Driven (Pin, AU, NC-17) [3/3]

[maayacolabackup]

***

Jin’s phone rings while he’s shaving at 2 PM on a Thursday.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Yamapi says without waiting for acknowledgement.

“Okay, I’ll come pick you up,” Jin says, but Yamapi makes a discontented sound into the phone.

“No, where do you live? I’m picking you up.”

Jin blinks, twice, and then tells Yamapi his address.

Later, when he’s climbing into the passenger seat, Jin’s brain catches up with it all. “Wait, where are we going? Why are you driving?”

Yamapi chuckles. “You always drive.”

“I’m a driver. It’s my job to drive.”

“This isn’t work,” Yamapi replies, and Jin sinks back into the soft seat. The engine of Yamapi’s Lexus purrs in front of them, but the ride is smooth.

“This is such a nice car,” Jin says, in lieu of asking more questions. Yamapi bursts into loud laughter, then shakes his head.

“You’ve got a one-track mind,” Yamapi says to him, and Jin’s looking at his jawline, and how the light is catching it and creating this haunting shadow that makes Yamapi look impossibly gorgeous, and Jin figures he’s got at least a two-track mind.

Jin takes out his phone, and Yamapi looks at it curiously. “I need to call my brother,” Jin says, “And tell him I’m not coming over today.”

Yuu answers after two rings. “Hey Jin, when you headed over?”

“I’m not,” Jin replies. “Something...came up.”

“Is everything okay?” Yuu asks, suddenly worried. “Usually I can’t keep you away from my daughter with a crowbar.”

Jin sighs. “Everything’s fine. I’m just...I’m doing something else today.”

Yuu chuckles. “Like what?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” Jin says, and Yamapi is laughing again. “Shut up, you,” he mutters at Yamapi, before he continues. “It’s all sort of an unexpected trip.”

“Who’s with you?” Yuu asks, and Jin can hear the confusion in his voice.

Jin looks over at Yamapi, who has both hands responsibly on the wheel and is watching the road with alert eyes. “A friend,” he says, and Yuu makes a thoughtful noise. “I gotta go. See you soon,” Jin adds, and then flips his phone closed.

Yamapi clears his throat. “So, that was your brother?”

Jin nods, and then vocally answers when he remembers that Yamapi is looking at the road in front of him. “Yeah, one of them. Actually it’s more like he’s a close family friend I grew up with. I have a younger brother, Reio, who’s in med school down in Kyoto.” Jin licks his lips, because they’re dry.

“I have a little sister,” Yamapi offers. “Her name is Rina.” Jin starts at the name.

“Yuu, the guy I was just talking to, has a daughter named Lina. She’s the one who was playing with my hair when you called that time.”

“Oh, did I interrupt a play date?”

“It’s okay,” Jin says. “Why are we doing this, though?”

Yamapi stops at the traffic light, and his hands fall from the wheel to rest on his thighs. “I have the day off,” he answers, and Jin nods. “And I had an idea. Where we’re headed isn’t much further.”

Jin relaxes into the seat. “This is so weird.”

“What is?” Yamapi says, as traffic begins moving again.

“Being in the passenger seat of a car.”

Yamapi laughs, and spares a glance out of the corner of his eyes to look at Jin. “It’s not for long,” he says mysteriously, and Jin closes his eyes, just feeling the car buzzing around him as it practically glides over the pavement.

“This is a really nice car,” he repeats, and Yamapi smiles to himself and turns up the music.

When Yamapi finally turns off the road and into a large empty lot, where there’s nothing more than a lot of open space and a warehouse, Jin looks at him in askance.

“What are we doing here?” He gets out of the car, and holds his hand above his eyes like a visor, gazing out into the distance. “There’s nowhere to hide my body, you know, except in that warehouse, and that would be the first place the cops would look.”

Yamapi doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes and tosses him some keys.

“Why are you giving me these keys?” Jin says dumbly, as they lay heavy in his hand. He balls them up into his fist, and then stares blankly at the man in front of him.  Yamapi turns his head, motioning over to the small warehouse.

“Go look in there.”

“Okay,” Jin says, but he still doesn’t get it until he opens the rickety door. It’s a stock car. Maybe two or three years old, but freshly washed and probably just had the oil changed, judging by the smell in the warehouse. “It’s a stock car,” he says confusedly.

“So drive it. Drive it as fast as you can.” Yamapi looks at him solemnly. “Be in control of a fast car again, Jin. It’s just an old stock car, but…”

Jin swallows, and his throat feels closed. “Yeah?”

