[02/06] Yakuza AU: Thanks
title. Thanks
pairing. akame (je)
rating. nc-17
summary. akanishi and kamenashi are yakuza who work together, who live together, who trust each other. they're waiting on a job. akanishi whines about what he wants. kamenashi gives it to him (he needs it).
author’s note. yakuza au. i might regret posting this sooner rather than later, but whatever. happy holidays!
word count. 01880
They do it because Kamenashi needs it after rough jobs. He needs to feel alive, needs to get the feeling of impending death out of his veins. He needs an outlet because he's angry, because he's sad. Because his tensions run incredibly high and his adrenaline makes him shake and shiver.
But it has to be Akanishi, always Akanishi. Because he's the only one who understands, who doesn't ask questions and doesn't expect something more.
---
They're watching for the wife of one of their seniors. Apparently she gets around, has a thing for young CEOs in Armani suits with big foreign cars. They sit outside a five-star hotel in their shitty car with heating that doesn't work and a radio that crackles.
"How long do you think it takes for a fuck?" Akanishi asks. He lights a cigarette and holds it between the index and middle fingers of his left hand.
"Maybe they're eating dinner," Kamenashi supplies.
"Maybe he's eating her." Akanishi takes a drag. "I could be doing something useful right now."
Kamenashi flips open his cell phone. It reads one fifty-six am. "Sleeping?"
"Sleeping is useful," Akanishi says, takes another drag before passing the cigarette to Kamenashi. "Or I could be getting head from the bartender at the club I meant to go to."
Kamenashi takes a drag, doesn't doubt it. "That doesn't pay the bills," he says. If Akanishi really wants a blowjob-
"We don't do this just because it pays the bills, Kamenashi. We'd make great hosts. Remember that job we did where we had to pretend to be hosts? We'd be raking in the cash that way, too."
"We do this because if we quit then they'll fucking kill us." Kamenashi replies. "Don't wanna die, do you?"
"I want a blowjob," Akanishi says, taps his fingers on the steering way and watches the hotel's entrance. "Supposedly, she never spends the night. If tonight's the night that she does, I'm going to get fucking pissed."
Kamenashi taps the cigarette in the ashtray. The job should be easy, but they’re feeling antsy because they've been waiting for five hours. When he has the chance to think things through, he freaks out.
Things could go wrong. They could get caught. This might be a set-up. Maybe she's armed or maybe she knows they're watching.
He thinks he's fucking crazy.
Akanishi turns toward him, then. Kamenashi looks at him, swallows, lets out a shaky breath. He feels like he's going to burst, so he leans in fast, kisses Akanishi hard.
Hard, desperate, smoky. His teeth scrape against Akanishi's bottom lip. He hears the startled, strangled moan in the back of the other's throat. Then there's a hand on the back of his neck, another hand in his hair. Their suits are stifling (Armani, too, probably just like the guy who's fucking the woman they're supposed to be watching for).
Kamenashi pulls away and his hands are fisted in Akanishi's suit. They breathe heavy. Akanishi's eyes are surprised, wide, and in the darkness, he almost looks childish.
"Still want that blowjob?" Kamenashi asks. He watches Akanishi open his mouth to say something, but his tongue darts out to sweep across his lips instead. He's hesitating. He's thinking. "I need this," Kamenashi adds. "You want it."
Akanishi pulls Kamenashi toward him.
They fumble in the small space. Kamenashi presses his lips to Akanishi's neck. He sucks hard, runs his tongue along the hot patch of skin. His hands unbutton the other's jacket hurriedly, and Akanishi makes a noise of protest, mumbles something about the price of designer suits and custom tailoring.
"You don't really care," Kamenashi says when he pulls his head up, when his hands are beneath Akanishi's designer shirt and dancing up his warm stomach toward his chest. Kamenashi presses forward until they're both in the driver's side seat, Kamenashi halfway in Akanishi's lap.
"Kinda," Akanishi replies, and hisses when Kamenashi's nails dig into his chest, when Kamenashi drags his hands down until they meet the waist of Akanishi's pants.
Kamenashi undoes Akanishi's belt buckle quickly, unbuttons and unzips his pants before the other can moan his name (Kazuya, not Kamenashi, and the hairs on the back of Kamenashi's neck stand). He kicks off his shoes, adjusts his body so that he straddles Akanishi's lap. It's a tight fit and the steering wheel presses against the small of his back.
"You're turning into some sort of fucking sex addict," Akanishi says, breathes raggedly as one of Kamenashi's hands wraps around his cock. "Not that I'm complaining, really, but it's a little worrisome." He bites back a moan, rolls his hips against Kamenashi's hand. "Just like that," he says breathily, buries his hands in Kamenashi's hair and pulls the other close for a kiss.
Akanishi's tongue is in Kamenashi's mouth and Kamenashi leans forward, rocks against him. He's hard now too, and the car is hot, and he needs-
Akanishi rolls his hips again, this time presses against Kamenashi's length through his pants. Kamenashi shudders, moans into Akanishi's mouth before pulling away.
