Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6217057.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      青春×機関銃_|_Aoharu_x_Kikanjuu_|_Aoharu_x_Machinegun
  Relationship:
      Matsuoka_Masamune/Tachibana_Hotaru/Yukimura_Tooru
  Character:
      Tachibana_Hotaru, Yukimura_Tooru, Matsuoka_Masamune
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Accidental_Voyeurism, Realization_of_Feelings,
      Relationship_Discussions, Oral_Sex, Vaginal_Sex, Blow_Jobs, Use_of
      Protection, Love_Confessions, First_Time, Masturbation, Enthusiastic
      Consent, Explicit_Consent, Demisexuality
  Series:
      Part 1 of The_Nights_Were_Mainly_Made_For_Saying_Things_You_Can't_Say
      Tomorrow
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-03-11 Completed: 2016-03-15 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 21370
****** Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep? ******
by TwiExMachina
Summary
     Hotaru has dreams about Matsuoka and Yukimura. They’re totally
     platonic. Up until they’re not, and Hotaru ends up wondering what
     they’d all be like together. Even that totally wouldn’t happen.
     Because they’re not dating her.
     Y’know. Yet.
Notes
     Hahahaha I've been writing this since the third episode. It was
     supposed to be a oneshot but everyone kept talking because discussion
     of consent is important when you got a young person and I like
     foreplay. So I split it in half because it's 50 pages and that's a
     bit much. The first chapter's mostly just establishing with some fun
     stuff, and the second chapter will be mostly smut.
     Title from Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Her Dreams *****
Hotaru was Shinto and not Catholic, but bless me father for I have sinned and
dreamed inappropriate dreams about my neighbors and teammates. They started out
simple and innocent, dreams of survival games, not specifically about the
fighting and the adrenaline, but the warmth and smiles and laughter and voices
of Matsuoka and Yukimura, their comforting presence calming her anxiety before
survival games and their excited congratulations after a match. And that was
fine. She even told them the first couple of times and Matsuoka grinned and
laughed and joked like it was the best thing in the world and even tried to hug
her and Yukimura just smiled at her at a distance.
Then it stopped being about survival games altogether. The dreams changed from
being about the three of them together to just her and one of them. Hotaru’s
dreams about Matsuoka had a lot of him being cute in his weird, giving guns a
very convincing woman’s voice kind of way, about him making her laugh and curl
up in a ball. Yukimura was being nice to her, like when he knelt down and
welcomed her back to the life of survival games while she was flailing at her
own criminal activity, all soft voice and softer touches.
It was very out of character for both of them.
But it was efficient at throwing her off her traditional ways of addressing
them. The dreams didn’t fade. Mostly because every time it happened she just
sat awake, replaying the dream, maybe modifying a bit to make it feel warmer.
It felt real, at times.
And she acted on it, saying things that would make Matsuoka get excited and
flushed or to get Yukimura to smile at her. But they weren’t the people in her
dreams. “Are you sick, Tachibana?” Yukimura asked one time, reaching his
fingers out to touch her forehead.
She blushed and shoved his hand away. “I’m fine!”
“You’re acting weird.”
“I just asked if you had a good breakfast!”
“Weird…”
“Is being considerate of your health weird?”
Matsuoka came up behind Yukimura. “What’s going on here?”
“I’m just being considerate of Yukimura’s health,” Hotaru muttered, crossing
her arms over her chest.
Matsuoka looked over at Yukimura. “Why? Haven’t you been eating?”
Yukimura pulled up his scarf over his mouth. “I’m fine. Tachibana’s the one
with a fever.”
“I do not have a fever!” Hotaru yelled.
“Your face is red,” Matsuoka said, leaning over Yukimura’s shoulder.
“I’m fine!” Hotaru insisted.
She was not fine. She was not fine at all. The dreams persisted, the need
persisted. And then it got worse. Yukimura started touching her in those
dreams. His thin fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her to him. He ran
his fingernail under her eye and watched her blink. He sat down shoulder-to-
shoulder and showed her the draft for his manga. He was always close and she
could see the dark, soft spots under his eyes. She hadn’t seen them before, but
it certainly was logical that he’d have a bit of them. He was a manga artist
with ever-constant deadlines, and he always seemed to be half in a dream.
She ended up seeing them in real life while he swapped out his glasses for his
protective lenses. She looked over at him, saw the darkness bruising his skin.
Seeing them for real, in the crispness of reality, shocked her. She stomped
over to him, stood under him, and stared. Yukimura blinked and put the glasses
on, the thick frames hiding his black eyes. “Eh? Tachibana?”
“How many hours of sleep do you get a night?”
“I don’t keep track.”
“When did you go to bed last night?”
Yukimura tugged at his scarf and muttered into it.
“What was that?”
“Four…”
“Four!” Hotaru repeated louder. “That’s unacceptable! While adults can function
on seven hours of sleep, you should aim for eight hours!”
Yukimura ran off excuses in a hushed tone, saying that he had a lot of things
to get done, he had a deadline coming up, he needed to work hard.
She tugged the scarf down, off of his face, so he had nowhere to hide and
nowhere else to look but her. “That’s no excuse. You need proper sleep, and if
your schedule interferes with it, then you need a proper schedule. No,” she
held up her hand, “there is no way around this. I will create a schedule for
you in order to increase your productivity and your sleep.”
Yukimura stared down at her and looked away, his pale cheeks faintly pink.
“Okay, Tachibana.”
Well that was surprisingly easy. Hotaru smiled at Yukimura and he walked away,
over to Matsuoka. They talked, and Matsuoka laughed and clasped Yukimura’s
shoulder while he looked away with red cheeks. Hotaru stared at them both,
unsure where to look, at the way Matsuoka’s cheeks pulled into a laugh and how
his body shook or at the quiet blush Yukimura rarely sported.
Then Matsuoka started touching her in the dreams. Even if they covered the same
subjects as Yukimura, the dreams felt different with him. They were like him,
loud and flirty. He slung his arm around the back of her chair and sometimes
grabbed her shoulder. He sat in front of her, cross legged, hands cupping her
knees, and talked while staring directly into her eyes. He leaned across her
back and helped her clean her gun (and even she knew that euphemism). It was
hard whenever he got close to her in real life, and she couldn’t look at him
for too long.
But all things considered, they were chaste. Touching was a things friends did.
It was normal to feel that warm. Hotaru told Kanae about her dreams, ending it
with “It’s weird having dreams about your friends, isn’t it?”
Kanae just smiled. “Honey,” she said in a soft voice, “you’ve got a crush.”
“Impossible!” Hotaru blurted. It was impossible. And also immoral. They were
adults, far older than her (though to be fair, she didn’t know their exact ages
but at least ten was a fair start), and her teammates. “I can’t—” she started,
then stopped, thinking about their smiles. Kanae just smiled. “They’re—” she
knew the excuses, but she couldn’t voice them. She heard Matsuoka’s laugh in
her head. “What do I do, Kanae?”
“Seduce them.”
Hotaru flushed. “No! I-I I want to get rid of these.”
“Too late.” Kanae smirked around her straw and then put her juice down, her
face falling into something more serious. “Hotaru, you like them. And you like
them more than friends.”
“M-more than friends is just an arbitrary goal o-or just something to devalue
traditional friendship—”
Kanae shook her head and sighed. “Fine. But there is a difference. You want
something out of them that you don't want out of me. You want their warmth and
you want to make them feel warm too. You want to return all of the smiles they
gave you. Maybe it’s not a crush.”
Hotaru almost collapsed in her chair out of relief.
“But I think it is. I also think you can’t stop the dreams.”
But that was fine because Hotaru could latch on the ‘maybe it’s not a crush’
part of Kanae’s speech and hold it tightly and strangle it and keep it close
and pretend that it was only a fluke that her heart beat more in the quiet of
their company than in the high-octane atmosphere of the field.
And then, as it always seemed to happen, Things Changed. Survival games always
had this weird atmosphere that colored their every action, and it did feel like
they were fighting for their lives even though the worst they’d suffer would
just be a bruise. So sometimes, they got in close calls, panicking situations
where they rush to defend each other and save them from death. When they all
made it out, there was a moment of a high, where there was just the crushing
relief of ‘I lived and you lived’ and they all smiled at each other. Hotaru had
heard in stories that the most passionate kisses happened after a near death
experience, as a desperate thanks for continued living. She hadn’t viewed it
before on the field, other than excited hugs and the occasional forehead touch
that made her blush and look away. Nothing serious happened, certainly not to
Toy Gun Gun.
Then during a massive capture the flag match with twenty people on each side,
Yukimura got ambushed. He was lying in a hill, sniping at people above
Matsuoka’s shoulder. Someone apparently was familiar with their routine, and a
group of seven of them were tracing the shot and tracked him. He managed to get
up before they surrounded him while he was prone, but his situation wasn’t much
better when he was standing. He didn’t have Hotaru’s speed and his dragunov was
unwieldy in close quarters. The other seven surrounded him, taking potshots at
him as he ducked from tree to tree, diving into bushes. Hotaru and Matsuoka
found him, covered in dirt and riddled with scratches from branches. He was
panting, clutching at his gun, dragging his feet. “Yukki!” Matsuoka yelled and
the two of them charged, firing into the field, Hotaru’s blind enthusiasm
compensated by Matsuoka’s skill. Seven hits rang out and Yukimura turned to
them, his mouth open and panting.
“Yukimura—” Hotaru started, taking a few steps towards him before Matsuoka ran
past her and pulled Yukimura into a crushing hug. Hotaru stopped and stared.
“Yukki,” Matsuoka said, his breath heavy, patting his hands on Yukimura’s arms,
reaching up to hold his face in his hands. “Yukki, I thought we lost you.”
Yukimura reached his hand up to hold Matsuoka’s wrist. “I’m fine, Mattsun.”
Matsuoka ran his thumb over a cut over his cheek, not bleeding but still shock
red. “You’re not fine. Yukki, I was so scared. There were seven of them.”
“I’m fine,” he said, moving his hand up to cup Matsuoka’s hand. Hotaru felt
like she was intruding, but she couldn’t look away and her blood was boiling
and she felt red all over. “You were here, Mattsun.”
Matsuoka gripped Yukimura’s face and kissed him with as much ferocity as he put
into their training. They stumbled back, tripping over their feet, their guns
clattering unnoticed to the ground. Yukimura grunted as his back slammed
against a tree and Matsuoka gripped his hair. The forest was quiet, the
survival game just a buzzing in the distance as the heavy sound of their
breathing and wet kissing noises. Hotaru just stared, watching them, boiling in
the hot summer sun and her heart pounding with the realization that she wanted
that with both of them, she wanted it so badly.
Someone captured a flag and the alarm echoed through the woods. Matsuoka and
Yukimura broke apart and started walking away, no more words between them.
Matsuoka picked up his gun and fawned over it, brushing dirt off of it while
Yukimura started meandering down the hill, acting like Hotaru was the only one
who noticed their messy hair, their swollen lips, their ruffled clothing. She
followed after them.
In the car, Matsuoka let his hand drop between them. “You’re driving, Mattsun,”
Yukimura said, glaring at it and Hotaru shifted forward, and then fell back
against her seat, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Tooru,” he said, and Yukimura dropped his hand into Matsuoka’s and linked
their fingers together. Hotaru stared at their clasped hands, and only looked
up once to find Yukimura looking at her too.
They ate at a café along the side of the road, Matsuoka regaling them with the
fights they just fought, and excitedly talking about the next day and practices
and what they could work on. Hotaru was always drawn in by Matsuoka’s smile and
the way his eyes lit up, but she found herself glancing at Yukimura while they
ate. She had never looked at him while Matsuoka talked. There was no reason to,
outside his occasional comments. Matsuoka was the one who was speaking, the one
who demanded attention. But now, she looked and didn’t know what to think. His
expression was so gentle, lips tilted upward. That expression probably wasn’t
even intentional. What expression did she have when she looked at him?
