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maayacolabackupTitle: Kamelicious (Definition: Make the boys go crazy)
Pairing: Kame/ Nakamaru
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Kame be up in the gym, just working on his fitness.
Notes: Um...I'm supposed to be packing for a trip. But oh, let's just dedicate this to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elizajet , who got cockblocked on twitter for trying to spam it up Nakame style.
The thing is, Kame knows he's sexy. It's not vanity, ladies, it's self-awareness. Kame used to be all gangly limbs and uncoordinated arm movements, and now he's all devastating hip-swivels and lip-licking. The ugly duckling has turned into a swan, although Kame didn't turn into a swan, he turned into a fucking lion, and his sexiness will eat your sexiness for dinner.
Which is why it's so frustrating, the way Nakamaru doesn't seem to appreciate just how fucking sexy he is.
Because Kame notices how sexy Nakamaru is every single day; he has since he was sixteen and he realized that boys who like girls don't wear shiny leopard print pants.(And also, strangely, that boys who like girls probably also don't want to fuck argyle-clad uptight chemistry nerds with awkward noses and don't find women attractive in the slightest.)
Still, every day Kame looks in the mirror, evaluates his surprisingly broad shoulders, his perfectly arched eyebrows, and his, dare he say it, delectable ass, and he thinks the whole situation is woefully unfair.
Because Kame is really hot, and he can have anyone he wants, but he can't have Nakamaru Yuichi, and that makes him want to punch Jin in the nut sac. (He wants to do that anyway, most days, but anger is a satisfactory excuse.)
Kame keeps making subtle advances, like appearing naked in the shower with Nakamaru, or offering him blow jobs, but Nakamaru just laughs and washes Kame's back, stopping tastefully above his tailbone, and tells Kame to stop kidding around, people might get the wrong idea.
The situation comes to a head one day, literally.
Kame is so stressed about it all that he gets a zit, right smack in the middle of his forehead. He examines it with abject horror, while Koki comforts him with soothing rubs across his shoulders, whispering condolences into his ear as if he is calming a squalling baby.
"There, there, Kame," Koki says, pitching his voice even and low. "Don't worry, you'll still be really sexy in the photos. I'm sure they'll photoshop it right out, okay?" He hands Kame a small plate of take-out.
Kame chokes back a sob and stuffs mozzarella stick after mozzarella stick into his mouth, choking on the greasy breading as it slides down his throat and straight down to his future love handles. "Easy for you to say," Kame gasps out between tears. "You don't have a THIRD EYE."
"You're right, Kame..."
"You'll never know my pain," Kame hisses, and Koki sighs.
"But Kame," he starts, but Kame's wracking sobs cut him off.
"But?! No one is going to notice my butt if I have a miniature replica of Mount Doom on my face!!!" Kame wails, and Koki...
Koki gives up, as he should, Kame thinks, because in a situation like this, everyone should just Give Up, because life is clearly not worth living when you can only present a mediocre face to the world.
Koki leaves him alone in the dressing room, and Kame is left alone to wallow in his misery, clinging to the fragile hope that if he closes his eyes, the disgusting disfiguration will disappear.
"Woah, Kazuya, what a zit!" calls a cheerful voice behind him, and Kame spins around to see Nakamaru standing there, relaxed with his hands in his pockets. He looks stupider than usual today, because his jeans are too loose (if you can fit a coin between denim and skin, go down a size!) and his shirt is this terrible combination of purple and orange and green checks.
"I hate you," Kame says to him, and narrows his eyes. None of this would have happened if his reluctant band mate would just put out, instead of ignoring the fact that Kame has boys lining up the block just to watch what he's got. "This is all your fault."
Nakamaru's eyes widen, and he looks cute, and it makes Kame even angrier. "What did I do?"
"Absolutely nothing," Kame snarls, before he shoves Nakamaru into the wall, bringing his face close to the other man, who's shocked exhale blows across Kazuya's face. "And that, Yuichi, is the problem."
