24 Hour Valentine's Day Challenge
Title: None Yet
Pairing: Pin
Rating: R-ish
Author's note: This was written for the 24 Hour Valentine's Day Challenge, but both of us are a ridiculous degree of fail and haven't gotten to the end. WOEFACE. ;O;
And here are the awesome fics by the other participants: acchikocchi | agirlcalledkil | anamuan | honooko | imwahyou | iverin | jackoweskla | jadedfrenzy | jnessap | ky_rin | mousapelli | pearljemz | peroxidepest17 | procreational | shatteredinu | soucieux | thawrecka | tinyangl | tokyostory
Yamapi thought that Jin was out to get him.
That had to be it. There could be no other explanation.
It happened some time after they moved into the same apartment building. At first, it was all fine and dandy because both of them had problems with early mornings, and an alarm clock that poked, prodded, and kicked back was a lot more effective than one that just wailed shrilly until somebody got fed up and threw it against a wall. In fact, they even set up a schedule for such things-
(“Jin, you are responsible for waking me up on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I’ve got you on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“Oh, cool! … Wait a minute, how come I have to wake you up for three days and you only have to do it for two? That’s not fair!”)
-with a set of rules for proper conduct while performing these very daunting tasks.
(“What about dumping water over the bed?” Jin asked innocently and then shrieked like a banshee when Yamapi tackled him to the floor.)
Oh, little did Yamapi know that this little system of theirs, which had been working out so well, would soon become the bane of his existence.
i.
“Jin, you are going to be late for work!” Yamapi called through the silent apartment as he pocketed Jin’s spare apartment key and let the door slam shut behind him. Sighing, he made his way to the bedroom, mentally (and somewhat physically) preparing himself for the task ahead. He shoved open the bedroom door and began his perilous trek through a sea of clothes, shoes, hats, and the heavens know what else Jin had thrown onto the floor.
“Dammit,” Yamapi hissed as he nearly tripped over a pair of jeans, and only saved himself from hitting the floor by grabbing onto the edge of the dresser next to Jin’s bed. Straightening up, he leaned in to give Jin a gentle shake. “Come on, Jin, get up, I am not going to wait forever for you to-”
-and the rest of the words died in his throat.
Jin was sleeping on the bed, the blankets rumpled and in complete disarray, revealing much more than they covered up. His hair was mussed, lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling gently with every inhale and exhale of breath, fingers curled slightly on his pillow. In the glow of the sunlight streaming through the curtains, Yamapi could see the exhaustion etched on Jin’s features. Jin’s face was so openly honest, vulnerability in every line of his body, that Yamapi just stood there for a few extremely long moments, rooted into place like something had just hit him over the head at the speed of a thousand miles per hour.
In the silence, two things roared through his mind.
One: he wanted to let Jin sleep.
Two: he wanted to kiss him awake.
“…”
…
Slowly, and very carefully now, Yamapi retracted his hands and cautiously, backed his way out of Jin’s room and headed for the door. As soon as the apartment door slammed shut behind him, Yamapi bolted for it.
He got a very angry phone call from Jin later on that day.
“What the hell, Pi, why didn’t you wake me up?!” Jin screeched. “I was late for work! Kamenashi was about to have a brain hemorrhage!”
“Oh, umm,” Yamapi’s brain scrambled for an excuse. “I tried to wake you up, but-” but something weird happened and I needed to get out of there “-you wouldn’t budge and I was going to be late so-”
“Well, whatever! You owe me, okay?!”
ii.
“Owing Jin” turned out to be ordering Chinese take-away for both of them later on that day. Jin had demanded that Yamapi make it up to him by paying for both their shares, to which Yamapi was more than happy to oblige in this situation because he really didn’t know how to deal with Jin constantly nagging him about not waking him up (because he himself didn’t know the reason… or so he thought).
They were bumming in Jin’s living room. The television was on, tuned into some random game show, and Yamapi was finding it somewhat easier to ignore the fact that just a few feet away was Jin’s bedroom, where that episode had occurred, when there were buffalo wings with hot, garlic sauce in his hands. Yamapi was happily eating away, watching the game show with detached interest, and wow!, he should order more from this place because the wings were really good-
“Hey,” Jin said suddenly.
“Huh?” Yamapi turned in response to see Jin leaning in, invading Yamapi’s precious bubble of personal space, and he was coming closer, his eyes dark, intense, and Yamapi’s heart suddenly started pounding, beating a rapid tattoo in his chest, and his brain was screeching something, or perhaps it was just going blank altogether, and he reflexively closed his eyes as if he was expecting something, maybe-
Wait! What am I thinking?!
-and Yamapi’s eyes fluttered open to see Jin reaching out-
-and Jin wiped a smudge of sauce from the corner of Yamapi’s mouth.
He felt like the world could have ended then and there and he wouldn’t have minded in the slightest.
