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There comes a time in every man’s life where he just has to sit down and think about the direction his life is taking.
Samatoki was currently going through that time. He’d had a vague idea for a while, known that whatever ride he was on had taken some weird turns– though not weird enough for him to think about slamming the brakes just yet. It wasn’t until the wind was roaring in his ears, stinging his eyes and making tears fly with the sheer speed of it, and the wheels lifted from the asphalt at every slight curve that he realized he might be in trouble.
At that point it was too late, of course.
He watched as Riou raised his axe, muscles accentuated by the setting sun. The axe fell with impeccable aim, cleaving through wood without a snag.
See, Samatoki had eyes. Twenty-twenty vision. And he wasn’t stupid– his brain was in perfect working condition for the most part, with a perfectly normal sense of aesthetics. He knew, objectively, that Riou was a handsome man. No one would be able to look you in the eye and say Riou was unattractive. It was just a flat out fact that Busujima Riou was a very good looking motherfucker.
Samatoki had just never thought about it. Up until recently, the obvious fact that Riou was hot shit had just been up in the air, quietly acknowledged without any further discussion. But today had been blazing hot. Still was. And Riou, being a normal human prone to overheating and completely oblivious to Samatoki’s predicament, had tossed his jacket to the side. And his undershirt. All of it.
Riou lifted his axe again. Samatoki’s eyes followed the curve of his biceps. Man, he was in it to the waist.
A gloved finger tapped against his chin and closed his mysteriously open mouth with a loud clack, muted by the sound of sharpened steel cleaving wood.
“Subtlety is a foreign concept to you, I see.” Jyuto clicked his tongue.
“The fuck it is,” Samatoki snarled and swatted at his hand, skin hitting red leather with a satisfying smack. “The next time you touch me I’ll bite your fingers off.”
“Oh my,” Jyuto replied, coy and unperturbed. Why he bothered keeping up such an annoying facade, Samatoki couldn’t fathom. He knew damn well that Jyuto was more than capable of completely losing his shit. He would never understand people who just pushed their anger down and went on with their day. Could never be him. But then again, he wasn’t a crooked cop either.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out the vague shape of Riou swinging the axe again. As he turned his head to resume his (arguably inappropriate) ogling, he noticed that Jyuto did the same. Which wasn’t inherently weird, considering that Riou’s lumberjack act was literally the only other thing going on.
No, the weird thing was the way Jyuto looked at him. The slight purse of his lips and the laser-like focus in his eyes. Samatoki switched his own focus over to Riou, who forced the axe firmly into the stump, letting go of the shaft to roll his shoulders before yanking it back out and continuing. Jyuto shifted, swallowed, crossed his legs.
Suddenly, Jyuto’s behaviour was ten times more interesting than Riou’s gun show.
Thud . Riou reached for another log.
He waited, watched Jyuto’s eyes as they followed the motion of whatever Riou was doing in Samatoki’s peripheral.
Thud.
Jyuto folded his hands in his lap.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. And Jyuto had the gall to lecture him about being subtle?
“Pervert,” Samatoki drawled.
Jyuto’s whole face twitched, the corner of his mouth starting to form the barest hint of a snarl before he reigned himself in.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jyuto retorted, without taking his eyes off of Riou.
“Bull shit,” Samatoki leaned over, very pointedly looking at his hands.
“Do not.”
It was a threat disguised as a warning, which Samatoki promptly ignored in the light of his new revelation.
“Shitty bunny cop wants to fuck the navy man!” Samatoki pointed at him like a grade schooler who just figured out who his classmate had a crush on. Jyuto’s ever-perfect composure frayed at the seams again, that miniscule snarl threatening to tear through his mask.
“Samatoki.” Jyuto exhaled with an exaggerated calm that only confirmed the suspicion of a raging fire underneath. The faintest hint of pink dusted his cheeks, and Samatoki almost screamed.
“You’re fucking b–” that was about as far as he came with that statement before Jyuto’s hands were balled in the fabric of his shirt.
