Mr. Jealousy [Oneshot]

[h_itoshi]

Title: Mr. Jealousy
Fandom: Kis-My-Ft2
Pairing: Fujigaya/Kitayama
Rating: Nc-17
Wordcount: 2561
Warnings: Shameless pwp, jealousy, semi-public + unprotected sex, rimming
Notes: I promised Seva to write a Fujikita fic for her, and I must admit I struggled quite a lot xD But I finally produced something I think works, so. I hope someone else does too xD
Summary: The fact that flirting with others is part of a jealousy game bordering a fine line of cheating doesn't help Fujigaya's addiction to it.

 

The strobe lights are blinding, making the world a movie of stills where drunk people can look like better dancers than they are. Fujigaya's way too drunk for them though, and even though Kawai makes faces that are hilarious just to make Fujigaya laugh, he has to close his eyes not to get dizzy.

He feels a presence behind him and he doesn't really mind, the perfume wading its way through the smoke and sweat quite pleasant.

When the strobes are exchanged for ordinary flashing neon again, he opens his eyes to look at the smiling girl pressing up against him, thinking that she's even kinda cute. Long hair, dark eyes, tight tank top. He offers her a smile back, glancing at Kawai who just rolls his eyes and turns to Totsu instead, clearly giving up on him.

Kawai never understood this, and Fujigaya doesn't expect him to. He just loves flirting, loves feeling attractive and playful and having fun, even though he's madly in love with someone else. It's like a disease almost, he just can't help it. The fact that flirting with others is part of a jealousy game that's bordering a fine line of cheating doesn't help his addiction either.

He turns to the girl, letting her step in close and joins her dance rhythm, smiles when she smiles and her eyes are already asking him to fuck her in a filthy bathroom downstairs and Fujigaya loves it. He knows he shouldn't, that it's mean to play along when he has no intention of taking off any clothes for her, but he can't help it. Club rules aren't fair after all.

He lets her roll her hips into his, grinding against his crotch and slowly awakening erection, but she's not what makes him aroused. It's the thought of who could be watching him with dark eyes right now. Who he hopes is watching.

Nothing about this is normal, he already knows that, but it becomes so sickeningly obvious when she wraps her arms around his neck, suggestive smile coming closer and Fujigaya wouldn't hesitate to let her kiss him if she tried. It's nothing in comparison to him anyway.

Their relationship was never normal to begin with. A mess of cheating and fighting and heartbreaks and second chances, and this was how it finally settled into something that works. Fujigaya can flirt with others, as long as he doesn't sleep with them.

The girl before him is just starting to lean in when there's a strong arm wrapping around his waist, demanding and familiar and Fujigaya shudders, seeing the girl's shocked expression as she looks over his shoulder, slowly withdrawing her arms. She sends Fujigaya a look of upset confusion before disappearing in the crowd, and Fujigaya finds himself roughly spun around to face dark, dark eyes glaring at him.

He's always struck by how much power Kitayama's body contains despite his height, how only a single look can make Fujigaya submit to anything he wants, how he can manhandle him however he likes. Most of the time, he puts up a fight, never lets Kitayama win without him having to work for it, but in situations like these, Fujigaya gives in before they even started.

Kitayama holds his gaze as his arm tightens around Fujigaya's waist again, pulling him flush against Kitayama's front with such strength that Fujigaya almost feels weak at the knees. He gasps as his half hard erection presses against Kitayama, clearly in a similar state, the only confirmation that he somehow enjoys this too.

“Slut.” He sees Kitayama's lips move to form the word more than he hears it, but he knows exactly how it sounds in Kitayama's low voice and it echoes in his head like he could hear it now.

Fujigaya's arms drape over Kitayama's shoulders much like the girl had done to him just moments ago, giving himself over completely to whatever Kitayama wants and it's what they both love about this game.

It's all on Kitayama's terms, and sometimes Kitayama stops him as soon as he sees someone pretty, sometimes he doesn't interfere until Fujigaya's breathless from kisses and dragged towards a bathroom by a stranger. It's thrilling, not knowing how much is too much, or what Kitayama's going to do to him, if he's going to shove him to his knees and fuck his face or take him home to bed and tie him up and whisper sweet words while teasing him into a whimpering mess.

Tonight is not going to be sweet, Fujigaya can see it in Kitayama's eyes, and a shiver runs down his spine in anticipation because he secretly likes it better that way.

