JE, BYOY (Bring Your Own Yamashita)

Title: BYOY (Bring Your Own Yamashita) [Shoon/Ryo/Jin/Yamapi]
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for Ryo getting it exactly like he wants it.
Summary: Ryo shows up with Pi, so it’s only fair that Jin gets to bring his own Yamashita.
AN: For swtjemz, who somehow talked me into writing this over AIM until 4:30 AM. Thanks to marksykins for betaing the heinous, heinous delerium.

Remixed by Musikologie here.

BYOY (Bring Your Own Yamashita)

“You got to bring a friend,” Jin said, tossing his hair out of his eyes with a casual flick of his head so he could eye Ryo. “So I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

Off to the side, Shoon fidgeted with his bracelet, looking uncertainly from Jin to Yamapi to Ryo.

“My friend is your boyfriend,” Ryo pointed out, “and also not fourteen.”

“Hey!” Shoon protested. “I’m not fourteen! I’m legal enough for everything, except drinking, and that means in YOUR band I’ve been legal enough for everything for two years!”

Ryo’s eyes narrowed, but Yamapi cut off whatever his response would be with a loud laugh. “See? I told you he was cute when we got him riled up!”

Jin and Shoon exchanged displeased glances.

“Ne, Shoon-kun,” Jin said, wrapping and arm around his shoulder and starting to turn them around. “I’ve changed my mind. I think we could have much more fun on our own…”

Yamapi shot Ryo an aggrieved look, then jogged two steps to wedge himself in between Jin and Shoon, an arm around each of their waists, and swung them right back around.

“Now, now, don’t get your teensy scarf in a twist,” he said. Jin opened his mouth to say something, but Yamapi ran fingers up his side, and Jin’s mouth shut with a snap.

Shoon, who really did have a teensy scarf, closed his fists around the ends of it and tugged on it, eyes still wary as he shot glances between Yamapi and Ryo.

“Legal for anything, huh?” Ryo asked, one hand on his hip and the other coming to brush thoughtfully at his lower lip with his thumb.

Shoon gave a stubborn nod, sliding an arm around Yamapi’s waist and giving his best Jin-style hair flick.

“Well, then,” Ryo shrugged, and reached over to wrap his hand in the ends of the scarf before giving it a solid yank that brought Shoon out from Yamapi’s grasp and crashed him into Ryo’s side with a grunt.

“Hey now,” Yamapi protested, before Jin took advantage of the situation to loop both his arms around Yamapi’s waist.

“Shut up,” Ryo said dismissively, tilting Shoon’s chin down to examine his face, like he was considering a purchase if the merchandise measured up. Shoon’s expression, on the other hand, was far closer to “Not buying.”

“You’re pointy,” he said, dark eyes narrowed underneath the fringe that was cut to always be in his eyes. “And kind of short.”

Ryo smiled, which probably meant that somebody was about to get killed, and purred, “So sorry I can’t measure to Gigantor or anyone else you have in your little playgroup. But at least I can sing.”

“Uh, Ryo-chan…” Yamapi tried to interrupt, but too late. Shoon gave a soft snarl, pulled back one pointy ankle boot, and nailed Ryo right in the shin, making him give an undignified yelp.

“Shit!” said Jin, reaching out to yank Shoon out of range by the collar. Ryo made a grab for Shoon, but only managed to catch the end of his scarf, which pulled off his neck and dangled fluffily in Ryo’s hand.

“Aw, don’t fight! I don’t want to be the adult,” Yamapi whined, glancing between the other three. Ryo wrapped the ends of the scarf around his hands and pulled the middle taut like a garrote. Tucked snug against Jin’s side with his throat protected by Jin’s forearm, Shoon stuck out his tongue.

Suddenly, Ryo started laughing.

“I like him!” Ryo declared, making Yamapi, Jin, and Shoon all blink. Ryo popped the loop of the scarf over Yamapi’s head and started walking away, leading Yamapi along, with Jin and Shoon trailing behind by their still-linked arms. “Let’s go to my place!”

Shoon still looked pretty confused when he found himself sitting on Ryo’s couch, in between Jin and Yamapi, hands wrapped around something blue that burned the back of his throat.

