Drink to This Night
Title: Drink to This Night
Characters/Group: Kamenashi Kazuya/Ueda Tatsuya [KAT-TUN]
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They ain't mine.
Word Count: 1,531
Summary: There are only a few people in the world Ueda would wait for. Kame is one of them.
Warning: PWP. Not proofread.
Notes: Originally inspired by KAT-TUN's One Drop PV, only you wouldn't know it by reading this. I wanted to make it beautiful like Kame and Uepi's love but I failed sort of spectacularly.
Descending arpeggios echo in the spacious room, each clear note rippling into the next as the sound bounces off the walls, the hardwood floor, slips past the white translucent curtains, flows out the open balcony doors. The soft golden light from the lamp by windows leads the music outside and lands on the surface of the still waters of the swimming pool on the ground level.
The cold night wind has snuck in, scattered the previously neatly-stacked music sheets into messy pools by the foot of the piano, but the pianist himself hasn’t noticed this yet, or has chosen not to. In either case the wind dares not to play mischief on the sheets that the young man is playing from, filled with handwritten notes resting neatly on the staffs.
If he notices the soft steps that enter the room and stop next to the bench, he doesn’t show any sign of it, and the newcomer waits patiently for the piece to end, allowing a soft smile to grace his lips at the familiar melody - he has heard it since it was a mere couple measures of hurriedly scribbled notes, scrawled down before its composer had to run out in the morning or be in the risk of being terribly late for a dance rehearsal. He has heard it in baby steps since then, has heard versions that woke him up gently in their warm, quiet hums in early mornings, versions that ended in a tremendous cacophony of mismatched piano keys in late afternoons, versions that never made it out of the backs of scrap paper between breaks.
But the song has been nurtured most on quiet, lonely nights when Kame is away shooting his dramas. It is Ueda’s sole companion on such occasions, something for his mind to run on, something that allows his restless, nimble fingers to work. The brightest flower born from starless nights. Kame knows that one day this song will join Ueda's repertoire and woo hundreds of thousands of fans. He wonders if it is too selfish of him to want to keep this song all to himself, because this is the first piece that he has witnessed from birth to full maturity while being with Ueda.
When Ueda finishes the last measure he turns on the bench to face Kame and when he looks up at the younger man, his bangs fall prettily into welcoming eyes and Kame can’t do anything but bend down and kiss him because nothing ends his very long and very tiring days full of scripts and interviews and camera flashes better than Ueda’s kisses. And Ueda lets him, because they haven’t been together alone like this properly in a month, what with his play rehearsals and boxing practices and Kame’s drama shooting and KAT-TUN’s releasing two singles within the span of a month and the series of preparatory meetings for their week-long Tokyo Dome concerts.
“I thought you had filming until morning.” Ueda entertwines their hands together and pulls Kame down to sit on the bench next to him. He doesn’t miss the way the younger man shivers slightly in the cold breeze, and goes over to shut the windows.
“The director let us go home early.” Kame watches Ueda pull the curtains shut properly and turns around on the bench to press down random piano keys, stops when he sees the bottle that he missed before. “What’s this?”
“They gave it to me after the PV shooting.” Ueda grins, pours the wine into a ready glass and holds it out. “Will Shizuku-kun have a sip?”
Kame puts on his serious expression, takes the glass and raises it to Ueda in a toast, swirls and sniffs the way he’s been taught like a good boy because he likes the way Ueda’s eyes are focusing, gleaming down at him, and takes a sip. After he swallows, Ueda leans in for a kiss, and pulls back thoughtfully.
“Kame makes it taste better.” They giggle, bodies tired but light from each other’s company. Kame picks up the bottle and the glass in one hand and grasps Ueda’s hand with the other and brings them to the bedroom, because it’s nearly six in the morning and he would rather not fall asleep on the couch, comfortable as it is, when there is a bed waiting for them.