Yukimura looked over at her and frowned a bit. She started and looked down at
her burger and tried to run through all the things that she could have done
that could have made him shut off that smile.
She fell asleep on the drive back. It was taking longer than usual, cruelly
timed red lights and heavy traffic blocking their way, so she just rested her
head against the glass and closed her eyes. She dreamt of Yukimura and
Matsuoka’s kiss. She just stood, watching them, watching their lips move
against the other’s. They pulled away and looked over at her. “Hotaru,”
Matsuoka said and smiled, extended his hand to her. “What are you waiting for?”
He took her wrist and pulled her forward, into his chest and she was about to
explode from his warmth alone, and then he touched her cheek and she flushed
red all over. Yukimura reached around and slid his hand up the back of her head
and she shivered despite feeling like she had swallowed the sun.
Her shoulder shook. “Hotaru.”
Hotaru sat up and yelled, looking around quickly to reorient herself. Matsuoka
was right next to her, leaning in the car door and across the seat to reach
her. “Ah, Matsuoka.”
“We’re here. You awake?”
Hotaru rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck. “Yeah, yeah, sorry.” She
looked at Matsuoka, his big blue eyes, his ruffled hair and thought of her
dream, of Yukimura’s hands running through that hair, of the possibility of her
touching him as well and she blushed.
“Are you okay? Did you get a fever?” he stretched his hand out and touched her
cheek and she was overcome with the urge to just nuzzle his hand, to kiss the
calluses on his fingers, to say give me that warmth, give it to me, give me
everything please I want it so badly then was shocked by those emotions and
slapped his hand away.
“I’m fine!” she yelled and scrambled out of the car, grabbing her stuff. “Just
a bit tired. I’ll need to relax. Get a shower and all that.” She went up the
stairs, two at a time as she talked, then stood by her door, fumbling with her
keys.
Matsuoka walked to his apartment. “Alright. We’ll be going on a jog tomorrow
then, so make sure to get plenty of rest.” Yukimura walked past them and opened
his door. “Ah, Yukki?”
Yukimura looked over at him. “I need a shower first, then I’ll be over.”
Over? What would he be doing over there? Eating? Talking? Kissing?
Matsuoka smiled. “Alright. I’ll be waiting.”
“Leave your door unlocked.”
Hotaru just stared as the two of them talked like she wasn't there, like she
wasn't relevant, before turning to stare at the dent in her door. She went into
her apartment. Hotaru moved through her nightly routine, and sat at her desk
studying. Her phone vibrated and she checked Kanae’s message (she was the only
one who texted her, mostly because Hotaru didn’t have any other friends). It
was an excited message, every sentence punctuated with a vibrant emoticon,
asking her how her day went and if she acted upon her dreams today. Kanae
didn’t know much about her survival game life, and she didn’t understand it,
but she was supportive. Hotaru mentioned whenever they had meetings, and she
knew it was something to be excited about. She also knew that’s where her
“mysterious dream crushes” were, as Kanae liked to phrase it.
To:Kanae:
It went fine, as usual.
Hotaru stared at it longer and deleted it. That wasn’t true. The survival game
went fine, but it wasn’t usual. She wasn’t fine.
To:Kanae:
they’re in a relationship…
That message she sent before she could get enough sense to delete it. Kanae
called her. “What do you mean, ‘they’re in a relationship’!” she yelled into
Hotaru’s ear.
Hotaru sighed and rubbed her head. “Well, they kissed. So I assume they’re in a
relationship…”
“Kissed? Kissed who?”
“Each other. They’re dating each other.”
Kanae was silent on the other line. “Maybe they just kissed. Maybe it doesn’t
mean anything.” She sighed. “Sorry, that’s not a good train of thought.”
“What do I do? Kanae, I like them. I like them both.” She put her head on her
desk and rubbed her face. “They kissed and I knew. I’m so cold, Kanae.”
“Well I’m glad that you at least recognized it. You seem a bit softer now. I’m
glad to see you be a girl.” Kanae’s voice was joking, teasing, designed to
prompt a reaction. Earlier, Hotaru would’ve gladly returned that, but all she
could do was sigh. “Seduce them both?”
“Kanae…”
“That’s all I got.”
Hotaru leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Why does every girl make a big
deal about this? It’s nothing but annoying. It’s all fantasy too. I don’t know
if I can really gain anything from them. I don’t know what they have to offer
me. I don’t know anything.”
“Hotaru, I don't know either. But it's gotta be worth something. If you're
hurting this much now, imagine how happy you'll be later, with them.”
“How do you know that'll happen?”
Kanae sighed. “I don’t, Hotaru. But you deserve a world of happiness and that's
what I'll wish for you. Good luck Hotaru. With your life, you’ll need it.”
They talked for a bit more, before Hotaru declared that she needed to study now
before she went to bed early and they said their goodbyes. Hotaru rubbed her
face, sighed, then slapped herself, throwing all of her emotions into the math
assignment. She managed to get three problems done when she heard some activity
from next door, doors slamming and hushed voices. That wasn’t unusual. She
thought she heard Matsuoka accosting women regularly before she realized he was
seducing his gun. It was still weird though. She sighed and turned to her
schoolbook again and cursed the thin walls.
“Mattsun.”
“You can call me by my first name you know, Tooru, when you’re with me.”
“I like calling you Mattsun.” A pause. “My Mattsun.”
Hotaru stopped, slid her chair over to the wall, and pushed her ear to it, her
heart beating in her throat as she waited for them to speak again. This was
wrong, so wrong and immoral and the most horrible perverted action she could
do, but there she was, not even daring to breathe and overlap their words.
“You were great, Mattsun. I always enjoy watching you.”
“I’m impressed that you lasted so long. I’m guessing the jogging helped you
then, huh? We should do it more and—whoa!” There was a thud and a creak as the
bedframe hit the wall. Hotaru jumped out of her chair and then pressed herself
against the wall again, kneeling on the floor. “Ah—Tooru!”
“What?” Yukimura said with a voice she had heard a couple of times before, when
he started talking about sadism, that lighter more excited tone, an excitement
he rarely expressed. “What’s wrong, Mattsun?”
“I-I just didn’t expect you to be on top, that’s all.”
“We’re both masochists, but you never get to take it. And you were beautiful
today, Mattsun. So let me indulge you.”
“Alright,” Matsuoka said, his voice low and Hotaru let in a hissing breath
through her clenched teeth. “Go ahead.”
The bed creaked and Hotaru ran to her kitchenette, dumped out the water in a
glass and ran back to the wall and fell to her knees, pressing the glass to the
wall. She was filthy, a pervert, a voyeur, betrayer of friendships. But this
was so odd and she wanted to know more. Was this what their friendship was,
what was hiding underneath? The glass amplified their noises, frantic movements
and wet sounds. She heard them whisper the other’s names, sometimes softly and
other times louder, in a moan. Her skin was hot but her breathing was slow,
measured, like the tide. She licked her lips and swallowed, feeling the blood
pound down between her legs.
“Let me get the lube,” Matsuoka said.
“Okay,” Yukimura said, and shifted on the bed. “Who will be taking it?”
Hotaru covered her mouth. She wasn’t exactly up to date in her sexual
terminology for heterosexual relationships, let alone homosexual ones. But she
could understand that.
Matsuoka seemed confused by the question. “I thought I was.”
“No, you’re just on your back. But I can ride you. That could be good, couldn’t
it?”
“In what way?” Matsuoka replied slowly.
“I have more control if I’m riding you. I can squeeze you, make you come undone
in a simple movement. I could tie you down and make you stay still while I
control the movements. Would you like that, Mattsun? If you’re good, I’ll move
quickly. If you get too eager, I’ll slow down until you behave.”
“How slow?”
“I love you Mattsun, but you do have too much energy and enthusiasm sometimes.
I could slow to a stop and just sit there, with your balls against my ass,
occasionally clenching around you just so you remember what I could be doing to
you.” Yukimura was in the middle of a word when it cut off abruptly and she
heard moaning. “I was talking.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Matsuoka didn’t sound sorry though. She could see
his wide grin and bright eyes in her head, imagined what it would be like if he
was lying on his back, up at her, with his shirt off and hair messed up.
“There was another option, you know. I could’ve fucked you, watched you come
apart, prodded your prostate until you were gasping my name and begging for me
to jerk you off. But you just had to be impatient. So I’ll be riding you
tonight.”
“Tooru…”
“Give me the lube.”
“Should I call you master too?”
“I’m not that much of a sadist. Lie down.”
Hotaru didn’t need a glass to hear the moans Yukimura made. She lowered the
glass and sat with her back to the wall, hearing Yukimura gasp and moan through
the wall. The sounds he made pounded in time with her heart.
“You’re beautiful, Tooru,” Matsuoka said over Yukimura’s moans. “I love
watching you do this. You’re so good at this. I’ve only seen you handle your
rifle better than this and you’re beautiful when you’re sniping.”
“Beautiful,” Yukimura repeated, then his breath stuttered. “Beautiful, lying on
my stomach in the grass?”
“I like you on your stomach.”
“I like you knocked on your back,” Yukimura said and let out a breath. “I like
seeing your face, Mattsun.”
“Well get over here and get a better look.”
“You’re not in any position to be ordering me, Mattsun.”
“Sorry. If I put your condom on for you, will that make it up to you?”
“Go ahead, Mattsun.”
Hotaru pushed her shorts off as they rearranged herself, her heart pounding in
her throat. Hotaru masturbated a lot, every night before bed. Not for a sexual
reason, she just needed the muscle relaxant and the endorphins that orgasms
provided. Purely clinical. She had never felt the need to orgasm. But right now
she did. She needed to. She sat against the wall, tilting her hips up and
gently ran her finger up her slit. She gasped and covered her mouth, her hips
twitching towards her now damp finger.
“Ready?” Yukimura asked and Hotaru nodded.
“Go ahead,” Matsuoka muttered and then gasped. The bed began to creak and
Matsuoka moaned so loud she thought he was next to her. Hotaru clasped her hand
over her mouth and pressed her finger to her clit.
“Be quiet,” Yukimura scolded, “Tachibana will hear.”
“So what?”
Hotaru didn’t know what that meant, didn’t know how to take that. But they both
moaned, Yukimura’s higher and breathless and Matsuoka’s deeper and more
desperate tone and she ran her fingers down her labia, the gentle touch causing
her legs to stutter against the floor. She breathed hotly against her hand as
she rubbed herself, hearing the adults through the wall, their moans louder
than the bed creaking with their movements. She could hear words in the moans,
mostly each other’s name, whispered like a plea or prayer. They were saying it
desperately, sometimes their frantic breathing cutting off their names, but
they kept repeating it, as if it was necessary for their pleasure that they
said their names. She wondered if it would do the same for her.
She pushed her finger inside of her and moaned “Matsuoka” into her hand. Her
hips jerked and she dug her heels into the ground. She rubbed her clit with a
“Yukimura” and her breath caught in her throat as she trembled, perfectly still
except for her hand frantically moving against her body, pushing the orgasm out
of her. On the other side of the wall, she heard their movements stop after a
hot rush of moans. Her hips fell to the floor and she breathed heavily, her
mind in a blissful haze of endorphins. It seemed to take longer for it to clear
than usual. Was it just their names that made the experience better? Was it the
fact that it was born out of sexual attraction? She didn’t know. She heard them
talk on the other side of the wall and she stood up and walked away.
She cleaned up the damp spot on the floor and went through the last of her
bedtime routine in a daze. The guilt started to set in. She just masturbated to
her neighbors, to her teammates. She listened in on them while they were having
sex. She was having dreams about them and wanted to act on them even though
they were already in a relationship. She was the worst kind of person. She
wondered how she could face them in the morning as she fell asleep, her limbs
heavy with exhaustion.
