Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6698908.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Ookiku_Furikabutte_|_Big_Windup!
  Relationship:
      Hanai_Azusa/Mihashi_Ren/Tajima_Yuuichirou, Mihashi_Ren/Tajima_Yuuichirou,
      Hanai_Azusa/Tajima_Yuuichirou
  Character:
      Hanai_Azusa, Tajima_Yuuichirou, Mihashi_Ren, Abe_Takaya, Sakaeguchi_Yuuto
  Additional Tags:
      i_am_so_sorry_hanai, (no_im_not), Fluff, Semi-Public_Sex, Exhibitionism,
      Accidental_Voyeurism, Snowballing, although_BARELY_bc_hanai_is_a
      SPOILSPORT, I_guess_technically_Tajima's_the_only_one_underage_here...BUT
      STILL.
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-30 Words: 10818
****** Be grateful for small favours ******
by zetsubooty
Summary
     This is not quite how he envisioned his First Real Kiss, upside-down
     with hard earth under his knees, the smell of sweat and leather and
     metal and grass still thick in the air, and Tajima fucking Yuuichirou
     gasping out “Whoaaaaaa!” like he’s at a goddamn fireworks show.
     Hanai keeps interrupting Things, and honestly can't tell whether or
     not to curse fate.
Notes
     this is absolutely nhu's fault, who has also dubbed this ship
     "peppered oyakodon"
See the end of the work for more notes
Hanai’s known he had a crush on Tajima since about three quarters of the way
through first year. That’s nothing new, and it’s no more or less obnoxious than
everything about that little twerp.
This. This is new, and it seems just…unfair.
It’s their last spring, just another practice like any other. Tajima’s talking
Mihashi down from another panic, low voices and heads together and Hanai’s only
vaguely paying attention because it’s pretty obvious it has to do with Abe
being across the field, occupied with putting prospective pitchers through
their paces. Still, Hanai watches in his peripheral vision because it’s hard
not to be hyper-conscious of Tajima like that.
His eyes snap over at this, though, at Tajima leaning closer to peck Mihashi’s
lips, then pulling back with a disarming grin and a giggle. And it’s sweet,
almost childlike, could be mistaken for something innocent if not for the way
Mihashi’s cheeks flame, if not for the sudden intent look in Tajima’s eyes, the
way he leans close to whisper something in Mihashi’s pink-tinged ear that
leaves them both snickering into their gloves before they jog back to their
respective positions.
But there’re kouhai to be wrangled and a dozen other things on Hanai’s mind and
it slips away from him until a night or two later, lying in bed and staring at
the ceiling and trying to think about The Future and Important Things and not
about a freckled face and blinding grin and then the image swims back into his
mind.
So…are they dating? Hanai grumbles and jams a pillow over his head. Missed my
goddamn chance. Of course. Just my luck.
He had no idea just how bad (or perhaps good) his luck was about to get.
It’s only about a week later when one of the first-years ‘helpfully’ brings a
bag of bats back to the clubroom, and the kid looks about ready to cry when
Hanai (very restrainedly) chews him out for it, so he just pats the guy on the
shoulder and tells him to go get changed, he’ll deal with it. It’s the absolute
last thing he wants to do after a long practice, the April dusk already long
fallen, but he figured out pretty quick that ‘needless hardass’ was not the
kind of captain he aspired to be, and a little kindness early on works wonders
for building trust.
Which is the sort of thing he’s thinking about as he walks up to the field, bag
slung easily across his chest, and perhaps a little bit thinking about how that
rule doesn’t apply to one short jackass who gets under his skin like no other
and seems impervious to Hanai’s anger anyway. Hanai pulls a resigned smile,
sighing out a breath as he braces the bag and dips to grab the handle of the
storage shed door (unlocked and not even shut properly, he also notes). With a
rattle and a whoosh, he yanks it up.
And then stops dead, arm still stretched up, glad he’s got the bag secure or
he’d probably have dropped it on his foot.
Tajima’s straddling Mihashi on the ground, backed up against a pitching
machine, which can’t be comfortable but Mihashi sure doesn’t seem bothered by
it at present. His mouth hangs open, as does his jersey, Tajima’s too, though
from this angle, Hanai can’t see whether his undershirt is also pushed up like
Mihashi’s. What he can see is Tajima bent over him, apparently sucking at a
nipple, hands curled on Mihashi’s sides with thumbs stroking over his skin, and
somehow, somehow the gentle starkness of distant streetlamps is just enough to
pick out the goosebumps on Mihashi’s skin, if not the flush he’s still sure is
bright across his cheeks. And Tajima rocking his hips still for a few seconds
that feel like eternity before lifting his head with an audible little pop and
a sigh of breath and turning to grin at Hanai over his shoulder like a cat
that’s been in the cream.
“Hey, Azusa! Lil' busy!”
Somehow, that cocky little assertion spurs him into action. He swings the bag
off his shoulder and sets it down gently as he can, then lunges forwards,
grabbing Tajima under the arms and hauling him back, barely giving him a chance
to get his feet under him.
“Hey! What the heck!”
“Don't...don't make out in the goddamn storage shed!" He’s pretty sure that
making out is not quite the right term.
“Why not? No one could see us! Well, I guess 'cept you…” Tajima snickers,
dangling from Hanai’s hold, completely uncowed.
For his part, Mihashi’s blinking up at Hanai, eyes wide as saucers. His hands
open and close on air for a few seconds before he hauls his undershirt up in
front of his face, then gives that up to curl forwards, drawing up his knees.
And up till now, Tajima hadn’t really fought Hanai’s grip on him, but he does
the second Mihashi’s shoulders tremble.
“Hey! Lemme free!”
Hanai releases him, because even if embarrassment rolls off Tajima’s back like
water off a duck, Mihashi’s still a little fragile, and this sort of… Well,
Hanai’s blushing beet-red and he’s not the one who’s just been caught with a
boner and his hand on another boy’s ass.
“Look…you guys aren’t in any trouble, okay?” Hanai rubs at his forehead,
avoiding looking at them as Tajima nudges into Mihashi’s space, almost more
intimate than catching them going at it. “Just don’t do it again, okay?
Don’t…get up to stuff like this here, geez.” Indignance is giving him a little
bit of his cool back.
“We weren’t gonna leave a mess, or anything!” Another brilliant flash of teeth
from Tajima, and Mihashi now giving him an uncertain little smile, too, oddly
heartening. Except that now Hanai’s thinking about what ‘leave a mess’ would
entail.
“That’s not the point, you idiot!” he sputters out.
Tajima’s helping Mihashi rebutton his jersey, starting from the bottom while
Mihashi starts from the top and then joining hands in the middle. Tajima hops
to his feet and brings Mihashi with him, bouncing together over to Hanai.
“Fine, spoilsport! Reeeee-eeeeeen, wanna go to my house and finish?” Mihashi
nods energetically, smile bigger now.
They dart past him, and Hanai turns to call after them, “Hey! Go back and get
your stuff first!”
“Aww man, but we got stiffies! I don’t wanna go all the way, on our bikes--”
“Yuu!” Hanai slaps his hands over his face. “Don't yell crap like that!” Tajima
whips around to pull down an eye and stick out his tongue, then chases Mihashi,
cackling, to grab their bikes and disappear into the night.
