Hey! Say! JUMPPairing:
Okamoto Keito/Yamada RyosukeRating:
His kiss is searing, biting through the layers of bitter cold to taste the sweetness of Keito’s lips. Lips memorizing every corner, every inch as he backs the older boy to a wall, stripping off his jacket as they move. He needs more skin, more contact, to feel the burn of flesh on flesh as the ticking of their hearts begin to beat as one.Notes:
So it seems as thought I'm starting a pattern of writing porn for my favorite boys' birthdays?? I don't know how that started happening, but it did. Originally I was going to write something different, but changing jobs and moving halfway around the world kind of made me run out of time soooooo porn it is? Happy birthday Keito???
He’s always been seen as the prettiest member. The one the fangirls scream over when he rolls his hips in time with the music, one hand poised over the waistband of his pants to bring attention to the sensual movements of his waist. His smirk, his smile, they’re golden, shining in the bright lights of the domes and the cameras capture them with perfect precision with each passing moment.
Girls worship him like a god, bowing before his might, his power. They shield their eyes as he passes, a halo around his head so that none may see the emotions crossing his features. He’s beauty. He’s grace. His confidence is legendary to all that have seen him on a variety program. Yamada’s impatience is his downfall.
His kiss is searing, biting through the layers of bitter cold to taste the sweetness of Keito’s lips. Lips memorizing every corner, every inch as he backs the older boy to a wall, stripping off his jacket as they move. He needs more skin, more contact, to feel the burn of flesh on flesh as the ticking of their hearts begin to beat as one.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” Yamada says, nipping at Keito’s neck.
His heart freezes, the time hanging between them as the rain patters against the side of his apartment. The sound a rhythmic beat that reminds him that time isn’t frozen, only Yamada’s heart.
Keito’s brows furrow. He tends to be a book, one Yamada has read cover to cover multiple times, able to flip to his favorite pages without a second of uncertainty. But the author has torn out the end, leaving the pages blank as if to write a new ending to the story he knows so well.
He licks his lips, leaning in to nip at Yamada’s ear lobes, pulling a moan from his lips. “Let’s have some fun.”
He doesn’t waste a moment, stripping Keito out of his own jacket before pulling that pesky shirt over his head, lips meeting once more. Keito kisses the pain away, the uncertainty. That he’s making the right decision and won’t come to regret this in the morning. That he should have built up a more personal, romantic relationship first before jumping into the lion’s den.
“Slow down,” Keito says between kisses, hands trying to push Yamada away, but he isn’t deterred even with the distance.
“I may never get this chance again,” Yamada says, breathless, dragging a finger down Keito’s bare chest and enjoying the shiver that follows.
He slowly unclasps each of his buttons, pulling his shirt open more and more to show off the toned muscles the agency seems so proud of, although they’re by Yamada’s own hard work. Lust radiates off of Keito, his eyes focused on Yamada’s hands freeing the bits of skin from the confines of his clothes.
“Follow me,” he says, pulling his shirt back around his person as he coyly motions for Keito to follow him.
It’s not a far distance, but enough to drive him insane. His fingers itch to map out the confines of Keito’s skin, to kiss his own muscled frame, but he keeps his hands to himself for now. He doesn’t want to scare the boy back into liking girls.
He pushes Keito back, gently, so he falls into the bed, noting the top button of his jeans is already undone. His hands extend downward as Keito palms the growing bulge in his pants, the material looking far tighter than it did when they entered Yamada’s home.
Yamada’s fingers unclasp the last button of his shirt, pulling the fabric open and letting gravity bring it to its new home on the floor. A thumbs slip under the band of his jeans, hips rolling to the music that occupies his brain as his other hand skirts over his abs.
“Fuck, Yama-chan,” Keito moans, hips buckling on the bed.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” Yamada breathes out, thumb flicking open the button of his jeans. “I’ve dreamed about you fucking me for months.”
His body follows the old choreography he did for Kaito Y-ellow Voice’s group song, hips swaying as his fingers pull the zipper down, thumbs dragging his pants and underwear lower and lower over his hips.
“You’d finger me slowly,” he continues, “making me cry out until you would finally add another finger. One after the other until I could take your massive cock in my ass.” His pants go first, finding their place among the floor with his shirt. “You’d go so slow, making sure I was well adjusted until you pounded me into the bed, making your name the only word my mouth could form.”
He can see Keito’s breath hitch. His own fingers work open his own zipper to tug his pants and underwear over his hips, freeing his cock from the confines of his own clothes. His hand wraps around his hardening member, stroking it in time with Yamada’s voice.
Pride surges within Yamada’s body when he sees how hard Keito was behind his jeans. How much Keito’s body wants him, how his skin flushes under Yamada’s gaze, unable to look directly at him, but unable to look away. Keito may have dated girls in the past, but the way his looks, cheeks a rosy pink, Yamada can tell he’s never seen a man strip for him before.
Yamada runs a hand over his bulge, moaning at the sudden contact. “You’d kiss me. You’d kiss me as I came, a moaning mess on the sheets as you fucked me through my orgasm, shooting your sperm deep in my ass.” He can feel the pre-cum seeping out, wetting his underwear but he doesn’t care. Keito’s eyes are the only things he knows in this moment. “We wouldn’t leave my place for days. Just eat and fuck until someone finally comes to check if we’re alive or not.”
“You’re not fair,” Keito says. His cock is hard in his hands, and Yamada aches to touch it. “I-I don’t-”
“I’ll help,” Yamada says, finally pulling his underwear over his hips, stepping out from both it and his jeans. “I’ll teach you how I like it.” He takes his lube from the bedside table and straddles Keito’s lap. “All I want is for you to enjoy this.”
