Fic, Tackey & Tsubasa, World Wing Whatever
Title: World Wing Whatever [Tackey/Tsubasa]
Rating/Warnings: R for Tsubasa humoring Tackey.
Summary: Tackey and Tsubasa are in a fight. Maybe.
AN: for Jemz and Beth's one-hour porn challenge.
anamuan | crystallekil | iverin | jackoweskla | ky_rin | mousapelli | nicocoer | pastdazed | pearljemz | snoozing_kitten
World Wing Whatever
Tackey is sitting on the couch, boots off but too tired to go any farther, when Tsubasa comes into the room and stands in front of him, looming over him with his arms crossed.
Turns out Tackey isn’t too tired to smirk. “What’s up, Tsuba-chan?”
“I want to stop fighting,” Tsubasa says.
Tackey raises an eyebrow. “Are we having a fight?”
“Aren’t we?” Tsubasa’s mouth thins. “Because I haven’t seen you in days, we haven’t talked properly in weeks, and are we ever going to record or tour together ever again?”
“You’re just as busy as I am,” Tackey retorts, letting his eyes slip shut and leaning his head back against the couch, suddenly very tired.
“Nobody’s as busy as you are,” Tsubasa growls. Tackey feels the couch shift as Tsubasa’s weight settles on it, and when he opens his eyes again, Tsubasa has a knee on either side of Tackey’s thighs, bracing himself with hands on the back of the couch on either side of Tackey’s head.
“I’m an idol,” Tackey says, thinking about shoving Tsubasa so that he falls off the couch and maybe cracks his head on something.
“And who sets up all these special projects?” Tsubasa asks silkily, eyes hard. “Don’t pretend like your schedule is anybody’s fault but your own.”
“And what about you?” Tackey snaps back. He fists his hands against the couch so he really doesn’t shove Tsubasa, because Johnny will fire him for killing his partner. “Your little trips to Spain and your World Wing Whatever! That’s exactly the same!”
“We weren’t even together at Countdown!” Tsubasa growls, leaning in even closer. “You’d rather be surrounded by a mob of underage juniors!”
Something about the seriousness with which Tsubasa makes that accusation makes Tackey chuckle tiredly, breaking the tension. He unfists his hand from the fabric of the couch and reaches up to rub his palm against Tsubasa’s cheek.
“Jealous?” he asks.
“Hmph.” Tsubasa relaxes enough to actually sit in Tackey’s lap, although he’s still frowning. “What do they have that I don’t?”
“The bodies of seventeen-year-olds?” Tackey teases, and Tsubasa rolls his eyes. Tackey moves his hand back to tug at Tsubasa’s hair, too short again. “We aren’t having a fight.” Tsubasa raises an eyebrow, and Tackey amends, “Well, you aren’t. Maybe I was.”
“Wanted some attention?” Tsubasa asks, and Tackey pulls his head down to kiss him rather than answering.
“Come on,” he murmurs against Tsubasa’s mouth after a few minutes. “Take me to bed and I’ll let you make it up to me.”
Tsubasa calls him a brat and nips his lower lip, but hauls both of them off the couch and to their bedroom all the same.
It has been a while, long enough that Tackey winces when Tsubasa pushes the second finger in, but Tsubasa doesn’t slow down. Caught by the heat and the competition in Tsubasa’s eyes, Tackey doesn’t ask him to.
“Mmm,” Tsubasa murmurs in Tackey’s ear as he slides inside him, slow enough to feel all of Tackey’s shivers as Tackey wraps arms tight around Tsubasa’s neck. “I missed you, Hide.”
“Me too,” Tackey answers, voice thin, just before Tsubasa starts to thrust and Tackey sinks teeth into Tsubasa’s shoulder to muffle his cries. Tackey hangs on and lets Tsubasa do all the work, but Tsubasa indulges him, shifting his weight onto one elbow to get a hand between them.
Tackey’s cock jumps in Tsubasa’s hand when he gets a good grip, and it only takes a few minutes to work Tackey over the edge once he gets his hips in rhythm with his hand. Tsubasa sinks back onto both elbows and lets go of his own control while Tackey is still shivering underneath him, burying his face in the curve of Tackey’s neck and coming with the scent of Tackey strong in his nose.
“So easy,” Tsubasa purrs when he’s spooned up against Tackey’s back, warm and content for the moment. Tackey reaches back to slap his hip.
“You’re a cheater,” Tackey grumbles, “with your damn Spanish rhythms and whatever.”
“That’s World Wing Whatever to you,” Tsubasa teases back, nibbling on the back of Tackey’s neck until Tackey is a puddle in his arms. “So, after Kakumei’s over, we’ll schedule something together, right?”
“Um,” Tackey’s squirming goes from the good kind to the embarrassed kind. “I may or may not have just set up the dates for this year’s Enbujou…but you still love me, right?”
Tsubasa sighs and pinches Tackey’s nipple until he squeaks, but doesn’t bother to start another fight about it. It’s Tackey after all, it can’t be helped. Tsubasa just grins to himself as he thinks of all the things he can do when Tackey is exhausted from keeping up with all those seventeen-year-old bodies and can’t defend himself.