Only a few days pass, but Hanai has more than one furious wank session thinking
about catching the two of them there. And perhaps, just perhaps, letting his
mind fill in what might have happened if he hadn’t shown up. It makes it hard
to meet Mihashi’s eyes (not that that’s easy at the best of times), and Tajima
too, though less so when he feels distinctly like he’d just take it as a
compliment. He’d probably high-five me, to be honest. Still, Hanai finds
himself avoiding the two of them.
And yet, he’s extra conscious of them. And of how much time they spend
together. And how much they touch.
Which is why he’s watching surreptitiously from another table during a morning
group study session when Mihashi’s foot creeps over under the table, over to
nudge against the side of Tajima’s. And then raises to graze up the back of his
calf. Tajima lifts his head, glancing over at Mihashi with an affectionate
smile, then turns back to his work; and yet somehow, his foot slowly edges
closer to Mihashi’s chair. Mihashi gives a little happy wriggle, hooking his
foot around Tajima’s leg, stroking up it.
It leaves Hanai with a ticklish feeling, imagining how it must feel, and he
finds himself half-shading his eyes and his lightly flushed cheeks with his
hand. Yet somehow, not taking his gaze off their tangled feet, how they angle
slightly in their seats to press their knees together, how Tajima slowly
reaches across Mihashi’s lap, leaving Hanai with embarrassed heat surging
through him until it becomes apparent he’s just grabbing for his hand. He tugs
it back so their twined fingers rest on Mihashi’s thigh, squeezing a little and
then just resting there, relaxed.
Nishihiro breaks all three of their concentrations by patiently asking Tajima
and Mihashi if they need a break. Mihashi shakes his head vigorously, jerking
his hand out of Tajima’s hold guiltily, but Tajima nods, says, “Yeah!” loud
enough to earn himself a glare from the librarian. “C’mon, Ren!” Tajima gets to
his feet, holding his hand out. “Gotta take a piss!”
Nishihiro nods, smiling with the tiniest hint of fond exasperation; Izumi leans
over from the other end of the table to ask if Tajima’s worried about getting
lost on the way back, which is just met with a cackle as the two of them
scamper past.
They’re not gone long, but longer, much longer than it takes to pee, and
Mihashi’s cheeks are still pink, and god, Hanai doesn’t know whether it’s the
pink of kissing cut short or of satiation, but he finds he can’t concentrate on
his work for the rest of the morning. How does no one else notice?
Still, he tells himself firmly, even if Tajima’s taken-ness might disappoint
him, it’s not any of his business. Especially since so far as he can tell, they
don’t make use of the storage shed again. Not that he checks. Not that he hopes
they’ll be there, or perhaps have gotten into the club room early after
classes, or any number of other scenarios. Not at all.
Maybe not again like that, exactly, but he does catch them in little affections
regularly. Goofy things like sharing a juice box and grinning at each other
over it, Tajima pursing his lips in a kissy face as he sucks on the straw until
Mihashi laughs, curling in towards him and hands edging closer. Small touches,
glances, and maybe it’s just that he’s watching a lot or maybe it’s that there
are a lot of them, Hanai couldn’t say.
And every now and then, Tajima catches him catching them, grinning and giving
him a thumbs-up. And once, oh god, once, just twining his fingers tighter in
Mihashi’s and leaning in to press their lips together. This time, it’s no quick
little cheering smooch, it’s something slow and luxuriant, and he can see the
way their jaws move as they open their mouths into it and Hanai just barely
looks away before Tajima’s eyes open on him again.
After that, it’s like they're doing it on purpose, finding ways to torture him.
Managing to find the perfect alcove to back Mihashi into where Hanai will pass
by, catch them with Tajima’s leg edging between Mihashi’s thighs and their lips
flushed from kissing, Mihashi’s fingers twisted tensely in the loose open front
of Tajima’s button-up, and Tajima with his eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he
nudges his way in for another kiss. Curled together behind a tree not too far
away from the one where he’s trying to carry out an intelligent conversation
with Abe and Suyama over lunch, if those two would just stop kissing like that.
Or at all. And always, always, those warm brown eyes catching on his, crinkled
in a dickish little smile as Tajima slips his square hands up under Mihashi’s
shirt, and always, always Hanai who looks away, wanting to haul his kerchief
off his head and hide his flushed cheeks behind it.
He knows, he fucking knows,and he’s torturing me, the little bastard. What the
hell did I ever do to deserve goddamn Tajima Yuuichirou??
He can’t find it in himself to resent Mihashi. Much. He’s a little jealous, but
then those two’ve always had a connection that left Hanai a little in awe and
with that thread of envy in him, and he knows he’s not alone. And yet at the
same time, there’s something in their bond that, even as it creates this little
bubble of us, also turns them outward, a circle that leaves room for others to
complete it.
And Hanai’s coming to the horrifying realization that he really, really wants
to be the one to do it.
Tajima’s been a frequent player in his fantasies for a long while, and it’s
hard not to incorporate real-life information, now he’s seen some of how he
kisses, how he moves up against another body, the faces he makes. Early on,
Mihashi just became a blurry outline in his mind, a vague human-ness that he
wasn't quite willing to superimpose himself on but didn’t want to call up in
too much detail. But somewhere along the line, Mihashi filled back in, became
himself in all his blushing and strange little hiccupping sounds and all those
little glimpses Hanai’s had of slim stomach and collarbone with the red mark of
Tajima’s lips and thighs trembling as Tajima pushes between them and before he
knows it, he’s envisioning himself in behind Mihashi, his own fingers slipping
down the front of his pants and Tajima leaning around Mihashi to claim Hanai’s
lips, palms hot on their thighs and Hanai comes into his hand harder than he
thinks he’s ever come before or maybe it’s just being slammed with the earth-
shattering realization of just how fucking much he wants this.
He pushes it aside then, because he needs to sleep and it’s a little too much
to process. But it resurfaces again the next day. In the middle of a captain’s
meeting, of course.
And somehow, he finds himself idiotically blurting out, “Hey…can I ask you guys
something?”
Two sets of eyes turn to him, one sympathetically curious, the other neutral
but with a hint of interest. Hanai immediately racks his brain for some way to
backtrack, some other thing to ask. Except he trusts these two, and respects
them, and goddamn it, he needs to talk to someone about this, even if it’s
obliquely.
“D’you think a person can love more than one person?”
Abe folds his arms, frowning. “You mean like parents and stuff? Of course.”
“No, like…”
“You mean in love, right?” Hanai nods, and Sakaeguchi smiles a little,
considering. “I don’t see why not.”
Abe wrinkles his nose slightly. “Isn’t that kind of greedy, though?”
“Greedy!” Sakaeguchi sputters a laugh.
“Yeah. Although really, two people… I mean, would you want to date more than
one? It seems like a lotta work.”
Sakaeguchi gives him an unimpressed sidelong look. “Well, I imagine some people
would manage to be less work than others. And besides,” he glances back at
Hanai, “the others would take care of each other, too, right? So it’d probably
even out, in the end. Oh, presuming that’s…what you were talking about, and
not,” he lowers his voice to a whisper, eyes wide, “cheating.”
Hanai blanches. “No, more the first… I mean, I…hadn’t really thought about it
that much.” He can feel heat rushing to his cheeks. “Just…just an idle
thought.”
“Bullshit. That sort of thing wouldn’t occur to you if you weren’t already in
some sort of weird situation like that.”
“It might!”
“Eh?”
Sakaeguchi’s cheeks are a little pink too. “It might, theoretically, occur to a
person, even if they didn’t necessarily have a second person in mind!”
Abe frowns, then shrugs. “I guess so.”