Yamapi closes his eyes. “Yeah. I think you should drive it.”

“What if I crash it?”

“You’re a race car driver, Jin. You’ve driven faster cars than this with no problems.”

Jin remembers how it feels to flip upside down inside of one of these stock cars, choking on the smoke.

“I don’t know if I can,” Jin admits.

“You want to, though,” Yamapi says, eyelashes stark against his skin as he closes his eyes against the sunlight.

“Why do you always have sunglasses at night but never during sunny days?” Jin says, and Yamapi frowns.

“I don’t have to hide my face from you,” he replies, and then puts his hand on the back of Jin’s neck. “And don’t dodge me, I’m being serious. Drive the car.”

“I want to but I’m scared,” Jin admits, finally. “Every time I think about getting into one of these cars I remember how it feels to not be able to get out.”

“All you need to do is get out this time.” Yamapi opens the passenger side, and pulls out a helmet. He tosses it to Jin, as casually as he had the keys, and Jin grunts as it slams into his stomach. It feels cold in his hands, but achingly familiar. He turns it in his grip so that the clear eye-shield is facing him. Jin can see his reflection in it. “Put it on. I’ll not hear any ‘no’s,” Yamapi says.

“How did you get this stuff?” Jin chokes out.

“I’m famous,” Yamapi says. “Like, really famous.”

Jin wants to punch him in the face, but instead he puts on the helmet.

Before he knows what’s happening, he’s sitting in the driver’s seat. His heart is beating faster than this car can even dream of going, and Jin turns the ignition. The spark of the ignition is the end of Jin’s inhibitions.

He expects it to be different, driving like this, with no passengers, no destinations, only a pulsing beat in his veins and a climbing reading on the speedometer, but it’s not. It’s just as he remembers it. It’s still just like flying, it’s still the most free he will ever feel. The car is sensitive to the slightest turn of the wheel, and Jin missed this, missed everything about it. The crippling fear that kept him from getting into a car again seems to be gone, and Jin doesn’t know what changed, only that maybe it took someone really pushing to make him realize that there was no reason to be holding back.

Maybe it took Yamapi not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

Jin pulls the car to a screeching, drifting halt, then jumps out of the driver seat. He lopes over to Yamapi, who is standing at watching him, leaning his back against the warehouse. The thrill of speed is still churning inside of him, racing through his body and sinking down through skin and tissue and muscle and then seeping through his bones.

He tackles Yamapi to the ground, straddling him and lacing their fingers together. Yamapi looks shocked beneath him, wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and Jin thinks he’s beautiful, so beautiful, like an unfolding blossom in the spring. Jin can’t stop the thrumming of his body, and he squeezes Yamapi’s hand even as he leans forward and rests his head in the crook of Yamapi’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice quavering with that indescribable feeling he always has after a race. “Thank you.”

Yamapi’s hands squeeze Jin’s back, his thumbs running soothing circles over Jin’s thumbs, and it feels like electricity. “You’re welcome,” he whispers back, and Jin just stays there, Yamapi strong and warm and necessary underneath him, until his body stops shivering.

Eventually, Yamapi pulls him up and drives him home, but that night, Jin can’t sleep, and all he can think about are the dangerous curves of the track, and an overwhelming need to cross the finish line first. He also thinks about Yamapi, but that’s not new anymore so he barely even notices amidst the smell of burning rubber.

***

Tanaka Koki doesn’t believe him the first three times Jin says his name into the phone. “Wait, who?” he repeats, and Jin sighs and runs his hand through his hair, his other hand holding the cell phone in a tight grip.

“It’s me, Koki. It’s Jin. I want to race.”

“Motherfucker,” Koki whispers, before he’s yelling out to someone else. “Maru! Maru, it’s mother fucking Akanishi Jin on the phone, telling me he wants to start racing again!”

“What?” Jin hears Nakamaru yell, and he smiles, because he knows the look that’s on Nakamaru’s face right now, as he tries to figure out if he should be excited or chastise Koki for his language.

“I mean, if you want me,” Jin adds, because he did just disappear for more than a year and refuse to take any phone calls related to racing.

“If I…? Akanishi, get your ass down to my track, and we’ll see if you still got it.”

***

Jin licks his lips and hands Josh and Yuu tickets while they sit at a coffee shop near Yuu’s apartment.

“What’s this?” Josh says, drinking some weird looking green tea milkshake while he twirls a piece of hair around his finger. His eyes are obscured by turquoise heart-shaped sunglasses, but Jin knows exactly what lazy expression his eyes are making.

