dump #02: porn
title. dump #02: porn
pairing. akame (je)
rating. nc-17
summary. look. really.
author's note. wintersjuly did a meme a while ago (july-ish--HAHA GET IT? sorry.) where everyone just wrote anonymous fic. i did too. and no one should be surprised that i wrote four things, all akame, and all porn. there are turtles and closets and cameras and chairs. ...and they were probably written at latteswith's request since she is insatiable. :| on another note, this is pure pwp smut (as if the title weren't an indication). which is usually written at 3 or 4 in the morning when i'm too tired to go to bed (but that doesn't make se-exactly).
word count. 02230
i. my little turtle
Kame doesn't remember the events leading up to this point, doesn't recognize the firmness of the bed, the color of the walls, or the press of the other's body against his own.
But it feels so good and it feels so right and Jin's body is hot, hair brushing against Kame's fiery skin and full pink lips gliding over his neck, voice whispering desperate words that Kame doesn't understand and hand fisting in his hair.
"Jin," he gasps, the other's body covering his own, lips pressing tiny kisses up his neck and along his jaw line, teeth nibbling at the corner of his mouth and his thin bottom lip, tongue coaxing its way inside. And Jin is good at everything physical, Kame decides, lets a moan escape from deep in his throat as Jin presses closer, fingers grasping his hair tighter and pulling, just a little so he feels it on his scalp, and Jin's other hand is wrapping around his length and pulling slowly, surely, heavily.
"Jin," he breathes, when the other pulls away, and Kame can see his eyes, dark and full of lust, and he arches his hips up (because the friction that Jin provides isn't good enough, is too slow and too teasing) and protests when Jin just laughs.
"Do you like this?" Jin mumbles against his lips, stops his motions.
"What?" Kame gasps.
"Do you like this, Kame?" Jin says pointedly, and Kame is horrified to see a baby turtle scuttle toward them from the bottom edge of the bed.
"Jin?" He asks, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to move out of the way so that animal doesn't crawl over his leg. "What the-"
"Kame?"
"Ji-"
"Kame? Kame? Kame? Kame?-" Every time Jin says Kame's name, another turtle appears.
When Kame finally wakes up, he's clawing at the sheets because he'd been buried naked in turtles and couldn't breathe.
He really hates himself.
ii. kame would bet money that on not being able to fit inside a closet with that jin fatty.
Kame is one hundred percent sure that as slim as he is, he can't fit into a closet with Jin. But then the other comes up behind him, presses his body against his back and rests his chin on his shoulder. Two arms wrap languidly around his waist and there's a breathy "Kame" before he feels sharp teeth on his left ear and two thumbs resting beneath the waistline of his jeans.
Logic is the last thing on his mind when things like this happen, and Kame suddenly decides that Jin can't possibly be that fat, and they'd better find that closet before Ryo finds them and takes pictures, threatens to sell them to the tabloids (that asshole).
"You said we'd never have sex in a closet," Jin says, sounds confused when Kame slams the door shut, pushes his body against the door and covers his mouth with his own.
"We're not having sex," Kame breathes, bites at Jin's pouty lips and fists a hand in his hair. "We're making out," he says, and Jin would whine about Kame getting all technical if there weren't a tongue in his mouth and a hand up his shirt.
A hand up his shirt. Jin moans low in his throat, presses his hips against Kame's and feels the other move against him. Just like that, the friction of denim on denim and there's no way that Kame wears anything underneath with jeans as tight as that. "Kame," Jin says, gasps for air, the other's hands roaming up his shirt and fingers drawing light patterns across his chest.
"Jin," Kame replies, and as Jin adjusts to the darkness, he can see the smirk on the other's face. "Jin," he says breathily, and Jin leans down to press his lips to the side of Kame's neck, to lick and suck and bite.