“Look, can we just…get back to the batting order for the practice games?”
“Sure. You were the one who brought up weird stuff.” Abe may be perfectly happy
to focus back on baseball, but Sakaeguchi gives him a curious look now and then
that Hanai steadfastly ignores.
What he can’t ignore is Tajima’s pink tongue cleaning pear juice off his
fingers and the way Mihashi’s eyes follow the movement, the way Tajima catches
him at it and then grins at him, doing increasingly lewd things until Mihashi’s
fidgety and blushing and breathing out his funny little laugh and Izumi punches
Tajima in the arm and tells him to stop being gross. Hanai’s simultaneously
grateful and wants to punch Izumi himself.
Except this time, this time it’s Mihashi’s eyes that flick to him.
Though there’s nothing of challenge or teasing in them, only curiousity and
then shyness as he looks away, leaning forward to shove his face against
Tajima’s shoulder and mumble something inaudible. Tajima just laughs, squeezes
him in a quick hug, then turns to say something to Izumi. Hanai’s left somehow
resentful that he doesn’t turn to look, look, damn you, don’t just take it for
fucking granted that I’m watching you.
But Tajima doesn’t look, not anymore. Not when Hanai catches them between some
bushes and an outbuilding at lunchtime, Mihashi splayed in Tajima’s lap and
shaking at his shoulder when he notices Hanai, and he hears, he fucking hears
Tajima murmur, “Just watch him,” before curving up to suck at the side of
Mihashi’s neck. And Mihashi, ever obedient, looking over at him, except Hanai’s
torn between meeting those wide hazel eyes and their strange awestruck
expression and watching the way Mihashi’s pulling up the back of Tajima’s
shirt, fingers tight and shaking on the fabric and revealing the knobs of
Tajima’s spine and for all that he’s still short and skinny, how pleasingly
broad it is, how nice it would be to fit his hands either side and feel the way
his muscles tense under his skin as he holds himself up like that. Hanai
swallows, trying to meet Mihashi’s eyes again, except now they’re shut and he
can’t see where Tajima’s other hand is but he can see the tense dents Mihashi’s
leaving in the flesh of Tajima’s back and the way he’s grinding his ass down
into Tajima’s lap and it’s too fucking much and Hanai flees.
Flees all the way to the third-floor bathroom that he knows is likely deserted
at this hour, and he lies to himself about what he’s doing right up until he’s
got the stall door shut behind him and is fumbling his pants undone. He shoves
his face in the crook of his arm, pressed against the cool tiles, and fucks
into his fist.
The darkness makes a beautiful backdrop for thinking about the two of them,
thinking about what they must be doing right now, whether they’re just grinding
against each other until completion or if Tajima’s got Mihashi’s pants undone,
nose-to-nose with him with that game-sharp focus that would make anyone blush
and surely has Mihashi flushed all down his neck and rocking his hips to feel
Tajima’s hardness against his ass and god, had they done that yet? Tajima
curled over Mihashi, tugging his legs up over his shoulders and pressing
forward, bending Mihashi in half so they can kiss, sloppy and wet as Tajima
pounds into him, or Mihashi with his blushes hidden against Tajima’s back, his
cries smothered in his sweaty skin and Tajima probably wouldn’t shut up,
probably encouraging him with all kinds of lewd things and maybe, maybe coming
up on his knees so they’re pressed together and Mihashi’s mouth open wetly on
his nape and leaving room for Hanai, perhaps on his back under them, maybe on
his knees, perhaps on the floor beside a bed, with Tajima’s dick buried in his
mouth and two hands from two boys sliding over his scalp in encouragement, or
shit, himself pinned in the middle and Hanai sinks his teeth into his arm to
keep himself silent as he comes into his shaking fist.
Mizutani asks him later why he’s wearing his jacket inside even though it’s
warm, and wasn’t he wandering around outside without it earlier, what was he
doing it kind of looked like he was looking for something did he find it and
Hanai considers strangling him but it wouldn’t help him any.
If it was just the sex thing, it wouldn’t be so bad. Well, it’d still be pretty
damn bad, but at least that sort of thing feels like it’d fade, mellow, dry up
if left unquenched too long. But no, he has to like both of them, too. Tajima
the obnoxious, Tajima the too loud, Tajima the wind that fills his sails like
no one else ever has. Tajima who holds up a mirror to him that shows all his
failings, yes, but all his strengths, too, and Tajima who’s fun, drags him into
things he never would’ve tried on his own and makes him love them for all that
he protests. And Mihashi, who tries so hard to connect even though they miss
each other so very spectacularly, Mihashi who’s taught him things about himself
and about the kind of person he wants to be, and all those times Mihashi turns
the blinding light of his awe on Hanai… It’s sweet. And addictive as hell. And
the two of them together… They’re just so much sweetness and easiness and Hanai
wants to sink down and lose himself in it like the softest bed, except he knows
damn well it wouldn’t be anywhere near so restful. But he wants it, even if
it’d exhaust him, drive him crazy. Is already driving him nuts.
He makes himself stop looking for them.
It doesn’t help, and anyway, even if he’s not trying to find them, even if he
keeps his head down as much as possible, he still seems to catch sight of more
stuff to fuel all his dirtiest and his most saccharine fantasies.
He considers confronting them about it, but he can’t imagine that conversation
ending with any kind of win for him. And really, if they stopped, would that
even be a win? He knows what a real win would look like, and it just seems so
unimaginable. Even if Tajima seems to practically get off on torturing him like
this…Hanai doesn’t need Nishihiro’s help to figure out that the odds of being
attracted to two people who were both interested in each other and interested
back are pretty much nil, and Hanai’s never been lucky.
Another captain’s meeting, Abe shuffling through some papers on the bench while
Sakaeguchi jogs over to relay something to Momoe. Hanai watches him go, then
turns to examine Abe for a moment.
“D’you think there’s a way to get over crushes?”
Abe looks up with an expression like he’s smelling something foul. “Why the
hell are you asking me? Go ask…I don’t know, Yuu, or someone.”
“I’d…rather not.” Hanai avoids his stare, feeling his cheeks heat up. “You
just…seem so detached. Like you don’t even have to deal with that crap. Don’t
even care.”
Abe arches a brow at him, leaning an elbow on one knee. “Just because I choose
not to so obviously tie myself up in knots over it doesn’t mean I don’t have
feelings, thanks.” Abe’s eyes flick out across the field for half a second.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Mm.”
“Or maybe it’s exactly it. You—”
“Look, the only advice I’ve got for you is decide whether you’re content with
things as they are, and if you’re not, then do something about it.”
Hanai glares at him. “Easy enough for you to say.”
“Yep. Now gimme that practice menu.” Abe makes an imperious grasping motion.
Hanai hands it over, peering at him. “So…that means you do have feelings for
someone, right? And you’re, what, ‘content’ with not doing anything?”
“I never said that. Any of that.” Abe’s cheeks are very faintly pink, and now
he keeps his nose down in the papers. “If I did, I might just be waiting for
the right moment.”
Hanai snorts out a laugh. “What the hell, ‘right moment’. There are no ‘right
moments’.”
“Oh, now you're the expert?" Abe's silent for another beat. "Then I’ll make
one.”
“That’s a little…unsettling, dude. Very romantic, but…”
Abe shrugs off Hanai’s laughter, eyes flicking away from his face again. Hanai
tries to follow his gaze, but gives up; there’s just too much happening on the
field.
