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[personal profile] songbirdspeaks
Title: (Oh girl you're) Beautiful
Fandom: Johnny's & Associates (KAT-TUN, Kanjani8)
Pairing: Akanishi Jin/Taguchi Junnosuke/Yokoyama You; on-screen Jin/Yoko and Junno/Yoko, off-screen established Jin/Junno
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4540
Warnings: Crossdressing, threesome
Summary: Beauty is an underrated virtue; on the set of Yukan Club Jin and Junno learn the power of lipstick and a wig from Yoko.
Notes: Suzuki Emi played Karen in Yukan Club, as a reminder. Set in autumn 2007 during the midst of filming for Yukan Club.



They'd gone their separate ways after filming, Yoko to get dressed to go out, Junno to go to dinner with Suzuki-chan, Jin to do one more take. Jin was on his way from the studio to their group trailer after a smoke break, rubbing ash-stinky fingers through his hair and turning his lighter end over end distractedly. The door to the dressing room he shared with Yoko and Junno was closed; he clicked his tongue.

"Yoko, you take fucking forever," he complained, and leaned on the doorknob, fully prepared to whine until Yoko gave in. He yelped when the door swung in; Yoko liked to lock the damn door closed. There was a squawk, and Jin looked up.

"What the fucking fuck," he breathed, "this is the boys’ dressing room, lady."

"Um," said the girl in the corner of the room, her back to him. The voice was familiar. "Can you…"

“Yeah,” he answered, after a beat of silence, “yeah, whatever, hurry u—“ He froze.

He knew the face he could see from the mirror.

“Oh my god,” he said, “seriously?”

“Fuck you,” she—he—said, without any heat.

“If you really want to,” he admitted, easily.

“Not—not really what I meant.”

“Really?”

“…no,” she admitted, so quietly he could barely hear her.

A beat of Yoko’s fingers twitching at the hem of his skirt, Jin’s fingers twitching on the doorknob.

“No, it wasn’t,” Yoko repeats, more sure.

Jin stepped inside, and locked the door behind him. “Then get over here.”

“No. I’m not—I’m not ready yet.”

Jin rolled his eyes. “All right, fine, whatever, do whatever you need to do to feel pretty.”

Yoko glanced back at him, gratitude in his expression, and went back to adjusting his boobs. Jin scratched at his nose, casually, and pulled out his chair. He kicked his bag out of the way viciously and sat while Yoko tied the strap of his dress over his shoulder. Yoko pointedly ignored him as he sat at his vanity mirror, all grace and delicately folded limbs that made Jin swallow, a little. Yoko pinned the long bangs of his wig out of the way and his long, white fingers drew Jin’s eyes as he sorted through his things for a tube of lipstick. Jin’s eyes and the lipstick traced Yoko’s bottom lip slowly, and Yoko kissed in the direction of Jin’s hard-eyed reflection with a pop bordering on obscene. It made Jin’s control snap, and he stood.

“Wait one more minute,” Yoko said, his voice soft but firm. Jin scowled.

Yoko rose, and Jin followed the line of his leg up to the skirt. He whistled before he could help it, lips parting in a smirk. Yoko’s back straightened, and he stepped into his heels without another word. When he leaned down to tighten the ankle strap on his shoe, Jin bumped his chair out of the way with his hip. Yoko turned around, slowly; the heels made him taller than Jin, and Yoko shifted on his hip, one side of his mouth pulling up a little. That was a flash Jin knew, a flash of Yoko under the demure line of his hair falling over his eyes, and it was enough for him. He stalked forward, trapping Yoko against the wall, close enough that the difference in height didn’t really matter.

“So,” he said, and then he kissed Yoko. The red of Yoko’s lipstick ended up smeared across both of their mouths—Jin could see the shock of it in the mirror—and it made him feel less grossed out than it usually did, felt more like triumph, the way Yoko looked debauched. His hands tugged at Yoko’s skirt, hauling it up, and he was pleased to note Yoko had panties on. He didn’t think his brain could handle a guy in a dress looking this hot and then wearing like tighty-whiteys or whatever.

“What was the point of getting all dressed up if you’re just gonna let me fuck you messy again?” Jin asked between long kisses, tongue over the shell of Yoko’s ear as he jerked him off.

