Inked
Title: Inked
Characters/Pairing: Jin/Yamashita, brief Yamashita/OC (girl, omg)
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2,790
Warnings: Tattooing, a little Pi/Girl, Jin/Girl
Summary: Yamashita's never been that into tattoos, but his mind is changing.
Notes: Merry Christmas, Ri. XD Thanks to Amy for her encouragement. <3
---
Yamashita leaned up on one elbow, tracing the lines across her back in silent appreciation. He'd never been into tattoos before now, but ever since he'd started dating this girl, this bold American who wore them like art, he'd been entranced with hers. His favorite was the one on her back, starting at her left shoulder and cascading down along the side until it curved to spread across her lower back, a stunning, chaotic mess of blues and greens that stood out brightly against her pale, pale skin. The tattoo was beautiful and sprawling, just like the girl, all long, graceful limbs and artfully tousled hair that came down past her shoulders. He loved it best when she wore it in a low ponytail to the right, its dark mass a counterbalance to the bright blues and greens.
When he had worked his fingers back to the top to begin the tracing all over again, she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. "You like it?" she asked.
"Very much."
"And me?" she asked, smile turning coy.
"You too," he said. She laughed in delight and he leaned forward to kiss her, pulling back a bit when she turned over in his arms, pressing her bare chest against his.
"Good. You can come with me, then. I'm getting it continued."
"How?"
She took his hand in hers and put it on her left shoulder, drawing it down over her collarbone and around to cup her breast, grinning up at him as he squeezed on reflex.
"Wait," he said, leaning back to look at her incredulously. "You're going to let someone tattoo your tit?!"
Her laugh was loud and pleased. "My innocent boy. Yes. And you get to hold my hand."
---
He trailed into the shop behind her and watched as she greeted the staff like old friends. She answered his questioning look with a smile. "When you get a tattoo like this," she said, tapping her shoulder, "you make friends. It takes a while."
They set her up in a little room in the back and she stripped off her shirt as soon as the door was closed, sinking into the chair in the middle without a trace of embarrassment, while Yamashita looked around apprehensively. It looked a bit like a torture chamber he thought, and shuddered, the action causing his girlfriend to laugh.
"You're not the one getting stuck, don't worry."
Moments later when the person Yamashita assumed to be the tattoo artist came in, he showed no surprise at the half-naked state of his client, just sat down next to her and shook her hand.
"Tomo, this is Akanishi Jin. Jin, Yamashita Tomohisa."
Jin gave Yamashita a quick once-over. "Boyfriend?" he asked her, locking eyes with him and smiling a little.
"Yep."
"Hope he's got a good grip."
He watched carefully as Jin prepped her, the scent of alcohol suddenly strong in the air, and Jin spoke casually as he did so, probably trying to put her at ease, Yamashita thought. When Jin turned to a table, rummaging around on it, his girlfriend put her hand out and he took it, feeling it tremble slightly in his own and he squeezed it once and smiled at her.
Watching Jin work was amazing. So much mess, he thought, turns into so much beauty, ink and a little blood smearing over her skin as Jin carefully wiped it away, unveiling, before moving on. His movements were precise, and once he'd cleared the ink, Yamashita could clearly see the design, matching the flow and feel of the one on her back. He was sort of awed to watch the artist at work, a weird sort of affinity between them that came from Yamashita's constant admiration of his work, and he spared some time to watch Jin, too, soft hair falling around his face as he worked, letting out quick puffs of breath to get it out of his eyes, pink tongue coming out to flick against wide lips, just a flash, but distracting.
"Don't they usually outline first?" Yamashita whispered to her, and she gritted her teeth as she responded.
"I wanted him to freestyle it. I didn't want clean lines and he's the best in the area for freestyle tattooing." She let out a strained laugh as Jin pulled the tattoo gun away to dip it in the ink. "I had to sign a waiver."