Ryo was sitting on the coffee table right in front of Shoon, still examining him. A bottle of red alcohol was sitting beside him on the table, forgotten. Because the couch was low and Shoon’s ass was sunk in the cushion, in this position Ryo seemed taller than Shoon, despite the 5 or so cm discrepancy between them.

It was clearly on purpose. Shoon took another sip of blue stuff and swallowed a cough.

Jin, who was three-quarters of the way through a green bottle, let his head tip sideways onto Shoon’s shoulder, the flip of his hair tickling Shoon’s cheek. “Ryo-chan?”

“Hmm?” Ryo answered, eyes still on Shoon. Shoon gave a tiny wriggle, the beginnings of a buzz dulling but not eliminating his look of vague unease under the scrutiny.

“He wants to know why our pants are still on,” Yamapi put in, reaching over to pick up Ryo’s bottle. He put it to the lip of his own bottle, clear, and tipped in several inches of the red with a practiced hand, eyes tracking the spill of the alcohol.

When he swirled the bottle to mix the two colors, his drink turned pink, and he sat Ryo’s bottle back down with a satisfied grin.

“Exactly!” Jin flashed Yamapi an awkward half-heart with the fingers that were curled around his bottle, and then he tipped his head back and drained the rest of his drink, throat working in a lazy slide.

Ignoring both of them completely, Ryo suddenly shifted forward, off the coffee table and into Shoon’s lap. His knees dug into the couch cushion on either side of Shoon’s thighs, and he slid neatly down into Shoon’s lap until their groins were tucked neatly together, making Shoon give a little hiccup of surprise.

Helpfully, Jin tugged Shoon’s bottle out of his hand, leaning forward to thunk his own empty one down on the coffee table. Yamapi held his bottle up over Shoon’s head for Jin to clink his against in a toast, pink to blue.

Shoon took a deep breath and, since whatever Ryo was thinking was making him smirk cruelly, tilted his head back to press his mouth to Ryo’s.

Ryo gave a hum of surprise, the buzz of it plus the tingle of the alcohol on Shoon’s lips making Shoon shiver, and brought his hands up to dig fingers into Shoon’s shoulders. When Ryo pulled back, Shoon ran the tip of his tongue over his lips and gave a hum of his own, pleased. “Mmm, purple.”

“Can we make purple?” Jin asked, examining the contents of Shoon’s bottle, now about an inch lower. “Purple looks tasty.”

“Maybe lavender,” Yamapi answered, having turned himself for a better view, his back resting against the arm of the couch and one leg pulled up against his chest. “But I’m cool.”

Shoon leaned up for another kiss, frowning when Ryo held him down by tightening his grip on Shoon’s shoulders. The corner of Ryo’s mouth curled as Shoon flexed his shoulders, testing. Then Shoon’s frown turned into a pout, his hair fell in his eyes a little more, and his hands came up against Ryo’s back, tugging the back of his shirt loose from his jeans.

“That’s very clever,” Ryo murmured as Shoon ran a single fingertip over the bottom four bumps of his spine, up and down. “But you know, I taught Akanishi-kun that trick when he was fourteen.”

The beginnings of Shoon’s smirk turned back into a frown, just before Ryo dug thumbs into the dips of Shoon’s collarbone, and Shoon let his head fall back with a soft groan.

“Hey!” Yamapi protested, frowning. “I didn’t learn that trick till I was sixteen!”

“You’re slow.” Jin shrugged, squinting at the inch of blue in Shoon’s bottle as if trying to figure out who was drinking it.

“You’re a cheap drunk,” Yamapi retorted, draining the last of his own bottle and setting it aside on the table. “Look behind the couch and see if there’s any more of the clear.”

“Nooo, we’re making purple,” Jin informed him, scrambling up onto his knees and turning to lean over the back of the couch, his hips caught on the back of it so that his ass wiggled in the air as he rifled through the box. “Whoa, man, all my blood just took the Shinkansen to my brain.”

