Fic - to go beyond
Oct. 1st, 2009 02:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matchyficFandom: KAT-TUN
Characters: Kame, Jin
Pairings: Akame
Genre: Humour, pwp
Rating: R, yaoi, rps
Status: Complete
A/N: Non-established akame
Dedication: crystallekil
Jin’s still worried about the dancing, but feels himself easing up gradually. It’s taken a while for him to remember the sequence, but once he does, once he hits his stride, he’s okay. Better than okay even; and he knows it. He relaxes and lets the moves flow naturally, and stifles a smirk when he feels eyes on him, different from the others. Not the exasperated eyerolls he’s been getting from the choreographers, or the discreet glances from the dancers. Something... different. He stretches casually as he straightens up from the crouched position that the routine ended on and sweeps his gaze around the immediate vicinity, trying to figure out who it was who's been staring at him.
The director is fussing with the camera with the frowning choreographer correcting Koki on one side. The back dancers and the rest of KAT-TUN are scattered around him, waiting for their cue, and a few members of the filming crew are hustling around. Hmm.
He's had to do the sequence more times than he cares to remember – the first time there was some problem with the lights, the second time Koki missed a step, the third time was his fault, the fourth time, someone in the back row messed up; it just went on and on and on.
And from the way the itch between his shoulder blades lessens when they all started dancing together, he figures that it's safe to assume that it’s either a KAT-TUN member who’s been checking him out (he can distinguish a checking-out glance when he feels one), or one of the dancers.
The next time they dance, he turns the wrong way and has to twist sharply to one side to stop Koki’s arm from hitting his face. It’s then that he sees Kamenashi, leaning against the wall, staring at them. He stumbles, offers a laughing apology to the director, but looks back at Kame the very next chance he gets, and finds him pulling at one of his bracelets. Jin also feels the eyes on him disappear at that instant, and grins in victory. Bingo.
~
“Long day, huh.”
“Uh huh.”
Jin gamely tries again. “Did you like the dancers?” He thinks of the black guy with the dreads he traded phone numbers with and grins in memory. “Ne, they were pretty cool, weren’t they?”
Kame hums in vague agreement, seemingly absorbed in his brand new cellphone. Probably discovering all the new and innovative ways he can incorporate emoji into his j–web, no doubt, Jin thinks, rolling his eyes.
“The dance was good though, wasn’t it?” he persists, and Kame nods, looking up. He’s gratified to see a flicker of interest in the dark gaze. “So which part did you like best?”
Jin tilts his head, trying his best to look innocent. Kame can see through him easily most of the time, but Jin can get away with things occasionally. Sometimes. Maybe. Jin frowns in memory, but feels a surge of satisfaction when Kame closes his phone and leans back.
“The part with you and Koki,” Kame offers readily, and Jin blinks. That was... remarkably easy. “I didn’t have to dance then, so,” Kame grins at Jin, who laughs back. He’s thinking of ways to get Kame to admit to watching him for other reasons when Kame starts talking.
“You two were really in sync, you know, it was pretty cool. Looked sexy,” Kame says, eyes unfocusing a bit in memory. “I kind of couldn’t take my eyes off Koki, actually.”
Jin nods, distracted, then blinks when he hears the words “sexy” and “Koki” in the same sentence. “What?” he asks, befuddled.
“His latest hair looks good on him, don’t you think? Sort of matches the way he moves,” Kame murmurs, still looking off into the distance.
“Koki?” Jin asks, eyebrows knotting. “I guess. But his hair feels like straw now, all rough,” he points out dubiously.
Kame grins, slants his eyes towards Jin. “Rough isn’t all that bad though, is it?”
Jin splutters. But Kame’s already looking away, off into the distance once more. “Not that bad at all,” he murmurs, answering his own question, his voice petering off. Jin looks at Kame, the way he settles back against the couch with a faint smile on his lips, watches how his fist grips the fabric, and has a pretty good idea where Kame’s thoughts are headed, because Kame’s probably the most perverted of them all and he’s at his most predictable when he’s thinking about sex.
Jin feels the slow burn of anger when he realizes that Kame’s watched them dance together, when Jin was at his best and clearly the best in the group, and all he focused was on Koki. Motherfucking Koki, what the fuck. That guy can’t even work his hips half as well as Jin. He rants internally, irritation surging as he stares incredulously at Kame.