“Not. Another. Word from you,” Jyuto breathed, snarl finally breaking free and springing out in its full feral glory. If looks could kill, the one Jyuto was currently pinning him with would have fucking nuked him. Samatoki knew, somewhere in the back of his mind that he probably should stop grinning like a madman before this escalated any further. But Jyuto’s breath hit his face like fumes, the pink in his cheeks spreading to his ears and oh my god, this was the best day of Samatoki’s twenty-five year old life.
Iruma Jyuto, out in fuck-all nowhere, hot and bothered from watching a crewmate do physical labour. This one was going to follow Jyuto to the grave and Samatoki would be the person to make absolutely, one hundred percent sure that he never ever got to live it down.
“Is it true? The fucking like rabbits thing?” Samatoki’s mouth said before his brain could slam the brakes. The grip on his collar tightened, green eyes igniting with something caustic and violent.
“I am going to tear you limb from fucking limb,” Jyuto gritted through his teeth, all black smoke. It was so raw and rancorous and oh man, Samatoki really shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he was. Jyuto’s mouth formed around something nasty, but didn't get further than the first syllable.
“What are you guys doing?” Riou asked over the tall stack of firewood in his arms.
“Wrestling,” Samatoki said in the same instant that Jyuto said “Nothing.”
The look he earned from Jyuto for that one was just a hair short of murderous. The look they got from Riou was blank. He blinked, once.
“It seems you’re not very good at it.”
Oh, for all that is still worth fighting for in this shithole of a world, have mercy on this sweet man. He had no idea. He had no earthly fucking clue. Riou didn’t have the slightest inkling that the two men in front of him would fuck him in a heartbeat if the opportunity presented itself.
“Do you want me to teach you?” Riou asked, setting the pile of wood down.
“What?” Samatoki wasn’t deaf. He’d heard Riou loud and clear, but the implications of what he offered had him thoroughly blindsided. It came so hard out of left field that he didn’t even notice Jyuto letting go of his collar to resume his inconspicuous position with his hands in his lap.
“Proper wrestling,” Riou supplied helpfully.
“Real shit?” Samatoki got up and sauntered over to Riou, seeing this as an opportunity to leave Jyuto hanging on the edge of a fight like an asshole.
“Since you’re a beginner, I'll be gentle,” Riou said, considerate as ever. Samatoki snorted.
“You think I’m made of glass? Just fuck me up man,” he cackled, only half joking. God, he wanted Riou to fuck him up. He wanted it so bad.
“That would be irresponsible,” Riou deadpanned.
The blunt genuinity of this man was going to kill him someday.
With practiced ease, Riou leaned forward, spread his feet and bent his knees. Well, that seemed easy enough. Samatoki copied him.
“Keep your elbows at a ninety degree angle,” Riou shook his own arms for emphasis. Man, those forearms were impressive.
“Elbows between your thighs,” Riou directed as he took a step closer to adjust Samatoki’s stance.
Now, Samatoki wasn’t one to follow orders. He was not the kind of man you could just tell to do shit. If you ordered Samatoki Aoshitsugi to do shit, in the best case scenario you’d end up with a broken nose.
Objectively, he was aware that he should hate this. Would usually hate this. But when Riou came at him, voice low and with the potential intention to literally kick his ass– it just did something to him. Lowered his hackles and made him docile.
Riou was also extremely shirtless, so that could possibly have something to do with it. That chest was pretty damn disarming.
“I’ll show you how to pin your opponent,” Riou continued, and Samatoki had to pry his eyes away from his pecs. Right. Roughhousing. That’s what they were doing.
“I’m going to get inside your defenses,” Riou warned, unaware that he had already torn down every single one of Samatoki’s walls. Some cryptonite bullshit this was.
He probably should be paying attention to the way Riou dropped a step and dragged his leg forward. There were probably some instructions coming out of his mouth as he did it, too. ‘Staggered stance’ he heard faintly somewhere.
“– takedown,” Riou’s voice rumbled from somewhere under his chin.
Bare arms grasped at the outside of his thighs. A leg was suddenly in between his own. Strong hands gripped the back of his thighs as Riou’s shoulder pressed against his stomach and his head dug into Samatoki’s hip. Then the ground vanished under the soles of his feet as Riou bodily toppled him over, pressing him face-down to the forest floor. Firm but gentle, and Samatoki let out a noise that he would deny until he was six feet under.