Casually, Jin licked the sauce off his fingertip. “Hey, not bad.”
Yamapi tried to goad his tongue into responding. “…W-what?”
“The garlic sauce.” Jin smiled. “Not bad.”
If this continued on any longer, Yamapi seriously thought, at this rate, his life would come to a tragic halt at the ripe old age of twenty-two from a heart attack or something.
iii.
It was a lazy and languid Saturday afternoon, and Yamapi was on his couch, looking to spend his day off relaxing (and decidedly not thinking about Jin and beds and fingers and ’hey, not bad’) by listening to some music on his iPod. And really, what could be better than listening to Southern All Stars with no interruptions, no distractions whatsoever. Yamapi was just about to recline back in his couch and settle in for the afternoon when suddenly, the shrill incessant ringing of the doorbell cut into his reverie.
“Pi!” Jin was shouting and then started punctuating his yelling by pounding on the Yamapi’s door with his fist. “Open up openupopenupopenup!”
The panic in Jin’s voice made Yamapi scramble off his couch, almost slamming his knee against his coffee table in his haste, and he half-hobbled and half-ran to the foyer. He yanked open the door, expecting some emergency, something catastrophic-maybe the building was on fire, but what, he didn’t smell any smoke or hear the alarms -
-and was greeted by the sight of Jin standing there… naked. Well, no, not fully naked, since he had a towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist, but still. He was out of breath, panting slightly, and his lips were parted. His hair was wet, water dribbling down and collecting in the hollow of his collarbones, and Yamapi stared, his eyes sliding down the expanse of skin, down the trail of fine hair below Jin’s navel, down to where the towel was just slung so carelessly around Jin’s hips, and Yamapi suddenly experienced the urge to take his tongue to that taut expanse of skin right where Jin’s hips began-
Jin ran his hand impatiently through his hair.
“No more shampoo. Need to borrow yours,” he said, succinctly.
Unfortunately, Yamapi was in no mental state to make a proper response, unable to register anything that Jin said.
“Uhh…”
Impatient, Jin pushed past Yamapi and over the sound of blood in his ears, Yamapi could hear Jin rummaging in his bathroom, knocking over bottles to get to Yamapi’s collection of Tsubaki shampoo. And then he was back, fingers wrapped around the precious container.
“Thanks,” Jin said, patting Yamapi on the shoulder with his wet hand as he brushed past him, bumping his hip lightly against Yamapi’s to get through the tiny doorway, and Yamapi could feel the water seeping through the fabric of his thin t-shirt, the warmth of Jin’s body in that brief caress. And he stood there, rooted in place, long after he heard Jin’s apartment door slam shut behind him.
“…You’re welcome,” he said, finally, his voice soft in the empty hallway.
iv.
Jin shoved Yamapi, hard, knocking him backwards against the wall behind him. Yamapi barely had the time to register anything before Jin’s fingers were rapidly undoing the buttons of his jeans, tugging down the zipper. And then his hand was inside Yamapi’s boxers and wrapped around his cock, fingers warm and frantic and urgent. Yamapi gasped as a shudder echoed through his body while Jin moved his hand in that painfully agonizing way, too fast and too slow at the same time, and nothing delicate like a woman’s touch, but it was good, and the tempo was bringing him too close to the edge too fast.
“Jin, Jin-” Craving more contact, Yamapi reached forward and grabbed the front of Jin’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss that was more gasping and short pants of breath against soft lips than anything else. His mouth moved down Jin’s jawline, sucking and nibbling, while he shoved his hands under Jin’s shirt, running his fingers up his side.
Jin laughed softly then, his mouth on Yamapi’s ear so the low sound was accompanied by a puff of warm air, but his laugh was cut short when Yamapi did something with his lips, his tongue, teeth, to the fluttering pulse on Jin’s throat.
“Nrgghh,” Jin groaned and said something, something which, for some reason, sounded suspiciously like the chorus of Taiyou no Namida…
Yamapi opened his eyes to see his cellphone ringing on the dresser, and felt like hitting his face against the headboard of his bed. Grabbing the phone, he flipped it open, and groggily snapped, “What?”
“Pi?” Jin’s voice came shakily from the other side, sounding just a bit shy of utter hysteria. “Are the lights gone?”
Yamapi glanced around his room to realize that he was surrounded by pitch black; there were no glowing numbers on his digital clock and he was pretty sure his heat was gone as well. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Oh,” Jin paused and Yamapi could hear his heavy breathing on the mouthpiece of his cellphone. “Pi, c-can you come over?”
Yamapi sighed, long-sufferingly, and all he could think when he crawled into Jin’s bed later and Jin curled up close against Yamapi’s back was how he no longer understood the way his own mind and body operated. It felt like his life was quickly spiraling into madness reminiscent of the seventh ring of hell.