“Sometimes smooth is good too, don’t you think?” he snaps, when Kame remains oblivious to his glares.
“Mm,” Kame replies, but it’s painfully obvious that he’s paying very little attention to Jin. He’s sprawled across the couch, one hand propping his head up and the other tracing distracting designs on the fabric. A corner of his lips is turned up into a lazy smirk, and his eyes are half-open and focused on something in the distance that is most definitely not Jin.
It’s that last thought that spurs Jin into action. He moves forward until he’s right in front of Kame, and blocks his line of sight so Kame has no choice but to (finally!) look at Jin. Kame raises a brow when he notices the expression on Jin’s face: brows furrowed, lips turned down, fists clenched; classic signs of a upcoming Bakanishi tantrum. He blinks and wonders what could’ve happened in the past five minutes to get Jin into prissy diva mode, then resigns himself to it when Jin narrows his eyes at him.
“It’s overrated,” Jin abruptly snaps, and Kame is honestly confused.
“Um. What?” he asks, blinking.
Jin leans back against the table. “Being all impatient, done in just a few minutes,” he says, voice lowering. “Clothes still on and come getting everywhere,” and yes, Kame’s eyes widen as he gets it; “Being all sweaty and messy after,” Jin continues, eyes never looking away from Kame’s gradually darkening ones.
“Part of the fun,” Kame counters instantly, and Jin’s eyes flicker with interest. They’ve always been competitive, and neither of them have ever been able to turn down a challenge from the other. “Getting to touch what you can, hotter to have the clothes on.” Kame doesn’t even bother to sit up, and Jin feels another surge of irritation, and tries to hide it as best he can.
Jin gives an exaggerated shrug. “Better to take your own time, do it slow,” he says, and wonders why he keeps going at it when he likes rough sex as much as anyone else. Then again, admitting that means Kame wins. Jin narrows his eyes. Not happening. Now what was that he said before... oh yeah. “Better that way, or it ends up gross,” he says, grimacing, thinking about that time with Ueda.
Kame laughs silently. “Clearly you haven’t been doing it right,” he remarks, and Jin wants to hit him. “Might be messier, but fast and dirty is addicting, almost...” Jin can’t stop himself from leaning forward when Kame trails off, and the glint in Kame’s eyes tell Jin that he’s noticed.
“Almost electrifying,” Kame muses, and Jin wonders just how many times Kame’s fucked backstage and who, and whether it was ever when Jin was nearby. The thought leaves him half-aroused and uncomfortably warm. “On the bed, going inch by inch,” he whispers, licking his lips, and Kame’s eyes sharpen. “Letting it build up, gradual.”
“Getting an overload of stimulation,” Kame challenges, “All heat and desperation.”
“Like a slow burn, hotter and hotter till the perfect moment,” Jin murmurs, moving forward to rest his hands on the couch, boxing Kame in. “No need to have marks everywhere, no awkward questions later,” he continues, quirking a smile at Kame, who takes him up on the offer and leans forward till Jin can almost feel Kame’s hot breath on his lips.
“Intense and scorching and each touch almost like fire,” Kame retaliates, voice dropping, and Jin shivers in spite of himself. Kame smiles, his teeth showing, and Jin feels a sharp surge of arousal. “Never knowing who can walk in,” and here Jin’s breath hitches when he imagines it. Kame’s eyes slide half-closed at Jin’s reaction.
“And marks everywhere,” Kame whispers, “In places that might not be seen, but you'll know,” he almost purrs, and Jin has to fight not to react to the satisfaction lacing the low voice. “You'll know,” Kame repeats, voice dropping further and trails a finger over the cool metal links of the chain around Jin’s neck. Jin’s staring right into Kame’s eyes, liquid and almost black, and doesn’t even register it when Kame hooks a finger around the thin chain and pulls.
Jin doesn’t quite remember exactly what followed after that, but has vague impressions of clever fingers trailing under his shirt, leaving him shivering in their wake, remembers the distinct sounds of buttons popping, can still feel the way Kame’s muscles moved under his hands when he finally got Kame’s t-shirt out of the way. He’s lost in a haze of sensation, most of which he blames on the fact that Kame’s kissing him like the world is ending, deep and sure but slow and in sharp contrast to the way his hands are reducing Jin into a shuddering, gasping mess. His legs are pinned down by Kame’s, and when he tries to move his hands, he realizes that his right wrist has been gripped firmly by Kame, whose thumb is tracing aimless designs right above Jin’s pulse, which is pounding so hard and fast, there is no way Kame can miss it.