Hanai sighs out a breath. “Well, let me give you some advice: don’t wait too
long, or they might not be available by the time you find your ‘right moment’.”
Abe gives him a long, unreadable look, mouth hidden behind his hand, and then
looks back down at the papers. “Fair point.”
It’s Hanai’s turn to consider Abe, perfectly composed apart from the flush
across his cheekbones. Nosy questions linger heavy on his tongue, but he’s
almost certain the only answer he’d get would be a bland stare or perhaps a
snippy direction to mind his own business.
Hanai thinks a lot about what ‘doing something about it’ would look like. But
he’s not as strong of a planner as Abe is, certainly not on the level of
engendering some Situation where he could…ask out? hit on? proposition?—the two
of them. And it’s just always so much easier to get caught up in worrying about
the fallout if it went poorly, or imagining…things if it went well. Frequently.
In graphic detail.
But no surefire way to get through it with his dignity intact comes to him. It
rankles, hurts a guy’s pride to feel like he’s chickening out. He even gets as
far as considering asking Mom for help. Considers it. The second he thinks
about the likelihood of being laughed at for twenty minutes straight and then
having her tell Dad and possibly every other person she knows in the entire
world, he scraps the idea. Tears it up, burns it, and scatters the ashes far
out at sea.
Which is what he considers doing with the stray batting helmet lying in a
corner of the clubroom after practice.
It just seems…too suspicious, and Mihashi and Tajima are conspicuously absent.
Hanai stares it down, sagging with defeat.
Oki side-eyes his exhausted expression, dithers for a second, then plucks up
the helmet. “Hey… I could take it back for you? Or we can just leave it until
the morning…”
“No!” Hanai colours a little at the tight pitch of his voice. “It’s…you’ve got
a long trip home, right? I’ll take care of it.”
“So do you, though…”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll handle it.”
Oki peers over at him for a moment longer, but then just hands the helmet over
with an awkward smile, picks up his bag, and follows the others out.
Hanai stands for a long moment, considering the helmet in his hands. Long
enough for the room to clear completely, though the stink of a dozen-some-odd
sweaty teens lingers. With a resigned sigh, he turns to head back out to the
field.
By the time he gets there, he’s pissed, mind full of cool lines like I don’t
appreciate being your plaything, and simply could you pleasestick to doing it
at home like normal people??Get a car or something. Anywhere that's not
fucking school. He stomps the last few meters to the storage shed, practically
flinging its door up.
He's almost--almost--underwhelmed. If this were in fact some kind of set-up, he
feels like he's entitled to something a little more elaborate than Mihashi with
the fingers of one hand twisted tightly in the chain link of one of the
portable barrierss, down on his knees with his pants down around his spread
thighs and his boxers pulled down enough for Tajima, tight up against his back
and chin hooked over his shoulder, to jack him off as he grinds against
Mihashi's ass, his own pants undone and shoved down his hips, Mihashi's other
hand fisted in them and pulling on him to encourage each luxuriant roll of
Tajima's hips and actually no, no, Hanai decides this is really quite elaborate
enough and anything more ambitious might've killed him.
“Took you long enough! Ren’s almost done.”
Hanai considers throwing the batting helmet at Tajima, but he's not entirely
confident in his aim at present. Or his ability to hold himself back from
throwing it hard enough to kill. “What. The hell. Do you mean.”
Tajima seems more intent on nosing in behind Mihashi’s ear at the moment,
kissing noisily, so it’s up to Mihashi to turn to him, fix him with a light
gaze (interrupted only briefly when Tajima catches his presented earlobe in his
teeth), and say, “B-but Azusa-kun wants…with us, r-right?”
“No, I don't! I'm not...I'm not some kind of pervert! And would you please..."
He means to say ‘stop doing that’, but the words won’t come, and all he can do
is shield his hot cheeks with an inadequate hand.
Mihashi flinches at his voice, but nuzzles back against Tajima’s face. Tajima
leans back, subtly angling their bodies towards Hanai, hand moving slowly now
on Mihashi’s dick. Hanai can’t help peeking through his fingers, mesmerized by
the way Mihashi’s hips tremble subtly then twitch forward at the end of each
stroke, except no, he makes himself drag his eyes back up to Mihashi’s face
because he’s trying to talk again. “But…but…Azusa-kun likes w-watching, so…so…
I-if you like…just…just…watch?”
Hanai drops the batting helmet.
“Great idea! Well, if he’s just gonna watch…” Surprisingly fast, Tajima
manhandles Mihashi around, and, not giving him a chance to get his legs
straightened, bends him back on the packed earth of the shed floor. Mihashi’s
eyes focus again on Hanai’s face for a moment before he squeezes his eyes shut
as Tajima licks a long line up the underside of his dick.
And shit, there’s no way in which Tajima’s not just putting on a show, pausing
to grin up at Hanai like that and then laving around the head of Mihashi’s
dick, pulling back when Mihashi shifts, tilting his hips up after that wet
heat. There’s a shiny line of spit connecting them and it’s absolutely
disgusting and also leaving Hanai weak-kneed and hard as hell. And then there’s
Mihashi, too, wriggling around to finally straighten his legs and sliding one
between Tajima’s knees (that he immediately grinds down against), and his eyes
trailing down (up?) Hanai’s body to his crotch, and Mihashi whimpers, he
fucking whimpers while looking at Hanai’s hard-on and Tajima giggles and bends
to suck in his dick and it’s too much, way too fucking much, and Hanai’s
dropping to his knees before he’s totally conscious of the decision.
This is not quite how he envisioned his First Real Kiss, upside-down with hard
earth under his knees and one elbow, the smell of sweat and leather and metal
and grass still thick in the air, and Tajima fucking Yuuichirou gasping out
“Whoaaaaaa!” like he’s at a goddamn fireworks show. And at first, Mihashi seems
too startled to do much more than breath out a confused noise against his lips
and it’s messy and not much of anything but then with a frantic little noise,
Mihashi reaches up to cling at the front of his t-shirt and tilts his head and
starts actually kissing back and whatever Hanai had imagined his first kiss
being like, he’s pretty sure this is better.
“I see why ya liked watchin’ us! It’s real hot,” Tajima crows it out like it’s
some kind of triumph on his part.
Hanai reluctantly breaks the kiss to glower at him. “Would you be quiet. For
like five seconds.”
“Nope! Suck on his lip; he likes it.”
Mihashi squeaks out something Hanai assumes is embarrassed agreement, and he
glances down at him, stroking his thumb over Mihashi’s cheek with something
akin to wonder. Then frowns slightly. “Don’t talk about your…Ren like he’s some
pet.” Using given names has long since lost its awkwardness, but saying it
here... It's heady and embarrassing, all at once.
He ignores Tajima's direction for as long as he can, but Mihashi’s looking up
at him with such wide, hungry eyes, and his lips parted and wet and tugging on
Hanai’s shirt emphatically and he’s curious.Enough to mostly ignore Tajima
watching with bated breath and one hand stroking absently up Mihashi’s side
under his shirt (except that if he’s honest, it’s pretty hot to be watched like
this). Hanai dips down, just taking Mihashi’s lower lip between his own at
first, listening to the light anticipatory noise he hums out, then sucks on it.
