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[personal profile] songbirdspeaks
Title: Tangled up
Fandom: Johnny's & Associates (KAT-TUN, NEWS)
Characters: Kamenashi Kazuya, Tegoshi Yuya
Pairings: Kame/Tegoshi
Word Count: ~920
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: unconventional bondage, domination, PWP
Summary: Kame has Tegoshi by the back of the shirt. Tegoshi's not sure if he likes it.
Notes: written for [personal profile] ser_pounce_alot on tumblr, lol.


He wonders if there’s a way to wiggle out of his shirt even with Kamenashi’s hand tugging the sleeves back. He tests it, lower lip pulled up between his teeth, and comes up empty, his elbows aching from the fighting. Kame, for his part, still hasn’t moved, his left knee pressed in behind Tegoshi’s thigh and his right hand pressed into the center of Tegoshi’s back, keeping him off balance.

“You have me where you want me,” Tegoshi says, craning his neck to look back at Kame’s serious face. “So what are you going to do with me?”

“I might just hold you here for a bit,” Kame says at first, “test your limits.” then he leans forward, pressing his nose into the hair at the back of Tegoshi’s neck and pressing his mouth to the stretch of skin above the collar of Tegoshi’s white t-shirt. Tegoshi shivers, and his eyes flutter shut.

Which is when Kame shoves him forward until his shoulder hits the bed. “Ow,” Tegoshi says, voice muffled in the comforter, “uncalled for.”

“Not true,” Kame says, and he sounds offended. He pulls on the knotted-up sleeves of Tegoshi’s plaid shirt until Tegoshi’s back arches, and Tegoshi cries out.

“Kame,” he whimpers, his voice drawn out and a little breathy. Fuck, what is wrong with him?

Kame’s free right hand comes down over the curve of his ass, ghosting over the back of his thigh and then finding its way boldly between his legs. Even at the awkwardness of the angle, Kame’s grip on Tegoshi’s shirt never lessens, and the rapidly dulling pain at his shoulders works in tandem with the sensation of denim against his cock to force out of him a long moan. Why oh why had he pulled a Kame and gone commando, today of all days?

Kame’s hand flies away at the same time Kame hauls him back upward, and Tegoshi wobbles backward without balance until Kame’s chest is crushing Tegoshi’s arms behind his body and Kame’s arms are low around his waist, hands fiddling his jeans open and palming his cock, barehanded. “I can’t say I’m disappointed,” Kame says, sounding excited, and then he shoves Tegoshi’s pants down over his hips.

“You wouldn’t be, you pervert,” Tegoshi answers, turning his head and fluttering his eyelashes at Kame in a way he knows is baiting. Kame doesn’t rise to the occasion (that occasion, anyway, if the hot hardness pressing against Tegoshi’s bare rear through tight low-sling jeans is any indication) beyond re-securing his grip on Tegoshi’s sleeves and pushing Tegoshi forward again. With his pants now somewhere in the vicinity of his knees and falling farther with every shuffle forward, Tegoshi grumbles the entire way over to the bed until they’ve dropped to his ankles and he can fight them off. He can hear Kame laughing in his ear, and scowls.

The next thing he knows, he’s on his knees on the bed, his arms still up behind him using the damn shirt and Kame two-knuckles inside of him, playing him like a fiddle. “Kame,” he says, between gasps and moans, “come on. Quit playing with me.”

Kame makes a noise then that sounds irritated, but his fingers fall out of Tegoshi’s body anyway. He shifts forward on his knees until he’s close enough for Tegoshi’s body to curve instinctively back toward his body heat, and then he rests his palm heavily on Tegoshi’s hip. “Don’t move,” he says. the lube is still uncapped on the pile of comforter next to Tegoshi’s body, and he plucks it from the bed to overturn it and slick up his cock. He tosses it on the dark bedside table—he’ll take care of it later—and tugs back on Tegoshi’s shirt with his left hand, right palm pressed firmly to Tegoshi’s lower back as he pushes inside.

Tegoshi’s eyes flutter shut with the first push in, a moan half-pain and half-relief forcing his jaw slack. Kame’s hips move slowly, too slowly at first, and then just when Tegoshi thinks he might be giving into abandon, he stops, his cock still halfway inside. “Um,” Tegoshi says, voice squeakier than he meant it to be with irritation and arousal, “what are you doing?”

Kame pulls back on the shirt, and Tegoshi cries out as he’s jolted back onto Kame’s cock. “Come on,” Kame says, his voice rough with something, and Tegoshi gets the memo, leaning forward to the end of his plaid leash until Kame hauls him back. His shoulders are going to be killing him later, but the sensations echo the pain and make it all hazy in his head. He likes the feeling. It’s dangerous, it’s perfect. Nothing matters. He notices Kame’s hand on his cock belatedly, like a footnote in an encyclopedia, and all too soon his orgasm is running out of him, leaving him shaking and sweating and wishing he were naked, instead of just pantless. Kame’s cock is still hard when Kame slips out of him, and the grip on his shirt abruptly releases. Tegoshi lets his body drop to the mattress, pressing his cheek to the pillows and trying to catch his breath as the sound of Kame jerking himself into orgasm registers in the back of his mind. He can’t even think, not even when Kame’s come shoots warm all over the back of his thighs and Kame flops over his back, breath hot and fast in his ear.

“You’re dry-cleaning my bedding,” Tegoshi tells him, when they’ve caught their breath.

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April 2012

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