Jin is dazedly thinking that Kame might have a point with the whole hard-and-fast thing, when he feels the fingers on his belt. He gasps when his zipper is pulled down in record time, and Kame pushes his hand in. Jin groans when he feels himself being gripped firmly, the resulting tiny, teasing strokes are too light, too slow, too... He opens his mouth to snap at Kame to go faster but the words are swiped from his mouth by a clever tongue.
Kame is tonguing Jin’s earlobe when Jin finally manages to get his wits back, and Jin’s annoyed to find that Kame’s still touching him like he’s afraid to break him. He arches up, gasping when Kame manages to find that one spot on the underside of Jin’s cock. Kame hones on to it with unerring instinct and rubs against it again and again and again, but still with the same light grip and speed, and goddammit why the fuck isn’t he going faster already.
Jin starts at Kame’s deep chuckle right next to his ear, and realizes belatedly that he might have said that aloud.
“Thought you liked it slow.” Kame’s voice is gritty, amused and Jin would totally smack the smugness off it if he isn’t... otherwise occupied.
“Oh, fuck you,” Jin mutters and ignores Kame’s stifled laughter. He brings his left hand back from where it has been gripping Kame’s forearm, and slides it into his open jeans. He clasps his hand over Kame’s, and bears down at the same time that he rolls his hips up. The unexpected action brings both of their hands into rough contact with Kame’s erection, and they groan simultaneously.
Kame looks down at the half-lidded eyes staring into his own, the swollen, parted lips, and feels some of his own resolve crumble as he leans down to kiss Jin again. Things move fast and hard, and they’re almost at the edge in a matter of minutes; Jin, shameless, his legs parted and head thrown back, arching up to meet Kame’s thrusts, and Kame with his head buried in Jin’s neck, panting and laving whatever skin he can reach while both their hands are buried between their legs, moving fast and slick and scorching.
Jin comes suddenly, abruptly, his whole body giving a sharp jerk when Kame’s hand fists him hard, thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock. The grip is tight enough that he almost blacks out, and that, along with the sensations that arose from Kame running his tongue over the fine skin of Jin’s collarbone, nipping enough to leave a small mark is just too much to sense, too much to feel, just too much.
Kame feels the deep shudders and jerks as Jin comes, feeling Jin’s fist clench on his cock. When he hears Jin’s sudden scream as he reaches completion, it fills him with smug satisfaction which ultimately drives him over the edge.
~
“See, I told you.”
Kame sighs and wonders why he always gets the post-coital babblers. “See what,” he asks finally, just to stop Jin from poking his back repeatedly. Kame doesn't need to look at him to know that Jin's grinning, wide and obnoxious.
“It’s all messy.”
Kame raises his head and gives Jin a look, who seems utterly undaunted. “But it was hot,” Kame feels the need to point out.
“Well yes. It’s sex,” Jin says, speaking slowly as if to a junior. “Sex is never un-hot.”
Kame stares at him, then scoffs. “You’re so full of it.”
“Shut up,” Jin says, indignant. “I have a point!” Kame rolls his eyes and pulls Jin’s hair back sharply to expose his throat, ignoring the sharp exhale.
“Ow, fucker,” Jin hisses, then struggles when Kame noses into Jin’s neck. “I’m sensitive there, you ass,” he grumbles, pushing lightly at Kame’s head. He stills when Kame drags a lazy tongue dangerously close to Jin’s collarbone.
“I know,” Kame breathes out, and Jin feels the smirk against his skin, and pulls on Kame’s hair in retaliation. It’s a while before they go back to their conversation.
“So, you were saying?” Kame reminds him, once they’re over their brief bout of energy and are once again collapsed over each other on the couch.
“Yeah, my point,” Jin laughs, warming to the subject; “is that it would’ve been hotter if it had been slower.”
Kame stills, raises his head and gives him a disbelieving look. They stare at each other for a few seconds, Kame, incredulous in the fact of Jin's impish expression. Jin is wondering whether he’s being too obvious again, and whether there’s any chance that Kame would fall for it, when he notices the calculation comes back into Kame’s eyes. He tongues the corner of his lips and tenses in anticipation.
“Only one way to find out,” Kame drawls at last, eyes sparking when Jin grins, slow and sharp.
