defeminized (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
defeminized) wrote2011-12-17 08:34 pm
defeminized) wrote2011-12-17 08:34 pm
Entry tags:
The Fourth Music Room - Koki/Jin | Happy birthday, Isa!
Title: The Fourth Music Room
Wordcount: 1605
Rating: PG-13 for non-explicit sexual activity and language
Genre: Romance-ish, angst-ish, fluff-ish, I-don’t-know-ish
Pairing: Koki/Jin and Kame/Jin if you put a microscope on it
Warning: This fic is rather, how should I put it, claustrophobic?
Note: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pinkeuphoria1, Happy birthday! I’m glad I started and finished this on your birthday :D Since nobody wrote you Koki/Jin, I might as well do it.
Thanks toprologuesized for looking over this, any corrections are welcomed :D
Summary: Outside the room, Jin’s his bandmates, co-worker, one of his friends. Inside the room, Jin’s his lover, confidante, the only one that matters.
-
They have this secret language between them, like when Koki rubs his head, it means he’s nervous. When Jin shuffles his feet and refuses to talk, Koki knows that he’s angry and doesn’t know what to say. When Koki shakes things lightly, it means that he’s very close to breaking something. When Jin nudges him at the side, Koki knows that it’s time to retreat to the abandoned room, the dusty place hidden between two storerooms.
Nobody goes there ever, nobody except them.
Once they lock the door behind them, it’s usually Koki who pulls Jin close and kisses him furiously. Jin sometimes initiates it, but most of them he lets Koki lead him.
Sex depends on the mood.
When they are both angry at things —management, press, schedule, Kame—, the sex is a struggle, a battle to dominate. When they are feeling random and whimsical, it’s a game, a war of wits. When they are feeling heartbroken, it becomes a therapy, a clash of comfort.
The secrecy is an unspoken promise. Nobody has to know.
Nobody needs to know.
It was Nakamaru who told him about the hidden room with the label “The Fourth Music Room”, because he once got lost while running to the rehearsal hall and bumped into Tegoshi and they were both late for their Summary briefing.
Nakamaru couldn’t tell him exactly where that room was, but Koki was curious. He retraced the steps from the vague direction Nakamaru gave and discovered it.
When he found it, the room was dusty, old and abandoned. It contained documents from the years before he was born, outfits he probably saw from the 60’s recap shows, and broken furniture. He cleaned it up a little and slowly, the dusts were gone, the battered furniture pushed aside and the outfits packed in a box.
It became the tiny little corner he used as a hiding place.
He invited Jin into the room to ask him things.
He didn’t expect it to end with both of them staring at each other, panting and exhausted and wondering what did they just do.
“Koki,” Jin says, wrapping Koki’s body in his arms, “do you think we have made a mistake?”
He feels his muscles relax. “No,” he answers.
Never, he thinks.
“Will you kiss me?” was Jin’s simple request when Koki first brought Jin into the room.
Koki complied.
Come to think about it, Koki will comply to anything Jin asks.
Sometimes they sit beside each other in front of a broken mirror, laughing at their disjointed reflection, talking shit about other people. The manager who forgot to zip up his pants, Nakamaru’s wigs, Nakamaru’s nose, Kame’s bitchy face, Yamapi’s awkwardness with his bandmates, Ueda’s third broken guitar in two months, Taguchi’s shady life.
Sometimes they simply grit their teeth and rant to each other. Stupid press who made up stories, stupid management who thinks that they can tour four cities in ten days, stupid everything else.
It’s ok, Koki feels. The room doesn’t judge them. They can do everything in there.
They can be anything in there.
Outside the room, Jin’s his bandmates, co-worker, one of his friends.
Inside the room, Jin’s his lover, confidante, the only one that matters.
They let the window open and they sit leaning against each other, staring at the stars.
“Does this feel slightly strange to you,” Jin mumbles, “two of us here, sitting and just staring outside?”
“But it makes you happy,” Koki answers.
“Yes,” Jin says, gripping Koki’s hand.
“What else makes you happy?”
“Italian food,” Jin replies immediately, slightly jumping at the mention.
“And?”
“Singing.”
“And?”
“Our fans.”
“Anything else?”
“Babies.”
“You’re too young to have kids,” Koki laughs.
“But I’m not too young to want to have kids at least,” Jin whines. “What about you, Koki? What makes you happy?”
This room, he wants to say. “A lot of things.”
“Like?”
“Food.”
“And?”
You, Koki thinks as he loosens his grip on Jin’s hand and squeezes it again.
“The stars.”
Jin pouts playfully. “I was expecting you to say something less cheesy.”