“You were supposed to resist that,” Riou breathed a laugh above him, both too close and not close enough to his ear. From where his face was currently being forced into the ground, Samatoki could see Jyuto.
Jyuto– who was watching them with a hyper-tuned intensity that could only mean one thing.
Pervert, Samatoki thought again, flashing him a wicked grin. Jyuto didn’t snarl this time.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Samatoki mumbled into the dirt, shifting to crane his neck back and look at Riou. The weight on top of him didn’t budge.
“No,” Riou replied, steady. “I’m not done with you yet, Samatoki.”
Oh. Oh, that arguably innocent statement should not be as hot as it was. Every single muscle in Samatoki’s body tensed as Riou’s ridiculously strong arm looped beneath his armpit, calloused palm coming up to push down on his neck. Riou’s full weight mercilessly drove him against the ground as his shoulder was pulled up, and Samatoki found himself fucking squirming.
“Try to get up,” Riou’s voice reverberated from his throat, vibrating where his chest was pressed to Samatoki’s back and fucking hell, he suddenly understood with blaring clarity what karma was.
“It’s hard, isn't it?” Riou asked nonchalantly. It took Samatoki a long, terrifying second to realize he was talking about the pinning and not the rising arousal that Riou was currently pressing into the ground with his weight.
“Fuck– dude,” Samatoki groaned, narrowly avoiding the complete annihilation of his own dignity by saying ‘fuck me’. Not that he had much of it left, wriggling and writhing like a horny worm from being manhandled while some voyeuristic bastard cop took it all in.
The worst part was that he didn’t even mind. Hell, if Riou decided to fuck him right here, right now, he would look Jyuto directly in the eyes while it happened.
Suddenly, the hand on his neck disappeared. Samatoki’s lungs appreciated the newly found breathing space as the pressure of Riou’s body against his own relented. Samatoki himself, however, did not. He wanted Riou to press into him until no one could to tell where one ended and the other began, wanted Riou to pant his name over his shoulder and leave marks on his neck. He wanted to open his collar wide and tell the world that yes, I fucked Busujima Mason Riou.
It was with these thoughts swirling around in his head, coiling and thrashing all the way down to his groin, that Samatoki blindly reached out and grasped feverishly at something, anything to keep Riou close for a little while longer. If there was one thing Samatoki excelled at, it was doing wildly stupid shit on impulse without consoling with a single brain cell first.
The brain cell in question kicked in first after he realized that his nails were digging into broad shoulders and his lips were growling against Riou’s.
Samatoki jerked back like he had just put his whole palm on a stovetop. Riou just looked at him, eyes wide and befuddled.
“Oh,” was all he said, with a lilt Samatoki couldn’t quite decipher. A long moment passed while Riou seemed to think, eyebrows lightly drawn together in concentration. “Samatoki, are you sure you want to do this sort of thing right in front of Jyuto? It seems kind of indecent.”
At some point, Jyuto as a concept had stopped existing to Samatoki. His neck snapped in Jyuto’s general direction, and the man looked fit to start screaming like a boiling teapot any second. Samatoki looked back at Riou, slightly grounded by the fact that he was so unphased by this entire situation.
“‘s fine,” he swallowed. “Jyuto’s a freak. He likes to watch.”
“Oh,” Riou said again, looking over at Jyuto with a weird sort of wonder in his eyes. “That’s fine, then.”
How could he just say shit like that in a situation like this and make it sound like they were just discussing what to have for dinner. Were all soldiers this unruffled? Or was this just a Riou thing? Samatoki scraped his heel on the ground. For the first time today, his cheeks burned.
“So…? Are we gonna give the bastard a show or what?”
Riou’s eyes were on him again. “I’d like that.”
Again with the otherworldly tranquility.
Samatoki gathered himself and sat up– the brainless stunt he pulled earlier had left them in kind of an awkward tangle, and with minimal effort, he dragged himself onto Riou’s lap.
This was happening. This was actually fucking happening.