---
Characters: Kame, Jin
Pairings: Akame
Genre: Humour, pwp
Rating: R, yaoi, rps
Status: Complete
A/N: Non-established akame
Dedication: crystallekil
Jin’s still worried about the dancing, but feels himself easing up gradually. It’s taken a while for him to remember the sequence, but once he does, once he hits his stride, he’s okay. Better than okay even; and he knows it. He relaxes and lets the moves flow naturally, and stifles a smirk when he feels eyes on him, different from the others. Not the exasperated eyerolls he’s been getting from the choreographers, or the discreet glances from the dancers. Something... different. He stretches casually as he straightens up from the crouched position that the routine ended on and sweeps his gaze around the immediate vicinity, trying to figure out who it was who's been staring at him.
The director is fussing with the camera with the frowning choreographer correcting Koki on one side. The back dancers and the rest of KAT-TUN are scattered around him, waiting for their cue, and a few members of the filming crew are hustling around. Hmm.
He's had to do the sequence more times than he cares to remember – the first time there was some problem with the lights, the second time Koki missed a step, the third time was his fault, the fourth time, someone in the back row messed up; it just went on and on and on.
And from the way the itch between his shoulder blades lessens when they all started dancing together, he figures that it's safe to assume that it’s either a KAT-TUN member who’s been checking him out (he can distinguish a checking-out glance when he feels one), or one of the dancers.
The next time they dance, he turns the wrong way and has to twist sharply to one side to stop Koki’s arm from hitting his face. It’s then that he sees Kamenashi, leaning against the wall, staring at them. He stumbles, offers a laughing apology to the director, but looks back at Kame the very next chance he gets, and finds him pulling at one of his bracelets. Jin also feels the eyes on him disappear at that instant, and grins in victory. Bingo.
~
“Long day, huh.”
“Uh huh.”
Jin gamely tries again. “Did you like the dancers?” He thinks of the black guy with the dreads he traded phone numbers with and grins in memory. “Ne, they were pretty cool, weren’t they?”
Kame hums in vague agreement, seemingly absorbed in his brand new cellphone. Probably discovering all the new and innovative ways he can incorporate emoji into his j–web, no doubt, Jin thinks, rolling his eyes.
“The dance was good though, wasn’t it?” he persists, and Kame nods, looking up. He’s gratified to see a flicker of interest in the dark gaze. “So which part did you like best?”
Jin tilts his head, trying his best to look innocent. Kame can see through him easily most of the time, but Jin can get away with things occasionally. Sometimes. Maybe. Jin frowns in memory, but feels a surge of satisfaction when Kame closes his phone and leans back.
“The part with you and Koki,” Kame offers readily, and Jin blinks. That was... remarkably easy. “I didn’t have to dance then, so,” Kame grins at Jin, who laughs back. He’s thinking of ways to get Kame to admit to watching him for other reasons when Kame starts talking.
“You two were really in sync, you know, it was pretty cool. Looked sexy,” Kame says, eyes unfocusing a bit in memory. “I kind of couldn’t take my eyes off Koki, actually.”
Jin nods, distracted, then blinks when he hears the words “sexy” and “Koki” in the same sentence. “What?” he asks, befuddled.
“His latest hair looks good on him, don’t you think? Sort of matches the way he moves,” Kame murmurs, still looking off into the distance.
“Koki?” Jin asks, eyebrows knotting. “I guess. But his hair feels like straw now, all rough,” he points out dubiously.
Kame grins, slants his eyes towards Jin. “Rough isn’t all that bad though, is it?”
Jin splutters. But Kame’s already looking away, off into the distance once more. “Not that bad at all,” he murmurs, answering his own question, his voice petering off. Jin looks at Kame, the way he settles back against the couch with a faint smile on his lips, watches how his fist grips the fabric, and has a pretty good idea where Kame’s thoughts are headed, because Kame’s probably the most perverted of them all and he’s at his most predictable when he’s thinking about sex.
Jin feels the slow burn of anger when he realizes that Kame’s watched them dance together, when Jin was at his best and clearly the best in the group, and all he focused was on Koki. Motherfucking Koki, what the fuck. That guy can’t even work his hips half as well as Jin. He rants internally, irritation surging as he stares incredulously at Kame.
“Sometimes smooth is good too, don’t you think?” he snaps, when Kame remains oblivious to his glares.