Kame slams his lips against Nakamaru's, feeling more than hearing the other man's surprised gasp, and kisses him deeply. Nakamaru's mouth is parted in surprise, and Kame takes advantage, licking at the inside of the other man's mouth until he melts in Kame's grip. His hands, which have been holding on to Kame's forearms in confusion and a tinge of fear, loosen and slide up to Kame's shoulders, and loop around his neck.
Kame grins against the other man's mouth as he savors his victory, which tastes a little bit like orange flavored tic tacs and a little like biscotti. "Oh," Nakamaru says when Kame pulls back to look at his prize.
Nakamaru is flushed, his hair askew and his shirt horrifically wrinkled, which makes it even uglier, and his lips swollen and looking like they need to be kissed again, although that could just be Kame's bias showing. "Any questions?" Kame says, as he draws back in like a predator, his hands rapidly undoing the buttons of Nakamaru's jeans.
"Well why didn't you just say so?" Nakamaru groans, as Kame's hand slips down his pants to grasp his burgeoning erection.
Kame looks at him incredulously. "Are you kidding me?" Kame asks, and then he squeezes gently on Nakamaru's hardening shaft. "I am Kamenashi Kazuya. I do not ask, I deign to bestow."
Nakamaru chuckles, which turns into a moan as Kame's index finger circles the tip. Then Kame drops to his knees, pulling Nakamaru's jeans down with him, and taking the boxers, argyle, of course they're argyle, with him. Kame doesn't hesitate before wrapping his lips around Nakamaru's cock, and it fits perfectly in his mouth, just like Kame knew it would.
"You're so hot like that," Nakamaru wheezes as Kame looks up at him through his bangs, bobbing up and down off of Nakamaru's penis, one hand on Nakamaru's hip and the other toying gently with his balls.
"Obviously," Kame says, before he stands up and kisses Nakamaru again, just because he can.
Then Kazuya has the lube in one hand and he's squirting some onto his fingers and finding Nakamaru's entrance. "Where the heck did you find lube?" Nakamaru gasps out. "Like seriously," he adds, tugging on Kame's pants, trying to pull them down. "There is no possible way you could have anything in the pockets of these jeans."
Kame raises his eyebrow superiorly. "I'm the Eternal Jeanist," Kame responds. "I can do magic with jeans." He's wriggling as he speaks, and somehow the jeans fall smoothly to the floor in front of Nakamaru's amazed eyes, even as Kame continues to calmly slide two fingers in and out of Nakamaru, nudging his prostate and drawing needy grunts out of his captive.
"Like a subspace pocket, or something," Nakamaru manages. "Like Sailor Moon."
"I am way more sexy than Sailor Moon," Kame says with a groan, as he pushes inside of the warm heat.
"She's kind of a prude anyway," Nakamaru replies, eyes clenched tightly closed as he clutches the fabric of Kame's vest, and lifts his legs to wrap them around Kame's waist. "Not my type."
"Only because you'd never get anywhere," Kame squeezes out between gasps, his heart thudding in his chest as he gets closer to release. Nakamaru seems close too, his tight hole constricting around Kame like a vice.
Nakamaru comes first, spilling onto his own stomach as Kame follows close behind, spilling inside of him. "You don't have any diseases, right?"
"I like to be unattainably hot," Kame responds, slipping out of Nakamaru and pressing his half-clothed body up against him, holding them both up. "You can look but you can't touch."
"I touched..." Nakamaru says with a pleased little smile. "I must pass inspection."
"Your jeans are really hideous," is Kame's answer, but he says it with a smile.
Later, as Kame grimaces for the camera as the photographer takes shot after shot of him doing suggestive things with household appliances, Koki leans over and whispers encouragingly into Kame's ear. "I'm really proud of the way you're dealing with the whole, you know."
"What?" Kame says, having no idea what Koki is referring to.
"The zit," Koki stage whispers, and Kame's eyes widen in horror.
"Oh god, I forgot!" Kame screeches, and he pulls his hands out of a pair of oven mitts to hide his face. "I'm so ashamed," he sobs into his hands.
Ueda groans. "I'm sitting here giving fellatio to a duster and you're ashamed," he snarks. "God, I hate you."
"I don't hate you, Nakamaru says softly, pitched so only Kame can hear, and Kame forgets all about his zit. "Cause you're T, to the a, to the s, t, e, y."