Jin’s breath feels hot as their faces close in and his fingers are trailing across Koki’s chest, numbing him.
“What do you want, Jin?” Koki teases, hands slipping beneath his belt.
“You know what I want,” Jin whispers, biting his lips. “Just do me.”
He slips Jin’s shirt away from his shoulder and kisses Jin. Jin reacts in ways that Koki loves; he moans, he sighs happily, he whimpers his name, and he tells him that he wants more.
Koki pushes in, bites in, holds him, and caresses him. Jin radiates glows and all the things that are shiny and sparkly. Jin’s the bright sun, surrounded by the aromas of spring and scorching heat of summer.
He wants Jin.
Sometimes Jin asks Koki vague questions about the future. Questions like if he plans to get married, if he wants to have kids, or if he plans to migrate somewhere. The answers are yes, yes, and maybe.
Sometimes Jin asks strange questions about the past. Questions like if he ever had sex with a woman, if he ever had sex with another man, if he had ever fallen in love. The answers are yes, yes and yes.
Jin never asks questions about the present, and Koki finds himself preparing the answers to some of the questions he thinks Jin might ask. Questions like if he loves Jin, if he loves the moments they share together, if he wants to keep him forever.
The answers are yes, yes, and yes. Jin never asks.
It’s a good thing they hardly have angry hatesex. They might end up breaking things that are already broken.
Out of so many things they do in the room, Koki loves kissing Jin the most.
Jin’s sometimes blushes when he kisses and Koki loves looking at how his face gradually turns red and his lips grow more luscious with every kiss. Koki loves feeling their tongues together, the way Jin tastes, the way Jin waits for Koki to part him, and the way Jin clenches his fists when the kiss gets deeper.
Jin’s kisses are sometimes open-mouthed, desperate and hurried. Their bodies meet in a clash and their hands feel each other, like they are both suffocated and the kiss is the only way to regain air.
Jin sometimes says, “Koki, don’t let me go.”
He sometimes also says, “Koki, want me forever.”
Koki loves it the most when Jin doesn’t say anything, when Jin’s just there.
When Jin’s there so that Koki can be there for him.
It’s cold that night, so they snuggle under Jin’s oversized jacket.
“I hate the cold,” Jin complains.
“What else do you hate?”
Koki can almost hear his answer. Sometimes, the world.
“Nothing.”
Koki sneaks his hand around Jin’s neck and pinches his earlobe.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know,” Jin denies. “Most of the time, nothing.”
“Most of the time?”
“Well, sometimes I hate everything.”
“Do you hate me?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“You said sometimes you hate everything,” Koki answers.
“I do.”
Koki’s heart stops.
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
Jin looks at him and lays his head on his shoulder.
“Because there are times when thinking about you hurts.”
Jin’s angry, for reasons Koki only vaguely understands.
“I hate him,” he spits through his clenched jaw as Koki kisses his bare back and works on his cock.
The declaration sets something alight in Koki. He doesn’t know why he wants to hear it more.
“Go on,” he says as he strokes Jin faster.
Jin bends lower when he starts to get hard and moans unintelligibly.
“I think,” Jin pants, “I can’t say it now—Koki, I—“
“You need to come now,” Koki requests. Jin has to, Jin needs to. The more Jin talks about hating something, the more he wants to fuck him.
The harder he wants to fuck him.
“Koki—“
He wants to break something, but there’s nothing around.
So he grips Jin’s forearm as he thrusts himself into him, harder and harder until he comes.
Koki thinks about Jin when he lies alone in the room, staring at the sky. His pretty smiles, the way his body twitches when Koki teases into his ears, the way his giggles sound, and the tender vibration of his softened voice as he calls him. The erratic beat of his heart as they kiss, his fluttering eyelashes, his hardening cock, and the way his body arches right before he comes.
He thinks about himself. The way he feels blood streaming inside him as they touch, the increasing heartbeat, the way his brain shuts itself, the desire mounting inside him and the painful throbbing around his crotch.
Outside the room, Jin’s his bandmate, co-worker, one of his friends.
Inside the room, Jin slowly becomes his drug, his escape, his fantasy.
“I’ll be locking that room,” he announces to Jin.
“Why?” Jin looks puzzled.
Koki pulls him into an embrace and feels his heart against his chest.
“Because I love you,” he says simply. Also because I love the moments we share together, and I want to keep you forever, he thinks.
Jin giggles.
“What is this sudden outburst—“
Koki kisses him.
“Does thinking about me still hurt?” Koki asks as they stand on Jin’s balcony.
“Sometimes,” Jin says.
“Why?”
“But most of the time, it doesn’t.”