Yamashita just watched, entranced as Jin's soft hand and the hard lines of the gun moved over his girlfriend's breast, cupping and pulling, absently brushing fingers over her nipple with a look of concentration on his face, and Yamashita felt a coiling in his stomach that shamed him.
That night he thought of Jin's soft hands moving over his girlfriend's tattooed chest, tracing his own artwork as he moved against her until Yamashita slicked his fingers with come.
A few months later the girl was gone, and he was mostly irritated to find that he missed the tattoo more than the girl. That was the only justification he could find for why he was standing outside the tattoo parlor, staring at the art in the windows, identifying the ones he felt were Jin's. The door opened and closed, and he was a little too engrossed to notice right away, only turning his head when he heard the flick of a lighter, to look straight into Jin's eyes.
Lips pursed around the stick, a pull of breath and quick red flash of burning tobacco, then white smoke hanging in the air as they stared at one another. Just a breath and Jin was waving his hand in his face, dispersing the lingering exhalation and smiling lazily at him.
"Thinking about getting a tattoo?" he asked.
Yamashita just shook his head vehemently, eyes widening as Jin came close and prowled around him, running light fingers over his leather jacket, the fabric of his shirt underneath.
"Of course not. Pretty rich boys like you don't get tattoos." Pursing his lips thoughtfully he tapped Yamashita's chest, just over his heart. "You could get one here over your heart like it means something." A tap against his inner arm. "Here and no one will know but you as long as you're careful. Hurts like a bitch, though. Tender. Can't make it easy to hide your shame. That's what it would be for you, right?" He stepped behind Yamashita and touched his back, just below his right shoulder. "But I could put one here, your shame on display for everyone but you. Just the knowledge of its existence. If you're into that," he added with a smirk as he slid back into Yamashita's view, leaning against the store front and taking a drag.
Yamashita felt that tight coiling again and brushed it aside. "Where are yours?" he asked, a little defensively.
Jin just smiled lazily - Yamashita's breath caught at that - and breathed out. "Don't have any. I'm not into pain." Then he laughed and winked at Yamashita. "Not mine, anyway."
He could feel his cheeks burning as he watched the laughter in Jin's eyes.
"Where's your girlfriend?" Jin asked suddenly. "That was you with Aria a few months ago, right?"
"I don't know. We're not together anymore," he said, shutting his eyes against the flood of images, Jin's hands on her body, his lips parting as he panted out his pleasure.
"Ah. Sorry," Jin said, cool façade suddenly breaking as he bit his lip and looked down, dropped his cigarette to the floor and watched his foot grind it out. "Well," he said after the awkward silence. "Gotta get back in. Come and see me sometime when you change your mind."
That night he thought of Jin's hands on his body, tracing patterns over his skin and whispering into his ear: "I guess pretty rich boys are into that."
Not two weeks later, he was back in front of the shop, scuffing his foot outside the front door for what felt like forever until he finally pulled open the door and stepped inside.
"How can I help you?" the guy at the desk asked, but just then Jin came out from the back and saw him, eyes lighting up and lips widening into that heart-stopping smile.
"He's here for me," he drawled and put his arm around Yamashita's shoulder, leading him back to the small room he'd been in once before. "Have a seat," he told him, and took the chair in front of the worktable.
Dropping awkwardly into the chair against the wall, he bit his lip. "I haven't changed my mind," he blurted out.
"Not yet," Jin said, laughter in his voice. "What are you afraid of?"
"It's permanent."
"Like so few things in this world. Afraid you won't like it in a year?"
"No… Your work is beautiful. I can't imagine ever not liking it. But…"
"Uncomfortable with using your body as a canvas?" he asked after a pause, dragging his eyes over Yamashita's body. "Stand up," he commanded and Yamashita did it without thinking. Striding close, he pushed the jacket off Yamashita's arms, looking at him critically before fingering the hem of Yamashita's shirt and looking up almost shyly and tugging. Yamashita tried to control his breathing as he hesitantly pulled his t-shirt over his head, standing exposed, and a little cold, to Jin's serious gaze.
