register any objections within the following half-second meant that it was settled. So it was with a sense of inevitability that he eventually found himself slumping into a couch next to Aiba in the corner of some out of the way, and, it had to be said, rather poorly attended bar.
Jun was torn between the desire to sulk nobly and refuse to take part in the post-filming festivities, which would give him a good few hours to do some satisfying glaring at people, or to harness the miraculous power of alcohol to make you temporarily forget your troubles. If Jun looked back and considered it, he would probably feel somewhat disappointed by how quickly he plumped for the easy option. Especially as it was Ohno’s round first, because Ohno ordering his round first always meant they were in for a heavy night. Ohno did not go in for the concept of ‘measures’ of drinks, instead maintaining a strong belief in the benefits of filling the largest glass to hand to somewhere near the brim with the strongest drink available at the time. Within approximately half an hour therefore, Jun was nearing the horizontal position on the couch (Aiba appeared to have already achieved this, quite a feat for someone with his lanky legs), and his vision was beginning to approach the decidedly blurry. And with every sip he found himself resenting Nino more and more for not drinking with them, as usual, which meant Jun wouldn’t even get the chance to take advantage of alcohol’s ability to lower inhibitions to try anything on with him tonight. Nino’s permanent guard was up as strong as ever. For his part though, Nino seemed to be enjoying himself despite his teetotal evening, as he was taking full advantage of Ohno’s increased obliviousness (and let’s face it, he wasn’t exactly sharp to start with) and availing himself of the chance to get some proper heavy-duty groping done, while Ohno was more occupied with attempting to talk loud enough to hail passing cabs.
This rather unsatisfactory situation continued until, as he leaned over to explain something particularly vital to Sho for the tenth time, Ohno felt it necessary to support himself by placing his hand squarely on Nino’s crotch. This caused Jun’s eyebrows to raise a good inch as he watched Nino gulp and turn a vividly deep shade of red. Ohno, still entirely oblivious to the location of his hand, and to the fact Nino’s face now resembled a tomato, finished making his point to Sho and returned his attention to his drink. Nino squirmed, and still blushing furiously, extricated himself from his squashed position between Sho, Ohno, the table and the sofa, murmuring “Be back in a minute,”, disappearing in the direction of the toilets. Impressively quickly, given his rapidly strengthening alcoholic haze, Jun watched his faltering passage, and put two and two together to come up with a stirring in his loins.
“Uhm…I oughta go too,”, Jun said, and excused himself with what he felt was remarkable grace from his rather slumped position, with the effect only slightly spoilt when he suffered a minor collision with the table next to them. When he reached the door to the men’s toilets, however, he suddenly felt very stupid. His imagination was running away with him again, wasn’t it? There’s no chance Nino would be doing the dirty and exciting things that he’d imagined when he’d seen the colour rise in Nino’s face a moment ago. He’d just be taking a piss like, um, normal people. But after a moment’s pause he shrugged. At the very least, Jun thought, he might get to have a peek at his cock.
He opened the door silently and stepped inside. The room was empty, but the toilet cubicle was locked. Was Nino in there? His question was answered that moment when he heard a sharp intake of breath from behind the locked door. An involuntary shudder spread through Jun’s whole body at the unmistakeable sound, and his cock instantly raised itself by about 60 degrees. He just had to get a look at this. Head spinning slightly, Jun gingerly clambered onto the urinal next to the partition and hauled himself up, leaning on the partition wall so he could peer over it into the compromised privacy of the cubicle. Jun’s jaw dropped, his cock travelling the remainder of the distance to fully erect as he stared wide-eyed at the sight that presented itself to him. Nino was leaning back against the door of the cubicle, his face flushed and his pants around his ankles, pumping…oh god, pumping his rock-hard cock furiously. It took Jun a moment to quite believe what he was seeing, clarity only remotely entering his mind with the realisation that his own cock was now throbbing almost painfully. Pausing only momentarily to add another notch to his long mental tally of Times When Jun Was Right, he worked with surprising dexterity given his current condition to free his aching cock from its fabric shackles. It felt so hot in his hand it almost burned. Jun instantly started jerking his hand in time with Nino’s, at the stunning vision below him. He’d never wished so much that he had a photographic memory. He wanted to store this sight in his mind forever. Nino was gasping and panting desperately now, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and running down his cheeks, and Jun could already feel his balls tightening. So this is what it was like to truly desire someone, he thought. He just wasn’t in control anymore. He wouldn’t have remotely believed he’d ever find himself in a position like this, but everything else was being driven out of his head at the moment - how wrong this surely was, how devastating it would be if someone walked in and caught him like this, of if, god forbid, Nino noticed him. And most unusual of all, he didn’t even have the thought spare to resent the little brat for having a bigger cock than him.
Nino started to gasp then. “Ohno, Ohno…”.
But the sudden pangs of jealousy (damn, he had to admit it, now) that washed over him only seemed to get Jun even more aroused. He was so close now. But Nino was closer; he screwed his eyes up and flung his head back, mouth wide, emitting one final desperate gasp as he jerked his hips, shooting out his cum in great spurts. Fuck, this was the hottest thing Jun had ever seen, by miles, and he was so close to cumming too…
But at that moment, head still flung back, Nino opened his eyes. And stared straight into Jun’s.
Oops.
Jun had little time to register the stunned expression on Nino’s face, however, as in his shock, he slipped, cracking his elbow and his back full force on the porcelain of the urinal as he fell. He cried out in pain, seeing stars and blackness.
In the time it took for the pain to subside enough for coherent thought to return, Nino had cleaned himself up and emerged from the cubicle, and Jun found himself squinting up at the pained expression on his face.
“Nino, I…”
“Jun, you…”
The pair of them stammered helplessly, both at that moment caught in two minds about whether to go on the offensive or defensive about the matter. Just as Jun thought that perhaps he ought to at least address the situation from a more dignified position than collapsed in the corner, Nino flashed one last glare at him, turned on his heels, and left the room. Jun’s insides clenched as he cringed inwardly. Oh god, what had he done? Would Nino tell the others he’d been spying on him? Would Nino ever speak to him again? And worst of all, just what damage was this going to do to his pride?
And, damn it, he hadn’t even got to shoot his load.
…
Jun walked back from the toilets to the table with more apprehension than he’d ever felt in his life, far more than any concert or show he’d ever done. But apart from Nino failing to meet his eye when he returned, the situation seemed almost exactly the same as he’d left it. He squirmed for the next while, until the moment arrived when Aiba entirely failed to replace his glass on the table, spilling its contents over the floor, at which point it was unanimously decided that it was time to leave.
As they all staggered with varying degrees of steadiness towards the exit, Jun knew what he had to do. He sidled up to Nino with a sense of inevitability. However awkward he felt now, it would only get worse if he left the situation like this.
“Nino, I’m…I’m really…I didn’t mean…”, he pleaded feebly under his breath.
Nino looked at him, his expression unreadable.
“Well,” he said. “Next time, you could at least offer to help me out.”
Jun stared wide-eyed at him. And walked straight into a table.
…
The end. For now.