To be continued.
Pairing: Pin
Rating: R-ish
Author's note: This was written for the 24 Hour Valentine's Day Challenge, but both of us are a ridiculous degree of fail and haven't gotten to the end. WOEFACE. ;O;
And here are the awesome fics by the other participants: acchikocchi | agirlcalledkil | anamuan | honooko | imwahyou | iverin | jackoweskla | jadedfrenzy | jnessap | ky_rin | mousapelli | pearljemz | peroxidepest17 | procreational | shatteredinu | soucieux | thawrecka | tinyangl | tokyostory
Yamapi thought that Jin was out to get him.
That had to be it. There could be no other explanation.
It happened some time after they moved into the same apartment building. At first, it was all fine and dandy because both of them had problems with early mornings, and an alarm clock that poked, prodded, and kicked back was a lot more effective than one that just wailed shrilly until somebody got fed up and threw it against a wall. In fact, they even set up a schedule for such things-
(“Jin, you are responsible for waking me up on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I’ve got you on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“Oh, cool! … Wait a minute, how come I have to wake you up for three days and you only have to do it for two? That’s not fair!”)
-with a set of rules for proper conduct while performing these very daunting tasks.
(“What about dumping water over the bed?” Jin asked innocently and then shrieked like a banshee when Yamapi tackled him to the floor.)
Oh, little did Yamapi know that this little system of theirs, which had been working out so well, would soon become the bane of his existence.
i.
“Jin, you are going to be late for work!” Yamapi called through the silent apartment as he pocketed Jin’s spare apartment key and let the door slam shut behind him. Sighing, he made his way to the bedroom, mentally (and somewhat physically) preparing himself for the task ahead. He shoved open the bedroom door and began his perilous trek through a sea of clothes, shoes, hats, and the heavens know what else Jin had thrown onto the floor.
“Dammit,” Yamapi hissed as he nearly tripped over a pair of jeans, and only saved himself from hitting the floor by grabbing onto the edge of the dresser next to Jin’s bed. Straightening up, he leaned in to give Jin a gentle shake. “Come on, Jin, get up, I am not going to wait forever for you to-”
-and the rest of the words died in his throat.
Jin was sleeping on the bed, the blankets rumpled and in complete disarray, revealing much more than they covered up. His hair was mussed, lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling gently with every inhale and exhale of breath, fingers curled slightly on his pillow. In the glow of the sunlight streaming through the curtains, Yamapi could see the exhaustion etched on Jin’s features. Jin’s face was so openly honest, vulnerability in every line of his body, that Yamapi just stood there for a few extremely long moments, rooted into place like something had just hit him over the head at the speed of a thousand miles per hour.
In the silence, two things roared through his mind.
One: he wanted to let Jin sleep.
Two: he wanted to kiss him awake.
“…”
…
Slowly, and very carefully now, Yamapi retracted his hands and cautiously, backed his way out of Jin’s room and headed for the door. As soon as the apartment door slammed shut behind him, Yamapi bolted for it.
He got a very angry phone call from Jin later on that day.
“What the hell, Pi, why didn’t you wake me up?!” Jin screeched. “I was late for work! Kamenashi was about to have a brain hemorrhage!”
“Oh, umm,” Yamapi’s brain scrambled for an excuse. “I tried to wake you up, but-” but something weird happened and I needed to get out of there “-you wouldn’t budge and I was going to be late so-”
“Well, whatever! You owe me, okay?!”
ii.
“Owing Jin” turned out to be ordering Chinese take-away for both of them later on that day. Jin had demanded that Yamapi make it up to him by paying for both their shares, to which Yamapi was more than happy to oblige in this situation because he really didn’t know how to deal with Jin constantly nagging him about not waking him up (because he himself didn’t know the reason… or so he thought).
They were bumming in Jin’s living room. The television was on, tuned into some random game show, and Yamapi was finding it somewhat easier to ignore the fact that just a few feet away was Jin’s bedroom, where that episode had occurred, when there were buffalo wings with hot, garlic sauce in his hands. Yamapi was happily eating away, watching the game show with detached interest, and wow!, he should order more from this place because the wings were really good-
“Hey,” Jin said suddenly.
“Huh?” Yamapi turned in response to see Jin leaning in, invading Yamapi’s precious bubble of personal space, and he was coming closer, his eyes dark, intense, and Yamapi’s heart suddenly started pounding, beating a rapid tattoo in his chest, and his brain was screeching something, or perhaps it was just going blank altogether, and he reflexively closed his eyes as if he was expecting something, maybe-
Wait! What am I thinking?!
-and Yamapi’s eyes fluttered open to see Jin reaching out-
-and Jin wiped a smudge of sauce from the corner of Yamapi’s mouth.
He felt like the world could have ended then and there and he wouldn’t have minded in the slightest.