He was circling Yamashita again, fingers hovering just over his skin, almost touching and it was maddening. Taking a deep breath just as Jin's fingers passed over his pectorals brought them into contact, and Jin's eyes flashed up to his, a light blush over his cheeks that had Yamashita feeling good.
"And you'd make such a beautiful canvas," he finally said, voice barely audible. He began to map Yamashita's skin with both hands, speaking low about abstract lines and curves, hard here, soft there, to accentuate this hard line of muscle and that arc of soft flesh, cool colors, and Yamashita thought he might be going crazy with Jin's hands feather-light over his skin, low voice excited.
"Okay," he said, breathless, and Jin's eyes snapped up to his. "Okay. But small."
Jin's mouth curves up at the edges.
"And what do you want?" he asked.
"Anything. I want it to be yours."
Signing a waiver brought Yamashita back to reality and the nervousness had him biting his bottom lip. But Jin's eager face as he hovered over Yamashita's body in the chair grounded him and he just let it go. He picked a spot just over Yamashita's right pelvic bone, peeling away his pants and boxers from the area and grinning slyly at Yamashita when he saw that he was already hairless there.
"Here," he said, like Yamashita didn't have a choice, and maybe he didn't, really, because he just nodded dumbly and gripped the ball Jin had given him.
"This is going to hurt," he said, poised and ready, and god it did. How he'd ever thought it Jin's hands were gentle, he'd never know, and he grit his teeth against the pain. He could barely hear Jin's murmured encouragement as he worked, but the look on Jin's face worked better than any words could have, watching in awe as Jin's eyes flicked back and forth over his skin, smiling as it came together.
Jin walked him out when it was done, carefully going over the care instructions as they walked. "Come back when it's healed," he said shyly. "I'd really like to see it again."
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed that Jin hadn't said "you". In his fantasies Jin's hands were alternatingly gentle and forceful, pleasure and pain mixing and ripping his orgasm from him and leaving his gasping and trembling and wanting more.
It was two weeks before he went back, suddenly worried that he'd read this all wrong, that he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself if he went, but he just couldn't stay away. Jin's excited face when he showed up was worth it, though, Jin dragging him into his room and closing the door, turning and leaning against it and smiling in anticipation.
He moved slowly, pulling off his jacket and shirt and piling them on a chair before jerkily unbuttoning his pants, an embarrassed flush creeping up his face as he tried to figure out what came next. But Jin saved him that decision, stepping close with eager eyes to tug at his pants and pushed them to the floor. Yamashita hadn't been wearing boxers since the tattoo, the skin just a little too tender still to make them comfortable, and if Jin was surprised at the lack he didn't show it, just dropping to his knees to rub a thumb over the tattoo and Yamashita gasped, willing his body not to react.
"Beautiful," Jin said.
Yamashita forced a laugh. "Are you supposed to say that about your own work?"
Jin looked up with a sly smile, placing one hand on Yamashita's calf and sliding it up to just below his ass, smile widening at Yamashita's groan. "Maybe I was talking about you."
His face was so close and Yamashita could feel the blood rushing to his cock, trying for a world record, maybe. And when Jin leaned forward, still smiling, just enough to press his flattened tongue against the head, he thought maybe it had achieved its goal.
"Jin?" he groaned, then gasped as Jin opened his lips over the head and slipped his mouth over his length, and moved to tangle his fingers in Jin's hair. Hot wet heat over and over, Jin's tongue doing tricks over his sensitive skin and leaving him gasping for more as he pulled away and rose to his feet, yanking off his shirt before pressing up against Yamashita and leaning in for a messy kiss, tongue slipping wetly over Yamashita's lower lip until he let him in.
Like a flipped switch, Yamashita was shocked into action, hands reaching for Jin's pants, and they had a little fight, Jin trying to push himself against Yamashita and Yamashita trying to push him away to get his pants undone, but finally they were undone, and with just one shove they were around his ankles and he was stepping out of them, putting his weight on Yamashita until he got his balance, maneuvering him until he could shove Yamashita down into the chair in the middle of the room.