The dreams didn’t get any better that night. Now that they had basis for sexual
content, they cruelly acted on it. But they were undoubtedly sexual, and she
woke up to Matsuoka’s fists on her door and wondered if she had time to
masturbate before she went on a jog (she did and she was so wet it was easy to
coax out an orgasm).
She was very short with everyone that practice, answering far too quickly and
too briefly than was natural. It was all she could do to keep herself from
becoming permanently red when she looked at them. Matsuoka looked concerned and
worried about her safety, and Yukimura just stared at her from behind him. It
was a very awkward day in general.
But Hotaru had to communicate with Yukimura that evening to make sure their
scheduling worked well and that he was actually following his schedule. If she
didn’t, he would undoubtedly sink into a pile of refuge and ferment there.
After standing outside his door for a couple minutes, she took a deep breath
and pushed the door open. “Yukimura!” she yelled into the room. “Are you
working?”
Yukimura was cupping his ears at his desk, his tablet set up in front of him
and his manga open. He glared at her. “Yes.”
“Good!” There was a stretch of silence where they just stared. “I’m, I’m going
to just, sit down. Make sure, you’re working.” Hotaru walked to Yukimura’s bed
and sat on it. She managed to keep her composure until Yukimura turned around,
then held her head. She was on his bed. His bed. He probably did things in it.
He might’ve even done things with Matsuoka. And here she was, sitting on it,
like nothing was wrong. She was dirty, a dirty, dirty person.
“You didn’t know, did you?” Yukimura said, not facing her.
Hotaru immediately sobered up at Yukimura’s voice. “What?”
“You didn’t know about Mattsun and I, did you? That we’re in a relationship.”
She shook her head. “I just thought you were friends. And that you were weird.”
“You don’t have to phrase it like that,” Yukimura muttered, spinning his chair
to face her. He didn’t say anything else, just glared at her. Hotaru shifted,
but didn’t say anything. “Are you alright with that?”
Hotaru was so okay with that, she masturbated to it. She probably didn’t want
to actually mention that. She just nodded. “Of course.”
He kept staring.
“I guess I was acting very odd,” Hotaru admitted. “I was just surprised. I
thought you both liked girls. Matsuoka has the host club and you have your—”
she waved her hand in front of her.
“Well, Mattsun likes both.”
“And you do too?”
“I’m…” he tapped his pen against his lips and chewed the end. “I'm different. I
like only certain people sexually. Like Mattsun.”
“But you draw—” she turned red and snapped her mouth shut and stared at her
knees.
“They’re different. They’re not real.” Hotaru tilted her head and Yukimura
sighed and rested his head on his palm. “I can’t like everyone whenever I see
them. I could never date anyone, I thought. Nobody’s interesting. But with
Mattsun, it just happened one day without any prompting. And I wanted. And I
have my Mattsun now. I wasn’t sure if it would happen again.”
“Wasn’t?”
Yukimura grimaced and looked away. “So it’s not a problem?”
She shook her head. “Just unexpected. I thought you were friends. But I feel
like this explains a lot. That’s all.”
Yukimura nodded and went back to his work. “People tend to not react well,” was
all he said and then the tap of pen against tablet filled the room.
She stared at his back for a long time, at the curls of unkempt hair she didn’t
know if she wanted to smooth or twirl around her finger. She spoke again.
“I…also like boys.”
The pen stopped. Hotaru paled. That wasn’t the correct thing to say. She did
like boys, but she wasn’t gay because she wasn’t a boy. They weren’t comparable
at all. She was lying to him and she felt horrible. Yukimura let out a breath.
“Okay.”
She looked down at her legs. Before she left, she asked Yukimura if she could
borrow one of his manga and he got excited, practically cooing over her
acceptance of his craft, shoving crude book after crude book into her arms
until she punched his side and left while he was groaning in the threshold. She
wasn’t interested in books about sadomasochism, but she was interested in
Yukimura. She just wanted to understand Yukimura’s thoughts and feelings.
Fiction was ultimately wish fulfillment. What sexual wishes did Yukimura have?
Were they just wishes, or did Matsuoka fulfill them for him?
They were a bit weird, things that Hotaru didn’t understand, didn’t comprehend,
grimaced. Why did people like this? Why did Yukimura like this? Did he like
girls who were cruel, who forced him to kneel while they forced his mouth open?
Did he want to be hurt? It didn’t make any sense to her.
While she was sitting on her floor, back against the wall that divided her and
Matsuoka, she heard Yukimura enter his room, heard their conversation, heard
Matsuoka command Yukimura to get on his hands and knees, then later asked he
could push his face into the pillow and Yukimura gasped out “Mattsun, please,
Mattsun,” and Hotaru felt she understood him a bit more.
There was still a layer of awkward every time Matsuoka wished her a good day at
school, though Hotaru insisted everything was fine. She dreamt sexual dreams
about the two of them, still veiled in this haze of mystery. Yukimura’s manga
had influenced her dreams though, grounding them in concrete, hentai imagery.
She saw herself at a distance, back arched and breasts inflated, the space
between her and whatever man was in her at that moment a flash of light.
Conversations from the brief encounters she overheard through her were
repeated, her name repeated instead of theirs. If she didn’t dream about them
having sex with her, they were just with her, close and warm and that warmth
tinted her skin pink throughout the day.
But she was able to function as long as her thoughts didn’t drift because if
they drifted, they’d drift to them and their lips on hers and that was
distracting. She’d trip over everything, stop in the middle of her sentence and
just stare with a red face because those thoughts could stop time itself. It
worked, only barely though. It was still obvious that something was very wrong.
Especially when she looked over at them and found herself unable to control her
feet.
“Something’s on your mind,” Matsuoka said before one of their games. They were
waiting for the rain to stop its gentle patter on the grounds so they could
play. Yukimura had run off to get refreshments for them, leaving just the two
of them at a bench. “What is it?”
“Nothing!”
“Hotaru,” Matsuoka said, scooting along the bench until they were next to each
other, only a breath of air between them. “Be serious.”
Hotaru glanced at him, swallowed, and spoke slowly, like she was treading on an
icy lake that could crack and shatter at any moment. “Yukimura told me you were
dating.”
“I guess we are,” Matsuoka said with the easy confidence he always had. At
Hotaru's dazed look, Matsuoka continued. “We don't really date. We see each
other so often already. We always talk when we're together. To say that we
should go out for a dinner date seems silly when we already do that after
training.”
Except Hotaru was there. And they weren't dating her.
“Sometimes I'll cook for him or bring him takeout whenever a deadline’s coming
up. But other than that, we're not that affectionate of a couple.”
“And you're fine with that?”
Matsuoka raised an eyebrow.
Hotaru flushed. Bad question bad question. She held up her hands and waved them
in front of her face. “I mean you just seem like the kind of affectionate
boyfriend so I thought you'd be the same to him, because, I mean, you've done
the same to me. N-not in a romantic context of course, but you've touched my
face a lot and you try to hug me and you don't really do that with Yukimura!”
The hole she had dug herself in was deep and offered no escape.
But Matsuoka just laughed at her. Hotaru stared and found herself drifting,
thinking about how wonderful he looked with his cheeks pinked in the summer
heat and a smile more bright than the sun. “It's Yukki, you know. He doesn't
really know how to be friendly. That's how he is.”
“I get it. But I guess I still don’t understand how you can date and be in the
host club.”
“It’s simple. I just don’t see those women outside of work. Interacting with
them is fun, but it’s nothing like you and Yukki. You two are my best friends.
The relationship I have with you two is deeper than I can have with even my
most loyal customers. I can relax around the two of you, not have to worry
about appearances.” Hotaru stared at him, mouth slightly open and cheeks
turning pink. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and bit the end of one.
“What?”
“No-nothing! It’s just—” Hotaru laughed awkwardly, “—just it’s odd that you put
Yukimura and me on the same level. Considering that you’re dating Yukimura. And
not…me.”
The cigarette was limp between Matsuoka’s lips. He somehow managed to have his
face pale and drawn in horror as well as flushed with embarrassment. She stared
at him, into the stark blue of his eyes, trying to connect the dots, trying to
understand. Why did a question about his dating habits include her so
seamlessly? She thought of her dreams, of his touch, of him inviting her into
his arms after he kissed Yukimura. Did he like her? Her heart leapt into her
throat and pounded rapidly. Please, please tell me that
“I’m back,” Yukimura called, jogging back to them with three bottles in his
arms. “Eh? What’s wrong? Why are you red, Mattsun?” He looked over at Hotaru
and narrowed his eyes. “Tachibana?”
“Wow! Would you look at that soda!” Matsuoka grabbed one of the bottles and
shook it. “Hotaru, did you want some?” he asked, turning to her with his hand
on the cap.
Hotaru leaped off of the bench and ran out into the rain. “No! Stay away from
me!”
Matsuoka chased after her, a wicked smirk darkening his face. “Eh? Hotaru,
where are you going!”
Yukimura sighed and drank his soda and watched Matsuoka slip on a patch of mud
and fall with no remorse. Hotaru slid back into her seat, brushing water off
her hair. “It’s not raining as hard. We should be able to go back out soon.”
Yukimura nodded. “Hmm, yeah. It’ll be muddy though. You should be careful.”
“I’ll be fine, Yukimura. I just hope you won’t get too dirty.”
“I’m used to it.”
“I’m sure you are,” Matsuoka said, coming back to the table, mud slicked along
his knees. Hotaru stared at her bottle to try to push away her blush.
Yukimura bit the edge of his bottle. “I figured out who we’re up against next.”
He turned to Hotaru, and she picked up the cue to ask him.
“Oh? Anyone I’d know?”
“Probably not. But they’re strong. Not TGC strong, but I know that you’d like a
good fight.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Matsuoka muttered. “You’ll get him to do something
stupid.”
“Don’t worry, Matsuoka!” Hotaru exclaimed, clenching her fists. “I’ll fight to
the best of my ability!”
“Yeah. That’s why I want you to be careful, Hotaru. They like ambushing
people.” Matsuoka grabbed her shoulder and shook it. “Got it?”
She smiled at him and didn’t push his hand away. “I’m fine, Matsuoka. I’ve
fought worse than whomever these are. I’m strong. I’ll certainly hit them!”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Matsuoka teased, ruffling her hair. She
pushed her shoulders up to her ears and bent her head to hide the tint of pink
in her cheeks. He smiled softly at her. “You’ll be fine.”
“He says after worrying,” Yukimura said. He looked incredibly close to cracking
a smile and trying desperately to hold it back.
Hotaru smiled and laughed. When they were all together like this, it was easy
to forget that they weren’t on the same level of friendship. Matsuoka shared
his smiles just as eagerly with her as he did with Yukimura. Yukimura looked at
her so fondly. They were together. In the summer rainy mist, they glowed. Even
when they left to go fight, she felt the glow just stretch to fill the gap
between them. She knew that Yukimura would be in the distance, watching out for
her. She knew that Matsuoka would be there to cover for her as she ran to the
flag. She knew all of this and couldn’t stop glowing as they met their
opponents on the field.
There was three of them, all rather generic, one with dyed crimson hair, one
who was utterly normal except for his glasses, and one with a face mask.
Yukimura said they were strong.
“Well, well, well,” the redheaded member said, sneering at Hotaru when she
introduced herself. He didn’t seem inclined to give his name. She’d just refer
to him as Sneer. It seemed to be his default facial expression anyway. “Look
who it is. Toy Gun Gun’s newest member.” Matsuoka stiffened next to her.
“Didn’t you cry at TGC?”
“You weren’t at TGC,” Hotaru said, blankly. It was obvious. Everyone there had
a powerful aura that made her feel like she was in danger. She just felt like
she needed to sneeze around him. “You are far too pathetic to ever be at TGC. I
don’t think you’re skilled at all.” She glanced to the side and saw Yukimura
tugging at his scarf and Matsuoka grinning, not bothering to hide his
amusement.