Rating/Warnings: R for Tsubasa humoring Tackey.
Summary: Tackey and Tsubasa are in a fight. Maybe.
AN: for Jemz and Beth's one-hour porn challenge.
anamuan | crystallekil | iverin | jackoweskla | ky_rin | mousapelli | nicocoer | pastdazed | pearljemz | snoozing_kitten
World Wing Whatever
Tackey is sitting on the couch, boots off but too tired to go any farther, when Tsubasa comes into the room and stands in front of him, looming over him with his arms crossed.
Turns out Tackey isn’t too tired to smirk. “What’s up, Tsuba-chan?”
“I want to stop fighting,” Tsubasa says.
Tackey raises an eyebrow. “Are we having a fight?”
“Aren’t we?” Tsubasa’s mouth thins. “Because I haven’t seen you in days, we haven’t talked properly in weeks, and are we ever going to record or tour together ever again?”
“You’re just as busy as I am,” Tackey retorts, letting his eyes slip shut and leaning his head back against the couch, suddenly very tired.
“Nobody’s as busy as you are,” Tsubasa growls. Tackey feels the couch shift as Tsubasa’s weight settles on it, and when he opens his eyes again, Tsubasa has a knee on either side of Tackey’s thighs, bracing himself with hands on the back of the couch on either side of Tackey’s head.
“I’m an idol,” Tackey says, thinking about shoving Tsubasa so that he falls off the couch and maybe cracks his head on something.
“And who sets up all these special projects?” Tsubasa asks silkily, eyes hard. “Don’t pretend like your schedule is anybody’s fault but your own.”
“And what about you?” Tackey snaps back. He fists his hands against the couch so he really doesn’t shove Tsubasa, because Johnny will fire him for killing his partner. “Your little trips to Spain and your World Wing Whatever! That’s exactly the same!”
“We weren’t even together at Countdown!” Tsubasa growls, leaning in even closer. “You’d rather be surrounded by a mob of underage juniors!”
Something about the seriousness with which Tsubasa makes that accusation makes Tackey chuckle tiredly, breaking the tension. He unfists his hand from the fabric of the couch and reaches up to rub his palm against Tsubasa’s cheek.
“Jealous?” he asks.
“Hmph.” Tsubasa relaxes enough to actually sit in Tackey’s lap, although he’s still frowning. “What do they have that I don’t?”
“The bodies of seventeen-year-olds?” Tackey teases, and Tsubasa rolls his eyes. Tackey moves his hand back to tug at Tsubasa’s hair, too short again. “We aren’t having a fight.” Tsubasa raises an eyebrow, and Tackey amends, “Well, you aren’t. Maybe I was.”
“Wanted some attention?” Tsubasa asks, and Tackey pulls his head down to kiss him rather than answering.
“Come on,” he murmurs against Tsubasa’s mouth after a few minutes. “Take me to bed and I’ll let you make it up to me.”
Tsubasa calls him a brat and nips his lower lip, but hauls both of them off the couch and to their bedroom all the same.
It has been a while, long enough that Tackey winces when Tsubasa pushes the second finger in, but Tsubasa doesn’t slow down. Caught by the heat and the competition in Tsubasa’s eyes, Tackey doesn’t ask him to.
“Mmm,” Tsubasa murmurs in Tackey’s ear as he slides inside him, slow enough to feel all of Tackey’s shivers as Tackey wraps arms tight around Tsubasa’s neck. “I missed you, Hide.”
“Me too,” Tackey answers, voice thin, just before Tsubasa starts to thrust and Tackey sinks teeth into Tsubasa’s shoulder to muffle his cries. Tackey hangs on and lets Tsubasa do all the work, but Tsubasa indulges him, shifting his weight onto one elbow to get a hand between them.
Tackey’s cock jumps in Tsubasa’s hand when he gets a good grip, and it only takes a few minutes to work Tackey over the edge once he gets his hips in rhythm with his hand. Tsubasa sinks back onto both elbows and lets go of his own control while Tackey is still shivering underneath him, burying his face in the curve of Tackey’s neck and coming with the scent of Tackey strong in his nose.
“So easy,” Tsubasa purrs when he’s spooned up against Tackey’s back, warm and content for the moment. Tackey reaches back to slap his hip.
“You’re a cheater,” Tackey grumbles, “with your damn Spanish rhythms and whatever.”
“That’s World Wing Whatever to you,” Tsubasa teases back, nibbling on the back of Tackey’s neck until Tackey is a puddle in his arms. “So, after Kakumei’s over, we’ll schedule something together, right?”
“Um,” Tackey’s squirming goes from the good kind to the embarrassed kind. “I may or may not have just set up the dates for this year’s Enbujou…but you still love me, right?”
Tsubasa sighs and pinches Tackey’s nipple until he squeaks, but doesn’t bother to start another fight about it. It’s Tackey after all, it can’t be helped. Tsubasa just grins to himself as he thinks of all the things he can do when Tackey is exhausted from keeping up with all those seventeen-year-old bodies and can’t defend himself.