Riou kissed him the same way he held his gaze, steady and gentle. The same unwavering reliability that made Samatoki want to just sink into him, let himself go and be vulnerable for a while.
Now was not the time for that, though. Right now, he was on a mission.
Heavy hands slid up his thighs, politely stopping at his hips. Samatoki unceremoniously moved those hands directly onto his own ass, because god damn it, they were giving Mr. Voyeur a show here, weren’t they? This weak gentlemanly shit wasn’t gonna cut it.
Riou took the hint. God, did he take it. He started, but only for a second before he literally hauled ass to press Samatoki closer, flush up against his chest. Samatoki barely had the time to react, one moment the only tongue in his mouth was his own, and in the next he had a mouth full of Riou. Grasping uselessly at strong shoulders, Samatoki made another sound that he would rather die than admit came from him.
There was also a strained noise somewhere to his right– probably Jyuto. But right now he was too busy letting Riou defile his mouth to care if law enforcement was jacking off next to him.
Samatoki pulled at Riou’s lower lip, briefly wondering if he could get away with fondling his tits. Riou didn’t seem to have a problem with grabbing wildly at his ass. Samatoki was probably allowed to touch some titty. He slid his hands down, cupping both pecs with his whole palm. Riou inhaled sharply as a nipple caught between Samatoki’s index and ring finger. He pressed the pads of his fingers into the skin, feeling the rise and fall of Riou’s chest as he breathed.
Quick, steady heartbeats also thrummed against Samatoki’s palms.
“Samatoki,” Riou murmured against his lips. “How much further are you planning to take this?”
Samatoki halted. That was a question and a half. He knew where he wanted to take this, but whether or not Riou was game for that, he had no idea. Making out to fuck with your voyeuristic friend and actually boning were to completely different concepts, on different planets. Maybe this was a bit too much. Pulling back enough to look Riou in the eyes, he opened his mouth to say… to say something. Something that evaporated immediately upon meeting Riou’s scorching hot gaze. Pupils blown wide and face flushed.
“I…” Riou started, shifting slightly under him. Samatoki felt something on the underside of his thigh. “I think we’ve overstepped our platonic boundaries.”
“No shit,” Samatoki panted.
“Oh my god,” Jyuto groaned next to them. “This cannot be happening.”
“It absolutely the fuck is,” Samatoki retorted, turning to look at Jyuto, whose face was beet red and practically emitting visible heatwaves.
“Of all the–” Jyuto dragged his hand down his face. Samatoki couldn’t tell where his glove ended and his skin began. “I’m out in the wilderness completely consumed by lust and you two just realized that slobbering all over each other in front of a third person isn’t a platonic thing to do. I hate you. Both of you.”
Samatoki very dramatically draped his arms around Riou’s neck, immensely satisfied with the way it made Jyuto’s eyebrow twitch.
“No one’s stopping you from joining, ya know.”
“I am not going to roll around on the ground with you like a dog,” Jyuto snapped and straightened his tie. Samatoki groaned. Who cared about the suit. What kind of fucking dumbass wore a suit to a campsite, anyway.
“If that bothers you, the tent might be a better option,” Riou supplied helpfully.
“I– fucking–” something like a choked sputter wrung itself out of Jyuto’s throat and his hands fell back in his lap.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Riou said, like this was the first day of sex ed at a high school and not three dudes coming to terms with the fact that they desperately wanted to fuck each other. With a heavy sigh, Samatoki got up.
“Listen, I would kill to see you this flustered on literally any other day of the week,” he said as he meandered over to Jyuto. “but right now I almost feel fucking sorry for you and it’s a real ballbuster.”
Jyuto’s head snapped up, snarl at the ready. Samatoki continued.
“If you don’t wanna do this, that’s fine, but if you’re just getting your panties in a twist because you’re embarrassed about your one third of the boners on the premise–” he paused to take a breath. “then cut that shit out and just kiss me already.”
Jyuto stared at him with an expression that slipped right through the cracks between ‘fucking pissed’ and ‘young maiden who just received a letter from her lover’. He swallowed once, thickly. As he stood up, Samatoki noted that dress pants were exceptionally unequipped for boner situations. His train of thought didn’t get much further than that though, because Jyuto’s hands were suddenly on either side of his face, pulling him close.