Glasses grimaced, and the tall one with the facemask didn’t do a thing, but she
bet Stoic was irritated too. “You shouldn’t be too smug.”
She couldn’t help but be smug. She had Yukimura and Matsuoka by her side and
she knew that they were proud of her. She bowed. “I hope your strategy has
evolved beyond cowardly ambushes.” When she straightened, their backs were
rigid and their expressions were livid. Glasses’ ears were tinted pink.
Matsuoka was laughing into his hand as they stalked off, muttering to
themselves as they took up their position on the other end of the field.
“You’d better be careful,” Yukimura said. “They’re probably mad now.”
“I’ll have your back,” Matsuoka said, somehow managing to keep his expression
serious. “So just don’t run too far out ahead.”
Hotaru nodded and dashed out onto the field when the starting alarm went off,
sliding briefly on the wet grass so she could crouch behind the wooden barrier.
She would be the attacker, running out into the field to capture the flag from
them. Matsuoka would cover her and Yukimura was lurking at base, guarding their
flag and their backs as well. She peeked around the corner, then looked in
front of her. Matsuoka looked around his cover and grinned at her. Her heart
fluttered. This was them. They were beautiful like this. She could spend the
rest of her life in the field with their smiles spurring her forward.
She nodded and ran off, unable to stop her euphoric giggles. She saw Glasses
duck in and out of cover, but she held her fire, waiting until she was closer
to unleash a stream of bullets. She missed every time, but she chased him down
into the center of the arena. “Hotaru, slow down!” Matsuoka yelled behind her,
but she kept running. Matsuoka was protective of her, but she wasn’t the green
girl who ducked from cover to cover, unable to hit a tree. She had a better gun
now, and she wouldn’t be stopped. She didn’t need Matsuoka. She could fight and
win on her own, and they would hug her and laugh with her and it’d be just like
her dreams. Just the ones without the kissing and the sex (though those would
be amazing too, if incredibly unlikely).
She saw Glasses crouch behind a barrel and she slid to a stop and held up her
gun, taking aim at his cover. She heard him laugh. Then she heard another
laugh. History repeated, as it tended to do at the most inconvenient times.
Stoic and Sneer stood up from behind their hiding places, guns pointed at her.
She was at her first match again, against Grayhound. She was surrounded again.
But she wasn’t green, and she knew her charging ahead was a mistake now, but
she did it anyway and the universe compensated by narrowing the field. There
was no cover for her. There was barely two meters between each person. No space
to run. “How smug are you feeling now?” Sneer laughed at her. They raised their
guns and Hotaru was still trying to figure out who to shoot.
A bullet flew above Hotaru and hit Stoic’s shoulder. Yukimura. Yukimura was
watching her. He protected her. Hotaru dashed to the opening, aiming a burst
over her shoulder. “Fuck, I’m hit!” Unlike Grayhound, they knew how call their
shots though. Little victories.
“After him!” Sneer yelled as Hotaru slid behind cover in the gap Stoic left for
her, getting mud over her shorts and legs. But that was fine, she was safe now.
They were peppering her cover. She sighed and waited. Matsuoka was behind her.
He’d protect her.
“Hotaru!” Matsuoka yelled over the bullets. “Your left!”
Hotaru stood. It was a distraction. One of them pinned her while the other
circled around. She pointed her gun at her left and backed away. Sneer rounded
the corner, his eyes wide and grin wider. She took a couple of steps back and
fired, missing him completely. But that was fine. That was only to keep him
away anyway. She needed to think. She could run right, out of cover, but
Matsuoka seemed to be struggling to hit Glasses. She could end up in either of
their lines of fire. Matsuoka wouldn’t be able to protect her if she just ran
straight away from him. But that was fine. She could take care of herself. She
pushed off and ran as Sneer fired and missed. There was cover just ahead. She’d
vault over it.
Sneer fired, but she was already starting to weave away. “Come back here!”
Too late, she was gone. Her cover was in sight. She grinned and ran faster,
right onto a patch of loose grass, still wet from the rain. Her solid step
slipped and she slid forward. She swung her arms around to try to find her
balance, but she crashed all the same. Mud slicked her side, sticking in her
hair. She groaned and shifted, feeling each pulse of her heartbeat echo along
side and she ached. She groaned and pushed herself up, grabbing her gun from
where it laid in the mud. Sneer laughed at her. He was standing right over her,
his face too hard to see with the sun behind him. She could see his gun though,
at his side, resting while he gloated. “You look so pathetic!” She saw the
light glint off of his machine gun more than she recognized that it was moving.
Hotaru moved on instinct, raising her gun and pulling the trigger at the same
time. A stream of bullets curved up, slapping him in the chest. He stared at
her and lowered his gun. “Hit…”
Matsuoka fired and hit Sneer between the shoulder blades.
“I said hit!”
Hotaru stood up, rubbing her elbow. Scrapped, but not bleeding, at least not
bleeding badly. Her pride honestly hurt more. Matsuoka was running towards her
and she braced herself. As soon as Matsuoka saw her, he’d probably make fun of
her, more mud than person right now. “Matsuoka—”
Matsuoka grabbed her face and pushed their lips together. It was uncomfortable,
really. He had to bend down to reach her lips, and her neck was being pulled up
to meet him. It wasn’t really a kiss, but a smashing of their lips. He was
breathing against her cheek and it tickled.
But it felt wonderful. She could taste sweat and cherry chapstick on his lips.
He was warm and close and she could’ve overflowed from the very knowledge that
he wanted to kiss her and the fact that he was actually doing it was almost too
much.
Matsuoka pulled back, eyes wide. “I’m sorry Hotaru—”
No. She wouldn’t have it end like that. She dropped her gun and grabbed
Matsuoka’s jacket collar. He stopped talking and stared. He had such bright
blue eyes and she’d stare into them and chart out the noon sky in them if it
wasn’t for the fact that she needed him. She pulled him down to her level and
kissed him. Their lips were stiff against each other but Matsuoka gripped her
hair and moved his lips and she softened her mouth and followed. It was still
weird. She was up on her toes and her arms were leaning against his chest,
trying to keep level with his lips and she knew that something would stiffen or
give out if she continued. She wasn’t sure what she was doing. Mimicking could
only get so far when Matsuoka was moving so quickly, desperately touching her.
His hands started in her hair, and then one moved to cup her neck, then moved
down to her back and circled her waist, pulling her against him. If it wasn’t
for her arms between them, they’d be flush together.
He pulled back and Hotaru leaned up to his mouth, trying to reconnect.
“Hotaru,” Matsuoka muttered against her lips, and she just breathed against
him, nodding her head. She couldn’t even keep her eyes open and look at him,
staring at him through half lidded eyes. “Hotaru,” he said again and moved. He
cupped her cheek and pushed her back against the wooden cover. She gasped into
his mouth and he pushed his tongue in.
Well. That was something. It was warm, and it tasted different than his lips.
She moved her right hand to his hair, gripping it while she pressed her tongue
against his. He moaned into her mouth and scooted closer. One of his legs was
in between hers, and the hand around her waist moved to her hip and squeezed
and her legs stuttered because he didn’t just want to kiss her, he didn’t just
want—
The flag alarm rang out and Matsuoka pulled away, putting a couple of steps
between them. Yukimura walked towards them and Hotaru paled. She just kissed
Matsuoka, but he was Yukimura’s boyfriend. She just destroyed something between
them. Matsuoka ran his hands through his hair (it was messy where her fingers
ran through and that made her proud and disgusted all in the same breath) and
forced a grin. “Yukki. Great job picking up the slack.”
Yukimura glanced back and forth between the two of them and nodded. Did he not
realize? No, he had to have realized. He was defense. He wouldn’t have moved to
capture the flag if he didn’t notice them not moving. But why wasn’t he mad?
She had seen him mad at her before, when they first met, glares under his
glasses and passive aggressive remarks. Yukki was just reserved now, barely
even talking to Matsuoka. Matsuoka didn’t prompt any conversations either. She
rubbed her elbow, scratching at the skin while she looked down at her feet, not
able to look at their backs without feeling guilt. She messed up. She shouldn’t
have kissed Matsuoka. They were happy together, and she just tore it up because
she wanted something.
“Hotaru, did you get hurt?” Matsuoka asked, looking over his shoulder at her.
Yukimura was gone. They were already back at the benches.
“It’s just a scrape. I just need to get the mud off.”
Matsuoka nodded and reached his hand out to her, like he was going to ruffle
her hair or touch her face. He stopped, clenched his fist and lowered his arm.
“Can you take care of it? I can clean your gun for you.”
She did mess up. He wouldn’t have hesitated at all before. But she nodded and
marched off to the bathrooms. It wasn’t like she needed him to help her anyway
(but it would’ve been nice to have him doting her, teasing her, being with
her). Hotaru turned to the woman's bathroom as Yukimura exited the men's room.
They both froze. “Tachibana…” Yukimura started.
She couldn’t dance around this subject. Well she could, she had done it with
her gender for a long time now, but this wasn’t something she wanted to avoid.
Hotaru bowed. “I’m sorry. What I did was completely unforgivable. I will take
full responsibility for what happened. Please don't hold this against your
relationship with Matsuoka.”
Yukimura started talking, slowly, trying to find his voice. “Tachibana—”
“You two are a lovely couple,” she said and her heart twisted despite that
because she still wanted them, wanted to be three in a world built for two.
“Can I speak—”
“I don’t want to get between you two.”
“Tachibana, I knew he liked you and I’m fine with it.”
Hotaru straightened and stared at him.
“Ah, were you going to use the restroom? Sorry, sorry I'll get out of your
way.” And he started to walk away from her after that startling remark with a
nonchalant explanation. No, she would not stand for it. She wrapped her arms
around Yukimura’s waist and pulled his back to her chest. He went rigid, then
took in a shaking breath. “Tachibana?”
“Yukimura, if you don't explain, I will suplex you into the cement.” She
tightened her grip and lifted him off the ground and he flailed like a panicked
kitten.
“Alright, let me go!” Hotaru dropped Yukimura and took a step back, before
walking into the men’s bathroom. She grabbed a handful of paper towels and wet
them while Yukimura leaned against the wall. She started washing the mud off of
her arm and waited for him. He glanced at her, fixed his clothes, and sighed.
“I don't know what you want me to say.”
“I just want some explication. I don't expect you to tell me how you know, but
I want to know why you're okay with it.”
“Because it's…it's Mattsun. And you.”
Hotaru stopped scrubbing her arm and looked up at him.
He didn't look back, staring at the wall. “I can't blame you for kissing
Mattsun. He's beautiful. And I can't blame him for kissing you because you're
radiant.”
Hotaru blushed. What was she supposed to say to that? Was that even a friendly
compliment? She was too wrapped up in hopes to think of anything else.
“I'm not,” Yukimura said, and Hotaru's heart broke as he covered his mouth.
“I'm scruffy, and Mattsun always looks nice. Mattsun’s hair is soft no matter
how styled it is and mine has never been. My eyes are dull, I don't have any
style, I'm creepy, I don't like anybody and nobody likes me. Except for
Mattsun.”
Hotaru grabbed his hand and pulled it away from his face. His eyes widened and
he stared down at her. “That’s not true. I like you both. You are kind, and
soft, and I—” she swallowed and stared at her feet, saw Yukimura’s boots right
next to her shoes and looked up at him. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open
like he was going to say something, but he was silent. “The dreams that I’ve
had about you are always about your gentle touches and smile, the ones I’ve
seen in real life. Those are you, uniquely you. Matsuoka can never compare to
that.” She leaned up and kissed him.
She expected it to be the same with Matsuoka, to have him meet her with force.
But he was still. She miscalculated. She pulled back. “I’m sorry.” She fell
back on her heels and looked down. “I’m sorry.”