It takes them longer than it really should because Ueda pushes him into a wall in the hallway at one point and kisses him and it almost makes him drop the bottle of wine (and make his knees melt) and sometime soon after, they’re too busy laughing to walk in a straight line; it’s not like they need alcohol to feel intoxicated. In the bedroom they sprawl, carefree, on Ueda’s king-sized bed.
When they’re almost finished with the bottle, Ueda has Kame undressed to his boxers, lying against cool, crisp sheets. Kame’s eyes are closed in bliss, covetously soaking up the attention that Ueda is paying on him, the sensual caress over all the right spots after he slips Kame out of his boxers, the hot lingering kisses along his jaw line that leads to his lips, and Kame is only too happy to respond.
They finally pause long enough to breathe properly and
Kame’s eyes drink up the sight in front of him; Ueda, lips swollen, eyes dark, the usually meticulously styled hair tousled, the single silver earring on his left ear twinkling like there’s a secret to be kept, skin smooth and perfect, strong arms supporting him as he hovers over the younger man. They’re panting for breath and the scent of the wine they drank just moments earlier paint the very air they breathe, and just makes the whole scene that much more enticing, more delicious.
Kame rolls them over so he’s straddling Ueda and works on undressing him, carefully unbuttoning each button, sucking and gently nibbling on his nipples, worshipping the warm bare skin stretched over toned abdomen as it is revealed slowly. He swirls his tongue in Ueda’s bellybutton, purrs in a way that is more of a vibration than a sound at the way Ueda’s hands tangle in his hair and gently tug him onwards.
Ueda’s soft sighs are the only other sound that accompanies the soft rustle of the sheets as Kame drags the remaining articles of clothing off Ueda’s body and settles in more comfortably, kissing Ueda’s thighs to his erection, licking up the length hotly.
They’ve established a rhythm of Kame swallowing at the right moments and Ueda guiding him to the right speed when Ueda pulls Kame up gently, up so they can lean in together for a kiss, then another. “How do you want to do this?”
Kame is too busy nuzzling Ueda’s jawline, toying with his earring, to answer but the way he blindly gropes for the lube on the bedside table and hands it to Ueda is one anyway.
Ueda enjoys his share of rough sex, fast and hard when time is on their heels. They build up up up, so fast that it’s dizzying, breathtaking, absolutely maddening before they come crashing down faster and it’s blinding, mind-blowing, addicting. And Ueda knows Kame likes it too, but sometimes, when it comes to Kame (or maybe it’s usually when it comes to Kame) Ueda likes to spoil him a little bit (or maybe a lot) and takes it slow, keeping the passion to a simmer, ample numbers of leisurely kisses, some sloppy and wet, some light as butterflies.
Ueda takes his time coating his fingers, carefully slides one inside Kame, then another, then another. The way Kame moans and arches a little bit when Ueda hits that spot makes his stomach dip pleasantly and he repeats the motion, just to see Kame arch a little more.
It’s always glorious when they’re joined together, out of this world and incomparable to any experience Ueda has ever had with anyone. They’re both so close, limbs tingling with an overload of sensations and exhaustion.
Ueda starts out slow, sliding nearly completely out before moving in again in fluid, practised motion before speeding up, faster faster.
Kame comes first, Ueda helping him along with firm, steady strokes and he tightens impossibly around Ueda when he does. Ueda can’t remember when he follows Kame shortly after but he does remember the magnificent stars bursting behind his eyelids and the secure, solid grasp of Kame’s hand on his own (and that’s all he needs, anyway).
By the time they’ve regained proper breathing and their hearts have steadied to a regular pace and Kame has pulled up the sheets to cover the both of them, morning rays of light are peeking in between the small gaps between the curtains. But neither gives notice, focuses instead on settling comfortably against each other and welcoming sleep as it envelopes them and tucks them away from the conscious world.
Ueda glances down at Kame’s sleeping figure, on the border to falling asleep himself, and wraps a possessive arm around his waist to draw him closer, thankful that they don’t have to go into work until the afternoon.