Jyuto kissed him a lot more feverishly than he had expected. Not that he had ever thought about how Jyuto would kiss him. Samatoki grabbed at his hips, fingers curling in his belt loops and tugging at them until Jyuto was pressed up against him. Gloved fingers tangled in his hair, forcing his mouth off of Jyuto’s.
Whatever kind of horny meltdown he was having before, it sure as hell wasn’t a concern anymore– all that Samatoki could see in his eyes now was a corrosive hunger. It suited him.
“Flushing like that really brings out the green in your eye–” Jyuto cut him off by yanking his hair.
“You’re lucky I’m too horny to get mad at you right now,” Jyuto said, letting go and smoothing out the strands where he’d tussled them. The rapid succession of violence and tender touch left Samatoki too whiplashed to snap back at him. Yep, it definitely suited him.
Samatoki found himself grinning as he turned back towards Riou, who had taken to dusting himself off while his two teammates were sucking face. He beelined for the tent, ‘helping’ Riou dust off by patting his ass as he passed.
“Where are you going?” Riou asked, completely unbothered.
“Following your tent suggestion? Fuckin’ duh.”
After a frankly embarrassing battle with the tent flap, Samatoki kicked his boots off and scrambled in. The rest of the motley crew followed shortly after, Jyuto setting his shoes down neatly next to one of Samatoki’s before climbing in. Once settled, he shrugged his jacket off and put that aside as well. The tent rustled as Riou entered, completing the ragtag assembly.
There was a moment where they all sort of just… Traded glances with each other. Jyuto behind him, Riou in front of him and Samatoki himself smack dab in the middle. Objectively, this entire situation was ridiculous. Three grown-ass men stuffing themselves into a tent specifically to bone– it was fucking hilarious. Finally, Samatoki broke.
“Fuckin’... C’mere,” he snorted, beckoning Riou with a laugh.
“Is something funny?” Riou asked as he climbed over him, and that just made Samatoki laugh more.
“This is nuts,” he replied as he wrapped his arms around his neck. Riou huffed against his lips, a vague sound of agreement. Maybe it should have been embarrassing, how giddy he felt as he let Riou settle between his legs while Jyuto’s eyes seared holes into the back of his head. But it wasn’t, and Samatoki leaned backwards until his back was flat against the tarp, Jyuto’s knee pressing lightly against his temple. Riou’s fingers crept underneath the hem of his shirt, eagerly opening his mouth as Samatoki slid his tongue across his lips.
The slide of Riou’s hands over his ribs was firm and slow, tantalizingly so, and Samatoki barely suppressed a whine when his fingers brushed over a nipple. Riou pressed his thumb against it as he trailed leisurely kisses along his jaw, down his neck. The damp press of lips against his pulse combined with the continuous, slow drag of fingers on his chest left Samatoki smouldering. His fingers raked lightly across Riou’s back, and that earned him a press of teeth and tongue against skin. Angling his head to let Riou do more of that, he pressed his head harder into Jyuto’s knee. Samatoki looked up at him, eyes half-lidded and mouth open as Jyuto’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip.
“Riou,” Samatoki panted, prying his eyes away from Jyuto’s scrutiny. “I ain’t gonna break, you know? Go hard or go home.”
The hands on his chest halted as Riou pulled back to look at him. “Are you sure?”
“Do whatever the fuck you want to me, man.” Samatoki snapped, and that reply seemed to actually ruffle Riou’s composure a bit. The muscles in his jaw tensed as his eyes trailed back down to Samatoki’s neck. If Riou were to tear his throat out, Samatoki would let him.
Riou shifted, and Samatoki let his head fall back against the tarp as Riou surged for his neck again– his knee firmly planted between his thighs. Clunky hands tugged at the buttons on his shirt, clumsily trying to coax them open as Riou closed his mouth against the soft skin in the crook of Samatoki’s neck. The solid, unmoving pressure against his groin made him squirm, not enough and too much at the same time. He tried to grind against Riou’s thigh, but that just earned him a grunt and a steadying hand on his hip.