He lets himself be dragged along when Kitayama grabs his wrist and pulls him through the crowd, no idea where they're heading but he doesn't really care either.

He gets a little suspicious when Kitayama drags him through a door that he's pretty sure they can't use, then through a tiny corridor and out a fire door into a back alley.

It's slim and empty, full of containers of trash and the wires hang low above them, barely enough for a small truck to pass. The silence rings in Fujigaya's ears as the door slams closed behind them, until he vaguely hears some drunken laughter and rambling from the bigger street 50 metres away, and he's a bit nervous now.

Kitayama raises an eyebrow at him, but there's a playful smirk on his lips and he just pulls Fujigaya a little further down the street, behind a container and Fujigaya can't see the big street anymore, only a hint of light coming over the top of the container before he's turned around and shoved face first against the brick wall.

He barely catches himself against the rough surface, wincing at the scrape against his palms, but he still doesn't really mind. There was a safeword once, just in case, but Fujigaya's forgotten it because Kitayama's never done anything to him that he didn't want.

He can't help a small moan from leaving his lips when Kitayama drapes himself over Fujigaya's back, bodyheat seeping through their thin shirts and Fujigaya arches up against him. A startled gasp tumbles out as Kitayama doesn't hesitate to press one hand between Fujigaya's legs, palm rubbing over his growing erection just harshly enough, while one hand slips under Fujigaya's shirt to go for his nipple and he's already feeling so overwhelmed he just moans.

Kitayama's hips roll against his ass unashamedly, growing harder with each grind and Fujigaya can feel his hot breath against the top of his spine, lips lazily dragging over his skin and sending shivers all over his body.

He's already so ready to come, to let Kitayama do anything as long as it feels good, and what he gets off most on is the dirty feeling of it, the brick wall under his palms and the muffled laughs from the main street.

Swift fingers settle on his belt then, undoing belt and pants like it's the only thing they're made to do, and Fujigaya shivers as his pants and underwear are pushed down over his ass, exposing him to the night air and he feels his face flush in a strange mix of shame and arousal.

Slick fingers rub against his ass cheek just a moment later and he jumps, then pushes back impatiently to get Kitayama's fingers where they're needed. But Kitayama appears to enjoy taking his time, drawing a swirly pattern on his skin with the lube, some strokes chilling enough to give Fujigaya goosebumps when a wind passes by.

He hears a car pass on the bigger street and his heart rate speeds up even more because they don't have time to play around like this, anyone could come by.

“Mitsu.” He urges, but it comes out more like a desperate groan than the snap he wanted it to be.

Kitayama chuckles behind him, a low sound that makes Fujigaya clench at air even though he'd never admit how much he loves Kitayama's voice. At least he'd never admit it outside the bedroom.

He jerks when a sticky fingertip finally finds the muscles it should be teasing, then tries to relax through willpower as Kitayama's finger swirls inside him. He's stressed though and it's not that easy to relax, holding himself up against a brick wall while willing nobody to come by, and Kitayama's finger has to make a bit more effort than it usually does.

“Are you worried Taisuke?” Kitayama's velvety voice asks, the deep tone with layers of laughter and arousal that makes Fujigaya contract around his finger. “That someone might come by?”

He doesn't reply, knows this is one of Kitayama's filthy monologues and he's doing best to shut up and try and make Kitayama prepare him faster.

“You shouldn't be.” Kitayama mumbles, voice going even lower. “You're really showing yourself from your best side right now.”

Fujigaya groans and patiently waits as Kitayama keeps talking, words about how good he looks, that everyone should see him like this, while the fingers grow in number until they're three and spreading inside him. His thighs are trembling and his body clenching around Kitayama's slick fingers brushing against his prostate repeatedly, arms struggling to hold his face away from the wall as his cock hangs hard and throbbing between his legs.

The fingers withdraw, only to be replaced by an unsheated erection, and Fujigaya opens his mouth to complain there will be a mess, but instead a pathetic moan comes out as Kitayama starts pushing inside him, still thicker than those fingers and definitely longer.

Fujigaya's grateful when an arm wraps tightly around his waist as Kitayama goes excruciatingly slowly, making Fujigaya want to push back already because the stretch is just a tease of what's to come. But he can't, not yet, and Kitayama's arm keeps him from doing so if he'd try.

Instead his fingers curl against the rough brick under his hands, letting out some tension while he bites his lip, trying not to be too loud since he feels like it echoes in the night air.