“You think I’m sexy, don’t you?” Yoko managed, Jin sucking at his jaw (not hard enough to leave any marks, but enough, enough to make him feel like Yoko can feel him).

“…yeah,” Jin admitted, going through his bag for a condom.

“Then that’s good enough for me,” Yoko said pleasantly, smirking again.

It pissed Jin off, so he kissed the smirk off Yoko’s face, tongue flicking against his and fingers digging into his ribs under layers of chiffon. Yoko’s fingers had finally found Jin’s pants, and he kissed Jin deeply as those long fingers went to work tossing Jin’s belt aside and getting his pants down around his hips.

Jin grunted when Yoko suddenly turned the tables on him, and those centimeters of height difference were suddenly very large. “Stay still,” Yoko said solemnly, and then he knelt, spreading his skirt out over his thighs in a way that was ridiculously ladylike and shamelessly pornographic, and palming Jin’s cock softly. He huffed over the head of Jin’s cock and the warmth of his breath made Jin bite down on his fist.

Then those red, red lips circled his cock and took him in, and it was everything he could do not to thrust. He tossed his head back so far he hit his head on the wall, and he grunted when pain bloomed across the back of his head. Before he could say ‘stop,’ though, Yoko was humming something and that distracted him again.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “fuck.”

Yoko’s eyes smiled at him.


They fucked, later, Jin pushing Yoko up against the mirror and making him watch, his fist pushed into his mouth to keep himself quiet. When Yoko came, it was with a sob, and when they were done he sat in his chair with his skirt hiked up around his hips and the shoes still on. Jin leaned over and pulled the strap of Yoko’s dress back over his shoulder, like he would if he were with a real girl. He ran the back of his hand over Yoko’s cheek, but Yoko wouldn’t meet his eyes.

He made a face, fingers rubbing at the hair of Yoko’s wig in silence. After a moment more of Yoko staring at his knees, he stooped to pull his bag off the floor and padded out the door. Yoko remained in that chair until he nodded off, but he was gone the next morning when Junno thundered in.


It was obvious to anybody looking that Jin and Junno were--something. Yoko didn’t really care, honestly, what went on when they shared a taxi back to Jin’s place or went out for the night, but he knew Jin and Jin couldn’t keep secrets, so Junno’s curious eyes following him (he never dressed in the trailer again, he left that for discreet restrooms or love hotels) didn’t surprise him at all.

Junno’s approach did.

“I’m not going on a fucking date with you, Taguchi,” Yoko said, when he recovered his nerves.

“All right, then we skip the date part, order in, we both end up happy.”

“Fuck Akanishi.”

“Now, now, Yokocho,” Junno said, voice low and smile dark, “that’s not ladylike.”

Yoko swatted at him, grumbling.


So Yoko went over for dinner. It was—nice. Nice in the way that eating with Aiba was nice, anyway, Junior stories and laughing and plenty of alcohol. It was just that he was dressed up like a girl while they did all of that, and Junno called him Kimiko-chan.

“Who came up with that?” Yoko asked, blinking, when Junno asked Kimiko-chan to please give him seconds ♥.

“Jin, he didn’t want to get Yoko and Kimiko-chan confused.”

Yoko made a face; it wasn’t like he wasn’t Yoko any more just because he was in a skirt, but then again he wasn’t Yoko any more. This was as much a role as Seishiro.

“Junno,” he called, on his way back from dumping the dishes in the sink, “turn off the television.”

Junno grumbled as he turned off the Wii, but then he saw Yoko’s body lowering over his lap and he accepted him with open arms. Yoko straddled Junno, brushing the long yellow-blond bangs from Junno’s eyes.

“This is a good look for you,” Yoko commented, and licked his lips. That was all the signal Junno needed, apparently, as he (carefully, very carefully, too carefully) pulled Yoko’s head down for a kiss.

Yoko let Junno set his lazy pace, flicking open the buttons at the throat of Junno’s button-down shirt. Junno ducked his head and explored Yoko’s collarbone with his tongue, long patterns that might have been Yoko’s name. When Yoko’s fingers flicked over his nipple, Junno spread his fingers over his ass, under his skirt. Yoko rolled his head back as Junno licked a long stripe up his neck, breath ghosting over his lips with a moan. Junno flipped Yoko’s skirt up and thumbed his entrance through his panties suddenly; Yoko grunted in surprise, and pushed his hips back against Junno’s hand.