“Wait,” Riou rasped, lips hovering over his collarbone. Samatoki stilled. The hand holding him down weighed heavy, authoritative. It held him fast with the promise of a reward if he listened. Riou trailed his other hand down, latching onto Samatoki’s belt and rustling the buckle until it loosened enough for him to pull his pants down.
“Stop me if I do something you don’t like.” Riou demanded as his fingers hooked around the elastic of Samatoki’s underwear, pausing briefly to search Samatoki’s face for any wavering sign.
“I told you,” Samatoki breathed heavily, stopping Riou being the furthest thing from his mind right now. “Do whatever the hell you want.”
Riou swallowed, and then Samatoki’s only remaining article of clothing was his shirt, dangling pathetically from one shoulder. Riou’s own pants joined Samatoki’s somewhere on the tent floor shortly after.
“Jyuto,” Riou suddenly said, and for the second time today Samatoki was reminded that Jyuto did in fact exist. “Can you hand me that bag?”
Riou pointed to a green bag, haphazardly slung into the corner. Samatoki vaguely remembered that being the bag that he put all his useless shit in. Which was to say, anything that wasn’t essential to surviving on a campsite. The bag traded hands and Riou shoved his hand into it, jostling whatever unessential survival goods were in it. Eventually, he pulled out a gaudy pink tube of lube. It looked astonishingly dumb in his hands.
“Why do you have that,” Samatoki drawled, almost going soft at the sight of it. Riou’s eyes turned distant for a second, then he shook his head.
“Long story.”
“I take my question back,” Samatoki sputtered, propping himself up on his elbows. If Riou went off on a story-driven tangent right now, none of them would get off until he was done. “I don’t wanna know.”
“Ah, I wasn’t going to tell you. The task at hand is more important,” Riou smiled, putting a hand on his knee. “Do you mind turning over?”
Well. Samatoki didn’t need to worry about going soft anytime soon. He felt himself flush, a hot wave that washed over him as he complied, wringing his body and getting on all fours. All he could see in front of him was Jyuto’s lap. His elbows dug into the tarp, scraping against the hard ground underneath. This was going to be murder on the–
Something rustled next to him.
“For your knees,” Riou said as he gently nudged a sleeping bag under him. Samatoki grunted in a way he hoped was appreciative. In front of him, Jyuto’s red leather gloves were pulled taut over the knuckles of tightly clenched fists. From his mostly face-down position, Samatoki couldn’t really see his eyes, but he felt them. He felt them burn over sharp lines of his shoulders and the curve of his back, searing red-hot where Riou’s hand traced over his hips.
He felt a warm palm on the small of his back and the shift of Riou’s frame. Something soft and slightly damp pressed gently against his back where it arched.
A kiss, Samatoki realized.
Then he heard the snap of a bottle cap. His pulse skipped, anticipatory energy skittering through him as he inhaled, waiting, wired for Riou to touch him.
“Are you still okay with this?” Riou’s voice rumbled against the skin on his back. Slick fingers brushed against his entrance, kind and questioning. Why he felt the need to even ask that, when Samatoki was literally rock hard and on his hands and knees for him, he didn’t understand. But that was just Riou, wasn’t it? Stalwart and reassuring down to the marrow, even when he didn’t need to be.
He mumbled something that could indistinctly be translated to ‘yeah’, which seemed to be enough for Riou. Another kiss to his back– and Riou’s fingers pressed into him. With a strained sigh, Samatoki let his forehead fall onto Jyuto’s knee. Jyuto shifted, gingerly guiding Samatoki’s head into his lap. The fabric of his dress pants felt smooth against Samatoki’s cheek as Riou’s fingers sank in further, agonizingly slow.
“Just look at you,” Jyuto said nonsensically, trailing a finger along Samatoki’s jaw. The outline of Jyuto’s face was blurred at the edges, but even from this angle, Samatoki could tell he was smiling. He had a retort ready at the tip of his tongue, but as he opened his mouth to spit it out, Riou’s fingers curled and all that came out of him was a gasp. The noise drew a pleased hum from Riou, who promptly did it again.