Jin can feel the moans in Kame's throat, can feel the other move his hands from his chest to his hair and pull him impossibly closer. He moves his own hand in between their bodies, blindly unbuckles Kame's belt, quickly unbuttons and unzips and slips his hand around Kame's hardening length.
Kame hisses, one hand tightening in Jin's hair as the other moves between them to reciprocate the action. He deftly guides Jin's larger hand so that it holds both of their lengths.
"Oh shit," Jin says, pulls his mouth from Kame's neck and leans back against the door, exposes the sleek line of his neck and Kame can't keep his mouth away.
"Move," Kame mumbles against his skin, pushes against him and thrusts up. "God, move," he hisses, and strangled moans and quick gasps spill from their mouths as Jin moves slowly, takes his time.
"Like this?" Jin asks, and there's a smirk in his voice.
"I'll bite you if you don't hurry up. You'll sleep on the couch for a month," Kame threatens, crushes their lips together and presses his tongue between Jin's lips. The other obliges, hand movingly slickly up and down their cocks and Kame trembles against him.
"We'll just have sex on the couch." Jin pulls away for air.
"Shut up," Kame replies, wraps his own hand around Jin's and moves with him, buries his head in the crook of the other's shoulder. "Jin," he breathes, wraps one arm around the other's neck and, oh god, he's so close.
"How close are you?" Jin asks, sounds strained, rubs his thumb over the head of Kame's cock and receives a strangled moan in response. Before Kame mirrors the action. "Kame," he manages, wants to say something else but it only comes as a low growl as he feels himself fall over the edge, knows Kame's right alongside him when the other's teeth sink into his shoulder.
iii. photography porn, aka the best ever.
"So how do we do this?" Kame asks when he returns with the camera, and he's disappointed to find that Jin is still fully clothed.
"Well," Jin says slowly, and his voice sends shivers down Kame's spine. He reaches up to guide the other down beside him, takes the small digital camera from Kame's hands and inspects it. "We take pictures," he says finally.
"-give it to me," Kame snaps, deftly pulls open the cover and shifts his body so that he's pressed against Jin's side. "Kiss me," he commands as he turns toward the other, and Jin obliges slowly, tilts Kame's chin up before leaning in and pressing their lips together.
"Tilt away from the camera," Kame mumbles against Jin's mouth, positions the camera so that both of their heads are in the frame.
"Stop telling me what to do," Jin gasps against his mouth, and presses harder, bites down on Kame's lower lip and elicits a moan from deep in the other's throat. "Take a picture now," Jin hisses, fists a hand in Kame's hair as he hears the click of the camera.
It's a few moments before Jin pulls away for air. "That's how we do it," he finishes, and pushes Kame down onto the floor, rolls his hips against the other's and revels in the hitched gasp that follows. "Hey," Jin says, leans in close to Kame's ear and Kame can feel his warm breath, squirms up against Jin's body. "Hey," Jin repeats, and hears the click of the camera again. "Did you just take a picture of yourself?" He asks, and Kame nods and wraps an arm around his neck.
"Yes," he admits, and fists a hand in Jin's hair, pulls him to the side so that their lips meet and their limbs tangle together.
"I was going to tell you to," Jin mumbles against his mouth, takes in Kame's half-lidded eyes and messy hair. "Because you look really hot right now," he says, and Kame replies by kissing him so hard that their teeth clink, mumbling something unintelligible in return as there's another click of the camera.
"Camera whore," Kame hisses, pulls away for air and Jin's lips glide down his jaw and down the lean line of his neck. Jin pauses to suck at the thin skin there, to nibble, to bite, to watch the camera through half-lidded eyes as Kame clicks away.
"I might get off on it," Jin says offhandishly and pulls away, laughs as Kame wraps his legs around his waist and closes the space between them by pulling him down again. "Good idea, right?" He asks, and moves a hand to push the silky button-down shirt off of Kame's shoulders. "You should see your body," he says, leans in to press kisses against Kame's collarbone and moves deft fingers beneath the waistband of Kame's jeans.