"If you want that blowjob, you'll have to adjust," he says, voice thick. Akanishi is still rolling his hips, watching Kamenashi with half-lidded dark eyes. His face is wanton, needy, his teeth biting his lower lip. One of his hands move to the side of the seat, pulls on the handle that makes it fall back, and when it does, Kamenashi is taken by surprise (he falls forward onto Akanishi's chest).
"She'd better stay in there all night," Akanishi says, adjusts so that he lies further up the seat, so Kamenashi can bend forward until Akanishi feels his breath on his cock. "We're fucking screwed if we fuck this up. I'm blaming you," he says.
"We're not as replaceable as you think," Kamenashi breathes, presses his lips against the tip of Akanishi's length. "They need us, you know." And he watches Akanishi's face as he takes his cock in, slow. Kamenashi watches Akanishi watch him with dark eyes with his hands still buried in Kamenashi's hair. They urge him on, pull him in gently. More, more.
A little more.
Akanishi bucks his hips and Kamenashi gags, but he takes him in deep, and Akanishi gasps hard, struggles to keep his breaths under control.
Kamenashi feels alive, because Akanishi, beneath him, solid and hot and gasping and half-naked and exposed, is alive. Because this is what he associates with existing (sex with Akanishi Jin).
It's kind of fucked up, he supposes, but Akanishi feels good in his mouth, in his hands. Akanishi lets himself go entirely, and it's just the two of them and everything seems so clear.
"Fuck, Kazuya," Akanishi says, voice ragged. He's close. Kamenashi can feel it in Akanishi's tightening body, can hear it in his tightening voice.
Akanishi comes and Kamenashi is tight-lipped. He feels Akanishi shudder, feels his hands pull on his hair roughly. He sucks hard, watches Akanishi throw his head back and cry out.
He pulls away, slowly, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He leans forward, presses his body against Akanishi's and presses his lips to the junction of his neck and collarbone.
He's hard, still.
"I can take care of you," Akanishi says. His voice sends a shiver down Kamenashi's spine. "Return the favor, you know," he says.
Kamenashi doesn't reply. He knows Akanishi knows, and he rocks against him gently as the other unbuckles his pants, slips his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers and holds Kamenashi's length firmly.
He strokes him slow, soft. Akanishi's hands are big and rough, but they're careful, and Kamenashi just wants to thrust against him, to push and pull and go at his own pace.
Akanishi lets go of him when he tries, and a strangled, pitiful noise of protest escapes his lips and muffles itself against Akanishi's neck.
"Don't even try it," Akanishi says. "We're doing this my way."
Kamenashi presses his body flush against the other so that their hip bones meet. “I just gave you a blowjob, you know.”
Akanishi doesn't answer, has him breathing heavy and ragged for a long time. He pulls at the right moments, smoothes his thumb over the head. His strokes are languid and lazy, and all Kamenashi can do is moan and roll his hips and dig his nails into Akanishi's shoulders.
They're silent except for Kamenashi's moans, except for his ragged breathing and the friction of their bodies. Kamenashi looks up at Akanishi, watches him through the fringe of his dark, damp hair, half-opens his mouth to say something, but only a shuddering breath comes out.
"The look on your face is so worth it," Akanishi says, and Kamenashi doesn't really know what he means.
"Just give me my handjob," he says, squeezes his eyes shut. He's so close, so so so close. He can feel the wave coming, but Akanishi is preventing it. "You're a fucking dick, Akanishi. You're fucking teasing me," he says. The words become muffled as Akanishi presses their lips together.
"The look on your face is so worth it," Akanishi repeats against his lips, before his hand begins to stroke rougher, faster.
And Kamenashi moans against the corner of Akanishi's mouth, cries out, because, yes, there's the edge, with Akanishi's hand moving fast over his cock and Akanishi's tongue pressing into his mouth. And Kamenashi's body shudders and his nails dig into Akanishi's shoulders harder, maybe enough to draw blood, enough to hurt because the other cries out. Kamenashi rocks forward, lets out a strangled moan and trembles. He opens his eyes, watches Akanishi's eyes, watches them watch his own and try to look into his fucking soul.
He collapses against Akanishi's chest, wraps his arms around the other's neck and breathes heavy. It's hot and their suits are sweaty and it smells like sex.
"I see her," Akanishi says suddenly, a few moments later. He sits up and Kamenashi moves back to the passenger side seat. They struggle to zip their pants, to buckle their belts. Their hair is mussed, their skin pink and their lips swollen. "She has a nice ass," Akanishi comments.
Kamenashi searches the back seat for the gun Akanishi is supposed to use. It's a hit. "Remember the plan?" He asks. His head is still in something of a daze.
"I've got it," Akanishi says. He opens his door and shivers. The air outside is chilly. "Follow her until the third alley. Bullet to the mouth so that it ruins her pretty face. Rob her for kicks, maybe."
"Be careful," Kamenashi says. "I'll bring the car up to the next block."
Akanishi nods and Kamenashi hands him his gun. Akanishi has one leg out the door before he turns back to Kamenashi.
"Thanks," he says, and smiles.
"You too," Kamenashi says, stiffens when Akanishi leans in to brush his lips against his cheek.
Fuck.
PART 01 // PART 03
2007.12.25 → 2007.12.26