Samatoki groaned, voice weak and needy as those fingers slid halfway out and pushed back in, wringing a low almost-moan out of him. Riou’s teeth skirted hot and heavy along the skin of his back, and Samatoki damn near whimpered at the loss of contact when he withdrew his fingers.
“Fuck, Riou–” Samatoki panted, every single cell in his body wanting for Riou to come back, to keep touching him. Although he knew he wouldn’t, Samatoki wanted Riou to take him like a python, unhinge his jaw and wrap himself around him until Samatoki forgot how to breathe.
He wanted Riou to fuck him senseless.
The hand on his hip was stern, holding Samatoki in place. He could feel Riou lining up, nestling against his hole. Samatoki inhaled, slack jawed while grasping uselessly at the tarp under his hands as Riou pressed into him. Jyuto’s finger traced his face again, thumb flitting gently over his cheek.
“My, what a sight you are,” Jyuto murmured. His voice held a low, dark grit Samatoki had never heard before, kind of like the red glow of embers. It sent a prominent shiver down his spine.
“Shut it,” Samatoki hissed, lacking any bite. The sensation of Riou’s cock inside him left his head too muddled to fling insults.
Samatoki mewled at the first thrust of Riou’s hips. It was easy and slow, a cautious testing of the waters on Riou’s part that ignited a faint spark in Samatoki. Riou let out a low hiss, one that sounded like steam escaping a valve as he pulled back and thrust into him again, making that spark flicker.
His hands scrambled over the tent floor, clawing for anything that would let him hold onto it. With the comforting weight of his palm on Samatoki’s lower back, Riou settled into his own rhythm, finally taking his ‘do whatever you want’ to heart. Samatoki’s mouth fell open, sighing heavily into Jyuto’s lap. The red blur of Jyuto’s glove stopped tracing Samatoki’s features, pulling away to grasp at his hand, gently tugging it away from where his nails were snarling into the side of Jyuto’s thigh. When did he do that?
A moan tore its way through his throat as Riou angled his hips right, and Jyuto’s fingers slotted into the clammy space between Samatoki’s, lightly squeezing his hand, grounding him as Riou continued his rigorous pace.
“If only you would see yourself now,” Jyuto said, again with that low voice. Samatoki didn’t have the wherewithal to respond, another moan working its way out of him.
“You’re so good,” Jyuto cooed, his free hand softly raking through Samatoki’s hair.
Samatoki was too far gone to tell him to fuck off. Instead he pressed his open mouth to Jyuto’s thigh, stifling the next moan Riou wrung out of him. Jyuto’s soothing voice and gentle touches combined with the relentless way Riou fucked him was too much. If the way he clenched Jyuto’s hand hurt, Jyuto didn’t reprimand him for it, just kept petting his hair and whispering sweet, soothing nothings as Samatoki writhed and gasped, his orgasm approaching like a wildfire in dry grass. The noise he choked out when Riou’s hand wrapped around his dick was just a hair short of a sob, and he was so, so grateful for Jyuto’s lap as Riou thrust hard, driving them both over the edge with a deep, guttural moan.
Jyuto’s fingers stayed in Samatoki’s hair as he shuddered through it all, repeating the same hushed ‘you’re good, you’re good, you’re so good, Samatoki.’ until he caught his breath and Riou carefully pulled out.
With Riou out of the picture as a supporting pillar, Samatoki collapsed, unable to hold himself up any longer. He couldn’t care less about the come he was absolutely laying on, it was his own and he would deal with that shit later.
“Hey,” Samatoki rasped, untangling his fingers from Jyutos grasp to smack his thigh. “The fuck are you wearing pants for?”
Jyuto made a strangled noise like he was going to protest, but Samatoki’s eyes were fixed on the cock that was very clearly straining against his pants.
Samatoki looked up. Looked down. Looked up again.
“So? You gonna whip that shit out or nah?”
After all that calm bullshit he was spilling while Samatoki got railed, Jyuto sure looked hella flushed now. He swallowed thickly, awkwardly jostling his belt free from the buckle. Samatoki very unhelpfully scooted closer, propping his chin up with his hand as he watched Jyuto coax himself out of the refinement of his expensive pants. Samatoki thought, briefly, how much he wanted to ruin them with unspeakable stains.