“No.”
She looked up at him. “No?”
Yukimura twisted his hand and their fingers wound together. She let herself be
moved and stared at their linked hands, watch his glove press into her knuckles
as he squeezed her hand. He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers,
eyes closed. She stared at the frames of his glasses and he breathed out
against her lips. “This is fine.”
This was better than her dreams. She could feel the warmth of his head and his
breath. His hair tickled her skin. His thumb moved against her knuckle. She
swallowed and closed her eyes, relaxing into him. “This is nice…” She raised
her hand and placed it on Yukimura’s hair. She let it stay still at first, then
let her fingers slide and tangle in it. “I don’t know why you mentioned the
hair thing.”
Yukimura’s breathing slowed to a gentle breeze against her lips and his hand
tightened against hers. She opened her eyes and found his dull black eyes
watching her from behind his glasses. He didn’t say anything, but his body felt
stiff from where they were against each other, like he didn’t trust her, or he
didn’t know what to expect and was afraid of it.
“Well, I don’t know why you think any of those things. But your hair feels like
down feathers. I like it.”
He let out a breath and reached his hand out to her head. His hand slid against
the layer of mud before it bumped onto her hair on its way back to cup her
neck. Yukimura tilted his head down, his lips brushing against hers. “Thank
you, Tachibana.”
She pushed up to his lips, letting the brush turn into a gentle press. This
time, he kissed back, but it stayed slow, moving at the pace of a gentle
heartbeat. This was why people always made kissing into a big deal. Matsuoka’s
kiss was heated and felt like if she didn't respond she'd drown and be cold.
But kissing like that every day would be exhausting. This kiss wasn't. She
could fall asleep to this kiss, wake up to this kiss, spend a summer afternoon
lounging in a sunny spot, legs tangled in bed sheets and his legs with this
kiss. It was soft, they broke apart to breathe the same breath and came back
again. Yukimura was leading her with his hand on her cheek, nudging them apart
and back together in a rhythm he knew well, but it felt like they were just one
thing meeting and pulling apart. Their movements were a tide of you-me-us.
Hotaru heard the door creak and her name before the door slammed into her back
and ruined their gentle pace by smashing their teeth together. “Eh?” Matsuoka
peeked around the corner. “Yukki? What are you doing back…” He trailed off and
looked down at where their hands were still linked even when they had broken
apart. “Yukki…”
Yukimura’s tone was even, just a normal conversational tone. “Eh? What?”
“We were supposed to talk about this and establish boundaries…”
“Is that what your tongue was doing down Tachibana’s throat?”
Hotaru looked back and forth between them. She had no clue what was going on.
Matsuoka wasn't reprimanding them, and seemed just like he wanted to talk about
it. Yukimura wasn't trying to make Matsuoka feel guilty, just tease him. They
were still holding hands. “I'm sorry, but what's going on? Did I do something
wrong?”
Matsuoka shook his head vigorously and she could see Yukimura’s gentle shake at
the corner of her vision. “Hotaru, we're both adults, and you're not. We're at
fault here. No matter how close we are to you, there’s always going to be a
difference in power. And we should’ve talked it through. But I messed up.”
“You did,” Yukimura said, swinging his and Hotaru’s linked hands.
“Tooru is not helping.”
“So…” Hotaru started.
Matsuoka rubbed his face. “We shouldn’t be talking about this in a bathroom.
I’ve ordered a taxi for you.”
“Eh? Why?”
“Because I don’t want to put you in a place that you can’t escape from if
you’re uncomfortable. Hotaru, I l—” he flushed pink and turned his head away,
“a-and I don’t want to put you somewhere you’re uncomfortable. Even if you’re
okay with this,” he gestured in a circle, “we need to make sure that you really
are and that we don’t overstep our bounds. So please, do this for me.”
Hotaru nodded. “Okay.”
Matsuoka stared and then reached out and ruffled her hair. “Get a shower when
you get home. You’re filthy. I’ll cook for us, if you want to come over.”
She smiled. “I do.”
***** Her Reality *****
Chapter Summary
     Even with their hands down her pants, Matsuoka and Yukimura still
     think Hotaru’s a boy.
Chapter Notes
     I should really remember that I'm slow at everything. Pretend it's
     Monday somewhere in the world right now.
     I feel like there's a lot of wishfulliment for me going on here with
     anxiety leading into sorta-body worship but whatever.
     Enjoy sex with lots of protection by someone who has never been
     sexually active!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
In the taxi—all paid for by Matsuoka, tip included—Hotaru sighed and rubbed her
head. What was her life? She punched a door next to her neighbor’s head and now
she kissed him. His best friend was jealous of her and wanted him nowhere near
her but now they were gentle with each other. She tilted her head back and
asked if the driver would inform her when they reached the apartment complex.
She dreamt of them again. This time, it was Matsuoka that was slow with her,
constantly muttering her name between kisses. When they pulled away, Matsuoka
smiled and pushed her back into Yukimura’s arms. Yukimura took her and wrapped
his arms around her waist and slid his hand up her chest to grab her chin and
tilted it up. She reached her hand up into his hair and held him as he leaned
down and kissed her. His teeth scraped her lip and she gasped into his mouth.
That wasn’t something she was familiar with, but everything else was, just
attached to different people. In her dream, Yukimura pushed her closer and held
her still while he kissed her, his breath heavy against her cheek. She could
just move to the pace he dictated and hold on. His hand moved down to her hip
and then between her legs and then the taxi driver told her to wake up and she
had only wanted to shoot Midori this much before.
She thanked the driver—less sincerely than she would’ve liked—and ran up to her
apartment. Maybe she'd experience it later. Matsuoka’s door was propped open.
“I'll be over in a minute!” she yelled.
“Take your time,” Matsuoka yelled back. “Yukki is being the most uncooperative
chef.”
“Aaahh—” Yukimura moaned, in that high-pitched voice he sometimes used when he
was voicing manga or just being weird. “M-more, Mattsun. More, please. Ahh-ri-
right there.”
“Yukki, don’t force me to put so much pepper on it—let go of me!”
Hotaru smiled and shook her head. They were silly adults, silly and stupid and
she loved them. She was smiling as she took a shower, as she washed the mud out
of her hair. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to root around in her cupboards for
some of the sweet smelling shampoo that Kanae gave her before she learned
better or to just hurry up and go there. She ended up running into their
apartment in her bare feet, hair still damp. Her orange button up wasn’t done
correctly and was uneven. Matsuoka looked over at her and smiled. He was at the
stove, three pieces of paper printed out above his head, blowing slightly in
the steam. It looked like printouts from a website. “I’m almost done here. Did
you close the door?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to let bugs in.”
“I don’t mind it. Keep it open. Then you can set the table.” He pulled a key
out of the pocket of his apron and handed it to her. “You’ll need that if you
want Yukki to help.”
Hotaru looked down at it and raised an eyebrow. “All…right?”
Matsuoka smiled and gave her a thumbs up. She wandered around Matsuoka’s
apartment, looking around briefly. Her apartment felt so spare in comparison to
his lavish palace. The bare bones and sparse decorations of her were nothing to
his completely refurbished apartment. The layouts of all the apartments were
the same (she had been in Yukimura’s enough to know that for sure) but
Matsuoka’s apartment was far fancier, taking the simple space and filling it
with extravagance. It was beautiful, even just the two rooms she had seen.
In the living room, Yukimura was lying on his stomach, hands by the table leg.
He tilted his neck up and smiled when she walked in. “Ah, Tachibana! Did
Mattsun give you the key?”
She held up the key and knelt next to him. “What’s the key for?”
He shimmied on his stomach until he could grab his sweater sleeve and pull it
down enough to show her the handcuffs around his wrists, wound around the table
leg. “Mattsun thought I was being annoying, so he cuffed me here so I would be
out of his way,” he gave an awkward chuckle and waved his hands at Hotaru’s
pale face. “But don’t worry about that. I can help you now.”
“I don’t think I want you to help me if you got in this situation with
Matsuoka,” she said, pocketing the key while Yukimura screeched. She stepped
around him as he shimmied around the table, ignoring him while she set up
dinner, calmly chatting with Matsuoka in the kitchen while Yukimura complained
and tugged at the handcuffs.
She waited until Matsuoka plated everything before she let Yukimura up. He
rubbed his wrists and glared at the two of them as he settled into the seat to
the left of Hotaru. “You two are horrible.”
Hotaru picked at her food, glancing at the two of them. “What did you even do?”
Matsuoka reached over Hotaru to hand Yukimura his plate. “He was being
obnoxious. Wouldn’t stop bothering me when I was cooking. So I chained him up.
He just forgot how to get out of them.”
“What’s the point of handcuffs if you make it easy to get out of them?”
Yukimura clapped his hands together. “Well—”
Matsuoka slammed his hands on the table. “Let’s eat!”
Yukimura deflated and reluctantly shoveled food into his mouth. “It’s more
spicy than usual.”
“I wonder whose fault that was.”
This was nice, domestic, something she was used to. But she didn’t want what
happened at the game to just fade away to routine, not when it kept playing her
head. “So what are we going to talk about?” Hotaru asked. “I'm enjoying the
meal, but I'd still like to get done whatever it is you want.”
Matsuoka sighed. “Can’t we enjoy dinner?”
“Sorry, but no.”
Matsuoka nodded and held up a finger. “First off, you can leave at anytime. The
door’s open for a reason. You always have the option to just stand up and walk
out and you don’t owe us an explanation.”
“The metaphorical door is there too,” Yukimura said, staring at his food. “You
can leave the team too if you're not comfortable around us anymore.”
“Never,” Hotaru said, clutching her fist.
Yukimura smiled at her. “I’m glad.”
“So we need to establish something,” Matsuoka said, “We’re adults. We’re
supposed to be responsible.”
“We’re frequently not,” Yukimura said, drumming his chopsticks against the
plate. “But we’ve both been cruel to you in the past because you’re just a high
schooler, and you listen to adults.”
“I will make sure to not listen to you anymore.”
“Hotaru,” Matsuoka groaned.
“That is what you wanted, from what I can tell.”
“You’re not helping. I’m trying to establish a healthy environment for you, one
you feel you can leave without worry, and you’re being difficult!” He threw a
piece of chicken at Hotaru and it fell into her hair. He sighed. “Yukki, we can
try your way.”
Yukimura smiled a bit, clenched his fist, and nodded. “Alright.” He turned to
Hotaru, hand fidgeting like he wanted to cover his mouth and hide, but he kept
it on the table. “Tachibana, I’ve loved you ever since that day in my apartment
where you said that you admired me.”
Hotaru blushed and tried to focus on her food. She couldn’t look at him.
“I love Mattsun too.” Hotaru glanced up and saw Matsuoka’s face soften as he
looked at Yukki, like he was watching something precious and wonderful. “I love
you two differently. But I want to do the things I do with Mattsun with you.”
That seemed to be too much, and he covered his moth with his sleeve and looked
away from her. “If you'd have me. I know I'm creepy.”
She grabbed his shoulder. “You're not.”
“I know I'm into weird things.”
Well, she couldn't deny that.
“But I'd never do anything you weren't comfortable with. I'd never ask that of
you. Really, I'd just be happy if once a week, I could see you smile as we play
survival games.”
Words meant nothing. She had lost all knowledge of vocabulary, of expression.
All she could think, all she could form her world around, was an endless
repetition of “Yukimura”.
Matsuoka whistled and she remembered everything again. “Yukki, you should be a
host.”
“I'm a mangaka. I'm only good if I write it down.”
Matsuoka rubbed his chin. “Man, now I've gotta think of what I want to say…What
can top that?”
“You can't do it,” Yukimura said, looking smug.