It’s kind of a weird sensation, a fascinating springy yield to the flesh, and
he opens his eyes just in time to see that the slight movement he feels is
Mihashi’s hips trembling up, Tajima giggling and curving a teasing palm against
his dick for half a second. Hanai murmurs out a pleased noise of his own,
pressing his lips to Mihashi’s in a gentler kiss, then tips his head to suck
his lip back in, and when he does, Mihashi takes his lip in his mouth, too, wet
and sloppy and lovely and Hanai can feel the vibration of Mihashi’s voice and
he can’t really suck like this so instead he pinches his lip between his teeth.
Mihashi exhales a frantic little noise, and Hanai releases him, jerks back with
a harsh pant.
“No, dummy. That’s a good noise.” Fingers slide over the back of his head, down
to stroke over his nape, comforting, then insistently pushing him down.
“It! It was! Good,” Mihashi confirms, and there’s so much eagerness in his
voice that Hanai wants very badly to satisfy, except that he also has other
things he wants to try. He resists the fingers urging him down, swaying forward
to capture grinning lips in a quick kiss that also starts awful but then turns
amazing and perhaps that’s just how kisses are and Tajima laughs through his
nose but also cups Hanai’s cheek in a way that’s just really nice and Mihashi
cups his dick in a way that has Hanai choking out a strangled noise. Mihashi
snatches his hand back with a squeak.
“Good noise! That was a good noise, Ren. I was just…startled.” He peers down at
Mihashi, whose tentative smile is just barely visible in the shadow of his body
and holy, my dick is like right there, he could just… Hanai’s breath punches
out of him, and against his will, his hips jerk forwards tightly. Mihashi eyes
his dick, seeming to come to a similar conclusion, if his weird pervy snicker
is anything to go by. And the next thing Hanai knows, he’s reaching up, fingers
pinching his zipper and it’s teasing, pulling the fabric of his pants against
his hard-on and then abruptly, he’s throwing himself back into an awkward half-
crouch, pulling out of their hands.
“Huh?”
“A...zusa…kun…?”
He stares from one set of wide eyes to the other. “What…what is this?”
“What’s what?”
“What…” It feels like a ridiculous thing to ask of two guys who together
probably barely outweigh him. “What are you planning to do with me??”
Tajima stares back at him for a few more seconds before bursting out laughing.
But Mihashi looks between them with an uncertain little dip of a smile and a
worried frown, and then reaches out, hesitating a second before clumsily
patting at Hanai’s knee. He’s avoiding Hanai’s gaze, now, eyes lighting briefly
on Tajima and then skipping around the shed. “Azusa-kun…is… This...feels bad??”
Hanai stares down at him in consternation, then grabs his hand away from his
knee, squeezing it hard. “I don’t feel bad, I just…I want… I don’t want,” he
starts to mutter because it doesn’t sound nearly as good now as it had in his
head, “to be your plaything.”
“Whoaaaaa, Hanai! Layin' down the law!”
“What? Sh…shut up!” To his great annoyance, he can feel his cheeks heat up, his
only consolation that probably neither of them can tell in this light. He
releases Mihashi’s hand, resisting the urge to cross his arms or cover his
face.
“Then again…” Tajima comes forwards on his hands, lowering himself on top of
Mihashi with a toothy grin, not taking his eyes off Hanai. “You sure?”
Mihashi plucks at Tajima’s jersey. “Yuu, that’s…it’s kind of…ouchy o-on my…”
“Ah, sorry!” Tajima hops up on his toes, butt in the air, grin a bit less feral
as he tips his head down to rub his nose against Mihashi’s, who smiles back.
It’s…offensively cute.
“That.”
“Eh?”
“If…if I were gonna get…involved, I’d want that, too.”
“Getting your dick squashed?” Tajima blinks up at him innocently, and it’s
impossible to tell whether he’s full of it or not.
“No…I’d wanna, like,” Hanai’s starting to mumble again, “date and stuff.”
Tajima looks at him a moment longer, and now Mihashi’s staring up at him too,
and Hanai kind of wishes he’d just left the damn batting helmet in the clubroom
and gone home.
“Well, not like we really go out on dates and stuff, but—”
“I want! Azusa! To be m…our? Boyfriend!”
Both Hanai and Tajima stare down at Mihashi for a second. And then Tajima looks
back up with another huge grin. “Yeah! Me too.” He dips to nuzzle against
Mihashi again and smooch him, then pushes himself up, kneeling over Mihashi’s
chest and reaching out for Hanai. "That's all you meant?"
"Yeah." All? Kind of a big all.
Tajima’s hands are powerful in their grip on his shoulders, and it sends a
weird jolt of arousal through him even as it’s steadying. And then Tajima’s
leaning in with an easy smile and it kind of tickles when he rubs his nose
alongside Hanai’s but it also feels great, makes him feel flushed down to the
tips of his toes in the best way. And then Tajima kisses him, soft and nice and
full of all the affection he’s been craving and perhaps a bit more what he’d
imagined his first kiss being like. Except then Tajima lurches to the side and
there’s some scrambling, and then Mihashi’s up on his knees beside him and
kissing Hanai’s cheek. It’s too much, too exactly what he was hoping for,
dreaming of, and Hanai realizes with a rush that leaves him falling back on his
ass that he feels lucky.
“A-Azusa-kun is—”
“I’m fine!”
“Maybe he’s woozy ‘cause he’s got a boner!”
“I’m not—” Hanai reaches for Tajima, intending to give him a noogie, pinch him,
throttle him a little, something, except that somewhere along the way, it turns
into him grabbing him in a rough hug, infinitely more embarrassing than
anything else that’s happened tonight. Especially during that instant when
Tajima’s just kneeling there without reacting at all.
But then he makes a noise like he’s smiling and squeezes Hanai tight with his
wiry arms, only releasing him to tug Mihashi closer, and Hanai loosens his grip
to admit him, too.
Sometimes it really sucks being the tallest, when he’d really, really like to
hide his face against someone’s shoulder. He settles for burying his face in
Mihashi’s hair, which works up until Mihashi hums a happy little noise and tips
his head to kiss Hanai’s cheek, his jaw, sweet and light and then another,
longer, slightly sucking, and now Hanai would really like to hide, except that
there are two very cute young men dotting kisses on his throat and down,
stretching the collar of his shirt to drag lips over the rise of his collarbone
and then leaning back to kiss each other. It’s so much better, being close for
this and feeling like he’s allowed to watch, like when Tajima opens his eyes,
all that cocksure challenge there in them no matter the low light, Hanai
doesn’t need to look away. Instead, he grins back, threads his fingers through
Tajima’s short hair and leans in for a proper kiss of his own.
This time, when he feels a hand cup his dick, he’s got no reservations about
pressing into it. He can’t tell whose it is and he doesn’t care and anyway,
then he’s pretty certain there’s two hands, working together clumsily to unzip
his jeans, and with the press of the heavy fabric gone, Hanai gasps with relief
against the lips he’s kissing. Mihashi’s now. He reaches down, fitting one hand
to the curve of Mihashi’s ass and shoving the other into Tajima’s pants to do
the same to him, feeling the different shape of them and the way Mihashi pushes
back into his touch while Tajima just chuckles and focuses on getting his hand
into Hanai’s pants. He hums appreciatively, lips smearing against Hanai’s neck
and up to kiss just behind the corner of his jaw.
And then half-yelling, right in his fucking ear, “Hey! I think Azusa’s bigger’n
either of us.”
“T-Tajima…!” Hanai shoves his face away, shaky with arousal and embarrassment
and no small amount of ego.
“R-really? I want to…!” Before he can stop him, Mihashi’s reaching for the open
front of Hanai’s pants.