Kitayama has no such qualms, groaning low in satisfaction when he can't go any deeper, waiting even though Fujigaya doesn't want him to, and he tries to squirm back against that cock inside him because he wants thrusts, hard and fast and now.

“Mitsu...” He repeats, breathy this time but still more desperate than he intended, and Kitayama's reply is a slow, deep thrust that has Fujigaya's arms almost giving out from the intensity.

He loves the slap of Kitayama's hips against his ass, loves the pressure, the edge of pain, and he lets his arms fold against the wall so he can moan into his own forearm as Kitayama picks up speed, going harder and more shallow and clearly not intending to draw this out.

Fujigaya's so hot he can feel his skin burning despite being exposed to chilly night air, feels his cheeks throbbing with blush and he tries his hardest to keep his sounds under control even though his breathing is nowhere near controllable. But then he feels fingers in his hair, threading through it and twisting thick strands between them to pull, and Fujigaya's moan comes out clear and desperate as he's pulled too far back to muffle his sounds anymore.

Kitayama knows all too well how sensitive he is about his hair, and he hates when someone touches it because of how it makes him feel. Except now he loves it.

He breathes a sigh as he feels hot lips against his ear, even though his position isn't that comfortable that voice so close makes it worth it.

“Want to touch yourself Taisuke?” Kitayama asks, and Fujigaya immediately starts struggling to detach a hand from the wall and move it to his cock, ignoring the thought of all the grime that's been on the wall. “I can fuck you until you come all over yourself without any help too. But I don't think you want to wait that long...”

A groan from Kitayama when Fujigaya clenches involutarily around him makes him finally get a hand onto himself, not wasting any time before starting to stroke. It's pleasure in the most raw way he ever feels it, no fuzz or romance surrounding it and softening the feeling, and Fujigaya moans helplessly, thighs quivering and if he wasn't outdoors he'd ask Kitayama to let him drop to his hands and knees.

Kitayama's moaning unashamedly now, little words of praise mixed in with Fujigaya's name having him spiralling higher and higher, seeing little stars at the corners of his eyes before his orgasm rips through his entire body like a lightning strike, pulsing through his veins and numbing him with pleasure as his cock pulses in his hand and it's perfect.

Kitayama keeps fucking him, if a little slower and deeper until Fujigaya can breathe again, then picks up speed to the point where Fujigaya just wants to tell him to stop, it's too much, but not quite.

Kitayama's arm pulls Fujigaya flush against him, a filthy moan muffled against Fujigaya's shoulder blade as he comes, groaning through his orgasm as his hips stutter. Fujigaya secretly relishes the feeling of hot wet liquid inside him, but he'd never admit it, and as Kitayama pulls out, he dutifully makes an upset noise as he feels come dripping out along with him.

“My jeans...” He complains, but Kitayama just huffs and withdraws his arm, leaving Fujigaya to hold himself up against the wall again because he can't stand properly yet, still numb in his legs and back too stiff.

He jumps with a groan when he suddenly feels a wet touch against his ass, head whipping around to see what's going on but he can't, the angle's too awkward.

“You complain so much.” Kitayama mumbles against his skin, then that tongue flicks out against Fujigaya's still exposed hole and licks up the mess, and Fujigaya doesn't know what to do with himself, hands helplessly clawing at the wall as he whimpers because the feeling is so conflicting between amazing and too shameful.

Thankfully Kitayama doesn't stay long, only removes the obvious mess and Fujigaya can't believe he likes doing this, something Fujigaya would never do himself because it's just too much. But Kitayama would do anything.

Finally, Kitayama presses a hot kiss against his ass before straightening up, hands helping Fujigaya get dressed again and he needs it because he's still trembling all over.

Kitayama turns him around, a soft smile on his lips that leaves no traces of either filth or jealousy, and Fujigaya wraps his arms around his neck to let himself be held until he can stand on his own again.

“Wanna go back inside?” Kitayama mumbles, and Fujigaya sighs, tightening his arms and holds him tight for another few moments.

“Yeah.” He agrees softly. “I might need a shot.”

“Me too.” Kitayama agrees, then a mischievous smile catches his lips and he's so gorgeous. “And for the rest of the night, you're not dancing with anyone else but me.”

Fujigaya smiles back, because now that the freak inside him is satisfied, he doensn't want to be with anyone else than Kitayama either.

 

~*~