Yuu stares at the two tickets in his hand, one for Lina and one for himself, with a puzzled frown. “These are race tickets.”

“Yeah, the Japan All GT Championship,” Jin replies, and Josh’s face takes on a more interested look.

“You’re going to a race, bro?”

Jin clears his throat. “...I’m racing in a race,” he says, and Yuu slowly puts down his coffee.

“What?”

“I’m racing,” he repeats, and then Josh whoops and slaps Jin so hard on the back he spits his coffee all over the table and Yuu is just smiling and smiling and Jin feels like he’s already won.

***

“I’m not going to drive taxis anymore,” Jin tells Yamapi the next time he picks him up from work at 5 AM. “This is my last drive.”

Yamapi takes a deep breath. “What are you gonna do?”

Jin looks at him in the mirror. Yamapi is wearing those sunglasses again, and Jin can’t meet his eyes, but it’s okay. “I’m not a taxi driver, you know. I was just doing this for a while.”

Yamapi grins. “What did you do before? I mean, what do you do?”

Jin taps his fingers steadily on the wheel to the beat of a NewS song on the radio. “I’m a race car driver.”

“Wow, that’s a cool job,” Yamapi says. “I’m more of a freelancer. I do this and that.”

They both laugh, and then Jin sings Yamapi’s part in the song, and Yamapi sings Tegoshi’s part, and Jin doesn’t want the ride to end.

Sometimes he feels like it wasn’t a coincidence that Yamapi got into his car that night, like maybe it was destiny or something weird like that, like Jin had gotten off track in life and Yamapi was who he needed to meet to get back behind the wheel of his own life.

He feels like that, but he can’t say it for some reason. He wants to be brave, but maybe he’s used it all up.

“If you get the chance,” Jin says, “you should watch my race on TV.” Yamapi looks at him and smiles faintly.

“I’ll do my best,” he says. “It’s a shame you’re going out of business. I really valued your hard work.”

Jin closes his eyes for a second, feeling like this is his last chance to say something, but…

“If you ever need a ride,” Jin says. “You can always call.”

This time, when Jin drives away, it feels like running away.

***

Jin Akanishi’s first race in 17 months results in a new track record, and the promise of many more feats to come.

Jin swears he can hear little Lina screaming from the stands, even with his helmet on and the roar of fifteen engines around him as he does a victory lap in his Nissan PXC.

***

Jin is shaking when he walks into the locker room. Shaking from his head to his toes, his whole body quivering with some mix of accomplishment and adrenaline and fear and reality catching up to him all at once. His suit is stuck to every inch of his body, plastered with sweat, and his hair is matted and damp from his helmet. He’s the last one back here-- the others have probably gone home ages ago, while Jin answers question after question about his long hiatus from racing, about his plans for future races, about his endorsement deals and about whether or not he has a girlfriend.

“Congratulations,” a familiar voice echoes through through the empty room, and Yamapi is sitting on one of the wooden benches in front of the lockers. He’s wearing a simple v-necked black t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. His hair unstyled, hanging loose and hairspray free around his face in soft, curling tendrils. Jin feels his throat go dry, and it’s not really from the blazing heat of the car, or from the countless interviews. Yamapi is smiling at him, and Jin’s eyes wander over every inch of his face, taking in the circles under his eyes, and his crooked teeth, and the small stripe of shimmery make-up he’d missed when he was washing his face from a photo-shoot or wherever he’d just come from.

Yamapi’s staring at him too, eyes examining Jin’s racing suit, and lingering on Jin’s neck, where Jin can feel a bead of sweat slowly crawling its way down his skin. Then Yamapi smiles. “You did it,” he says, and Jin can feel his blood dancing through his veins now, and he’s got that burning feeling like the one he gets when he wants to drive a car, wants to race. But he’s already raced today, and what he wants is...

“How’d you get in here?”

“I’m famous,” Yamapi answers, raising an eyebrow. “Does it matter? You did it.”

“I did,” Jin says. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he says, and there’s so much more he could say, and it’s trapped inside of him, and he remembers the look in Yamapi’s eyes when he climbed out of Yamapi’s car, and...

“I guess we both need to be brave,” Yamapi says, and he gets up from the bench and walks toward Jin. He stops and stands in front of him, hands in his pockets, shoulders bunched up as he looks to the side. Then he meets Jin’s eyes, and licks his lips. “Let me know if I’m reading this all wrong,” he whispers, and then his hands aren’t in his pockets anymore. One of them is wrapped around Jin’s wrist, and tugging him closer, and the other is circling around his back, pressing him into Yamapi’s chest. All Jin can see are Yamapi’s black eyes, and they’re looking into Jin’s, slightly wide and nervous. Jin can’t see the end of this track. All he can hear is the cry for all engines go, and he closes the distance between them, pressing his lips roughly against Yamapi’s. Their noses crash into each other, and Yamapi lets out this tiny laugh that’s a little wild and a little relieved, and then he tilts his head and captures Jin’s lips again, and this time it’s perfect.