There was a lull in the fury that left Yamashita's head a little dizzy as it tried to catch up when Jin went to rummage around in his pants and came up with two small shiny packets. Then he was up in Yamashita's lap, kissing him for all he was worth as he ripped one of the packets open and reached behind himself, gasping into Yamashita's mouth enough to make Yamashita pull away to see what was happening. Jin balanced precariously, knees on either side of Yamashita's legs, one hand on his chest for support, the other hidden behind him doing things that made his face contort in a pain-pleasure blend that had Yamashita's fantasies roaring to the forefront, and he reached for the condom, opening it and rolling it over himself before using the rest of the lube to slick himself one more time.
As Jin finally sank down onto him, enveloping him in a hot, tight heat, Yamashita had to drop his head against the back of the chair, Jin's expressions and the way he was squeezing him too good together. Jin didn't seem to care, though, already moving, already picking up the pace, gasping quietly into the near-silence of the room, the only other sounds their movements against each other, and Yamashita had to grab onto his hips just to hold on for the ride. It was too fast, he thought, too fucking good and he'd be damned if he came alone, one hand slipping over Jin's hip to grasp his cock and move over it jerkily.
Gone were Jin's fluid movements; they were moving with no rhythm, pushing for release. One more upstroke, twist at the top Yamashita thought was due more to his sweaty palms than technique and Jin was clamping down around him, squeezing him almost too tight as he came over Yamashita's hand, and he had to shove up against the resistance, hard enough to break, he thought, before he actually did, orgasm breaking over him and leaving them shuddering and gasping together.
They were silent as they cleaned up, sharing embarrassed smiles and stilted laughter that made Yamashita flush with something other than lust. When Jin pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips and whispered, "I guess pretty rich boys are into that," Yamashita decided he might have a tattoo addiction after all, or something like it.
Characters/Pairing: Jin/Yamashita, brief Yamashita/OC (girl, omg)
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2,790
Warnings: Tattooing, a little Pi/Girl, Jin/Girl
Summary: Yamashita's never been that into tattoos, but his mind is changing.
Notes: Merry Christmas, Ri. XD Thanks to Amy for her encouragement. <3
---
Yamashita leaned up on one elbow, tracing the lines across her back in silent appreciation. He'd never been into tattoos before now, but ever since he'd started dating this girl, this bold American who wore them like art, he'd been entranced with hers. His favorite was the one on her back, starting at her left shoulder and cascading down along the side until it curved to spread across her lower back, a stunning, chaotic mess of blues and greens that stood out brightly against her pale, pale skin. The tattoo was beautiful and sprawling, just like the girl, all long, graceful limbs and artfully tousled hair that came down past her shoulders. He loved it best when she wore it in a low ponytail to the right, its dark mass a counterbalance to the bright blues and greens.
When he had worked his fingers back to the top to begin the tracing all over again, she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. "You like it?" she asked.
"Very much."
"And me?" she asked, smile turning coy.
"You too," he said. She laughed in delight and he leaned forward to kiss her, pulling back a bit when she turned over in his arms, pressing her bare chest against his.
"Good. You can come with me, then. I'm getting it continued."
"How?"
She took his hand in hers and put it on her left shoulder, drawing it down over her collarbone and around to cup her breast, grinning up at him as he squeezed on reflex.
"Wait," he said, leaning back to look at her incredulously. "You're going to let someone tattoo your tit?!"
Her laugh was loud and pleased. "My innocent boy. Yes. And you get to hold my hand."
---
He trailed into the shop behind her and watched as she greeted the staff like old friends. She answered his questioning look with a smile. "When you get a tattoo like this," she said, tapping her shoulder, "you make friends. It takes a while."