The cicadas chirp. Spring’s here.
“Do you miss being in the room?” Koki asks.
“No,” Jin answers. “Because you’re here.”
-
Wordcount: 1605
Rating: PG-13 for non-explicit sexual activity and language
Genre: Romance-ish, angst-ish, fluff-ish, I-don’t-know-ish
Pairing: Koki/Jin and Kame/Jin if you put a microscope on it
Warning: This fic is rather, how should I put it, claustrophobic?
Note: For
pinkeuphoria1, Happy birthday! I’m glad I started and finished this on your birthday :D Since nobody wrote you Koki/Jin, I might as well do it. Thanks to
prologuesized for looking over this, any corrections are welcomed :DSummary: Outside the room, Jin’s his bandmates, co-worker, one of his friends. Inside the room, Jin’s his lover, confidante, the only one that matters.
They have this secret language between them, like when Koki rubs his head, it means he’s nervous. When Jin shuffles his feet and refuses to talk, Koki knows that he’s angry and doesn’t know what to say. When Koki shakes things lightly, it means that he’s very close to breaking something. When Jin nudges him at the side, Koki knows that it’s time to retreat to the abandoned room, the dusty place hidden between two storerooms.
Nobody goes there ever, nobody except them.
Once they lock the door behind them, it’s usually Koki who pulls Jin close and kisses him furiously. Jin sometimes initiates it, but most of them he lets Koki lead him.
Sex depends on the mood.
When they are both angry at things —management, press, schedule, Kame—, the sex is a struggle, a battle to dominate. When they are feeling random and whimsical, it’s a game, a war of wits. When they are feeling heartbroken, it becomes a therapy, a clash of comfort.
The secrecy is an unspoken promise. Nobody has to know.
Nobody needs to know.
It was Nakamaru who told him about the hidden room with the label “The Fourth Music Room”, because he once got lost while running to the rehearsal hall and bumped into Tegoshi and they were both late for their Summary briefing.
Nakamaru couldn’t tell him exactly where that room was, but Koki was curious. He retraced the steps from the vague direction Nakamaru gave and discovered it.
When he found it, the room was dusty, old and abandoned. It contained documents from the years before he was born, outfits he probably saw from the 60’s recap shows, and broken furniture. He cleaned it up a little and slowly, the dusts were gone, the battered furniture pushed aside and the outfits packed in a box.
It became the tiny little corner he used as a hiding place.
He invited Jin into the room to ask him things.
He didn’t expect it to end with both of them staring at each other, panting and exhausted and wondering what did they just do.
“Koki,” Jin says, wrapping Koki’s body in his arms, “do you think we have made a mistake?”
He feels his muscles relax. “No,” he answers.
Never, he thinks.
“Will you kiss me?” was Jin’s simple request when Koki first brought Jin into the room.
Koki complied.
Come to think about it, Koki will comply to anything Jin asks.
Sometimes they sit beside each other in front of a broken mirror, laughing at their disjointed reflection, talking shit about other people. The manager who forgot to zip up his pants, Nakamaru’s wigs, Nakamaru’s nose, Kame’s bitchy face, Yamapi’s awkwardness with his bandmates, Ueda’s third broken guitar in two months, Taguchi’s shady life.
Sometimes they simply grit their teeth and rant to each other. Stupid press who made up stories, stupid management who thinks that they can tour four cities in ten days, stupid everything else.
It’s ok, Koki feels. The room doesn’t judge them. They can do everything in there.
They can be anything in there.
Outside the room, Jin’s his bandmates, co-worker, one of his friends.
Inside the room, Jin’s his lover, confidante, the only one that matters.
They let the window open and they sit leaning against each other, staring at the stars.
“Does this feel slightly strange to you,” Jin mumbles, “two of us here, sitting and just staring outside?”
“But it makes you happy,” Koki answers.
“Yes,” Jin says, gripping Koki’s hand.
“What else makes you happy?”
“Italian food,” Jin replies immediately, slightly jumping at the mention.
“And?”
“Singing.”
“And?”
“Our fans.”
“Anything else?”
“Babies.”
“You’re too young to have kids,” Koki laughs.
“But I’m not too young to want to have kids at least,” Jin whines. “What about you, Koki? What makes you happy?”
This room, he wants to say. “A lot of things.”
“Like?”
“Food.”
“And?”
You, Koki thinks as he loosens his grip on Jin’s hand and squeezes it again.
“The stars.”
Jin pouts playfully. “I was expecting you to say something less cheesy.”
Jin’s breath feels hot as their faces close in and his fingers are trailing across Koki’s chest, numbing him.
“What do you want, Jin?” Koki teases, hands slipping beneath his belt.