“Hey, now,” Ryo said, using his forefinger and thumb to turn Shoon’s wandering gaze away from Jin’s hip-rolling and squarely back onto him. “Let’s not lose focus.”

Shoon gave Ryo a sweet smile, then slid both hands deep into the back of his jeans and dug his nails into Ryo’s ass.

“Fuck!” Ryo’s back arched in a perfect curve, driving his hips forward to grind against Shoon’s and his thumbs deeper into Shoon’s collarbones, and Shoon’s groan was much louder and more self-satisfied that time.

“I do have a whole band of my own, you know,” he said when Ryo got his head back up to glare down at him. “Once in a while I teach them tricks.”

“Jin, hurry up!” Yamapi ordered, sitting up and leaning around Shoon’s head to slap Jin’s ass.

“Ow!” said Jin, and then the quarter-inch he’d slid forward pushed his center of gravity over the back of the couch, and he tipped right over the edge to land with a crash, half on the hardwood and half in the box.

Yamapi darted a glance from Shoon and Ryo over the back of the couch. “Jin?”

“Owwwww…” Jin’s voice was thin and wavery, and Yamapi gave a little whine as he took a last roaming gaze over the action beside him, then pushed himself over the back of the couch to check on Jin.

“Finally!” Ryo growled, sliding off Shoon’s lap into the space Yamapi had vacated. Shoon wrinkled his brow, but before he could ask anything, Ryo had seized two fistfuls of his shirt and yanked him down, twisting his legs around so that they got more or less horizontal on the couch, Shoon on top of Ryo and his hips cradled perfectly by Ryo’s thighs.

“Eh?” Shoon asked, staring down at Ryo.

“Expecting the bottom?” Ryo asked, like he was talking to a trainee, and Shoon bristled. “Well, Shoon-chan, if that’s what your heart’s set on, we can certainly work that out…”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” Shoon demanded, shoving Ryo’s shoulders back down against the couch when he made as if to sit up, then leaning down to force him quiet with a bruising kiss. Ryo started rocking his hips, or maybe Shoon did, it didn’t matter, and Ryo got his hands on the warm skin of Shoon’s sides, up under his shirt where it was hanging loose.

“Mm, yeah, just…” Ryo let his thighs spread just a little wider, shifted just a little to the right, and both of them moaned, one of Shoon’s hands leaving Ryo’s shoulder to yank at his hair.

“Wait,” Shoon said suddenly, lifting his head and making Ryo growl in irritation; he’d heard something other than the squeak of the couch springs. Ryo started to speak, but Shoon told him to shut up, pinching the tendon in Ryo’s neck. Sure enough, after a second, they heard a soft sniffling. “Jin?”

They didn’t get a response right away, and Ryo heaved an irritated sigh. “Oi, Bakanishi! Are you okay?”

“No,” came Jin’s muffled voice after a second, and Shoon let go of Ryo all at once, scrambling up onto his knees to peer over the back of the couch. After a moment and another grumble, Ryo followed suit.

Jin was curled up in Yamapi’s lap, one arm cradled against his chest, the box of drinks overturned and colored bottles scattered about. Fortunately, none of them looked shattered, and Shoon let out the breath he’d been holding. Yamapi was stroking Jin’s hair and looked up to give them a sheepish shrug.

“His wrist,” he explained, and Jin gave another sniffle, rubbing his cheek against the bottom of Yamapi’s shirt. “His hand was in the box when he went over, I think he twisted it a little.”

“Jin-senpai!” Shoon exclaimed, vaulting over the couch.

“No, the bottles, you moron!” Ryo shouted, reaching to yank him back, but missing entirely. He gritted his teeth and braced for the crash of broken glass, but instead all he heard was the thunk of Shoon’s tight JE ass hitting the hardwood.

“Only those two,” Ryo grumbled, letting his breath out in a whoosh, then he stood up and walked around the couch like a normal person.

Until he put his socked foot right down on a bottle and it rolled out from under him, spilling him hard to the ground, and knocking the wind out of him when his own tight JE ass met the hardwood.