“Mm,” Kame replies, but it’s painfully obvious that he’s paying very little attention to Jin. He’s sprawled across the couch, one hand propping his head up and the other tracing distracting designs on the fabric. A corner of his lips is turned up into a lazy smirk, and his eyes are half-open and focused on something in the distance that is most definitely not Jin.
It’s that last thought that spurs Jin into action. He moves forward until he’s right in front of Kame, and blocks his line of sight so Kame has no choice but to (finally!) look at Jin. Kame raises a brow when he notices the expression on Jin’s face: brows furrowed, lips turned down, fists clenched; classic signs of a upcoming Bakanishi tantrum. He blinks and wonders what could’ve happened in the past five minutes to get Jin into prissy diva mode, then resigns himself to it when Jin narrows his eyes at him.
“It’s overrated,” Jin abruptly snaps, and Kame is honestly confused.
“Um. What?” he asks, blinking.
Jin leans back against the table. “Being all impatient, done in just a few minutes,” he says, voice lowering. “Clothes still on and come getting everywhere,” and yes, Kame’s eyes widen as he gets it; “Being all sweaty and messy after,” Jin continues, eyes never looking away from Kame’s gradually darkening ones.
“Part of the fun,” Kame counters instantly, and Jin’s eyes flicker with interest. They’ve always been competitive, and neither of them have ever been able to turn down a challenge from the other. “Getting to touch what you can, hotter to have the clothes on.” Kame doesn’t even bother to sit up, and Jin feels another surge of irritation, and tries to hide it as best he can.
Jin gives an exaggerated shrug. “Better to take your own time, do it slow,” he says, and wonders why he keeps going at it when he likes rough sex as much as anyone else. Then again, admitting that means Kame wins. Jin narrows his eyes. Not happening. Now what was that he said before... oh yeah. “Better that way, or it ends up gross,” he says, grimacing, thinking about that time with Ueda.
Kame laughs silently. “Clearly you haven’t been doing it right,” he remarks, and Jin wants to hit him. “Might be messier, but fast and dirty is addicting, almost...” Jin can’t stop himself from leaning forward when Kame trails off, and the glint in Kame’s eyes tell Jin that he’s noticed.
“Almost electrifying,” Kame muses, and Jin wonders just how many times Kame’s fucked backstage and who, and whether it was ever when Jin was nearby. The thought leaves him half-aroused and uncomfortably warm. “On the bed, going inch by inch,” he whispers, licking his lips, and Kame’s eyes sharpen. “Letting it build up, gradual.”
“Getting an overload of stimulation,” Kame challenges, “All heat and desperation.”
“Like a slow burn, hotter and hotter till the perfect moment,” Jin murmurs, moving forward to rest his hands on the couch, boxing Kame in. “No need to have marks everywhere, no awkward questions later,” he continues, quirking a smile at Kame, who takes him up on the offer and leans forward till Jin can almost feel Kame’s hot breath on his lips.
“Intense and scorching and each touch almost like fire,” Kame retaliates, voice dropping, and Jin shivers in spite of himself. Kame smiles, his teeth showing, and Jin feels a sharp surge of arousal. “Never knowing who can walk in,” and here Jin’s breath hitches when he imagines it. Kame’s eyes slide half-closed at Jin’s reaction.
“And marks everywhere,” Kame whispers, “In places that might not be seen, but you'll know,” he almost purrs, and Jin has to fight not to react to the satisfaction lacing the low voice. “You'll know,” Kame repeats, voice dropping further and trails a finger over the cool metal links of the chain around Jin’s neck. Jin’s staring right into Kame’s eyes, liquid and almost black, and doesn’t even register it when Kame hooks a finger around the thin chain and pulls.
Jin doesn’t quite remember exactly what followed after that, but has vague impressions of clever fingers trailing under his shirt, leaving him shivering in their wake, remembers the distinct sounds of buttons popping, can still feel the way Kame’s muscles moved under his hands when he finally got Kame’s t-shirt out of the way. He’s lost in a haze of sensation, most of which he blames on the fact that Kame’s kissing him like the world is ending, deep and sure but slow and in sharp contrast to the way his hands are reducing Jin into a shuddering, gasping mess. His legs are pinned down by Kame’s, and when he tries to move his hands, he realizes that his right wrist has been gripped firmly by Kame, whose thumb is tracing aimless designs right above Jin’s pulse, which is pounding so hard and fast, there is no way Kame can miss it.