They set her up in a little room in the back and she stripped off her shirt as soon as the door was closed, sinking into the chair in the middle without a trace of embarrassment, while Yamashita looked around apprehensively. It looked a bit like a torture chamber he thought, and shuddered, the action causing his girlfriend to laugh.
"You're not the one getting stuck, don't worry."
Moments later when the person Yamashita assumed to be the tattoo artist came in, he showed no surprise at the half-naked state of his client, just sat down next to her and shook her hand.
"Tomo, this is Akanishi Jin. Jin, Yamashita Tomohisa."
Jin gave Yamashita a quick once-over. "Boyfriend?" he asked her, locking eyes with him and smiling a little.
"Yep."
"Hope he's got a good grip."
He watched carefully as Jin prepped her, the scent of alcohol suddenly strong in the air, and Jin spoke casually as he did so, probably trying to put her at ease, Yamashita thought. When Jin turned to a table, rummaging around on it, his girlfriend put her hand out and he took it, feeling it tremble slightly in his own and he squeezed it once and smiled at her.
Watching Jin work was amazing. So much mess, he thought, turns into so much beauty, ink and a little blood smearing over her skin as Jin carefully wiped it away, unveiling, before moving on. His movements were precise, and once he'd cleared the ink, Yamashita could clearly see the design, matching the flow and feel of the one on her back. He was sort of awed to watch the artist at work, a weird sort of affinity between them that came from Yamashita's constant admiration of his work, and he spared some time to watch Jin, too, soft hair falling around his face as he worked, letting out quick puffs of breath to get it out of his eyes, pink tongue coming out to flick against wide lips, just a flash, but distracting.
"Don't they usually outline first?" Yamashita whispered to her, and she gritted her teeth as she responded.
"I wanted him to freestyle it. I didn't want clean lines and he's the best in the area for freestyle tattooing." She let out a strained laugh as Jin pulled the tattoo gun away to dip it in the ink. "I had to sign a waiver."
Yamashita just watched, entranced as Jin's soft hand and the hard lines of the gun moved over his girlfriend's breast, cupping and pulling, absently brushing fingers over her nipple with a look of concentration on his face, and Yamashita felt a coiling in his stomach that shamed him.
That night he thought of Jin's soft hands moving over his girlfriend's tattooed chest, tracing his own artwork as he moved against her until Yamashita slicked his fingers with come.
A few months later the girl was gone, and he was mostly irritated to find that he missed the tattoo more than the girl. That was the only justification he could find for why he was standing outside the tattoo parlor, staring at the art in the windows, identifying the ones he felt were Jin's. The door opened and closed, and he was a little too engrossed to notice right away, only turning his head when he heard the flick of a lighter, to look straight into Jin's eyes.
Lips pursed around the stick, a pull of breath and quick red flash of burning tobacco, then white smoke hanging in the air as they stared at one another. Just a breath and Jin was waving his hand in his face, dispersing the lingering exhalation and smiling lazily at him.
"Thinking about getting a tattoo?" he asked.
Yamashita just shook his head vehemently, eyes widening as Jin came close and prowled around him, running light fingers over his leather jacket, the fabric of his shirt underneath.
"Of course not. Pretty rich boys like you don't get tattoos." Pursing his lips thoughtfully he tapped Yamashita's chest, just over his heart. "You could get one here over your heart like it means something." A tap against his inner arm. "Here and no one will know but you as long as you're careful. Hurts like a bitch, though. Tender. Can't make it easy to hide your shame. That's what it would be for you, right?" He stepped behind Yamashita and touched his back, just below his right shoulder. "But I could put one here, your shame on display for everyone but you. Just the knowledge of its existence. If you're into that," he added with a smirk as he slid back into Yamashita's view, leaning against the store front and taking a drag.
Yamashita felt that tight coiling again and brushed it aside. "Where are yours?" he asked, a little defensively.
Jin just smiled lazily - Yamashita's breath caught at that - and breathed out. "Don't have any. I'm not into pain." Then he laughed and winked at Yamashita. "Not mine, anyway."