“Un. Fucking. Believable.” he groaned when he had enough air to do so. He rolled painfully on his side to find Shoon and Yamapi still leaning over Jin. Yamapi was running careful fingers over Jin’s wrist, while Shoon distracted him by checking him over for other injuries with thorough hands.

“Hmm?” Shoon glanced over his shoulder. “What are you doing down there?”

“Oh, you are so on the bottom now, you brat,” Ryo informed him, pushing himself to a sitting position with a groan.

“Can you bend it?” Yamapi asked, and Shoon turned back to watch anxiously as Jin gave his wrist a try, wincing.

“Yeah.” He nodded, then his eyes went wide. “Oh, no! Pi, this is my important hand!”

“It’s your secret handshake hand, yeah,” Yamapi said, nodding sadly.

“Oh,” Jin looked even more put out, “that too.”

“Is jerking off all you can think about at a time like this?” Ryo demanded, crawling over to knock Yamapi’s hand aside and take his own look. He bent Jin’s wrist a little one way and a little another, made him wiggle his fingers. “It’s not swelling much, and you can move it. I think it’s just bruised or maybe strained a little, but nothing serious. We should ice it right away though, just in case.”

“Sorry, Pi,” Jin said as Ryo climbed to his feet and limped towards his kitchen to fetch the ice. “So much for wild drunken orgies.”

“Don’t be sorry, you moron,” Yamapi said, going back to stroking Jin’s hair out of his face. “I’m just glad you’re okay! And you can barely manage wild orgies sober.”

Jin set his jaw stubbornly. “I just need more practice.”

Shoon glanced down and found that his hands, finished checking Jin over, had come to a halt on Jin’s side and were rubbing slow circles, slowly pushing Jin’s shirt up. Flicking a glance at Jin’s face, turned up towards Yamapi, Shoon pushed the soft, thin fabric aside and laid his warm palm down square on Jin’s bare skin.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Jin picked his head up to ask, “Shoon?”

“We could help you,” Shoon offered, letting his hair fall into his eyes and giving Jin a hopeful smile. “Practice, I mean. If it would distract you.”

When Ryo returned from the kitchen, wrapping a dish towel around a plastic baggie of ice, he found Jin lying flat on the floor, pants halfway down his thighs, and Shoon’s mouth significantly more than halfway down his cock.

“You can’t be serious!” Ryo took a step forward to break them up, but Yamapi, still sitting where he was when Ryo left, caught at his leg, stopping him.

“Give them a minute, ne?” he said, making no move to remove his hand from Ryo’s calf, and Ryo heaved a sigh and stayed where he was, ice starting to numb his hand.

It certainly was a nice enough view, Jin’s good hand buried in Shoon’s hair, his hips flexing, Shoon’s soft, pleased noises just barely audible over Jin’s encouraging murmurs. Yamapi shifted a little, fingers rubbing against Ryo’s leg, and Ryo gave a “Tcht.”

Jin lifted his head just far enough to squint at them. “Hey, this isn’t an orgy.”

“It’s just practice,” Shoon said, lifting his mouth away from Jin’s cock. His eyes were dark, and the way his bottom lip was starting to puff up made the smile he gave Jin even more charming. “It might take us a few tries.”

“Oh god,” Jin groaned, letting his head thunk back against the floor. “Somebody carry me to the bed!”

“It’s your wrist that’s hurt, you jackass!” Ryo snapped, stalking over to drop the ice on Jin’s chest. “There’s nothing wrong with your legs, unless they learned their tricks from your brain!”

“Ryo-chaaaaan,” Jin whined, moving his hurt wrist out from where Ryo had dropped the ice bag on it. Ryo ground his teeth, and reached down to help yank Jin up by his good hand.

Shoon helpfully kept his fingers in Jin’s belt loops, so that as Jin stood, his pants stayed on the floor, where everyone wanted them.

“Wow!” Shoon said once they got into the bedroom, Yamapi trailing behind him and experimentally sloshing a half-full bottle of red in one hand, and a half-full bottle of blue in the other. “Nishikido-kun really does have a huge bed.”

“Ueda’s is bigger,” Jin commented, flopping down and rooting around happily in the slick comforter, then giving a pathetic “Ow!” when he jarred his wrist again.