Jin is dazedly thinking that Kame might have a point with the whole hard-and-fast thing, when he feels the fingers on his belt. He gasps when his zipper is pulled down in record time, and Kame pushes his hand in. Jin groans when he feels himself being gripped firmly, the resulting tiny, teasing strokes are too light, too slow, too... He opens his mouth to snap at Kame to go faster but the words are swiped from his mouth by a clever tongue.
Kame is tonguing Jin’s earlobe when Jin finally manages to get his wits back, and Jin’s annoyed to find that Kame’s still touching him like he’s afraid to break him. He arches up, gasping when Kame manages to find that one spot on the underside of Jin’s cock. Kame hones on to it with unerring instinct and rubs against it again and again and again, but still with the same light grip and speed, and goddammit why the fuck isn’t he going faster already.
Jin starts at Kame’s deep chuckle right next to his ear, and realizes belatedly that he might have said that aloud.
“Thought you liked it slow.” Kame’s voice is gritty, amused and Jin would totally smack the smugness off it if he isn’t... otherwise occupied.
“Oh, fuck you,” Jin mutters and ignores Kame’s stifled laughter. He brings his left hand back from where it has been gripping Kame’s forearm, and slides it into his open jeans. He clasps his hand over Kame’s, and bears down at the same time that he rolls his hips up. The unexpected action brings both of their hands into rough contact with Kame’s erection, and they groan simultaneously.
Kame looks down at the half-lidded eyes staring into his own, the swollen, parted lips, and feels some of his own resolve crumble as he leans down to kiss Jin again. Things move fast and hard, and they’re almost at the edge in a matter of minutes; Jin, shameless, his legs parted and head thrown back, arching up to meet Kame’s thrusts, and Kame with his head buried in Jin’s neck, panting and laving whatever skin he can reach while both their hands are buried between their legs, moving fast and slick and scorching.
Jin comes suddenly, abruptly, his whole body giving a sharp jerk when Kame’s hand fists him hard, thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock. The grip is tight enough that he almost blacks out, and that, along with the sensations that arose from Kame running his tongue over the fine skin of Jin’s collarbone, nipping enough to leave a small mark is just too much to sense, too much to feel, just too much.
Kame feels the deep shudders and jerks as Jin comes, feeling Jin’s fist clench on his cock. When he hears Jin’s sudden scream as he reaches completion, it fills him with smug satisfaction which ultimately drives him over the edge.
~
“See, I told you.”
Kame sighs and wonders why he always gets the post-coital babblers. “See what,” he asks finally, just to stop Jin from poking his back repeatedly. Kame doesn't need to look at him to know that Jin's grinning, wide and obnoxious.
“It’s all messy.”
Kame raises his head and gives Jin a look, who seems utterly undaunted. “But it was hot,” Kame feels the need to point out.
“Well yes. It’s sex,” Jin says, speaking slowly as if to a junior. “Sex is never un-hot.”
Kame stares at him, then scoffs. “You’re so full of it.”
“Shut up,” Jin says, indignant. “I have a point!” Kame rolls his eyes and pulls Jin’s hair back sharply to expose his throat, ignoring the sharp exhale.
“Ow, fucker,” Jin hisses, then struggles when Kame noses into Jin’s neck. “I’m sensitive there, you ass,” he grumbles, pushing lightly at Kame’s head. He stills when Kame drags a lazy tongue dangerously close to Jin’s collarbone.
“I know,” Kame breathes out, and Jin feels the smirk against his skin, and pulls on Kame’s hair in retaliation. It’s a while before they go back to their conversation.
“So, you were saying?” Kame reminds him, once they’re over their brief bout of energy and are once again collapsed over each other on the couch.
“Yeah, my point,” Jin laughs, warming to the subject; “is that it would’ve been hotter if it had been slower.”
Kame stills, raises his head and gives him a disbelieving look. They stare at each other for a few seconds, Kame, incredulous in the fact of Jin's impish expression. Jin is wondering whether he’s being too obvious again, and whether there’s any chance that Kame would fall for it, when he notices the calculation comes back into Kame’s eyes. He tongues the corner of his lips and tenses in anticipation.
“Only one way to find out,” Kame drawls at last, eyes sparking when Jin grins, slow and sharp.
---