“Holy shit,” Samatoki gawked as Jyuto finally freed himself. His dick throbbed, taut and purplish red, and it looked downright painful.
This is because he watched Riou fuck the living daylights out of me , his brain reminded him.
“I didn’t do anything but squirm for you, man,” Samatoki mumbled as he nudged Jyuto’s knees apart.
“You–” whatever Jyuto was going to say cut off on a sputter as Samatoki wrapped his fingers around the shaft. The crooked bastard deserved this much, with how he had cradled Samatoki as he rode out his own orgasm, murmuring words of encouragement. Maybe on a different day, at a different time, he would whisper those soothing praises directly in Samatoki’s ear.
Jyuto’s hand fell heavy on his shoulder as Samatoki leaned in and parted his lips over the head. Not feeling mean enough to tease him right now, Samatoki relaxed his jaw and took Jyuto in as far as his throat would let him. It earned him a strained little ‘ah’, which was disgustingly cute, if Samatoki had anything to say about it. He slid back, cheeks hollow and hummed at the way it made Jyuto gasp.
And then Jyuto came.
Harried like a storm, spilling warm and violent into Samatoki’s mouth, down his throat. He swallowed around him, taking all of it as Jyuto watched, slack jawed and dishevelled.
“You… Really didn’t need to do that,” Jyuto said, chest heaving and glasses hanging dangerously low on his nose. Samatoki wiped saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“If only you could see yourself now,” Samatoki grinned, loosely mimicking the words Jyuto had told him earlier. In their current, hazy state, Jyuto’s eyes didn’t have their usual caustic flare. Something like pride swelled in Samatoki’s chest and he decided that he quite liked this side of him, unkept and lost for his usual sharp words.
“I cannot stand you,” Jyuto uttered, fingers curling under Samatoki’s chin, pulling him up. The words sounded like a compliment, adoration thinly veiled by an insult. Samatoki took them, greedily clutching them close to his heart as Jyuto kissed him.
“Sentiment’s mutual,” Samatoki slurred against his lips. He’d expected Jyuto to put up a fuss, considering where his mouth had just been. It was delightful, discovering that Jyuto’s sharp lines and tight composure was so easy to pry away, a flimsy facade to hide the murky, nasty waters underneath.
Samatoki sat back, grimacing. Now was the time to regret his brilliant decision to not clean up, apparently.
“Riou,” he said, uncomfortably wiping at the come he’d stupidly smeared on his side. “I fucked up your sleeping bag, dude.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got wipes,” Riou replied, unbothered as ever.
“Give,” Samatoki turned, impatiently smacking his palms together, and was surprised to see a box of wipes already in Riou’s hands. Must have cleaned up while the other two were busy. Smart guy. Samatoki ripped out an unnecessary amount and started wiping down his own mess as best he could.
“Do you need one?” Riou asked, gesturing towards Jyuto with the box. Jyuto shook his head.
“My wipe is sitting right there,” he jerked his head towards Samatoki. The dirty wipes in his hand promptly flew towards Jyuto’s face.
“Shut your mouth, bunny boy,” Samatoki snarled, and Jyuto cackled wryly, easily dodging the loose trajectory of the crumpled tissues.
“What, now you’re embarrassed?” Jyuto’s sardonic tone had found its way back to him.
“At least I lasted more than two seconds!” Samatoki yelled, pointing wildly. Jyuto just shrugged.
“You’re excellent with your mouth.”
Jyuto’s voice was smooth and even with no underlying teasing intentions. Samatoki’s accusatory finger lowered as his shoulders crept up towards his ears.
“Fuck off,” he spat, cheeks burning. Jyuto pushed his glasses up with a smug smile that made Samatoki want to smack him.
Literally nothing had changed. The only difference between their team now and their team forty minutes ago was the fact that Samatoki had now had both Riou’s and Jyuto’s dicks inside of him, one way or another.
Perhaps he should feel a splash of shame at that, but Samatoki had never been one for common courtesy. He was completely fine with this development, and he would do it again. God, would he do it again.
Although next time he’d like the option to take a shower.