“Yeah, but there’s that poster.” Yamapi tilted just a bit more of the blue into the red and held up the bottle to examine it against the light. “Ne, Shoon-kun?”

Shoon reached up to wrap fingers around Yamapi’s wrist and pull the bottle back down. He ran the tip of his tongue around the rim of the bottle, Yamapi’s eyes tracking the movement, then shook his head. “Pour about half of that back into the red.”

“Get off my comforter,” Ryo ordered, crossing his arms and glaring down at Jin. “Unless you want a repeat of last time.”

“Yeah yeah.” Jin rolled up against the pillows so that Ryo could pull the comforter down and push it off the bed, hopefully out of harm’s way, and Jin went right back to snuggling in the soft sheets underneath. After a scathing glance, Ryo crawled in beside him and let Jin curl up against his side, then reached over to reposition the ice squarely on Jin’s wrist.

They both turned to see Yamapi take an experimental swig of the newly mixed bottle, eyebrows flaring. “Ne, ne, like this?”

Shoon put a hand on either side of Yamapi’s face, then leaned in and pressed their mouths together, testing out the taste with long, unhurried sweeps of his tongue inside Yamapi’s mouth.

When he pulled away, both of their eyes heavy-lidded and glassy, Shoon hummed his approval, gave Yamapi a smile and another quick, sweet kiss, then tugged the bottle out of his hand and skipped over to crawl up on the bed next to Jin.

“Hey!” Yamapi said a second later, after he’d snapped out of his daze, and Jin and Shoon both giggled. Yamapi grumbled, then took a swig out of the failed purple still in his other hand, shrugging, and sauntered over to the bed as well.

“Lemme try that,” Ryo said, making a deft grab for Shoon’s bottle when it was in Jin’s hand. Shoon squawked, but Jin distracted him by starting to unbutton his shirt. Ryo tipped the bottle up against his lips, sipping it while he kept one eye on Yamapi’s approach. “Should you really be trying to walk and drink at the same time, Yamapi?”

Yamapi sneered at Ryo, then tripped over the trailing cuff of his jeans, making Jin choke on a swallow of alcohol and Shoon giggle again into the curve of Jin’s neck.

“Ugh,” was Ryo’s verdict, “too sweet,” and he handed the bottle back to a now shirtless Shoon, who was indulgently watching Jin fail to unzip his pants one-handed. And then, Ryo turned back to Yamapi and eyed the bottle that was still in his hand. “Give me that one.”

“There’s like ten of these on the floor out there you know,” Yamapi grumbled, but the answer was that no, he could not drink and remove his pants at the same time, so he handed Ryo the bottle and concentrated on unzipping and shoving for a second. Jin glanced longingly over his shoulder, then went back to snarling at Shoon’s zipper.

This bottle’s color was much darker than Shoon’s, and the flavor when it burned over Ryo’s tongue was more complex, which certainly explained the simpletons’ dislike of it. Ryo, on the other hand, was a connoisseur and tipped back the bottle for another, longer swallow.

When he lowered it, Yamapi was standing in front of him, naked, one hand out to demand his bottle back. Ryo ran his tongue over his lower lip and said that maybe Yamapi should just try and take it.

Yamapi crawled up into Ryo’s lap just as Ryo tipped the bottle back for the last swallow, but it ended up being a bit more than a mouthful, and the extra rolled down over Ryo’s chin and chest as Yamapi darted in to snatch half of the drink with a messy kiss. On the other hand, after he’d taken what he wanted from Ryo’s mouth, Yamapi didn’t seem to mind sliding down to catch the stray drops with his tongue.

“Heyyyyy,” Jin slurred, apparently having downed a good bit of the other drink and finally through losing to Shoon’s pants. He reached over to slap his palm against Ryo’s thigh. “That’s my boyfriend you’ve got over there.”

It didn’t seem to be of much concern to Jin that Shoon was curled tight against his side, one knee thrown over Jin’s thigh and nuzzling the curve of Jin’s neck.

“Trade you,” Ryo said, and Shoon looked very indignant indeed when he found himself rolled promptly over to sprawl against Ryo’s chest.