“Well, I dunno if he’s, like, big big, and like I don't think it really counts
'cause you're just bigger, but…”
"Gee, thanks."
“O…oh…” Mihashi jolts a little when his hand curls on Hanai’s dick. As if it
would feel any different from any other.
Hanai slaps both hands over his face, groaning, “You two…”
He can’t finish the thought because Mihashi’s still got his hand on his dick,
stroking him slowly through the fabric and when Hanai peeks through his
fingers, he’s got such a happy curious expression, eyes flicking up to meet
Hanai’s in wordless question. Hanai nods slowly, and Mihashi smiles back shyly,
then leans in with his head tipped up, and, Hanai realises with a weird twist
of pleasure, waiting for a kiss. He sighs out a breath as he meets Mihashi's
lips, feeling his shaky hands twitch the hem of his shirt out of the way with a
shiver. Mihashi's fingers hook in the waistband of his boxers, and then there’s
more hands, hauling his shirt higher and then just running more confident
fingers over Hanai’s stomach and up to his chest, shoving his shirt up enough
that Tajima can lean in to swipe a tongue over his nipple and Hanai’s not
entirely sure he likes it but it’s still hot as hell and he is very sure he
likes the feel of Mihashi’s rough right hand on the bare skin of his dick.
Hanai breaks the kiss with a low noise, mouth falling open on quick breaths as
he tips his head forward to watch, past Tajima enthusiastically sucking what
will surely be an embarrassing red welt on his pec tomorrow, to watch his dick
slipping through the loose ring of Mihashi’s fingers. And Mihashi’s own cock,
close by and still hard, jutting up from above the waistband of his underwear.
Hanai reaches for it, and has to stop himself from starting a little, partly
because the second he touches him, Mihashi cries out and presses his face into
his shoulder, his own fingers tightening on the base of Hanai’s dick. Tajima
giggles at them, turning his head to kiss Mihashi’s cheek. It seems so natural
to switch hands, wrap his arm around Mihashi’s waist and hug him closer and
kiss his hair and Tajima’s forehead and then Mihashi’s again and then his lips
when he tips his head up with a needy noise. Tajima falls away from them,
sitting back on his heels with a contented breath. Hanai hears the clink of his
belt as he wriggles the rest of the way out of his pants, kicking off his
shoes, but damned if he can be bothered to look, not with Mihashi teasing a
tentative flicker of tongue against his lips and stroking his dick with a
deliciously unsteady rhythm, and the hot feel of Mihashi’s skin against Hanai’s
palm, the slight stickiness as he cups his hand against the tip, just letting
Mihashi thrust against it for a moment before he grips him again. And then
Mihashi breaks the kiss, nuzzling into the curve of Hanai’s neck with a frantic
noise, and he looks over, utterly unsurprised to find Tajima with his hand on
his dick and cheeky grin in place.
“Nah, kiss more! That was good!”
Hanai shoots him a glare, then turns to kiss Mihashi’s temple. “You don’t have
to tell me. Ren…?” Less a request than a soft verbal stroke, with the quiet
frantic noises the blond is making into his shirt. Realisation hits him, then,
awe hot on its heels, and also a hot curiousity that has him setting his hands
on Mihashi’s hips, urging him up despite his distressed cry. But Mihashi
stumbles to his feet easily enough, and the doorframe is right there and it’s
hardly a pleasant thing to lean against but damn if Mihashi doesn’t look hot,
half his body kissed with distant lamplight, reaching a hand behind him for
support and twisting his other in the front of his jersey, somehow both
slouching and tensely arched and his pants still hanging around his knees in a
way that’s a little ridiculous but somehow all the more appealing for it, and
all while looking down at Hanai with adoration like he hasn’t got a fucking
clue how gorgeous he looks.
“Holy crap…”
Hanai stops midway through sliding closer to Mihashi on hands and knees to
shoot Tajima an exasperated look. “Could you…can’t you think of something a
little more appealing to say?”
“Like what?” There’s honest curiousity in Tajima’s voice.
“Pretty much anything,” Hanai grumbles, coming up on slightly spread knees in
front of Mihashi, hands sliding up the front of his thighs, up to frame the
angles of his hips. Mihashi whines out his want, hips twitching against Hanai’s
light hold and sending heat rushing down his spine.
“Aaaaaanything?” Hanai has several regrets. “Like…watermelon! Algebra?
Strictly! Do—”
“Please stop.”
“Hey, you even done this before? Want any poin—”
“Yuu, so help me, if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna shove a baseball in your
mouth. And not one of the clean ones.”
Tajima just cackles in response, almost covering up the sound of Mihashi
giggling too, much less grating, fist shoved against his mouth. And somehow,
despite himself, Hanai can’t help but huff out an exasperated laugh of his own.
And then nearly squeaks when there’s abruptly a body pressed up against his
own, a mouth on his nape, murmuring out, “Whatever you say, captain,” in a way
that makes up for all his idiocy, that leaves Hanai involuntarily arching back
into Tajima with a rough pant. Tajima tugs on his pants, and Hanai’s all too
happy to help shove them down, though he doesn’t quite put it together in his
mind until Tajima’s adjusting his dick to lie up against the cleft of his ass.
Abruptly, the enormity of actually doing this stuff hits him, and Hanai’s left
shoving his face against Mihashi’s hip, and he honestly couldn’t say how much
of it’s incoherent arousal and how much being overwhelmed and he feels
ridiculous and stupid and Tajima’s making a questioning noise because the
little shit always has to be so damn perceptive, read some little cue in the
set of Hanai’s shoulders or the slight tremor of his stomach as Tajima slips
his arms around him.
Tajima hugs him tight. Mihashi dithers for a moment, then drops down into his
space. All Hanai can think is this is so uncool. But apparently being uncool
nets him soft kisses to the cheek and nape and back of his head and two sets of
arms wrapped around him, and Tajima mercifully fucking silent and still.
Except then he rubs his cheek against Hanai’s shoulder, and says, almost sulky,
“I wanted this to be fun.”
Hanai pulls a face. “How old are y—”
Tajima smushes his face against him, arms tight bands across his chest. “Not
what I meant.”
Mihashi shifts, peering over Hanai’s shoulder and then up into his face.
Hanai sighs, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you think I’m… It is fun.” A thought
strikes him, and he makes himself meet Mihashi’s concerned gaze. “Hey, what
about you guys’ first time? Weren't you nervous?”
Mihashi’s eyes widen, his mouth opening and closing. “Not really... A-
accident!”
Tajima raises his head. “Accident? Yeah, I guess, at first…” He snickers. “We
didn’t even get this far,” he skims a hand over Hanai’s bare hip, leaving
goosebumps in its wake, “and Ren spooged after like a couple minutes!”
“Please…please never call it that again…”
“Did n-not!”
“Did too! I didn’t care, it was real hot!” Mihashi squawks and hides his face
against Hanai’s chest. “And hey, not like I took much longer! But that was
okay, ‘cause then we just did it again.”
Hanai pats Mihashi’s head absently, staring unseeing at a bucket. “Again…”
Somehow, the idea is both intensely arousing and intimidating.
“Yeah! Hey, I bet with three of us, we could get like a relay going,
practically, and—” Hanai wrenches around, grappling Tajima in an incredibly
awkward headlock. “HEY!”
“Baseball. In your mouth.”
“Whoa, you some kinda pervert?”
