B.A.D., All Work And No Play

Title: All Work And No Play [Junta/Akito]
Rating/Warnings: R for B.A.D. being a true JE duo, if you catch my drift.
Summary: Takaki won’t play with Akito today, and Akito seeks out Junta for consolation.
AN: I DON’T EVEN KNOW, OKAY.

All Work And No Play

Junta is industriously studying ahead in his script when from the hall he hears a “Awww, Takaki-kun isn’t any fun today!” and he hurries to finish memorizing the line he’s on, because any moment now…

“Juntaaa!” Akito whines as he barrels through the dressing room’s door. Heedless of what Junta’s doing, Akito drops on the couch beside him in a sprawl and nestles his head in Junta’s lap to pout up at him. “Takaki won’t play with me today!”

“Poor Aki-chan,” Junta croons, pinching Akito’s cheek to make him scowl. “Maybe Takaki actually wants to get some work done?”

“Like you?” Akito stretches out and gets even more comfortable when Junta’s fingers wander up to tug through Akito’s hair instead, accepting the attention as his due. “No thanks, when you’ve got frown lines and gray hairs, I’ll still look young and cute~.”

“They’re your lines too, you know,” Junta points out without any heat, but then he tosses aside his script, because it isn’t like he’ll be getting any more work done anyway. He waits until Akito looks up at him at the sound of the script hitting the floor before he adds casually, “Unless there’s a different kind of scene you want to rehearse?”

Junta darts his tongue out to lick his bottom lip in case there’s any confusion, and Akito is up and throwing a leg over Junta before you can say “Beautiful American Dream.”

“This is unexpected,” Akito says as he settles in Junta’s lap, arms around Junta’s neck, and he tilts his head back when Junta noses at his throat. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Contrary to popular belief, you aren’t the only one who can cause trouble in this unit,” Junta retorts, untucking Akito’s uniform shirt so that he can get his hands underneath it. And then he adds a few suggestions in Chinese about exactly what kind of trouble he plans on causing.

It would surprise most of the people who know them that Akito understands enough of it to give a breathy little moan. Akito’s well-known for his lack of studiousness, but Junta’s found that Akito’s more than studious enough if he’s in the right setting and really wants to learn.

Certainly he’s always found Akito to be an enthusiastic pupil.

“Who taught you to say that in Chinese?” Akito growls as he rolls his hips against Junta’s.

“Nobody,” Junta answers with a coy smile that he knows Akito will feel pressed against his skin.

“Seriously, tell me,” Akito presses, the possession in his voice making Junta shiver, “so I can beat the crap out of them.”

“Seriously, nobody,” Junta repeats. He can’t leave marks on Akito right before filming, but he can graze teeth over Akito’s throat, making Akito give a soft, pleading noise. “That’s what the internet is for.”

Akito seizes Junta’s mouth just then, kisses him roughly, and Junta leans into the kiss to give as good as he gets. Akito’s got Junta’s shirt unbuttoned by the time they come up for air, and the occasional teasing roll of their hips has given way to a steady grind. Junta’s hands have slid from Akito’s back down into his pants, and now they’re tight against the firm curves of Akito’s ass to push him into exactly the spot where Junta wants him.

“Anybody could walk in, you know,” Akito comments, laughing breathlessly when Junta groans and pushes up against him harder even as he blushes. Junta nudges Akito’s face to the side, slides their cheeks together, and then blows a little in Akito’s ear, making him squirm and whine.

“Maybe you should get on with it then,” Junta says, and he emphasizes the ‘you’ part because there’s no way he’s taking his hands away from how hard and sweet Akito’s ass feels under his fingers.

As if that’s what he’s been waiting for all along, Akito has their pants unzipped and their cocks in his hand in roughly ten seconds, and it only takes that long because his zipper catches. He pulls on both their cocks together, pushing into it, and it isn’t neat or practiced, but when Junta flexes into it, his cock slides along Akito’s and they both moan.

“Not so loud!” Junta hisses, but that’s kind of like asking thunder not to crash, so he covers Akito’s mouth with his own again and muffles both their cries while Akito squeezes and tugs.

“Gonna…” Akito warns, and Junta thinks fleetingly of their costumes, slouches down a bit further because his chest is bare to make sure everything spills where it doesn’t matter. The change in angle is all it takes, and Akito comes with his back taut and trembling, forehead pressed against Junta’s and fingers tight in his hair.

“Don’t stop,” Junta begs when Akito’s grip loosens, and he can feel Akito struggling to get enough of a hold on himself to comply. He knows Akito is generally useless immediately after orgasm, but he’s close, so close, and he wants to come just like this, pressed tight up against Akito, mouths near enough that he can feel Akito’s damp breath on his lips.

He closes his eyes and reaches for it, and Akito gets his grip back, and Junta tumbles over the edge too, going slack against the back of the couch and letting Akito stroke him through it.

“No moving,” Akito grumbles when Junta stirs, but Junta only shifts him to the side so that he can cling as tightly as he wants without ruining Junta’s efforts to keep their costumes clean. Akito has his hand splayed over Junta’s slowing heartbeat, which would be sweet and adorable if it weren’t covered in both of their come.

Maybe it’s still a little adorable, Junta admits to himself, and then he cranes his neck to lick the top of one of Akito’s sticky fingers, and laughs when Akito’s eyes fly open and he stares at Junta with a dangling jaw.

He coaxes Akito into motion with lingering touches and flattery, gets them cleaned up and tucked back in enough that they aren’t totally obvious, and then he gives in and lets Akito tug him back onto the couch, stretched out comfortably along Junta’s side.

Some time later, when Takaki sticks his head in to inquire suspiciously why it’s so quiet, he’s shocked to find Akito dutifully learning lines along with Junta, both of them tucked tightly together with the script resting across their knees.

Junta doesn’t bother to hide his laughter when Akito sticks his nose in the air and informs Takaki that they are busy working and can’t play today.

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