Pairing: Kame/ Nakamaru
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Kame be up in the gym, just working on his fitness.
Notes: Um...I'm supposed to be packing for a trip. But oh, let's just dedicate this to
elizajet , who got cockblocked on twitter for trying to spam it up Nakame style.The thing is, Kame knows he's sexy. It's not vanity, ladies, it's self-awareness. Kame used to be all gangly limbs and uncoordinated arm movements, and now he's all devastating hip-swivels and lip-licking. The ugly duckling has turned into a swan, although Kame didn't turn into a swan, he turned into a fucking lion, and his sexiness will eat your sexiness for dinner.
Which is why it's so frustrating, the way Nakamaru doesn't seem to appreciate just how fucking sexy he is.
Because Kame notices how sexy Nakamaru is every single day; he has since he was sixteen and he realized that boys who like girls don't wear shiny leopard print pants.(And also, strangely, that boys who like girls probably also don't want to fuck argyle-clad uptight chemistry nerds with awkward noses and don't find women attractive in the slightest.)
Still, every day Kame looks in the mirror, evaluates his surprisingly broad shoulders, his perfectly arched eyebrows, and his, dare he say it, delectable ass, and he thinks the whole situation is woefully unfair.
Because Kame is really hot, and he can have anyone he wants, but he can't have Nakamaru Yuichi, and that makes him want to punch Jin in the nut sac. (He wants to do that anyway, most days, but anger is a satisfactory excuse.)
Kame keeps making subtle advances, like appearing naked in the shower with Nakamaru, or offering him blow jobs, but Nakamaru just laughs and washes Kame's back, stopping tastefully above his tailbone, and tells Kame to stop kidding around, people might get the wrong idea.
The situation comes to a head one day, literally.
Kame is so stressed about it all that he gets a zit, right smack in the middle of his forehead. He examines it with abject horror, while Koki comforts him with soothing rubs across his shoulders, whispering condolences into his ear as if he is calming a squalling baby.
"There, there, Kame," Koki says, pitching his voice even and low. "Don't worry, you'll still be really sexy in the photos. I'm sure they'll photoshop it right out, okay?" He hands Kame a small plate of take-out.
Kame chokes back a sob and stuffs mozzarella stick after mozzarella stick into his mouth, choking on the greasy breading as it slides down his throat and straight down to his future love handles. "Easy for you to say," Kame gasps out between tears. "You don't have a THIRD EYE."
"You're right, Kame..."
"You'll never know my pain," Kame hisses, and Koki sighs.
"But Kame," he starts, but Kame's wracking sobs cut him off.
"But?! No one is going to notice my butt if I have a miniature replica of Mount Doom on my face!!!" Kame wails, and Koki...
Koki gives up, as he should, Kame thinks, because in a situation like this, everyone should just Give Up, because life is clearly not worth living when you can only present a mediocre face to the world.
Koki leaves him alone in the dressing room, and Kame is left alone to wallow in his misery, clinging to the fragile hope that if he closes his eyes, the disgusting disfiguration will disappear.
"Woah, Kazuya, what a zit!" calls a cheerful voice behind him, and Kame spins around to see Nakamaru standing there, relaxed with his hands in his pockets. He looks stupider than usual today, because his jeans are too loose (if you can fit a coin between denim and skin, go down a size!) and his shirt is this terrible combination of purple and orange and green checks.
"I hate you," Kame says to him, and narrows his eyes. None of this would have happened if his reluctant band mate would just put out, instead of ignoring the fact that Kame has boys lining up the block just to watch what he's got. "This is all your fault."
Nakamaru's eyes widen, and he looks cute, and it makes Kame even angrier. "What did I do?"
"Absolutely nothing," Kame snarls, before he shoves Nakamaru into the wall, bringing his face close to the other man, who's shocked exhale blows across Kazuya's face. "And that, Yuichi, is the problem."
Kame slams his lips against Nakamaru's, feeling more than hearing the other man's surprised gasp, and kisses him deeply. Nakamaru's mouth is parted in surprise, and Kame takes advantage, licking at the inside of the other man's mouth until he melts in Kame's grip. His hands, which have been holding on to Kame's forearms in confusion and a tinge of fear, loosen and slide up to Kame's shoulders, and loop around his neck.