With a disgusted noise, Hanai releases him, but before he can turn back, Tajima
pulls him down for a smooch, laughing. And he hates it, because he can’t resist
it, any of it, not with all his blustering and irritation, can’t stop the dazed
laughter escaping his own mouth. Tajima breaks the kiss, but lingers where
their lips brush with each breath, then cups his jaw tensely before finally
releasing him.
“Feelin' better?”
Hanai stays awkwardly twisted long enough to press one last kiss to Tajima’s
hair, already damp with sweat. “Yeah, think so.”
“Good.” Tajima swats his butt. “Now, go blow my boyfriend!”
“Taji—” Hanai inhales deeply, closing his eyes.
There’s the sound of Mihashi stumbling to his feet again. He’s been very
patient… I’d be about ready to punch someone, stopping and starting like that
so many times… And yes, when he opens his eyes, Mihashi’s just blinking down at
him with his weird v smile and plenty of eagerness, for sure, but no
impatience. Not something he can say for Tajima, who’s presently leaning all
his weight on Hanai with his arms draped over his shoulders. He reaches
Mihashi’s hips, pinching at them and making him wriggle and laugh.
“Yuu…!”
“I’m done! Couldn’t resist.” Tajima settles back, breath hot against Hanai’s
shoulder and hands trailing down his chest. His dick slides under, pushing
between Hanai’s thighs, and he’s left inhaling a shuddering breath, hips
stuttering back.
When he grabs Mihashi’s hips, it’s as much to have something to hang onto as
anything. He leans in, lips close enough to feel the heat and that electrical
sensation of another’s skin, then looks up. “Ren…how do you… Uh, what do you
like?”
Mihashi blinks at him for a few seconds before breathing out an
incomprehensible noise, covering his face. Which is perhaps good, considering
the unimpressed face Hanai’s making.
But a voice comes, lips brushing just above his collar. “You’ve seen porn,
right? Like that. Use your hands, and keep your teeth back. Trust me, it’s not
super hard.” Tajima reaches out to drag a finger up the underside of Mihashi’s
dick, making him squeak and twitch to follow the contact. “Hehehe, not like Re-
en!”
Hanai decides to ignore him, just nodding and shifting one hand to curl around
Mihashi’s dick. Mihashi grips the edge of the door behind him, gasping, and
then Tajima’s hand wraps around Hanai’s dick and everything feels just a little
bit less daunting and a bit more mind-numbingly good. He strokes Mihashi’s dick
once, light, then holds him steady.
He’s seized with sudden embarrassing curiousity and lets his mouth fall open,
tongue slicking up the slit of Mihashi’s cock. Mihashi smothers a cry in the
angle of his arm, and Hanai falls back with a heavy breath, covering his mouth.
It tastes…fairly disgusting, but it’s also really hot, and it’s only a second
before he’s ready for more.
He braces his hand back on Mihashi’s hip and opens his mouth enough to take in
the head, closing his lips as he slides down the shaft. His own abrupt pant is
echoed by Tajima behind him, the other boy’s hips snapping crisply forward
against Hanai’s ass, hard-on sliding against his skin, and his hand starting to
work Hanai’s dick with short, steady strokes. And Tajima’s right, it’s not that
difficult. Just a matter of keeping his mouth loose as he bobs his head,
pulling back briefly to lick his lips spitty and then sucking Mihashi back in.
Not entirely easy, either; his jaw is already protesting, but damn, if it isn’t
worth it for the frantic noises Mihashi’s trying to bite back, for Tajima’s
appreciative groans, for the way Mihashi’s hips hitch forwards to follow his
mouth and his hand dropping to fist in Hanai’s shirt.
Hanai looks up at him, then pulls back. “Ren…you wanna…?” Mouth hanging open,
he tugs on Mihashi’s hips to illustrate, hoping he’s not going to have to ask
outright ‘hey, do you wanna fuck my mouth?’. Mihashi sniffs in a startled
breath, eyes wide on his face, then does one of his ridiculous overexcited
nods, and Hanai smiles back, feeling nervous arousal twist up through his
stomach and chest.
“Whoa, Azusa, goin’ for th—hey!” Without turning, Hanai reaches back and
pinches Tajima.
He can only presume he’s saved from retaliation because Tajima is similarly
arrested by Mihashi shuffling half a step forward, now with both hands curled
lightly on Hanai's shoulders.
“That’s right.” Feeling Mihashi lean his slight weight into him is unexpectedly
intoxicating. “I got you.” He reaches up to take hold of Mihashi’s dick
lightly, licking his lips again and then parting them invitingly. Tajima
presses his face against his shoulder, making it obvious when he tips his head
up to watch, his hand slowing on Hanai’s cock. And then Mihashi, trembling a
little as he looks down at them, and Hanai almost expects him to apologise as
he rocks his hips forward, but no, he just tips his head down with an urgent
noise when the tip of his dick presses stickily against Hanai’s lips, pushing
between them.
Mihashi picks up rhythm quickly, his fingers biting into Hanai’s shoulders.
It’s too deep, making his eyes water already, but he has a feeling he won’t
have to worry about it for long. And somehow, despite the soreness in his jaw
and the unpleasantness and the friction that’s still there even with spit
flooding his mouth and the sheer fucking mortification of having someone do
this to him, he doesn’t think he’d ask Mihashi to stop, slow down, even if he
could. Even with Tajima’s ridiculous oohing and ahhing behind him, because
silly as it is, it’s genuine, and the way Tajima’s thrusting against his skin
is burning Hanai up until he’s moaning around the cock in his mouth, cheeks
flaming hot and all down his neck and clinging to Mihashi’s hips for support
and to feel the tense and pull of his muscles.
Mihashi cries out, leaning into him heavier and then one hand tugging
frantically on his shirt. Hanai looks up at him through watery eyes, fascinated
as Mihashi pants and squinches up his face in a way that should be unappealing
but is just really, really hot. Mihashi opens his eyes, gaze unfocused for a
second and then locking on Hanai’s face. “A…A…Azu...sa...” He grits his teeth
on an abrupt noise, eyes squeezing shut.
Hanai flinches at the burst of liquid that hits his tongue, but still drops a
hand to squeeze around Tajima’s on his own dick, gasping in heavy breaths
through his nose. Mihashi just trembles, pushing his dick against Hanai’s
tongue and hauling on his shirt, and then with a gasp, pulls out, collapsing in
front of him.
Hanai reaches for him but before he can do more than cup his hands around
Mihashi’s arms, Tajima’s yanking on his shoulder, jerking him back, and kissing
him deeply. Hanai’s startled enough that it takes him half a beat to be
incredibly grossed out by the tongue swiping over his own.
“Yuu…! What the hell??”
Tajima just snickers, pressing the back of his hand to his lips, then grabs
Mihashi’s shirt, smiling impishly as he hauls on him. Hanai watches with
horrified fascination as they stop, faces almost touching, some silent exchange
flitting between them before they kiss. Sloppy, with lots of tongue, and Hanai
had not previously imagined he could be both this turned on and this revolted
at the same time. They break apart, laughing again, Mihashi covering his lips
with fingertips, eyes flicking over to Hanai.
Hanai shoves his hand against the side of Mihashi’s face. “Don’t. You. Dare.”
Mihashi just giggles, turns his head and presses a quick kiss to Hanai’s palm;
he snatches his hand back.
But then Mihashi’s crowding close to him, pressing their foreheads together,
and not trying to do…things to him, just nudging against him with a happy
noise. “But…Azusa-kun…th-thank you…”
“Ah? Er, you’re…welcome?” He gives in, eyes slipping shut as he brushes his
lips over Mihashi’s.