“Impatient,” Junno teased.

“Hush,” Yoko answered, and arched his back to push his panties off as far as they could go, silently thanking Junno’s hand now at the small of his back keeping him from toppling backward because that would just not be sexy at all. When he moved to swing his leg around, though, he lost his balance on Junno’s lap and landed heavily on his elbow. He cursed, voice low. Junno’s mouth screwed up in an effort to keep quiet; Yoko thumped him, hard, on the arm.

“Ow,” Junno hissed, rubbing at it while Yoko stood up and stepped out of his panties. Then he leaned his head down to peer up under the hem of Yoko’s skirt.

“I like this view,” he complimented.

“Shut up,” Yoko said, hand covering his face in embarrassment. Then, suddenly, he whipped around. Straddling Junno’s thighs again, he put his fingers to Junno’s lips.

Junno’s tongue traced a line up the pad of his middle finger, and then he took it in his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking at it, and Yoko squirmed, thrusting against Junno’s stomach through skirt and button-down. Junno opened his mouth slightly, raised his eyebrows, and Yoko slid his index finger inside to join the first.

By the time all three of his fingers were slicked up enough for him to work himself open, Yoko was so, so close. He batted Junno’s hand away from his cock desperately and shook his head so quickly he whipped himself in the face with his wig.

Junno laughed at him, the asshole.

“Okay, I’m—“ Yoko gritted his teeth, twisting his wrist creatively and gasping. “I’m ready.”

Junno let him flick open the buttons of his pants and unzip his fly, pushing his pants down until Junno sat, shirt unbuttoned and pants tossed across the carpet. He spread his legs out as he arched his back to reach behind him, work his fingers between the couch covers and return with a condom.

“How long has that been in there?” Yoko asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Not long enough for you to worry,”

“Taking your word for it,” Yoko managed, tearing it open with a flick of the wrist. He rolled it over the head of Junno’s cock, hands moving like they’d been doing this for years, leaning forward to nibble at Junno’s bottom lip. His breath slid from his mouth as he slowly, slowly, sunk down on Junno. Junno’s hands seized in his skirt, pulling it taut with an air of tense impatience, and he tilted his mouth to kiss Yoko.


Yoko dropped the condom in the trash as he pulled his jeans on, wig and skirt shoved into his bag. He averted his eyes from Junno when he noticed the other man looking up at him from the couch, Wiimote dangling, still, from his fingers.

“See you at work tomorrow,” Junno called as Yoko let himself out in silence.


Yoko fully expected work to be awkward; he certainly felt that way, hiding himself away in the bathroom and ignoring the churning of his stomach whenever he thought about putting on lipstick. Of course the director wanted to capitalize on the ~Johnny’s in dresses~ idea that fangirls liked to see so much. His fingers trembled over Monhan, and he bit at his lip so much the girls in makeup scolded him as they applied makeup to smooth out the color.

After a day of filming group scenes, which was good because if he’d had to actually do the Seishiro-Miroku fight scene they were still learning the choreography for he’d probably explode of embarrassment, he found himself with Junno draped over his shoulder.

“Doing anything tonight?” Junno asked, all smiles.

“U-uh, just… playing video games,” Yoko tried.

“I’ll see you at my place,” Junno answered, poking him in the cheek and twirling away to tease Suzuki-chan.



"So you… you like this," Junno said, rearranging his bangs distractedly.

Yoko was sitting, knees together, on the bathroom counter next to him, putting on lip gloss. He looked over his bare shoulder at Junno, and he shrugged. "Yeah," he answered, "and stop touching your bangs, it's getting all oily."

"What seriously," Junno demanded, head turning back toward the mirror, "damn it--"

"Leave it," said Yoko, suddenly close between his knees, "you look like a hooker. A cheap one."

"That's supposed to be a compliment?" Junno complained, as Yoko twisted around to get at his makeup bag. Junno grabbed the hip near him before either of them could think twice, leveraged him farther back and rubbed his thigh up against the clear hardness not hidden by Yoko's skirt. Yoko hissed.

