Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for rimming and the inevitable conclusion of this picture of Jin.
Summary: Yamapi comes home and finds Jin watching the news.
AN: musikologie posted Jin's Popeye shoot, and I got nothing done all yesterday because I couldn't stop staring at that fucking picture in the link. If I were Pi, I really would hit that 15 times a day. Also it is Pi's birthday! so happy birthday, Pi-chan and Beth-chan.
All That's Fit to Print
When Yamapi comes home, Jin is sprawled across his couch with the television on. Jin’s pants are unzipped and tugged low enough for him to get his hand inside. He isn’t jerking off exactly, although there’s an occasional slow flex of his wrist, mostly his hand is just resting over top of his cock. Yamapi doesn’t have to look at the television to know that the reporter girl Jin thinks is hot is probably on right now.
“I’m home,” Yamapi says belatedly, now that he knows there’s somebody here to say it to.
It takes a second for Jin to pull his eyes away from the television, but when he does lift them to Yamapi’s face they’re dark and amused, and his mouth curls into a smirk. He doesn’t say anything, but the occasional flex of his wrist turns into a definite grope as he holds Yamapi’s gaze.
Yamapi stays where he is, just watching, and the corner of Jin’s mouth turns up even more. He shifts his hand again, and now Jin really is stroking himself, slowly, so that the tip of his cock is just peeking above his pants at the end of his stroke. Jin’s T-shirt is rucked up just far enough to show a stripe of shadowed skin, dark line of hair trailing underneath Jin’s hand. Yamapi swallows hard; it’s almost hotter to watch the shift of Jin’s hand under his clothes than if he were actually naked, and it isn’t long before Yamapi’s own pant are feeling too tight.
Finally he can’t take it anymore. Striding across the room, Yamapi drops to his knees in front of Jin. He shoves Jin’s hand out of the way to replace it with his own, Jin’s pants down the last inch it takes to let Yamapi see all of Jin’s cock at once, flushed dark and hard against dark curls.
Jin lets his head fall back against the couch at the first touch of Yamapi’s mouth. Eventually one of Jin’s hands finds its way into Yamapi’s hair, twisting in the strands and scratching along Yamapi’s scalp. When Yamapi glances up through his bangs, he sees Jin’s got the other hand up his shirt, tugging at his nipple. The sight makes Yamapi moan and start working Jin harder.
“Mm, Pi,” Jin warns, voice vague and low, and Yamapi grips Jin at the base to squeeze him through his orgasm, sucking at his tip until Jin shudders himself out.
Jin is boneless and pliant as Yamapi sits up on his knees to yank Jin’s pants and boxerbriefs off, only making a mild, curious noise when Yamapi grabs Jin’s waist and rolls him over, so that he’s kneeling on the couch, arms reading over the back. Yamapi’s too impatient for much foreplay, and he leans in without any warning to run his tongue along the crease of Jin’s ass.
Letting his head fall forward onto his arms on the back of the couch, Jin shifts his knees wider to give Yamapi more room, pushing lazily into Yamapi’s hands as Yamapi gets a better grip on the curves of Jin’s ass and uses his thumbs to spread Jin open.
Yamapi works the tip of his tongue inside Jin, holding Jin tighter as Jin starts to push back against him, humming his approval in the same low, vague voice. Behind them, the news is still on, the cute reporter chattering away sweetly, and when Jin mutters, “Keep talking, baby,” Yamapi laughs against Jin’s skin.
It doesn’t take long, though, for Jin to start talking to him instead, urging him on as he licks his way inside Jin. Jin’s voice is low and sweet and dirty, and after all this time he knows how to get to Yamapi better than with his hands sometimes, like his words are wrapping around the base of Yamapi’s cock and squeezing. Yamapi tears his mouth away from Jin with a groan to stand up and yank his own clothes off.
“There’s lube under the couch,” Jin comments, still managing to sound casual even though his voice is breathless and he’s rubbing himself against the couch cushions. Despite the heat rushing through his veins, Yamapi takes note of exactly which cushion it is that Jin’s getting himself off on, so they can make Ryo sit there next time he’s over.
“Why do you know where my lube is?” Yamapi asks, just to have something to say while he finishes stripping, because if he doesn’t distract himself for a few seconds, they aren’t going to get terribly far. He tells Jin to lose his shirt too.
Jin looks over his shoulder while he’s at it to give Yamapi a low-lidded grin. “The news was on.”
Yamapi gives Jin’s ass a ringing slap, and Jin throws his head back to give a full-throated laugh, and then a groan when Yamapi slides the first finger in, pushing through the resistance of Jin’s body.
Jin fucks plenty of people, but there’s a far shorter list of people Jin will let fuck him, and given how tight Jin is as Yamapi starts working him open, Yamapi thinks he might be the only active member of the list at the moment. The thought makes him growl possessively, makes his cock throb at the thought of sinking into Jin and the fingers of his free hand sink into Jin’s hip until Jin is begging him to get on with it in that same sweet, dirty voice.
Even as plainly willing as Jin is, when Yamapi starts pushing inside him he doesn’t get in far before he’s struggling to get any farther.
“Come on, Jin,” Yamapi urges, leaning down to suck at the warm skin of Jin’s shoulders, stroking his sides. “Relax for me, sweetheart.’
Jin takes a deep breath as Yamapi coaxes him with soft touches and pet names, then another, and little by little he relaxes enough to let Yamapi deeper inside, deep enough that he can start to move again.
He starts out slow, even though Jin has enough of his breath back to whine for Yamapi to hurry. They aren’t going at Jin’s pace, though, and Yamapi takes his time in long, deep thrusts that soon enough have Jin begging for more.
“Fuck, stop cuddling me and just fuck me!” Jin finally snaps, struggling against the tight grip Yamapi has on his hips. “Who needs girls when I have you?”
“That’s exactly the idea,” Yamapi growls in Jin’s ear, snapping his hips to make Jin moan. He shifts a little and thrusts again. “Tell me when I get it right, hm?”
But Jin doesn’t have to tell him, he can feel the way Jin’s whole body pulls tight when he gets the angle right, not that it stops Jin from moaning, “There, right there.” Yamapi reaches around to find Jin’s cock full and hard, and strokes him in time with his thrusts until Jin is close enough to start calling him “Tomo-chan.”
“Want me to make you come?” Yamapi asks, close enough himself to make his voice shake, but it’s worth it to hear the way Jin begs yes, please, yes and then sobs his name again when Yamapi does.
“Don’t stop,” Jin asks faintly as he’s coming back, and it’s not like Yamapi could anyway as he fucks Jin through the end of his orgasm.
“So good, Jin,” Yamapi groans, burying his face against Jin’s hair as his own orgasm tears through him.
He collapses on Jin and they lie like that while they both catch their breath, Jin’s skin hot and slick against his own until Jin stirs and tells him to get off, he must be getting fat.
“Takes one to know one,” Yamapi replies as he rolls over to flop down on his back against the far arm of the couch. He grunts as Jin lands heavily on his chest, digging his chin into Yamapi’s collarbones and making himself comfortable without any regard to Yamapi’s ribs or limbs so that he can see the television. The news is winding down, and Yamapi eyes it idly. “She is pretty cute, ne.”
“Hmm, told you so,” Jin agrees, smug. He shifts his cock against Yamapi’s thigh in a slow circle, and Yamapi throws his head back to laugh.