Matsuoka took two more bites. When he spoke, his voice was soft, words
carefully falling out of his mouth, choosing each thought carefully. “You've
nearly punched me a couple of times. All of those times, you've flipped
whatever I expected of you on its head and left me in your dust. I didn't
expect to l-l-like you as much as I did.” Matsuoka's face was red. He looked at
Hotaru and turned redder. “It hurts, a bit. Caring this much. You’re a high
schooler. You're young and I'm old enough to really pressure you and hurt you.
You could move out at anytime and I’d never see you again. I think all of these
things every time I see you in order to make me stop feeling this way about
you. Hotaru,” he reached out and brushed her hair back, his thumb skimming a
hot mark against her red face, his eyes so blue and wide, “I don't want to hurt
you again. No matter how much stronger than me you are, I've already proven
that I could hurt you so badly. I don't want you to be coerced by this, I don't
want my feelings to decide yours. I just want you to understand that I'm
sincere.” Matsuoka looked like he was being torn apart, his face pink looking
at her with eyes so wide like he was afraid she'd just leave him.
Hotaru put her hand over Matsuoka's and leaned out of her chair and into him,
wrapping her other arm around his back. Matsuoka pressed his face into her
shoulder and pulled her against him. Yukimura’s chair screeched back and he
walked around them, behind Matsuoka. She felt Yukimura’s hands over Matsuoka’s
and on her shoulder, saw the wild waves of his hair visible between Matsuoka's
shoulder blades. She pressed a kiss to Matsuoka’s head and he tilted his head
to do the same to her neck. “Thank you, Matsuoka.”
Matsuoka pulled back and Hotaru followed. Yukimura’s hand slid off of her
shoulder, but remained linked in Matsuoka's fingers. He moved his head to rest
on Matsuoka's shoulder and watch the both of him as Matsuoka took a deep breath
and spoke, voice somehow level. “I've felt this way since you hugged me on the
field.”
Hotaru nodded, not because she knew that, but because she couldn't trust her
throat to work. She swallowed, cleared her throat, looked up into their
expectant faces, then pointed at her half eaten food. Yukimura smiled at her.
“It's okay. Take your time.”
They went back to eating while Hotaru gathered her thoughts, trying not to get
distracted and fall into the pitfalls of “I'd just be happy if once a week, I
could see you smile” and “It hurts, a bit. Caring this much”.
She was nearly finished eating when she spoke again. “I'm sorry. You have these
concrete feelings and I don't.” She spread around the food on her plate,
evening it out. “I—I've been dreaming about you for a while. And at first it
was platonic, just us together. But then it started to focus more on touching
and it became a nightly occurrence. But I still saw it as just an odd
representation of friendship. Kanae, my friend, was the one who pointed it out
to me that it was romantic, that I had a crush you. But until I saw you two
kiss, I didn’t believe her. And then I realized that I loved you.” She
scratched her cheek and glanced over to Yukimura. He was hiding his mouth and
his cheeks were pink, but his eyes were squinty like he was grinning. She
relaxed and smiled a bit, letting herself laugh awkwardly. “Which was a bit
inconvenient. I thought that I had realized something and then lost it. I guess
I haven’t?”
Yukimura nodded. He seemed to expect her next question and started talking.
“Mattsun and I have talked about this before. I said that Mattsun can date
other people if he wants to, he just has to tell me so I know. But in the end,
I was the one who asked if I could date you. And then Mattsun said he wanted
that too.” Yukimura looked away then and lowered his hand, slowly meeting her
eyes again. “We both want to date you. So if you want to date the two of us,
you can.”
Kanae did say she shouldn't settle for one when there was the possibility of
two. And her dreams certainly seemed to be interested in the idea. “I want to.
But, I don’t know how good I’d be. I’ve never dated before. I don’t understand
my own feelings.”
Yukimura laughed a bit. “We’re men who play survival games. We’re not the most
mature either.”
And then she smiled and laughed, feeling the air lighten around her. The world
fell into place. It wasn't ajar in the first place, but something settled and
yes, the way the world was moving was perfect right now.
Yukimura slowly moved his hand and covered her hand with his. It stayed there
for a second before he nudged her fingers apart and slipped his fingers into
the gap. Matsuoka slid his arm around the back of her chair and cupped her
shoulder, watching her carefully as he rubbed. She nodded and smiled at him,
then looked back at her food. Her feet couldn’t stop tapping against the floor
and she felt like if she didn’t move, she’d burst. Her grin was making her
cheeks hurt. “I can't believe this isn't a dream.”
“So what are these dreams even about?” Matsuoka asked, and he started to grin
widely as she shook her shoulder. “You’ve got to tell us.”
She remembered her dream last night, a scene inspired by Yukimura’s manga, with
her on her hands and knees and Yukimura’s hands running down her back. She
turned red and shook her head.
Matsuoka smile only grew and he leaned in. “Aw come on. Is it dirty?”
Hotaru nodded.
Yukimura chuckled and rubbed his thumb against Hotaru’s hand. “Did my manga
help?”
Hotaru scratched her cheek and laughed awkwardly. “Well, it was certainly one
part…”
Matsuoka just squeezed her shoulder and waited for a response. Yukimura was
more subdued in his enthusiasm, but smiling nonetheless. She was used to
Matsuoka’s teasing, but she wasn’t used to Yukimura looking at her so fondly,
ready to drink up her words like how he so often hung off of Matsuoka's.
“Well…see…remember after the two of you kissed in the field…well, the walls are
thin in the apartments.”
In the course of a sentence, they went from happy, to confused, to completely
embarrassed.
“I…may have listened in.”
Matsuoka covered his mouth, bright red.
“And then masturbated to it.”
Silence.
“And that influenced the dreams and transitioned them to that subject.” She
coughed and couldn’t look at any of them. “I’m sorry. If you are uncomfortable,
the door is open and you can leave at any time.”
Yukimura covered his mouth and laughed. “I didn’t expect you to be such a
pervert. Tachibana, you’re the naughtiest warrior of justice.”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t mind. Mattsun always had to be convinced to be quiet. He seemed to
want you to hear him.”
Hotaru looked over at Matsuoka. He was biting his finger, cheeks pink. Oh.
“Damn it, Hotaru,” he said, half groaning. “You can't just say something like
that. You can't.” He lowered his hand and turned in his seat to face her. His
eyes were bright except for the dark black of his pupils. Hotaru shifted
towards him and fought the urge to shiver. “Hotaru, may I kiss you?”
Instead of speaking, she leaned up and kissed him, tugging Yukimura so he'd
follow. As Matsuoka kissed her—softer than on the field, with just his
fingertips touching her cheek—Yukimura slid his hand up her arm. His cold
fingertips tingled her skin, chilling the warmth that the brush of his sweater
gave. Matsuoka pulled back slowly, his lip slipping against hers. For a couple
seconds, his eyes stayed closed, then he slowly opened them. They stared at
each other for a few seconds, Yukimura's fingers rubbing a pattern against her
neck. She smiled at him and he flattened his palm against her cheek.
“Mattsun,” Yukimura said and Matsuoka leaned in and kissed Yukimura over
Hotaru's shoulder. Hotaru tilted her head and watched them kiss, watched them
move against each other. It was even more exhilarating watching them now,
knowing that she was a part of this, of them. They pulled back and Yukimura put
his hand on Matsuoka's cheek, resting their foreheads together for a brief
moment and Matsuoka chuckled. Yukimura slid his head off of Matsuoka and buried
his face into her neck. Hotaru froze as his lips ran across her skin.
Matsuoka glanced at her face and said “Chrysanthemum,” and Yukimura pulled away
abruptly, like a dog being yanked on his leash. “Hotaru, are you okay? You
looked uncomfortable.”
She nodded.
Matsuoka raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
She hesitated. “I just wasn't expecting it. Yukimura's manga didn't have
anything like that.” There usually wasn't much of anything leading up to the
sex. Just a lot of talking. And weird things.
“Foreplay isn’t really a thing in manga,” Yukimura admitted. “Sorry.”
“We have a safe word,” Matsuoka said, rubbing her cheek. “If you aren’t
comfortable with anything, you can just say chrysanthemum, and we’ll stop
immediately.”
“Just ‘stop’ works too, though we’re used to chrysanthemum,” Yukimura added. He
started rubbing her shoulder. “I mean, the safeword is mostly used in
situations when we roleplay, but they can easily be used like this.”
Hotaru nodded and turned to Yukimura. She had a feeling that’d be their
relationship a lot, turning from one person to another. She stared into his
eyes and nodded. “Alright. I’m ready for you. Go ahead.”
Matsuoka groaned a bit as Yukimura pressed his lips to her neck again.
“Hotaru,” he said, running his fingers through her hair, gently gripping so
she’d tilt her head back. Yukimura kissed over to her throat and she shivered,
reaching out to grab Yukimura’s sweater. It was weird to be kissed somewhere so
delicate, but she liked it, liked the gentle press of Yukimura’s lips, liked
the feel of his hair under her chin. And through it all, Matsuoka’s voice.
“Hotaru, you’re going to have to tell us when you want us to stop, because if
you don’t, I’m going to want to keep going.”
She wished she could tell him that she was fine with that, that she wanted to
drown in the space of warmth between their bodies, but Yukimura flicked his
tongue out against her pulse and she jumped and yelped. “Not good?” Yukimura
asked, trying very hard not to look smug.
She shook her head, felt Matsuoka's fingers reposition themselves in her hair.
“Keep going.”
“But what if I want to kiss you?” he asked, shifting forward and putting his
hands on her knees. He was slouching a bit, so they were eye level. His black
eyes normally were usually guarded, not showing any emotion. If she wanted to
know what was going on, she had to focus on his face, and that made his eyes
soften. But right now, his eyes were so bright, so playful, so focused on her.
“What are you going to do then?”
She flushed deeply and Yukimura smirked. She wanted to say something, but she
couldn't think of a response. She wanted to grab him and kiss him, but she
couldn't bring herself to move. It was always hard to visualize the things she
heard through the wall and connect them with the person she knew. Yukimura was
never really shy, but he was docile, following Matsuoka's lead with quiet
reverence. In sex, he was talkative, actively taking and molding the encounter,
saying things she didn't expect him to say without hiding his mouth. She
couldn’t react when it was directed at her and he just looked so smug at that.
Yukimura leaned forward and then past her to kiss Matsuoka instead. She watched
as Yukimura kissed him, realized she could see when he slipped his tongue into
Matsuoka's mouth before he moaned breathlessly, and she glared. Yukimura pulled
away, nipping Matsuoka's lip as he sat back down in his chair. “Well, Tachi—”
Hotaru stood up and pushed their lips together. And pushed her teeth against
his lip. He hissed, and pulled back enough to separate their lips, but no
further, her hair dipping down against his nose. “Teeth,” he muttered.
“Sorry.”
“If you use teeth, be gentle and teasing.” Yukimura leaned in and started their
kiss again, slowly. He pulled back enough to breathe out a chuckle against her
lips. “At least, until I want to bleed.”
She felt a tingle down her spine and grabbed at Yukimura’s sweater, pushing
back into his soft lips. Matsuoka's hands ran down her back and back up again
as Yukimura moved closer, moving his tongue into her mouth. It was a slow
process, winding and rubbing and Yukimura hummed contently against her lips as
she matched his motion. Matsuoka leaned in and spoke into Hotaru’s ear. “Yukki
likes it slow, but you don’t have to move that slowly if you don’t want to.”
She shivered and moved closer, almost in his chair now. Matsuoka moved her hand
from Yukimura’s sweater to his head and she kept her hand flat. “Hold on to his
hair. Pull gently.” She did and Yukimura gasped into her mouth. She pushed her
tongue against him and into his mouth. That was what Matsuoka did before to
her. Yukimura moaned and grabbed her shoulders, trying to pull her even closer
and she spread her legs so she could move towards her. “Hotaru, I’m going to
move you, is that alright? You’d be more comfortable on Yukimura’s lap.”