"No," he said, voice tight, "that's why I'm going to fix it."

"What would I ever do without you?"

"Look like a cheap hooker, that's what. Hold still--" the eyeliner slid, slick, across his eyelids, and Junno sighed, blissful.

"I thought maybe you'd like it," Yoko's lips whispered against his cheek.

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't like it," pointed out Junno.

"I know," Yoko answered, body heat disappearing for a moment as he went back to digging for a brush. Junno's cock ached for him.

"When do I get to undress you?" Junno demanded, fingers sliding over the shiny material at Yoko's hips to haul him close.

Yoko laughed, girlishly. "Whenever you want to," he admitted, pinky high on Junno's cheekbone as the brush fanned across his eyelid.

"How about now?" Junno hummed, content.

"Wait until I finish your makeup," Yoko answered, leaning away again and leaving Junno's fingertips tingling at the loss.

"It's going to be sticky," Junno commented, watching Yoko untwist the lip gloss cap.

"I know," said Yoko. Junno pouted familiarly for Yoko to apply; the edge of Yoko's hand pressed gently into Junno's pulse as he held his jaw gently still, and Junno shivered.

Then, quietly, Yoko kissed him, tip of his tongue touching Junno's. Junno groaned, fingers threading gently in Yoko's long wig as his tongue curled against Yoko's. Junno wanted to shove Yoko on the counter and take him, there; he made himself slow down, cupping Yoko's cheeks and pressing their foreheads together.

"Well," Junno said.

"Yeah."

"Come on, then."

They didn't go to an okama bar; it's like cheating, Yoko claimed, but it was near Nicho, so they were probably safe if somebody figured out the lady they were talking to was a man. Junno was nervous, but even he couldn't deny that they were at least passable women, especially in the dark.

He soon discovered that Yoko was more than passable. He'd gone out drinking with Yoko in the past--the three of them lifting cups to co-starring or ramen stands on late nights--but he'd never, ever seen Yoko like this. He sat at a table in a dark corner and ignored the heavy feeling in his chest when Yoko chatted up an unsuspecting young man (a looker, even, who’d sent the ‘young lady’ in the dark blue skirt and the white blouse a drink from across the club) with his wig's curls around his finger and that dark, intimate smile just for him. Eventually the young man moved to take Yoko's hand; Yoko shook his (her?) head and walked back toward Junno.

"I didn't talk to anyone my first night either," Yoko mused, as he settled across Junno's lap and crossed his legs, lashes low over the eyes still fixed on that young man.

Junno reached for his tequila. Yoko reached for his wrist. Junno eyed him, and then Yoko's tongue flicked across the back of his hand. Junno swallowed. Yoko's eyes stayed on Junno's as he reached blind for the salt.

Yoko's 'friend' was still watching when Junno lifted the tequila to his lips, but Junno couldn't really bring himself to care.

After the burn had faded, Junno looked back up at Yoko.

"Let's go," he said.

"But--"

"Kimiko."

"All right. All right."


"So now who looks like a cheap hooker?" Junno teased, snapping Yoko's bra strap. It echoed in the emptiness of his apartment. Yoko gasped, back arching, his chest brushing up against Junno's.

"I do," he admitted, "but it's hot. So whatever."

Junno nodded in agreement, slowly running the back of his hand up the outside of Yoko's thigh. He watched the material of Yoko's flirty little blue skirt bunch up at the hip and hooked his thumb under the waist of Yoko's panties, scratching at his hipbone lazily.

Yoko grumbled at him, and hauled him down by the hair.

"Ow, Kimiko-chan, that's my real hair, stop, it hurts--"

"That’s the point!"

Junno kissed him slowly, thoroughly, sliding Yoko's underwear to mid-thigh. Yoko jerked against him, his cock rubbing alternately up against the inside of his skirt and the front of Junno's dress. "You're going to get my dress all dirty," Junno complained.

"So take it off."

"Well. I guess."


"I swear to god," Yoko gasped, "if you say what I think you're going to say--"

"What are you going to do?" Junno pressed, fingers tight in Yoko's hair. Yoko squirmed against the counter of Junno's kitchen, lifting his knee.