"Yours first," Kame says, and Jin pulls off his thin grey t-shirt and unbuttons tight dark-washed jeans.
"Your legs are in the way," Jin says pointedly, and Kame straightens them, watches Jin on the digital LCD screen of his camera as the other stands to peel himself out of his pants.
"No underwear?" Kame asks, raises an eyebrow and takes another picture from his position on the floor.
"Too tight," Jin replies, kneels on the floor in front of Kame and leans forward, warm breath on the other's stomach. "How about you?" He tugs at the grey denim that sits low on Kame's hipbones, mouth moving lower so that it hovers over the button.
"What do you think?" Kame asks, fists a hand in Jin's hair.
"I think I can undo your pants with my mouth," Jin says, and proceeds to do just that as Kame arches his hips and feels the blood rushing through his body just beneath his skin. "Watch me," Jin whispers, sounds muffled, and Kame makes a noise in his throat because there's no connection between Jin's mouth and Kame's cock.
"I hate you," Kame gasps, lifts his hips so that Jin can pull the jeans from his legs. "I hate you," he repeats, and Jin just laughs.
"Give me the camera," Jin says, reaches to pull it from Kame's grasp. "Give it to me," he breathes, "and I'll give something to you."
Kame is more than happy to oblige.
iv. chair porn (crap i'm running out of interesting setting and props).
Jin has a favorite chair. It is next to his favorite desk. He likes to sit in his favorite chair at his favorite desk and write song lyrics. Or play with his laptop. But mostly, he writes song lyrics.
Sometimes, he has sex.
In the chair.
With Kame.
(It's actually a lot of the time, but who keeps count anyway?)
"Tadaima." Kame falls over the armrest into Jin's lap, wraps his arms around the other's neck and buries his nose in the other's shoulder. "Ta. Dai. Ma," he punctuates, and his legs kick at the air as he leans in for a kiss.
Jin is used to this. Kame is not heavy, but Kame sure does have a bony ass. "Okaeri," he tries to say, but Kame's mouth muffles his words, and Jin decides that focusing on the thin lips pressed against his own and the hands tugging at the hem of his t-shirt is more important than whatever it is he is trying to say (he doesn't remember anymore because Kame does something sexy with his teeth).
"I love coming home," Kame says when Jin pulls away for air, has that cute lilt to his voice that harbors all innocence and sunshine. He licks his lips, presses deft fingers against Jin's stomach and shifts his body so that he faces Jin, kneels so that Jin's legs are in between his own.
Kame's face is above Jin's now.
Jin looks up. "Hey," he says.
"Hey," Kame says, and tugs on a handful of Jin's thick wavy hair, pulls up so that Jin's chin tilts, and he moves in for another kiss.
Jin finds that Kame must have had a particularly stressful day at the studio, at the interview, at the whatever-engagement-he-had. Because that is the only time he ever initiates this, the only time he ever gets aggressive enough to bite Jin's lips and nip at Jin's tongue, to whisper hot words in Jin's ear that cause shivers to run up and down his spine.
"Hard day at the office?" Jin asks, grins up at Kame's face and feels a hand on his chest in response, feels sharp nails digging into the hot skin there and Kame rolls their hips together, stretches against Jin like a cat.
Kame leans down so that his lips touch the shell of Jin's ear. "You could say that," he breathes, and the hot air tickles Jin before it is replaced with the tip of a tongue and wetness, Kame sucking on the lobe as his hands move toward the button and zipper on Jin's jeans.
Jin's hands start in Kame's hair, slide their way down the hard ridge of his spine through a thin cotton shirt past the graceful arch of his back and rest on the curve of his ass, pull the lithe body closer.
He moans and leans back when Kame's fingers wrap around his cock.
"Yeah, say that," Kame says, wicked smile on his face as he leans against Jin, presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes as he moves his hand slowly up and down the other's length.