Kame grins against the other man's mouth as he savors his victory, which tastes a little bit like orange flavored tic tacs and a little like biscotti. "Oh," Nakamaru says when Kame pulls back to look at his prize.
Nakamaru is flushed, his hair askew and his shirt horrifically wrinkled, which makes it even uglier, and his lips swollen and looking like they need to be kissed again, although that could just be Kame's bias showing. "Any questions?" Kame says, as he draws back in like a predator, his hands rapidly undoing the buttons of Nakamaru's jeans.
"Well why didn't you just say so?" Nakamaru groans, as Kame's hand slips down his pants to grasp his burgeoning erection.
Kame looks at him incredulously. "Are you kidding me?" Kame asks, and then he squeezes gently on Nakamaru's hardening shaft. "I am Kamenashi Kazuya. I do not ask, I deign to bestow."
Nakamaru chuckles, which turns into a moan as Kame's index finger circles the tip. Then Kame drops to his knees, pulling Nakamaru's jeans down with him, and taking the boxers, argyle, of course they're argyle, with him. Kame doesn't hesitate before wrapping his lips around Nakamaru's cock, and it fits perfectly in his mouth, just like Kame knew it would.
"You're so hot like that," Nakamaru wheezes as Kame looks up at him through his bangs, bobbing up and down off of Nakamaru's penis, one hand on Nakamaru's hip and the other toying gently with his balls.
"Obviously," Kame says, before he stands up and kisses Nakamaru again, just because he can.
Then Kazuya has the lube in one hand and he's squirting some onto his fingers and finding Nakamaru's entrance. "Where the heck did you find lube?" Nakamaru gasps out. "Like seriously," he adds, tugging on Kame's pants, trying to pull them down. "There is no possible way you could have anything in the pockets of these jeans."
Kame raises his eyebrow superiorly. "I'm the Eternal Jeanist," Kame responds. "I can do magic with jeans." He's wriggling as he speaks, and somehow the jeans fall smoothly to the floor in front of Nakamaru's amazed eyes, even as Kame continues to calmly slide two fingers in and out of Nakamaru, nudging his prostate and drawing needy grunts out of his captive.
"Like a subspace pocket, or something," Nakamaru manages. "Like Sailor Moon."
"I am way more sexy than Sailor Moon," Kame says with a groan, as he pushes inside of the warm heat.
"She's kind of a prude anyway," Nakamaru replies, eyes clenched tightly closed as he clutches the fabric of Kame's vest, and lifts his legs to wrap them around Kame's waist. "Not my type."
"Only because you'd never get anywhere," Kame squeezes out between gasps, his heart thudding in his chest as he gets closer to release. Nakamaru seems close too, his tight hole constricting around Kame like a vice.
Nakamaru comes first, spilling onto his own stomach as Kame follows close behind, spilling inside of him. "You don't have any diseases, right?"
"I like to be unattainably hot," Kame responds, slipping out of Nakamaru and pressing his half-clothed body up against him, holding them both up. "You can look but you can't touch."
"I touched..." Nakamaru says with a pleased little smile. "I must pass inspection."
"Your jeans are really hideous," is Kame's answer, but he says it with a smile.
Later, as Kame grimaces for the camera as the photographer takes shot after shot of him doing suggestive things with household appliances, Koki leans over and whispers encouragingly into Kame's ear. "I'm really proud of the way you're dealing with the whole, you know."
"What?" Kame says, having no idea what Koki is referring to.
"The zit," Koki stage whispers, and Kame's eyes widen in horror.
"Oh god, I forgot!" Kame screeches, and he pulls his hands out of a pair of oven mitts to hide his face. "I'm so ashamed," he sobs into his hands.
Ueda groans. "I'm sitting here giving fellatio to a duster and you're ashamed," he snarks. "God, I hate you."
"I don't hate you, Nakamaru says softly, pitched so only Kame can hear, and Kame forgets all about his zit. "Cause you're T, to the a, to the s, t, e, y."