"Never let you fuck me again, that's what," Yoko hissed.

"Come, now, Kimiko-chan," Junno chirped, a little amused but his breath heavy, and finally, finally he slid inside. The stupid scratchy inner layer of Yoko's skirt scratched against his stomach, and he wrinkled his nose.

"You've barely done anything!"

Junno chuckled.

“Yet,” he corrected.


“Akanishi~” Junno and Yoko chorused together from either side of him, Junno’s forearm leaned companionably on his shoulder and Yoko’s fingers firm on the sleeve of his jacket.

“What,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Yoko pressed closer, hip against his side, and Junno’s grin gained an edge that made him swallow.

Oh. Oooooh.

“Good work today,” Yoko said, and sauntered off with Junno in tow, leaving Jin to do his final take.

Jin’s mouth was suddenly dry.


“Shiiiiit,” Jin groaned, watching them work at each other from his bedroom door. Junno was propped up on Jin’s dresser, legs spread open under the crunched-up line of his tiny black miniskirt, and Yoko was bent double, little pink dress and shock-white underwear hiding absolutely nothing as he sucked at Junno’s cock.

“Let’s not,” said Junno—Junko—with a tight smile, gasping as Yoko’s fingers flicked over his—her—entrance, tongue tracing the head of his cock. He slid his fingers over Yoko’s glossy black wig, hard, and sighed when Yoko pulled away to pout at him, pulling it delicately back into place before leaning forward again.

Jin crossed the room in five steps, and leaned over Yoko’s back, bodies a hair from touching, to kiss Junno with familiarity, his tongue flicking against the roof of Junno’s mouth. Junno moaned, long and low. Jin laughed into it, like a bubble of amusement filling Junno’s mouth, and at the same time Yoko’s tongue did something awesome, and Junno basically choked, hips stuttering forward so quickly Yoko had to pinch him, viciously.

Jin’s hands found the lube, and he pushed Yoko’s little white panties down around his knees. Then his fingers were moving, quietly, and Yoko squeaked when Jin curled two inside of him. Junno hissed, eyes flickering downward, and suddenly he hauled Yoko off of his cock by the hair. Yoko grinned, tossing his long hair from his face. In a flash, Jin had him by the back of the dress, pressed flush against him with one hand still working him open. Yoko’s head dropped back against Jin’s shoulder, and he gasped. Junno watched for a moment, fingers twitching over the strip of condoms next to his hip, before he slid from the top of the dresser to tug Yoko’s hips toward his. Jin’s sigh of annoyance made Junno roll his eyes.

“Pants,” Junno pointed out.

“…right,” Jin said, and fiddled them open while Junno kissed Yoko, slow and hungry. Jin couldn’t kick his pants off fast enough; he tossed them into the slowly expanding pile of laundry spilling from his closet and tugged his shirt up over his head. Which of course meant that it got caught, and Junno had to reach up, laughing, to tug it free.

“Don’t,” Jin said, tone warning.

“Keep talking and I’ll show you what you won’t be doing,” Yoko growled suddenly, whirling and scowling down at Jin.

Jin laughed, brushing the back of his hand over the smeared right corner of Yoko’s lips. “Pretty,” he commented, and grunted when Yoko shoved him backward onto the bed.

“I’ll show you pretty,” Yoko hissed, stalking across the space and sinking onto the bed, one knee between Jin’s thighs. He straddled Jin’s hips, dress floating over his thighs, and lifted a hand. Junno slapped a condom into it, the noise of it almost as loud as the heartbeat still thundering between Jin’s ears. He bit his lip when the condom pressed to the head of his cock, distracted by the play of the hem of Yoko’s dress across Jin’s thighs and the ends of his hair sliding across Jin’s shoulder. Jin hand found the hair, twisting it around his fingertips, and tugged on it, pulling Yoko close.

Suddenly, he saw Junno’s blond hair flashing in the corner of his eye, and he turned from brushing his thumbs over Yoko’s cheekbones to watch Junno slide in behind Yoko.

“Wait,” managed Jin, “wait—“

Too late. Jin moaned as he pressed into Junno; it was almost too much. Junno stopped, eyebrows raised as he smirked at Jin, and Yoko pressed a soft kiss to Jin’s cheek.