It’s always worth waiting up for Kame anyway.
Characters/Group: Kamenashi Kazuya/Ueda Tatsuya [KAT-TUN]
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They ain't mine.
Word Count: 1,531
Summary: There are only a few people in the world Ueda would wait for. Kame is one of them.
Warning: PWP. Not proofread.
Notes: Originally inspired by KAT-TUN's One Drop PV, only you wouldn't know it by reading this. I wanted to make it beautiful like Kame and Uepi's love but I failed sort of spectacularly.
Descending arpeggios echo in the spacious room, each clear note rippling into the next as the sound bounces off the walls, the hardwood floor, slips past the white translucent curtains, flows out the open balcony doors. The soft golden light from the lamp by windows leads the music outside and lands on the surface of the still waters of the swimming pool on the ground level.
The cold night wind has snuck in, scattered the previously neatly-stacked music sheets into messy pools by the foot of the piano, but the pianist himself hasn’t noticed this yet, or has chosen not to. In either case the wind dares not to play mischief on the sheets that the young man is playing from, filled with handwritten notes resting neatly on the staffs.
If he notices the soft steps that enter the room and stop next to the bench, he doesn’t show any sign of it, and the newcomer waits patiently for the piece to end, allowing a soft smile to grace his lips at the familiar melody - he has heard it since it was a mere couple measures of hurriedly scribbled notes, scrawled down before its composer had to run out in the morning or be in the risk of being terribly late for a dance rehearsal. He has heard it in baby steps since then, has heard versions that woke him up gently in their warm, quiet hums in early mornings, versions that ended in a tremendous cacophony of mismatched piano keys in late afternoons, versions that never made it out of the backs of scrap paper between breaks.
But the song has been nurtured most on quiet, lonely nights when Kame is away shooting his dramas. It is Ueda’s sole companion on such occasions, something for his mind to run on, something that allows his restless, nimble fingers to work. The brightest flower born from starless nights. Kame knows that one day this song will join Ueda's repertoire and woo hundreds of thousands of fans. He wonders if it is too selfish of him to want to keep this song all to himself, because this is the first piece that he has witnessed from birth to full maturity while being with Ueda.
When Ueda finishes the last measure he turns on the bench to face Kame and when he looks up at the younger man, his bangs fall prettily into welcoming eyes and Kame can’t do anything but bend down and kiss him because nothing ends his very long and very tiring days full of scripts and interviews and camera flashes better than Ueda’s kisses. And Ueda lets him, because they haven’t been together alone like this properly in a month, what with his play rehearsals and boxing practices and Kame’s drama shooting and KAT-TUN’s releasing two singles within the span of a month and the series of preparatory meetings for their week-long Tokyo Dome concerts.
“I thought you had filming until morning.” Ueda entertwines their hands together and pulls Kame down to sit on the bench next to him. He doesn’t miss the way the younger man shivers slightly in the cold breeze, and goes over to shut the windows.
“The director let us go home early.” Kame watches Ueda pull the curtains shut properly and turns around on the bench to press down random piano keys, stops when he sees the bottle that he missed before. “What’s this?”
“They gave it to me after the PV shooting.” Ueda grins, pours the wine into a ready glass and holds it out. “Will Shizuku-kun have a sip?”
Kame puts on his serious expression, takes the glass and raises it to Ueda in a toast, swirls and sniffs the way he’s been taught like a good boy because he likes the way Ueda’s eyes are focusing, gleaming down at him, and takes a sip. After he swallows, Ueda leans in for a kiss, and pulls back thoughtfully.
“Kame makes it taste better.” They giggle, bodies tired but light from each other’s company. Kame picks up the bottle and the glass in one hand and grasps Ueda’s hand with the other and brings them to the bedroom, because it’s nearly six in the morning and he would rather not fall asleep on the couch, comfortable as it is, when there is a bed waiting for them.