Casually, Jin licked the sauce off his fingertip. “Hey, not bad.”
Yamapi tried to goad his tongue into responding. “…W-what?”
“The garlic sauce.” Jin smiled. “Not bad.”
If this continued on any longer, Yamapi seriously thought, at this rate, his life would come to a tragic halt at the ripe old age of twenty-two from a heart attack or something.
iii.
It was a lazy and languid Saturday afternoon, and Yamapi was on his couch, looking to spend his day off relaxing (and decidedly not thinking about Jin and beds and fingers and ’hey, not bad’) by listening to some music on his iPod. And really, what could be better than listening to Southern All Stars with no interruptions, no distractions whatsoever. Yamapi was just about to recline back in his couch and settle in for the afternoon when suddenly, the shrill incessant ringing of the doorbell cut into his reverie.
“Pi!” Jin was shouting and then started punctuating his yelling by pounding on the Yamapi’s door with his fist. “Open up openupopenupopenup!”
The panic in Jin’s voice made Yamapi scramble off his couch, almost slamming his knee against his coffee table in his haste, and he half-hobbled and half-ran to the foyer. He yanked open the door, expecting some emergency, something catastrophic-maybe the building was on fire, but what, he didn’t smell any smoke or hear the alarms -
-and was greeted by the sight of Jin standing there… naked. Well, no, not fully naked, since he had a towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist, but still. He was out of breath, panting slightly, and his lips were parted. His hair was wet, water dribbling down and collecting in the hollow of his collarbones, and Yamapi stared, his eyes sliding down the expanse of skin, down the trail of fine hair below Jin’s navel, down to where the towel was just slung so carelessly around Jin’s hips, and Yamapi suddenly experienced the urge to take his tongue to that taut expanse of skin right where Jin’s hips began-
Jin ran his hand impatiently through his hair.
“No more shampoo. Need to borrow yours,” he said, succinctly.
Unfortunately, Yamapi was in no mental state to make a proper response, unable to register anything that Jin said.
“Uhh…”
Impatient, Jin pushed past Yamapi and over the sound of blood in his ears, Yamapi could hear Jin rummaging in his bathroom, knocking over bottles to get to Yamapi’s collection of Tsubaki shampoo. And then he was back, fingers wrapped around the precious container.
“Thanks,” Jin said, patting Yamapi on the shoulder with his wet hand as he brushed past him, bumping his hip lightly against Yamapi’s to get through the tiny doorway, and Yamapi could feel the water seeping through the fabric of his thin t-shirt, the warmth of Jin’s body in that brief caress. And he stood there, rooted in place, long after he heard Jin’s apartment door slam shut behind him.
“…You’re welcome,” he said, finally, his voice soft in the empty hallway.
iv.
Jin shoved Yamapi, hard, knocking him backwards against the wall behind him. Yamapi barely had the time to register anything before Jin’s fingers were rapidly undoing the buttons of his jeans, tugging down the zipper. And then his hand was inside Yamapi’s boxers and wrapped around his cock, fingers warm and frantic and urgent. Yamapi gasped as a shudder echoed through his body while Jin moved his hand in that painfully agonizing way, too fast and too slow at the same time, and nothing delicate like a woman’s touch, but it was good, and the tempo was bringing him too close to the edge too fast.
“Jin, Jin-” Craving more contact, Yamapi reached forward and grabbed the front of Jin’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss that was more gasping and short pants of breath against soft lips than anything else. His mouth moved down Jin’s jawline, sucking and nibbling, while he shoved his hands under Jin’s shirt, running his fingers up his side.
Jin laughed softly then, his mouth on Yamapi’s ear so the low sound was accompanied by a puff of warm air, but his laugh was cut short when Yamapi did something with his lips, his tongue, teeth, to the fluttering pulse on Jin’s throat.
“Nrgghh,” Jin groaned and said something, something which, for some reason, sounded suspiciously like the chorus of Taiyou no Namida…
Yamapi opened his eyes to see his cellphone ringing on the dresser, and felt like hitting his face against the headboard of his bed. Grabbing the phone, he flipped it open, and groggily snapped, “What?”
“Pi?” Jin’s voice came shakily from the other side, sounding just a bit shy of utter hysteria. “Are the lights gone?”
Yamapi glanced around his room to realize that he was surrounded by pitch black; there were no glowing numbers on his digital clock and he was pretty sure his heat was gone as well. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Oh,” Jin paused and Yamapi could hear his heavy breathing on the mouthpiece of his cellphone. “Pi, c-can you come over?”
Yamapi sighed, long-sufferingly, and all he could think when he crawled into Jin’s bed later and Jin curled up close against Yamapi’s back was how he no longer understood the way his own mind and body operated. It felt like his life was quickly spiraling into madness reminiscent of the seventh ring of hell.
To be continued.