“You know what I want,” Jin whispers, biting his lips. “Just do me.”
He slips Jin’s shirt away from his shoulder and kisses Jin. Jin reacts in ways that Koki loves; he moans, he sighs happily, he whimpers his name, and he tells him that he wants more.
Koki pushes in, bites in, holds him, and caresses him. Jin radiates glows and all the things that are shiny and sparkly. Jin’s the bright sun, surrounded by the aromas of spring and scorching heat of summer.
He wants Jin.
Sometimes Jin asks Koki vague questions about the future. Questions like if he plans to get married, if he wants to have kids, or if he plans to migrate somewhere. The answers are yes, yes, and maybe.
Sometimes Jin asks strange questions about the past. Questions like if he ever had sex with a woman, if he ever had sex with another man, if he had ever fallen in love. The answers are yes, yes and yes.
Jin never asks questions about the present, and Koki finds himself preparing the answers to some of the questions he thinks Jin might ask. Questions like if he loves Jin, if he loves the moments they share together, if he wants to keep him forever.
The answers are yes, yes, and yes. Jin never asks.
It’s a good thing they hardly have angry hatesex. They might end up breaking things that are already broken.
Out of so many things they do in the room, Koki loves kissing Jin the most.
Jin’s sometimes blushes when he kisses and Koki loves looking at how his face gradually turns red and his lips grow more luscious with every kiss. Koki loves feeling their tongues together, the way Jin tastes, the way Jin waits for Koki to part him, and the way Jin clenches his fists when the kiss gets deeper.
Jin’s kisses are sometimes open-mouthed, desperate and hurried. Their bodies meet in a clash and their hands feel each other, like they are both suffocated and the kiss is the only way to regain air.
Jin sometimes says, “Koki, don’t let me go.”
He sometimes also says, “Koki, want me forever.”
Koki loves it the most when Jin doesn’t say anything, when Jin’s just there.
When Jin’s there so that Koki can be there for him.
It’s cold that night, so they snuggle under Jin’s oversized jacket.
“I hate the cold,” Jin complains.
“What else do you hate?”
Koki can almost hear his answer. Sometimes, the world.
“Nothing.”
Koki sneaks his hand around Jin’s neck and pinches his earlobe.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know,” Jin denies. “Most of the time, nothing.”
“Most of the time?”
“Well, sometimes I hate everything.”
“Do you hate me?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“You said sometimes you hate everything,” Koki answers.
“I do.”
Koki’s heart stops.
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
Jin looks at him and lays his head on his shoulder.
“Because there are times when thinking about you hurts.”
Jin’s angry, for reasons Koki only vaguely understands.
“I hate him,” he spits through his clenched jaw as Koki kisses his bare back and works on his cock.
The declaration sets something alight in Koki. He doesn’t know why he wants to hear it more.
“Go on,” he says as he strokes Jin faster.
Jin bends lower when he starts to get hard and moans unintelligibly.
“I think,” Jin pants, “I can’t say it now—Koki, I—“
“You need to come now,” Koki requests. Jin has to, Jin needs to. The more Jin talks about hating something, the more he wants to fuck him.
The harder he wants to fuck him.
“Koki—“
He wants to break something, but there’s nothing around.
So he grips Jin’s forearm as he thrusts himself into him, harder and harder until he comes.
Koki thinks about Jin when he lies alone in the room, staring at the sky. His pretty smiles, the way his body twitches when Koki teases into his ears, the way his giggles sound, and the tender vibration of his softened voice as he calls him. The erratic beat of his heart as they kiss, his fluttering eyelashes, his hardening cock, and the way his body arches right before he comes.
He thinks about himself. The way he feels blood streaming inside him as they touch, the increasing heartbeat, the way his brain shuts itself, the desire mounting inside him and the painful throbbing around his crotch.
Outside the room, Jin’s his bandmate, co-worker, one of his friends.
Inside the room, Jin slowly becomes his drug, his escape, his fantasy.
“I’ll be locking that room,” he announces to Jin.
“Why?” Jin looks puzzled.
Koki pulls him into an embrace and feels his heart against his chest.
“Because I love you,” he says simply. Also because I love the moments we share together, and I want to keep you forever, he thinks.
Jin giggles.
“What is this sudden outburst—“
Koki kisses him.
“Does thinking about me still hurt?” Koki asks as they stand on Jin’s balcony.
“Sometimes,” Jin says.
“Why?”
“But most of the time, it doesn’t.”
The cicadas chirp. Spring’s here.
“Do you miss being in the room?” Koki asks.
“No,” Jin answers. “Because you’re here.”
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