It takes them longer than it really should because Ueda pushes him into a wall in the hallway at one point and kisses him and it almost makes him drop the bottle of wine (and make his knees melt) and sometime soon after, they’re too busy laughing to walk in a straight line; it’s not like they need alcohol to feel intoxicated. In the bedroom they sprawl, carefree, on Ueda’s king-sized bed.
When they’re almost finished with the bottle, Ueda has Kame undressed to his boxers, lying against cool, crisp sheets. Kame’s eyes are closed in bliss, covetously soaking up the attention that Ueda is paying on him, the sensual caress over all the right spots after he slips Kame out of his boxers, the hot lingering kisses along his jaw line that leads to his lips, and Kame is only too happy to respond.
They finally pause long enough to breathe properly and
Kame’s eyes drink up the sight in front of him; Ueda, lips swollen, eyes dark, the usually meticulously styled hair tousled, the single silver earring on his left ear twinkling like there’s a secret to be kept, skin smooth and perfect, strong arms supporting him as he hovers over the younger man. They’re panting for breath and the scent of the wine they drank just moments earlier paint the very air they breathe, and just makes the whole scene that much more enticing, more delicious.
Kame rolls them over so he’s straddling Ueda and works on undressing him, carefully unbuttoning each button, sucking and gently nibbling on his nipples, worshipping the warm bare skin stretched over toned abdomen as it is revealed slowly. He swirls his tongue in Ueda’s bellybutton, purrs in a way that is more of a vibration than a sound at the way Ueda’s hands tangle in his hair and gently tug him onwards.
Ueda’s soft sighs are the only other sound that accompanies the soft rustle of the sheets as Kame drags the remaining articles of clothing off Ueda’s body and settles in more comfortably, kissing Ueda’s thighs to his erection, licking up the length hotly.
They’ve established a rhythm of Kame swallowing at the right moments and Ueda guiding him to the right speed when Ueda pulls Kame up gently, up so they can lean in together for a kiss, then another. “How do you want to do this?”
Kame is too busy nuzzling Ueda’s jawline, toying with his earring, to answer but the way he blindly gropes for the lube on the bedside table and hands it to Ueda is one anyway.
Ueda enjoys his share of rough sex, fast and hard when time is on their heels. They build up up up, so fast that it’s dizzying, breathtaking, absolutely maddening before they come crashing down faster and it’s blinding, mind-blowing, addicting. And Ueda knows Kame likes it too, but sometimes, when it comes to Kame (or maybe it’s usually when it comes to Kame) Ueda likes to spoil him a little bit (or maybe a lot) and takes it slow, keeping the passion to a simmer, ample numbers of leisurely kisses, some sloppy and wet, some light as butterflies.
Ueda takes his time coating his fingers, carefully slides one inside Kame, then another, then another. The way Kame moans and arches a little bit when Ueda hits that spot makes his stomach dip pleasantly and he repeats the motion, just to see Kame arch a little more.
It’s always glorious when they’re joined together, out of this world and incomparable to any experience Ueda has ever had with anyone. They’re both so close, limbs tingling with an overload of sensations and exhaustion.
Ueda starts out slow, sliding nearly completely out before moving in again in fluid, practised motion before speeding up, faster faster.
Kame comes first, Ueda helping him along with firm, steady strokes and he tightens impossibly around Ueda when he does. Ueda can’t remember when he follows Kame shortly after but he does remember the magnificent stars bursting behind his eyelids and the secure, solid grasp of Kame’s hand on his own (and that’s all he needs, anyway).
By the time they’ve regained proper breathing and their hearts have steadied to a regular pace and Kame has pulled up the sheets to cover the both of them, morning rays of light are peeking in between the small gaps between the curtains. But neither gives notice, focuses instead on settling comfortably against each other and welcoming sleep as it envelopes them and tucks them away from the conscious world.
Ueda glances down at Kame’s sleeping figure, on the border to falling asleep himself, and wraps a possessive arm around his waist to draw him closer, thankful that they don’t have to go into work until the afternoon.
It’s always worth waiting up for Kame anyway.