Jin wants to be closer. He wants to be so close he’s crawling inside of Yamapi’s skin. He settles for slipping his hands up Yamapi’s t-shirt, and his tongue into Yamapi’s mouth, and the taste is as sweet as victory. His hands wander across the expanse of toned muscles and smooth skin, exploring every dip and swell of Yamapi’s upper body while Yamapi moans breathlessly into his open mouth. His hands brush across Yamapi’s nipples, and the man emits a hiss, and his hands slide across Jin’s shoulders, and scramble for the zipper to Jin’s racing suit. Jin feels the air hit his bare skin before he registers the sound of the zipper coming undone under Yamapi’s desperate fingers. His sweat-soaked skin pebbles in the chill, but then Yamapi is kissing his way slowly down his neck, stopping and sucking at various places as he makes his way down to Jin’s collarbone.

“May I?” he asks, and Jin shivers at the thrill of Yamapi’s hot puffs of breath on his skin.

“Yeah,” Jin says, and then Yamapi pulls on the zipper, exposing Jin’s chest and shoulders to his eyes. Jin closes his eyes, hands braced on Yamapi’s trim waist, as Yamapi sees his entire burn for the first time.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yamapi says, and he’s looking straight at Jin when Jin opens his eyes. And then. Yamapi licks Jin’s collarbone, right where the burn begins, and it tingles, and it’s the strangest feeling Jin’s ever experienced, like being tickled, but it’s also arousing. Yamapi nibbles his way across the marred skin of Jin’s chest, kissing down his arm until he has covered the entire mark with his smooth lips and questing tongue. Yamapi’s mouth opens on Jin’s skin, leaving open mouthed kisses as he leans over, and Jin feels like he’s going to burst if he doesn’t...

He pushes Yamapi back, into the cold metal lockers, hands dragging his shirt up. Yamapi raises his arms obligingly, and Jin throws the shirt to the floor before he traps Yamapi between the locker and his arms, his suit now hanging loosely at his waist as the bare skin of their chests rub against each other. Yamapi winces at the feeling of chill steel, but then he is moaning as Jin sucks one of his nipples into his mouth. Jin lathes his tongue across the pebbled nub, and Yamapi is pushing his hips forward into the air. “Jin,” he says, and his voice is low, lower than Jin has ever heard it. Since their first meeting, Jin has loved the smooth timbre of the other man’s voice, and now it sounds raw, like it’s clawing it’s way out of Yamapi’s throat to Jin’s ears.

Jin’s hands drop from either side of Yamapi to fumble with the clasp to Yamapi’s jeans, and Yamapi takes advantage of his freedom to shove Jin’s suit down further, freeing Jin’s cock. Jin steps out of the suit as it slides down to pool at his feet, and he uses his left foot to push it aside. Yamapi hooks his fingers in the loops of his jeans and slowly starts to pull them down too, but Jin slaps his hands aside, sticking his fingers in the sides of Yamapi’s breifs and tugging the underwear and the jeans down in one fell swoop. Yamapi chuckles.

“It’s not a race, Jin,” Yamapi says, but then Jin leans into him, and he’s too busy inhaling sharply at the feeling of their cocks pressed together to talk.

Jin bites at his jawline, and then swipes his tongue across the bite soothingly in apology. “Everything is a race,” Jin replies, and then thrusts forward, and the friction is magnificent. Yamapi throws his head back, slamming it into the lockers, and Jin laughs even has he pants. “Right now I’m racing to see how fast I can touch all of you.”

Yamapi moans, and it’s loud, and it echoes through the entire locker room, just like his earlier congratulations. “Fuck, Jin,” Yamapi says. “Fuck.”

Jin’s body is alight, and he feels like he could break any track record that stands in front of him, beat any other racer in the world, as long as this feeling is waiting for him at the finish line. This all consuming passion reminds him of the first time he climbed into a T-180 when he was nineteen years old, full of confidence and the desire to feel as much as humanly possible.