He could feel his cheeks burning as he watched the laughter in Jin's eyes.
"Where's your girlfriend?" Jin asked suddenly. "That was you with Aria a few months ago, right?"
"I don't know. We're not together anymore," he said, shutting his eyes against the flood of images, Jin's hands on her body, his lips parting as he panted out his pleasure.
"Ah. Sorry," Jin said, cool façade suddenly breaking as he bit his lip and looked down, dropped his cigarette to the floor and watched his foot grind it out. "Well," he said after the awkward silence. "Gotta get back in. Come and see me sometime when you change your mind."
That night he thought of Jin's hands on his body, tracing patterns over his skin and whispering into his ear: "I guess pretty rich boys are into that."
Not two weeks later, he was back in front of the shop, scuffing his foot outside the front door for what felt like forever until he finally pulled open the door and stepped inside.
"How can I help you?" the guy at the desk asked, but just then Jin came out from the back and saw him, eyes lighting up and lips widening into that heart-stopping smile.
"He's here for me," he drawled and put his arm around Yamashita's shoulder, leading him back to the small room he'd been in once before. "Have a seat," he told him, and took the chair in front of the worktable.
Dropping awkwardly into the chair against the wall, he bit his lip. "I haven't changed my mind," he blurted out.
"Not yet," Jin said, laughter in his voice. "What are you afraid of?"
"It's permanent."
"Like so few things in this world. Afraid you won't like it in a year?"
"No… Your work is beautiful. I can't imagine ever not liking it. But…"
"Uncomfortable with using your body as a canvas?" he asked after a pause, dragging his eyes over Yamashita's body. "Stand up," he commanded and Yamashita did it without thinking. Striding close, he pushed the jacket off Yamashita's arms, looking at him critically before fingering the hem of Yamashita's shirt and looking up almost shyly and tugging. Yamashita tried to control his breathing as he hesitantly pulled his t-shirt over his head, standing exposed, and a little cold, to Jin's serious gaze.
He was circling Yamashita again, fingers hovering just over his skin, almost touching and it was maddening. Taking a deep breath just as Jin's fingers passed over his pectorals brought them into contact, and Jin's eyes flashed up to his, a light blush over his cheeks that had Yamashita feeling good.
"And you'd make such a beautiful canvas," he finally said, voice barely audible. He began to map Yamashita's skin with both hands, speaking low about abstract lines and curves, hard here, soft there, to accentuate this hard line of muscle and that arc of soft flesh, cool colors, and Yamashita thought he might be going crazy with Jin's hands feather-light over his skin, low voice excited.
"Okay," he said, breathless, and Jin's eyes snapped up to his. "Okay. But small."
Jin's mouth curves up at the edges.
"And what do you want?" he asked.
"Anything. I want it to be yours."
Signing a waiver brought Yamashita back to reality and the nervousness had him biting his bottom lip. But Jin's eager face as he hovered over Yamashita's body in the chair grounded him and he just let it go. He picked a spot just over Yamashita's right pelvic bone, peeling away his pants and boxers from the area and grinning slyly at Yamashita when he saw that he was already hairless there.
"Here," he said, like Yamashita didn't have a choice, and maybe he didn't, really, because he just nodded dumbly and gripped the ball Jin had given him.
"This is going to hurt," he said, poised and ready, and god it did. How he'd ever thought it Jin's hands were gentle, he'd never know, and he grit his teeth against the pain. He could barely hear Jin's murmured encouragement as he worked, but the look on Jin's face worked better than any words could have, watching in awe as Jin's eyes flicked back and forth over his skin, smiling as it came together.
Jin walked him out when it was done, carefully going over the care instructions as they walked. "Come back when it's healed," he said shyly. "I'd really like to see it again."
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed that Jin hadn't said "you". In his fantasies Jin's hands were alternatingly gentle and forceful, pleasure and pain mixing and ripping his orgasm from him and leaving his gasping and trembling and wanting more.