Tajima kind of ruins the moment by snickering at them, then pulls on his
sleeve. “Me! I want smooches too!”
“Very attractive. You already—” Insistent hands pull him over, eager lips cover
his own, and a callused hand wraps around his dick, and Hanai has no real
protest in him anyway, only want. Enough that he goes over perfectly easy when
Tajima pushes on his shoulder, breaking the kiss and swinging a leg over
Hanai’s hips. Hanai’s eyes pop wide, then flutter shut when Tajima bends
forward to capture his mouth again, lips open and soft and lovely and he shifts
back in Hanai’s lap until his ass nudges against his dick. Hanai breaks the
kiss with a gasped curse, grabbing Tajima’s arms. Is he…?
Tajima laughs, sitting up, bathed in the dim yellow light and grinning loosely.
“Relax. Not doin’ anything crazy. Just skin-on-skin.” Hanai nods, then lets his
head tip back against the ground as Tajima slowly rolls his hips back. “Funny,
you weren’t freaked out when it was me grinding against your butt.”
Hanai covers his face with both hands. “Can we…not minutely examine my
reactions to this stuff at present? Or ever?” He just wishes Tajima would hush
already, because it feels ridiculously good, rocking his hips up and letting
his cock slide against the cleft of Tajima’s ass, and now Mihashi’s slowly
slipping down beside him, pressing against Hanai’s side and kissing the back of
his hand with soft happy noises.
“Naw, it’s interesting.” Still moving his hips, Tajima sets his hands on
Hanai’s chest, leaning forward. “What, so you’d rather me fuck you?”
“No—I don’t know! Stop…stop…”
“Or could be Ren, I guess! But you’d rather be alllll stretched open on
someone’s dick?”
“Oh my god, Tajima—”
Tajima shifts his weight to one hand, and when Hanai peeks through his fingers,
he’s jacking off with quick, efficient strokes, eyes intent on whatever little
he can see of Hanai’s own face. Tajima quirks an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna
stick your biiiiiiiig juicy cock in my butt?”
“Could you not.” If it were somehow possible to cover his burning face more,
Hanai would do it.
“Or—well, with three of us, you could do both! You wanna be sandwiched between
us? You want that, A. Zu. Sa?” Tajima leans hard on his hand, then shifts back,
shoving Hanai’s shirt up, heel of his hand skidding over his skin. “I’d like
that. Fuck you while you got Ren pinned under you, or,” he slows the movement
of his hips, coming up off Hanai’s lap entirely as he rubs his ass back up the
length of his dick, “have you split me open with Ren pounding you. Hah, not
like I’d be able to see his scrawny butt around you!” Hanai pulls a sour face
at the roof of the shed. Tajima leans forward, pulling on Hanai’s wrist, his
other hand smacking into Hanai’s taut-pulled stomach with each stroke. “I wanna
do lots of stuff with you, Azusa, you’n’Ren both. I thought about it lots. And
I know Ren has, too.”
Tajima finally releases him from the searing pin of his stare, looking over at
Mihashi with a grin, and then Mihashi, perhaps feeling a bit left out, leaning
in with a needy gasp of sound to kiss him. Tajima’s fingers flex on Hanai’s
wrist and he huffs out urgent, shaky breaths, hips rocking back with short,
sharp movements. He breaks the kiss, looking at Mihashi with a hot, hazy
expression, then kisses him again quick before looking back at Hanai, who’s
made the mistake of letting his hands be pulled down and is caught looking back
into those intent brown eyes.
“I bet you been thinking about it, too, huh? I bet—”
“Holy fuck…” His voice cracks.
“…think about it at night pumpin’ your dick in your fist. Or…” Tajima bites his
lip, eyes sparkling in a way that’s terrifying and also leaving Hanai with
irresistible heat pooling in his crotch. “Betcha done it after you caught us!
Right there at school. Maybe in the club room! Or…” he glances at Mihashi,
“nurse’s room! Or nah, I bet you…in the bathroom!” Hanai has the horrifying
feeling that the truth of it will show somehow on his face, but it doesn’t make
him fuck against Tajima’s skin any less enthusiastically. “Hey! We could both
put it in your ass! Oh man, how’d you like that, Azusa? Two dicks rammin’ into
you, and—”
Hanai shoves himself up, catching Tajima in a rough kiss as his hips jerk up
over and over, spurting come on Tajima’s and his own skin and oh shit, my
jeans,too, probably, but he’s just all blank white heat and pleasure and Tajima
throwing himself back and stroking his dick fast and hard, face squinched up
tight, and then, with a stuttered inhale, coming all over Hanai’s stomach, hot
strings across his skin and Hanai breathes out a lost noise as his hips curve
up with aftershocks.
It takes him a moment before he can open his eyes, longer before he can focus
clearly on Tajima above him, both of them still panting hard. Hanai glances
over at Mihashi, who’s biting his lip and sweeping wide eyes over their bodies,
shoulders rising and falling rapidly in a way that makes Hanai think about
words like again and shiver deliciously.
“Whoa, you look real hot like that!”
If I could just get Tajima to fucking shut up.
“Th-that was! The whole…!H-hot!!”
“Yeah? Did I look cool?”
Hanai slaps his hand across his eyes, laughing. Not without catching Mihashi’s
excited nod. “Yeah! Both! L-looked...”
“Awesome!” Tajima leans forward, shaking Hanai’s wrist. “Hey, you got a proper
mirror in your room? I wanna see next time!”
“No, and also there is no way in hell I am fucking two dudes in that tiny
apartment.”
“Aww!” When he looks, Tajima’s got his arms crossed over his chest. He sulks
for half a second, then brightens. “Not even if we were real quiet?”
“You can be quiet?”
Mihashi says, “No,” with enough chagrin that Hanai has a feeling there’s been
at least one incredibly awkward parental conversation on the subject.
Tajima tips his head back, whining, “I wanna have sex at Azusa’s house!”
“Don't yell that!”
“I wasn’t yelling! You’re the one yelling!”
“This is exactly why that's not happening!”
“Fiiiiiiiiiine!” Tajima pointedly turns toward Mihashi. “So, Ren? We can’t have
sex at Azusa’s house because he’s gonna yell too much.”
Hanai makes a disgusted noise, shoving Tajima’s shoulder roughly; Tajima just
cackles and tugs Mihashi in for a kiss, both smiling sweetly in a way that
makes something warm and wonderful curl in Hanai’s stomach. And then Tajima
turns towards him and sighs out a loud breath and starts to flop forward.
“Yuu!” Hanai gets his hands under his shoulders. “Are you just trying to be
gross??”
“What's your problem?” Tajima laughs, bearing down against his hands. “Hey,
this is fun! Can ya lift me, ya think?”
“Yuu…” Hanai gives him a shove, huffing out an exasperated noise, then sits,
holding his shirt up. “Please tell me you guys have something to clean up
with.”
“Nope!”
“I have…no.”
Tajima leans in, waggling his eyebrows. “You could always come to my house, get
cleaned up…”
Hanai looks back at him with a stricken expression. Then sighs, bowing his
head. “…Sure.”
Tajima cheers. Mihashi hugs him.
Hanai is pretty sure he’s going to die within the week.
End Notes
     *tries not to write hanai with a budding embarrassment kink*
     *fails miserably*
     *is not in the least bit sorry*
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