Hotaru didn’t want to pull away, so she just pushed against Yukimura and he
moaned helplessly and grabbed at the back of her shirt. Matsuoka nudged her
legs forward, cupping her thighs and sliding his hands down to her knee. She
wasn't sure if she was even kissing Yukimura or if she was just gasping into
his mouth. Either way, Yukimura was certainly enthusiastically kissing her as
Matsuoka gingerly lifted her leg and pressed it along the warmth of Yukimura's.
Matsuoka rubbed her knee before lifting her other leg up and leaving her on
Yukimura's lap.
She was still shivering, gripping the top of the chair, her eyes closed as she
breathed heavily. Yukimura's fingertips rubbed at her jaw, waiting for her. But
it was hard to regain her footing when Matsuoka's hands were in her hair,
everyone so warm against her. She eventually opened her eyes to find Yukimura
staring up at her. He smiled and Hotaru couldn't stop looking at his swollen
lips. “Over stimulated?”
“I just need to catch—”
“It's fine.”
She focused on Yukimura and swallowed, on how he looked looking up at her.
Looking up. That was different. She was taller than him on his lap. His face
was brighter like this, without the shadows of his hair over his face. He
seemed happier from that angle. “Is this what it's like?”
Yukimura raised an eyebrow.
“Looking down on me?”
“Well I hope I'm not usually that red. Or panting. I have more control than
Mattsun.”
Matsuoka grabbed Yukimura's nose and shook his head from side to side. “Shut
up, Tooru.”
“Mattsun, no Mattsun, that's my nose, Mattsun.”
Hotaru laughed at them, leaning back into Matsuoka’s chest. It was amazing how
little they changed, how such a heavy and sexual situation could just switch
back to their banter, to their friendship. Yukimura glanced at her, one eye
open. She paused and pushed Matsuoka's hand away, leaning in close, staring
into Yukimura's eyes. “Tachibana?”
“It's amazing how big your pupils are.” She stared and pulled back. “Sorry, I
just noticed. Sometimes I can really clearly see them, and other times they
fade into natural color of your eyes. But they're very big right now. They look
nice.”
Yukimura was silent. Maybe she said something wrong. She tried to correct
herself.
“You know how sometimes during a new moon, you can see where it should be in
the sky because it's slightly darker. That's what your eyes look like right
now.”
“Can I be less gentle with your neck, Tachibana?” He finally moved and pressed
his lips to the side of her neck. She saw Matsuoka wind his fingers into
Yukimura’s hair and he leaned into Matsuoka’s hand and looked up at her. “I've
been so nice, but I want to bite and suck and leave a mark. Can I do that?”
She flushed and nodded.
“He does have to go to school,” Matsuoka said as Yukimura scraped his teeth
against her neck. “Mark below his collar.”
“But he'll be so popular with the girls,” Yukimura complained, then licked a
long line up her neck and nipped her jaw.
“He already has a girl hanging off his arm. We don't want to make her jealous.”
“You're wrong,” Hotaru said, grabbing Yukimura's sweater, feeling Yukimura's
lips twist against her neck. “I don't have a girlfriend. I only have you two.”
Matsuoka leaned into the other side of Hotaru's neck and mouthed her skin. She
grabbed Yukimura's legs and moaned as Yukimura bit the side of her neck while
Matsuoka's tongue traced patterns over her pulse. She could barely keep track
of what they both were doing, only able to focus on one moment at one time
before the other would distract her again with something new. Yukimura slid his
hands up her legs, along the back of her thighs to cup her butt and she gasped
and then Matsuoka skimmed his hands over her back, then rubbed her sides before
one hand went over her stomach. She grabbed their hair, biting her lip and only
making small noises, too embarrassed to let herself make any other sound,
though she knew that they both could tell by how her chest heaved and how she
squirmed under their touches.
Yukimura sucked at the base of her neck and squeezed her butt at the same time
and she moaned loudly, felt Matsuoka grin and chuckle at the noise. She
struggled her voice. “Cris-c-c-chris—”
They both pulled back, Matsuoka taking a couple steps back and Yukimura leaning
back in the chair as far away from her as he could get. She got off of
Yukimura's lap and marched out of the room, down the hall, to the outside door.
She closed the door and locked it before she walked back into the room. They
were both sitting, and looked up, as if surprised that she was still there.
“Hotaru…” Matsuoka started.
“Sorry,” Hotaru started, clearing her throat. “Sorry. I remembered that the
door…the door was open. I got loud there, and I didn't want to get louder while
anyone could hear.”
They continued staring at her, still and stiff limbed.
She scratched her head and looked down. “Sorry…again. I think the…um…bed. Would
be more comfortable anyways. I think.”
“You don't have to apologize so much, Tachibana,” Yukimura said, shoulders
relaxing. “I…we just thought we did too much and scared you.”
“You didn't. I enjoyed it.” She waited for them to move, but they stayed
seated.
Matsuoka looked at her across the room. “So you're fine with this still? With
us, with everything?”
She nodded vigorously. “Of course. Even if I didn't, you've proven that you can
stop. I trust you. With all of me.” She clutched at her shirt over her chest.
Yukimura stood up and walked over to her, wrapping her in a hug. She wound one
arm around him, rubbing his chest with the other hand. “Thank you, Hotaru.”
She kissed his hair. “Oh, the food is still out.” She pulled out of Yukimura's
grip. “I'll put that away for us.”
She started walking towards the table but Matsuoka, having apparently started
meandering towards them during the hug, grabbed her hand. “Don't.”
“But the food—”
He kissed her knuckles slowly, two seconds for each knuckle. “Don't,” he
repeated. He ran his lips over her fingers, not really kissing, but simply
touching.
It was so sweet, she almost felt dirty that it made her heart beat so fast and
made her so eager. “Matsuoka…”
“Masamune,” he said, nuzzling her palm and kissing the callouses. “I think
we're close enough to be on a first name basis.”
She flushed and shook her head. Somehow, that felt like too much too fast.
“No?” He kissed her wrist. “I suppose we can get even closer.” He kissed up her
arm until his nose was pressed into her elbow. He looked up at her, eyes so
blue and bright and so eager and wanting and she couldn't breathe. She
understood now why Yukimura followed him so eagerly because that look made her
want to do anything for him. “Come to my bedroom, Hotaru.”
“Yes. Please.”
Yukimura took her other hand and they led her through the apartment. Even
though it was the same setup as hers, there was a bit of a thrill at each door
she passed before Yukimura opened up the bedroom. Matsuoka’s bedroom wasn’t too
different from hers, not as fancy as she expected except for the bright red
sheets. “I’ll need a bigger bed,” Matsuoka said, sitting down, tugging Hotaru’s
hand. “It’ll be a tight cuddle if you stay the night.”
Hotaru sat down, sinking into the mattress. It was softer than hers. “That’s
fine. I can sleep anywhere.”
Yukimura sat on her other side and rested his head against hers. “We might not
be sleeping much.”
She blushed and Yukimura kissed her cheek and pulled back to look at her. But
he did nothing else, like he was waiting. She looked at Matsuoka and saw him
staring too. She realized that they were waiting for her to make the first
move, to prove she was comfortable. It was nice, but Hotaru had no clue as to
what that entailed with one person, let alone on two eager men. She looked down
at her legs. “I…don’t know what to do,” she admitted. She knew that there were
steps above kissing and beneath sex, but that was just a blur.
Yukimura just chuckled and rubbed her hand. “That’s fine. That’s what we’re
here for.”
But that didn’t make her feel better. She didn’t want to be passive, but she
didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t just blindly throw herself into the
motions like she did with everything else. Her enthusiasm meant nothing without
direction. “Wouldn’t you rather have someone more…talented? Someone who knows
what they’re doing? Someone—” and then Matsuoka pressed his fingertips to her
mouth, gently shushing her.
“I don’t want a good lay,” Matsuoka said, brushing hair behind her ear. “I want
you. No matter what that entails.” He gripped her hair and kissed her. She
leaned forward into his kiss and it didn’t take him long for him to deepen the
kiss, to bite her lip. Yukimura ran his hands down her sides and moved his legs
up on the bed, knees pressing into her butt.
“You can touch him,” Yukimura said into her ear. She shivered and felt Matsuoka
smirk as he slipped his hand behind Hotaru’s neck. “He likes being touched.”
She blushed and reached her hand up to his neck. He moaned against her lips and
kissed slower, letting the movements drag on. She rubbed her thumb against his
neck, moving up to his pulse. He moved to her neck, and Hotaru let her eyes
open so she could watch her hand move up his jaw and along his ear. She wasn’t
sure what she was doing, she just wanted to touch. It was amazing that she was
allowed to, that she was free to run her hands through his hair and he’d preen
under her touch. She gasped as he ran his lips over her ear and moved her hands
down his back. He moved his arms and reached behind her. Yukimura gasped and
she watched and felt Matsuoka's shoulders move as he touched Yukimura, lost in
the rolling of his muscles. She knew he was strong, saw him with his sleeves
rolled up and muscles glistening with sweat. But it was different to be this
close, to see his arms move, to feel how firm his back was.
He licked a spot on her neck and blew on it. She shivered and fisted his shirt,
pressing her legs together. Matsuoka pulled back and smirked and she reached up
and held his face, rubbing her thumbs along his jaw. Yukimura pressed against
her back and reached out to run his fingertips over his neck. She heard him
whisper “Mattsun,” as he tilted his head to rest against hers.
“Damn, I can't handle you two. You touch too gently. I'm not going to break.”
He sat back and out of their grip as he gripped the edge of his shirt.
“But you deserve it, Mattsun.”
Hotaru couldn't think of anything because Matsuoka was pulling his shirt over
his head. Her dreams always seemed to glaze over this part, this detail she
didn't see. She didn't know where to look because he kept shifting and the
movements of his muscles were so captivating. Yukimura took her hand, guiding
it to Matsuoka's chest, pressing it flat over his heartbeat. Yukimura's other
hand reached over, and she watched him run his fingertips across his
collarbone. His hand slid lower, and she felt the rise and fall of his chest
increase, felt his heartbeat quicken. Yukimura’s fingers skimmed over his
nipple and his breath hitched. Hotaru let her hand move too, away from his
heartbeat. She would've been happy staying occupied with his that, but there
was so much more to touch.
She did what Yukimura did, skimming her fingertip over his nipple, then her
fingernail. He shivered and then jerked, his face bright red. “Hey—”
“What?”
He just blushed, then nodded. Hotaru moved her finger again, a slow circle
around, gradually moving smaller. It was something she liked on herself and she
hoped the same for Matsuoka. His eyes closed and he breathed heavier. “Good,
Hotaru.” Yukimura pinched and tugged on Matsuoka's nipple, and his back arched
towards Yukimura's hand and Hotaru ran her nail in a soft x over his nipple,
pushing her legs together as she did so. He was always loud in everything he
did, and she often heard him through her walls, but it was different to hear
him moan next to her.
“You two…” Matsuoka moaned and leaned forward, kissing her, then Yukimura, then
moved in like he was going to kiss her again, only stopping a couple inches
away. “I can’t handle you two.” He kissed her and pushed her back into
Yukimura’s chest. Yukimura pressed her back into Matsuoka’s arms, repositioning
his legs so that when he pulled her back into him, his legs were on either side
of her. As she pressed back, she could feel a bump, a hard press. She pushed
further, a bit confused and Yukimura groaned and pressed his face into her
shoulder, hips rocking back into her. Hotaru gasped. Oh right. That was a
thing.
“Is this fine?” Yukimura muttered.
Hotaru nodded. “Yes—It’s just—But.”
“Do you want me to keep going?”
“Yes.”
Matsuoka was kissing over her face in neck, climbing over her legs so he was
closer, to push her against Yukimura’s chest and rocking hips. Hotaru pulled
her legs up a bit and brushed against Matsuoka’s crotch, against the hard
weight of his erection. He jerked but didn’t move, pulling back to watch her.