It was two weeks before he went back, suddenly worried that he'd read this all wrong, that he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself if he went, but he just couldn't stay away. Jin's excited face when he showed up was worth it, though, Jin dragging him into his room and closing the door, turning and leaning against it and smiling in anticipation.
He moved slowly, pulling off his jacket and shirt and piling them on a chair before jerkily unbuttoning his pants, an embarrassed flush creeping up his face as he tried to figure out what came next. But Jin saved him that decision, stepping close with eager eyes to tug at his pants and pushed them to the floor. Yamashita hadn't been wearing boxers since the tattoo, the skin just a little too tender still to make them comfortable, and if Jin was surprised at the lack he didn't show it, just dropping to his knees to rub a thumb over the tattoo and Yamashita gasped, willing his body not to react.
"Beautiful," Jin said.
Yamashita forced a laugh. "Are you supposed to say that about your own work?"
Jin looked up with a sly smile, placing one hand on Yamashita's calf and sliding it up to just below his ass, smile widening at Yamashita's groan. "Maybe I was talking about you."
His face was so close and Yamashita could feel the blood rushing to his cock, trying for a world record, maybe. And when Jin leaned forward, still smiling, just enough to press his flattened tongue against the head, he thought maybe it had achieved its goal.
"Jin?" he groaned, then gasped as Jin opened his lips over the head and slipped his mouth over his length, and moved to tangle his fingers in Jin's hair. Hot wet heat over and over, Jin's tongue doing tricks over his sensitive skin and leaving him gasping for more as he pulled away and rose to his feet, yanking off his shirt before pressing up against Yamashita and leaning in for a messy kiss, tongue slipping wetly over Yamashita's lower lip until he let him in.
Like a flipped switch, Yamashita was shocked into action, hands reaching for Jin's pants, and they had a little fight, Jin trying to push himself against Yamashita and Yamashita trying to push him away to get his pants undone, but finally they were undone, and with just one shove they were around his ankles and he was stepping out of them, putting his weight on Yamashita until he got his balance, maneuvering him until he could shove Yamashita down into the chair in the middle of the room.
There was a lull in the fury that left Yamashita's head a little dizzy as it tried to catch up when Jin went to rummage around in his pants and came up with two small shiny packets. Then he was up in Yamashita's lap, kissing him for all he was worth as he ripped one of the packets open and reached behind himself, gasping into Yamashita's mouth enough to make Yamashita pull away to see what was happening. Jin balanced precariously, knees on either side of Yamashita's legs, one hand on his chest for support, the other hidden behind him doing things that made his face contort in a pain-pleasure blend that had Yamashita's fantasies roaring to the forefront, and he reached for the condom, opening it and rolling it over himself before using the rest of the lube to slick himself one more time.
As Jin finally sank down onto him, enveloping him in a hot, tight heat, Yamashita had to drop his head against the back of the chair, Jin's expressions and the way he was squeezing him too good together. Jin didn't seem to care, though, already moving, already picking up the pace, gasping quietly into the near-silence of the room, the only other sounds their movements against each other, and Yamashita had to grab onto his hips just to hold on for the ride. It was too fast, he thought, too fucking good and he'd be damned if he came alone, one hand slipping over Jin's hip to grasp his cock and move over it jerkily.
Gone were Jin's fluid movements; they were moving with no rhythm, pushing for release. One more upstroke, twist at the top Yamashita thought was due more to his sweaty palms than technique and Jin was clamping down around him, squeezing him almost too tight as he came over Yamashita's hand, and he had to shove up against the resistance, hard enough to break, he thought, before he actually did, orgasm breaking over him and leaving them shuddering and gasping together.
They were silent as they cleaned up, sharing embarrassed smiles and stilted laughter that made Yamashita flush with something other than lust. When Jin pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips and whispered, "I guess pretty rich boys are into that," Yamashita decided he might have a tattoo addiction after all, or something like it.