“Don’t worry, Jin, we wouldn’t let you come home and come early,” Yoko whispered in Jin’s ear, and then he pulled back, hips pressing back against Junno. Jin could feel it as Junno pressed into Yoko, both from the blissful, aching expression on Yoko’s face and in the way Junno tightened around him. Jin cursed, low, over and over, until Junno was as far inside of Yoko as he could manage to be. All three of them crashed to a stop then, until Yoko’s voice, breathy and begging, spurred Jin to move.

“Go,” was all that Yoko managed, and that was enough.

“Fuck,” Jin managed, the word breaking through the tightening of his lungs and the heat pushing, burning against the well of his belly.

Yoko was first, fingers tangled with Jin’s over the length of his cock, and when he came it was all over Jin’s chest, his shoulders. The wig got stuck in some of it, too, and Jin had to focus on that, just that, because otherwise he’d be following after Yoko in mere seconds.

Yoko collapsed against him, dress mingling with the stickiness Jin didn’t even care about, his lips moving around a whimper against Jin’s neck.

Junno lasted it out, squeezed his muscles around Jin until Jin, too, found himself tumbling over the edge. Junno looked pleased, tossing his bangs from his eyes and pawing distractedly at the sweat on his brow, as he moved, still inside of Yoko. Yoko slid forward with the first thrust, grunting when Junno’s hips slapped against him, and Jin’s heart very nearly stopped. His still-sensitive cock was trapped between Junno’s thighs, and the friction was very nearly too much.

Yoko’s fingers scrabbled over Jin’s shoulders and squeezed, his breath caught in sobs breaking out between clenched lips, and Jin thought it was beautiful. His eyes rested on Junno’s face, slack and pleased, as his back arched and he cried out, an echo of lust in the room.

Junno looked momentarily like he was going to topple forward atop Yoko, but he managed to sway to the side, hitting the pillow on Jin’s right, his eyes half open and dizzy over a sated, dopey smile.

Yoko’s hand reached out blindly, the backs of his fingers brushing over Junno’s hair, and Junno turned his head to kiss Yoko’s palm.

“Get offa me,” Jin whined as the euphoria of afterglow faded and the mass of Yoko’s weight on his chest started to get to him.

Yoko slipped off of Jin, hip hitting the gap in the mattress, the little sliver of space between Jin and Junno. Junno’s voice, muffled by Yoko’s wig all over his face, rose in complaint, but Yoko simply burrowed farther between them, leg thrown between Jin’s and fingers splayed over his stomach.

After much shifting, poking, and complaining, Junno’s arms slide around them both, his left arm under Yoko’s head (the wig had been tossed on the nightstand in a fit of irritation from Jin) and the fingers of his right hand tossed haphazardly over Jin’s chest.

Peace lasted about fifteen seconds before Junno’s fingertips tapped down the line of Jin’s collarbone, and Jin shrieked, throwing them both off of him and rolling over so far he fell off the bed with a thump. Junno laughed into Yoko’s ear, and soon enough the two of them were a pile of giggles that ignored Jin’s half-hearted threats to kick them both out.

“C’mon, come back,” Junno called, “I won’t do it again. Ji~in~”

“I swear to god, Taguchi,” Jin threatened, and fell out of the bed again when Yoko’s knuckles brushed against his collarbone.

“Okay, okay I’m done,” Yoko managed between body-wracking rounds of breathless laughter, flapping his hands uselessly against Jin’s arms when Jin tried to smother him with a pillow until Junno had to come to his rescue, long limbs wrapping Jin up and taking him down to the mattress in a tight, full-length embrace.

Jin laughed at Yoko when he sat up and his makeup was all over the back of the pillowcase, his short hair sticking up in every direction.

Junno tugged them both down for a pile, winding his fingers in Yoko’s hair and arm about Jin’s waist. He smiled into Jin’s hair.

“When you two lovely ladies feel like getting up I bet I can beat both of your asses at Wii Sports.”

Yoko snorted, but Jin laughed so hard and so long Junno simply couldn’t resist blowing a raspberry into his neck.

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April 2012

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