Yamapi is the kind of guy who likes to drive his own car, though, and soon enough he’s pushing Jin off of him, using his superior arm strength to turn them around so that Jin is pressed up against the lockers. A lock is digging uncomfortably into Jin’s back, but all he can focus on is the full length of Yamapi along the full length of him, their hard cocks rubbing against each other as Yamapi’s strong arms hold Jin by his hipbones in a submissive position. “Lube,” he whispers into Jin’s ear, and Jin points vaguely at his back on the bench, where he knows there’s Vaseline, which is probably all wrong but Jin doesn’t care.

And then Yamapi is circling the ring of muscle, not tentative but not forcefully either. “Have you ever done this before?” Yamapi asks, and Jin shakes his head in the negative. “Can you trust me?”

Jin looks at Yamapi, and their eyes catch as their lips brush lightly against each other. Jin can feel every word Yamapi says across his lips. “Yes,” Jin breathes, and then Yamapi is pushing a finger in. It hurts, and Jin winces, but Yamapi’s other hand is suddenly wrapped around Jin’s cock. Jin forgets about the finger as Yamapi slowly teases the head with his index finger, and by the time Jin realizes a second finger has joined the first, Yamapi’s made significant headway into stretching him.

Then Yamapi’s fingers brush across something inside of Jin that sends Jin into the same heady rush he feels when he puts his foot on the gas. “Right there,” he whimpers, and he feels Yamapi grin against his lips, and then Jin is sliding his tongue back into Yamapi’s sweet irresistible mouth, and the grin fades in favor of a long, heavy moan.

Yamapi presses against him there, again and again, until Jin’s legs feel like jelly, and Yamapi cups Jin’s ass in his hands as Jin starts to slide down, and Jin wraps his legs around Yamapi’s waist. Using the locker as support, Yamapi holds Jin up with the weight of his body, using his left hand to tilt Jin’s hips and his right hand to guide his weeping erection into Jin’s tight body.

The sound Yamapi makes as he comes to a stop fully sheathed inside of Jin is the best sound Jin’s ever heard. It’s hot and wet and smoky and clean all at once, and Yamapi makes it again and again as he starts pounding relentlessly into Jin, whose back keeps hitting the lockers with each thrust, making them rattle and clank behind him. Yamapi is hitting that spot over and over and over again, and it hurts but it feels so good, and he can feel himself tightening around Yamapi as his own orgasm gets closer and closer. Yamapi has started making these tiny moans in Jin’s ear, and they make Jin burn even hotter and then Jin is coming, all over his stomach as Yamapi cries out his name.

They sink to the floor, then, and Yamapi slips out of him. Jin’s thighs are screaming at him, so he pulls them up, leaning his back against the wooden bench as Yamapi gets on his knees and starts massaging Jin’s thighs tenderly.

“Congratulations on your win,” Yamapi quips, as he pulls Jin up later, dragging him toward to the shower.

Jin laughs, and it’s a free sound, kind of like how the wind sounds weaving it’s way through the loose strands of his hair as he drives down the freeway.

“You should congratulate me on my win, too,” Yamapi says then, and Jin looks at him quizzically. He can’t think of any award shows, or special occasions that Yamapi has been involved in or attended lately.

“What did you win?” Jin asks, and Yamapi smiles at him. His hair is completely disheveled, and his neck is covered in marks, and his skin is flush with the afterglow of sex. He looks amazing, and Jin kinda wants to do him in the shower.

“You,” Yamapi says, looking straight at Jin. “I won you.”

It’s the second time Jin falls in love.

***

“I signed on to a new movie today,” Yamapi says, and Jin raises an eyebrow. Yamapi is sitting on Jin’s workbench, while Jin messes around with the engine in his Honda Civic.

“What’s it about?” Jin asks, sliding out from under the car to look at his lover.

“It’s about drag racing,” Yamapi says. “I was hoping you would, you know, teach me a few tricks.” There’s something mildly suggestive in Yamapi’s tone.

Jin imagines bending Yamapi over the hood of his racing car and fucking him to the roar of its monster engine.  He imagines Yamapi spread decadently in Jin’s driver seat, sweat building between himself and the unforgiving leather as Yamapi strokes his own cock. He imagines driving at full speed and coasting around a sharp turn with Yamapi’s lips wrapped around his cock.

“I think I could manage,” Jin says huskily, and Yamapi grins, and Jin focuses on the now, because if he doesn’t pay attention Yamapi will take the lead.

Being with Yamapi is just like driving a fast car, but Jin thinks he can handle the speed. After all, Jin loves the feeling of the wind whipping against his face as he accelerates. And today, Yamapi’s boxers are looking an awful lot like a checkered flag.



did you catch all seven speed racer references hidden in the fic?