He fingers himself, moaning into Keito’s skin with each digit he works into his ass. Those beautiful hands hold onto his waist, but not enough to keep Yamada from grinding onto Keito’s cock, pulling moans from the older boy’s mouth. It’s music to Yamada’s ears as he works himself open, prodding as deep as he can into his ass.
“I want to ride you,” he moans, pulling his lubed fingers from his hole, aching at the sudden loss of contact. “You’ll love watching my ass bounce up and down. It feels so good.”
He gets off of Keito’s lap, just enough time for Keito to reposition himself so he’s lying down before Yamada pounces again, kissing him once more. He can’t help it. He needs it. Keito’s lips are an addiction he can’t break himself of, no matter how he tries. His skin and all of its angles is a wonderland he wants to explore, but they have time. He has faith in his hips, and the magic they bring. Keito won’t be able to live without them once Yamada is done with him.
He rolls a condom onto Keito’s cock, lathering it in lube before sliding down in. He enjoys how Keito’s face contorts, the pleasure taking over his features as his cock pushes through the tense ring of muscles. Down, down, down Yamada goes, breath catching in his throat until he bottoms out, unable to move for a moment.
The world around him spins, and Yamada has never felt more full. He loves it. Loves the way that Keito fills him up to the brim, and he could get off on only having Keito’s cock in his ass.
But it wouldn’t be fun. He wouldn’t get to see Keito’s face, how the pleasure would run through him like a lightning bolt. How his cock would twitch within Yamada’s ass. How Keito would look cuming, the pleasure too much for him as the world shook below him.
Yamada has had other partners before, but there’s something about the way that Keito feels in him he can’t explain. It feels natural. Whether from their friendship or something deeper, he knows that nothing will compare to this evening.
Yamada tests the water, rolling his hips and earning a beautiful moan from Keito’s mouth. Again and again he goes, building up a little more speed as he goes, moaning each time Keito brushes against his prostate. Each jolt of pleasure is enough to melt him, but he hold on strong, eyes always trained on Keito. He wants to knows the features of his face, the emotions he’s feeling, until the end.
In a flash, his world changes. He loses himself as his back hits the mattress, not understanding how he got there. There’s only Keito, the sweet feeling of his lips on his, stealing the breath from his lungs. Messy, sloppy, just the way he likes it, and he groans each time he can feel Keito’s cock twitch within him.
“You’ve always been a show off, Yama-chan,” Keito groans. He rolls his hips, and Yamada wants to scream, to do anything. There’s a magic to Keito’s hips that brings tears to his eyes. “Let me be the center for right now.”
Just like his fantasy, there’s no slowness to Keito’s hips. He fucks him mercilessly, a hand bearing holes in Yamada’s hips with how tightly Keito grasp it. Every so often Keito changes it up, pulling out so just the tip is in his ass before slamming into him, and all Yamada can do is cry out as the pleasure overwhelms him.
“You’re so tight,” Keito moans.
He hand moves from Yamada’s hips to his cock, jerking him in time with each of his thrusts, and Yamada is a mess on his sheets. He’s unable to do anything except wrap his arms around Keito’s neck, pulling him closer to moan through sloppily placed kisses.
The breathlessness overtakes him. How sweet and overwhelming it is with every thrust into him. With Keito’s hair curtaining around them, it’s a wonderland just for the two of them. He can’t contain his hips, how they roll up to meet Keito’s every thrust. How his moans reverberate throughout the bedroom, going straight to Yamada’s own cock.
He isn’t ready when the pressure starts building within the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t want this to end. He wants to stay there, wrapped around Keito’s little pinky finger as he changes the angle, prodding his prostate with each beautiful thrust into his body. Those skillful hands work every moan from his lips until the very last drop.
But they can’t last. Keito’s hard thrusts are getting erratic. His breath coming and going like a gust of wind. His voice moans Yamada’s name over and over again. Yamada wants to beg, to plead, to do anything to get Keito to push him over the edge. He wants this. He wants to cum from Keito’s cock, his hips working wonders on his body, and he knows Keito would give him the world to see him smile. Just as Keito knows he would do anything to make him happy in return.
And Keito knows just the words to push him over.
“Cum for me, Ryosuke.”
Yamada cries out. His first name in Keito’s beautiful low voice too much for him and his world comes crashing around him. His body drinks in the sweet, sweet taste of Keito’s release, their lips skirting over their sensitive, sweat soaked skin.
They slowly come down from their high, Keito pulling out and collapsing on the bed next to him, rapid breathing cooling as he pulls Yamada closer to his heated body. Their brains slowly return to reality, their bodies reveling in the aftershock of their pleasure.
A slap resounds within the room.
“Ow,” Keito says, rubbing the spot he was hit.
“Fuck you,” Yamada says, smacking him once more for good measure. “You should have told me you knew how to fuck guys or I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself.”
“But then I wouldn’t have been able to see you look so cute,” Keito says, trying to steal a kiss but failing. “Aw, don’t be like that, Yama-chan.”
“I thought you only had experience with girls,” Yamada huffs. “You’re so rude.”
“And you’re cute when you’re angry,” Keito says, nipping at Yamada’s neck. “Be nice. I want to live out one of my fantasies involving us as well.”
As much as it peaks Yamada’s interest, he doesn’t bite. He doesn’t want to give Keito the satisfaction that he’s curious. Keito doesn’t seem to be deterred by his lack of response.
“It involves me and you,” Keito says, inching down the bed and kissing the muscled flesh as he goes, “and something else.” His eyes are so focused, so haunting, and it’s hard to ignore the lust radiating from them.
He is entranced. It’s hard to look away as Keito’s hand rubs small circles onto Yamada’s hip. Yamada licks his lips, mind knowing he won’t regret asking for more information.
“Go on,” he says.
The smile Yamada receives is one he knows he’ll remember for decades as round two begins.