“Hi!” Jin greeted Yamapi as Yamapi slid over top of him, both of their hips already moving in long-established rhythm. He lifted his good hand to curl the familiar half-heart against Yamapi’s matching hand, which was already forming the missing piece.

“Hi,” Yamapi replied, and then leaned down to kiss Jin, lazy and thorough and possessive, like they didn’t have anywhere to be for the next century.

“Don’t mind them,” Ryo said, once again having to forcibly move Shoon’s dangling jaw to get the attention back on him. “They get a little worked up if they haven’t had sickeningly simultaneous orgasms in the last ten minutes.”

Ryo’s fingers tightened on Shoon’s jaw when Shoon’s eyes darted to the side at the sound of a (perfectly harmonized B sharp) moan, and then Shoon’s gaze locked onto Ryo all at once, going sharp and calculating.

“I’m taller than you,” he said, “and I’m topping.”

Ryo swallowed his pending response of “So you do know more than one trick after all,” and instead said, “there’s lube and condoms in the bedside table.”

Giving Ryo a look with an eyebrow which plainly told him to stay exactly where he was, Shoon leaned back and opened the drawer in the table, rattling his hand through the contents until he came up with a bottle and a strip of—of course—purple condoms.

Ryo frowned. “I didn’t buy those.”

Shoon gave a condescending “Mmhmm,” and dropped the condoms on the bed to examine the bottle of lubricant, shaking it and smirking at its half-full sloshing.

“If you lose the cap to that,” Ryo said as Shoon reached for the cap, “I throw you out the window.”

Shoon rolled his eyes, stuck the cap between his teeth, and yanked it off. He made a big show of taking the cap out of his mouth and dropping it behind him in the drawer, then shoving the drawer shut.

But Ryo regained his sense of superiority when Shoon slid the first finger into him as though expecting him to burst into tears at any moment. “Of course you’ve been trained by the idiots, but you don’t have to treat me like them, you realize.”

Ryo tilted his chin, and they both turned their heads to watch for a minute as Yamapi stroked both his and Jin’s cocks, caught together in his palm, whispering something into Jin’s ear that was making Jin laugh and thrust up against him, hurt wrist totally forgotten.

“Right,” Shoon said, turning his attention back to Ryo and waiting until his attention was refocused as well. When Shoon had it, he gave Ryo the same sweet smile he’d given Yamapi, then slammed two fingers into Ryo as far as they would go, making him curse and twist his hands in the sheets.

“Brat,” he ground out through clenched teeth when Shoon didn’t really wait to start moving things about.

“Ah, so you do like it better this way,” Shoon said, then did something with the knuckle of his index finger that made Ryo throw back his head and moan another string of curses.

“Okay, enough,” Ryo gasped, kicking his heel against the outside of Shoon’s thigh when Shoon didn’t respond right away. He reached forward to grab Shoon’s cock, laying heavy against his thigh. He gave it one smooth stroke, hard enough to make Shoon lean into it with a body ripple that looked more than passingly familiar. “Let’s go already.”

“Quit trying to top from your back,” Shoon retorted, pulling out of Ryo rough enough to make him hiss. He scooped the condoms back off and tore one off the strip. “If I don’t take it from my own band, I’m sure not going to take it from you.”

“Who the hell in your band tries to top people from anywhere?” Ryo demanded, before Shoon ripped the condom packet open with his teeth, and Ryo’s throat closed up with a combination of pure want, and also irritation. “Dammit, Yamashita’s shown that trick to fucking everybody.”

“I’m going!” Shoon announced, twisting a perfectly polite phrase to his own uses like any successful junior would, and then he was pushing inside Ryo, steadily, but having to work for it since Ryo had rushed him through the preparation on purpose.

Ryo let out an involuntarily groan that wasn’t entirely pleasure, but when Shoon narrowed his eyes and slowed down, he grabbed Shoon’s ass in both hands and yanked him forward, yelping as Shoon sank in the rest of the way and tumbled forward, just barely catching himself above Ryo’s chest with his palms flat on the bed.

“Sorry,” Shoon panted, closing his eyes against the hot throb of Ryo’s body fighting him.

“Don’t be sorry,” Ryo snapped, flexing his hips and making another raw noise. “Fucking move!”

Shoon took a deep, shuddering breath, then got his eyes open again so that he could shrug down at Ryo. “Fine, if that’s the way you want it…”

The first real thrust of Shoon’s, sharp and short, was exactly how Ryo wanted it, and since Shoon’s ass felt so good in his hands, Ryo left them right where they were, squeezing the soft, hot skin and helping to coax Shoon into just the right angle.

Or maybe for holding on as Shoon got his knees under him and nailed Ryo with perfect precision, just as vicious and accurate as his kick to Ryo’s shin had been earlier, and provoking every bit as involuntary a response.

“Glad I didn’t tie you up,” Shoon panted, hands sliding to get a better grip on Ryo’s biceps, digging his fingers into the skin, “because you might want to start jerking yourself off if you want to come while I’m still fucking you.”

“Don’t have to tell him twice,” Yamapi purred from close by, and Shoon and Ryo both spared a second to shoot him and Jin a snarling glance. They were curled up together in a post-coital tangle, Yamapi’s fingers twisting Jin’s hair into fat curls, Jin’s stomach a complete mess.

“Hope not,” Shoon said, just as Ryo told them, “Fuck off,” and then he spit on his palm and shoved his hand in between himself and Shoon, wrapping it tight around his cock and squeezing with a groan.

“That’s almost hotter than Tegoshi’s magic trick with the ping-pong balls,” Shoon mumbled, and Ryo looked up to see Shoon watching, right on the edge of coming and possibly not even aware he’d spoken out loud.

“You gonna lose to a junior?” Jin asked, voice all innocent curiosity, and Ryo growled that there was no way in hell that was going to happen, and gave his cock a vicious twisting stroke that sent him over edge all at once, eyes squeezed shut and body curling and only dimly aware of Shoon’s answering throat-tearing shout.

“Hey,” Yamapi said sometime later, poking Ryo in the cheek. “You aren’t dead, are you?”

“Get lost.” Ryo slapped at Yamapi’s hand, then gasped and curled into a ball as fire shot up his forearm.

“What the hell?” Yamapi sat up on one elbow to peer at Ryo. When he blinked away the pain tears, Ryo saw that Jin was tucked in against Yamapi’s side, the curve of his body holding the ice bag in place against his wrist. The warm weight sprawled against Ryo’s back had to be Shoon, then.

“My wrist,” Ryo answered, holding it up and bending it lightly this way and that, “my fucking wrist it…FUCK!” Ryo stared at his hand in disbelief, then thought of his final, wrenching stroke. “I think I strained my fucking wrist.”

A snicker made Ryo look up with a growl, but Yamapi held up a hand in innocence, not even smiling. Narrowing his eyes, Ryo rolled over.

“Wrong Yamashita,” Shoon shrugged, giving him a cheerful smile, and when Ryo growled again and reached to grab his thigh, Shoon scrambled over top of him to hide behind Jin and Yamapi, his laughter waking Jin out of his doze.

“Wassup?” Jin yawned, stretching his arms over his head, then blinking and rolling his wrist more deliberately. “Hey, my wrist doesn’t hurt!”

Ryo snarled something wordless and obscene, then pounced in a flurry of fingers and teeth that sent ice cubes scattering in all directions.

“They seem busy,” Yamapi said, letting Jin be yanked out of his arms and rolling over to face Shoon. “And like someone might get sent to the hospital. But there’s a couch and more alcohol in the other room.”

Shoon brightened immediately, stretching his arms waaaaay out, just like his senpai, and giving Yamapi his best adorable kouhai grin. “Have you ever tried Ultramarine?”

“I think I ate that flavor pocky once,” Yamapi answered, and then Shoon grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the bed and out of the way, just as Jin and Ryo rolled off the bed and right onto Ryo’s comforter.

Both Yamashitas watched them for a moment, Shoon twisting his hand around to lace their fingers together, and then they grinned at each other and sauntered happily out to the living room together.

Remixed by Musikologie here.

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