“Everything,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around Matsuoka’s shoulders.
“Please, please, I need you both, I need you not to stop.”
Yukimura tilted her head to the side and kissed her, pushing his tongue in her
mouth as he ran his hand over her waistband. Matsuoka kissed her ear, undoing
her pants so Yukimura could slide his hand over her underwear. She arched into
his hand and Yukimura made a small noise against her mouth before pulling away.
“Hotaru, you’re trans?”
“Ah, that makes sense,” Matsuoka said, pulling back, looking down at her
crotch. “That explains why you never wanted us near your chest.”
“You should’ve looked that up, Mattsun.”
“Ah, I really should’ve. I didn’t think about it. Sorry, Hotaru.”
Hotaru stared, mouth agape. She forgot to mention she was a girl, but she at
least hoped that they'd realize at this point (though good on them for being so
accepting—but still—). She shook her head. “No, I’m not a boy, I’m a girl, I’m
a girl!”
“No, it’s okay, Hotaru,” Matsuoka said, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to
worry, we’ll accept you,” and Yukimura nodded too, determined.
Hotaru shook her head. “No, you don’t understand, I’ve always been a girl. I’ve
never stopped. When you met me, Matsuoka, I was a girl in a boy’s uniform.
Yukimura, I was a girl walking out of a girl’s bathroom.”
Matsuoka’s smile faltered, beginning to fade, then came back twice as hard. “No
you’re not.”
“I am.”
Yukimura moved away, taking his hand out of her pants (she didn’t even realize
that he was cupping her crotch throughout all of that). When she looked over at
him, he was staring blankly at his hands.
Matsuoka's smile finally fell. “Yukki?”
“That explains so much…” He finally said. He must've been going through all of
their interactions, looking at it through the lens of “girl”. When Hotaru
looked over at Matsuoka, he had that same contemplative look, staring past her
instead of at her. He focused on her after a second, but that didn't help. He
was looking like he was meeting a stranger, almost guarded. When they met, he
was bright eyed and brighter smiled, flirting with her, holding her hand. They
were never strangers.
“You're…you're really a girl,” he said quietly, and she nodded. Matsuoka didn't
seem to know where to look. She thought she had ruined the mood before, but
this time she was sure. The electricity was gone and it was just awkward.
Hotaru shifted back on the bed until her back hit the wall. She looked at
Yukimura, his mouth covered again, tracing the pattern in the sheets with his
eyes. “I'm sorry,” she said to him, and he looked up, startled. “You mentioned
that you only like certain people. So I'm sorry that I didn't match up to your
image.”
Yukimura stared and crawled forward, reaching his hand out to her collar,
running his fingertip over the button of her shirt before looking up at her.
“Can I?” he asked, his voice quiet.
Hotaru nodded and he slipped the first button undone, then the second. He
spread the fabric apart and slid his fingers along the jut of her collarbone,
then raised his hands and undid her shirt. Yukimura was staring at her shirt,
not at the pink flush staining her chest as more skin was revealed. She wasn't
sure if she should be grateful for that or not.
Yukimura undid her shirt completely and let it hang. He stared at her skin,
then ran his hand down from her neck to her navel, his hand stopping at her
waistband. Behind him, Hotaru saw Matsuoka start, raising his hand before he
froze, just staring. Yukimura slid his hand back up her body with the back of
his hand, fingernails just grazing her. She shivered as his hand went up the
back of her neck, along her hairline next to her ear, then fell with his palm
against her cheek. He ran his thumb along the soft bags under her eye, and she
didn't blink, just kept her eyes on his as she shifted forward and slipped her
shirt off her shoulders and let it fall behind her. Yukimura broke her gaze and
looked down, his other hand moving up her side, so slowly, slowing even more
the closer he got to her breast. She was shivering, and she felt like she
should turn away, should hide her face or her chest because that's what girls
did in everything she read. But she kept staring at Yukimura, searching for a
reaction, demanding something from him. This is me, look at me, what do you
think of me?
Yukimura looked up at her, his thumbs moving slowly along her skin. “You're
Tachibana. That's why I love you.”
She licked her lips. “Even if I have small breasts?” It hurt to say, but she
knew Yukimura liked big breasts, at least the aesthetics of them and she barely
had anything.
Yukimura looked down at her chest and didn't respond. Then he raised his hand
and cupped her breast, squeezing then massaging. Hotaru bit her lip and forced
her eyes open, to keep looking at him. Yukimura ran his fingertips around her
breasts and looked up at her. “None of us have good breasts anyway.”
“Yukki!” Matsuoka started, snapping out of his daze. “You can't talk about a
girl’s breasts like that!”
“Why not? It's true. Breasts are gender neutral and all of ours are pathetic.”
“But you can't say that about a girl!” Matsuoka pushed Yukimura away. “Get your
hand away from her breast. You don't deserve them.” He sat in front of Hotaru,
looked down, flushed bright red, and looked horribly confused.
She let him stare for about thirty seconds before she cleared her throat. “Do
you know how to…”
“Of course.” He still didn't move.
“Then why…”
“Well, it's yours,” he said, finally reaching out to touch her, flattening his
hand over her heartbeat. Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away, just
stared at him. “You're one of the strongest people I know, Hotaru. No, I think
you are the strongest. And the fastest. It's terrifying fighting you when you
glare so passionately at me and I know that in a fist fight, I can't win. But
you're still soft, like here.” He ran his thumb over her nipple, and she had to
close her eyes and tilt her head back, biting back a moan. “It's you. And it's
so beautiful.”
She didn’t see him moving in until he wrapped his arms around her and pushed
their chests together. He was so warm, she didn’t even realize she was cold
before without his hands smoothing over the skin of her back, her arms. “What a
lovely body,” he whispered into her shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, Hotaru.
Every inch.” He kissed over to her neck and she felt his lips twitch up. His
fingertips slid down her spine, and she arched into his chest. “Can I show
you?”
“Yes, yes yes yes yes…”
Matsuoka pulled back and she leaned into the wall, shivering as Matsuoka’s
hands ran down to her hips and held them. She could’ve stared at how his hands
fit around her, but he leaned down and kissed her collarbone, then ran his
tongue along the bone. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her legs
together, focused on the feel of his lips and tongue tracking lower and lower.
“This is wonderful,” he whispered, sliding his hands up her side. “You’re
wonderful.” She looked down at him, at him kissing over her chest. “Don’t let
Yukki tell you otherwise.”
Hotaru laughed and rubbed his head while Yukimura complained in the background.
Then he licked her nipple and she gripped his hair. Her skin was hot, his touch
hotter, and she curled in on herself, breathing heavily. She could feel him
smiling against her skin, could feel him laugh against her skin. “You’re so
lovely.” He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “Don’t let
yourself think you’re worth anything less.”
She stared at him, felt his fingers run over her ribs, felt his heart beat from
where her hands rested on his back. She kept one hand there and moved the other
to his cheek, and smiled at him, smiled even wider when he kissed her. They
pulled back and she heard Yukimura suck in a breath. They looked over at him,
sitting with his legs crossed, mouth covered, but it couldn’t hide his pink
face. She pressed a kiss to Matsuoka’s jaw and pulled back. Hotaru turned to
Yukimura, tugging on his sweater. She grinned at him as Matsuoka kissed her
back. “You're next.”
Yukimura stiffened and looked away. “Are you sure?” he asked, and she could see
those walls riding up again.
“Yukki,” Matsuoka said softly. He crawled out from behind Hotaru and leaned
against his arm. “Yukki, you look great.”
Oh. Now she got it. Matsuoka was so good at making her feel good, he must've
had practice doing that.
“You two are so muscular, and fit.” He turned his head to the side and Hotaru
stared at his neck, at the tendons so visible in his thin neck. She was used to
seeing that covered with his scarf. He looked smaller, and she couldn't help
but notice how baggy his sweater was, how thin his ankles were. “I don't fit
next to you.”
Hotaru gave them both a quick look before she climbed onto Yukimura's lap,
leaning down to press her forehead against his, weaving her hands into his
hair. She stared at him until his eyes fluttered closed and he relaxed, running
his hands up her back to her shoulder blades. “It's embarrassing,” he
whispered, “and you two are stamina freaks. You should slow down and eat more
instant ramen so we're equal.”
Hotaru straightened up. “Or you could exercise more.”
“No.” He leaned forward and kissed her chest. “We're fine like this though. I
can still satisfy you like this.”
“That's not fair,” Hotaru grabbed Yukimura's shoulders and pushed him onto his
back. He made a small noise and stared up at her. His hands fell near his head
and she leaned down and grabbed his wrists. He took in a shuttering breath,
then seemed to have forgotten how to breathe altogether, only capable of
staring up at her. Good. “You get to have all of me. I should get all of you
too.”
“Yes,” he breathed out.
She squeezed his wrists and sat up so she could unbutton his shirt. “So give it
to me,” she said and he didn't move his hands, kept them there like he was
still pinned. Matsuoka leaned over her and ran his hands over Yukimura’s chest.
Yukimura arched into his touch and Hotaru was practically ripping his shirt
open because she wanted to cause that too.
Yukimura looked different than Matsuoka, and different from how she looked. He
was skinny, not quite skinny enough for his ribcage to show, but his hipbones
and collarbones were sharp under his skin. He wasn't muscular, too lazy for
regular exercise and diet too unhealthy. She supposed that it did make him less
attractive.
But this was Yukimura. She put her hand on his chest and felt his heart pound.
Yukimura clenched and unclenched his fists, still frozen in the same spot. She
dipped her head down and kissed between her thumb and finger. He let out a
breath and Matsuoka moved to the side and kissed him. “See, you had nothing to
worry about you're fine.”
Yukimura finally moved, grabbing Matsuoka's hair and kissing him and Hotaru
felt his moan exhale out of him more than she heard it. It was hard to only
focus on Yukimura when he and Matsuoka were making out above her, to not get
caught up in them, together, with her. She needed to give him the gentle praise
Matsuoka gave her. She kissed his nipples, ran her hands up and down his sides,
and when Matsuoka bit Yukimura's ear and he moaned, back arching, Hotaru slid
her hands underneath his spine and held him, pressing a kiss to his hip. She
glanced down and saw his erection straining against his pants. She sat up and
tugged at his clothes. “Sit up.”
He pushed against the bed and sat up and Hotaru pushed his clothes off his
shoulders. He was so pale, so skinny, his rail-thin arms immediately wrapping
around Hotaru, burying himself in her warmth. He pressed quick kisses up her
neck and breathed in her ear “I want to go down on you.”
“Yes. Please.”
Matsuoka crawled behind Hotaru and held her shoulder. “Here, lie back,” he said
and she laid back onto his lap. He smiled at her and brushed her hair out of
her face. “Just relax and talk to Yukki. He doesn't know what he's doing, so be
sure he makes you feel good.”
“Excuse me,” Yukimura said, hooking his fingers under her underwear and pulling
them and her pants down and off. “But I am an ero mangaka.”
“Oh my God Yukki that doesn't mean anything.”
Yukimura responded by throwing her pants and underwear at Matsuoka, who then
threw it across the room. She didn't need them anymore anyway. She spread her
legs a bit and Yukimura moved between them, his hands tracing up the back of
her thighs while he kissed along her knee. He kissed lower, nudged Hotaru's
legs further and further apart. Once again, foreplay she wasn't familiar with.
She didn't even really touched her legs when she masturbated, but his cold
fingers and warm lips felt amazing. She was trembling when Yukimura pulled back
and Matsuoka handed him lube and a small packet. She fisted the sheets and bit
her lip while Yukimura fussed with it, Matsuoka shushing her and flattening her
hair. “He’s got you, he’s got you, and you’re going to feel great.”
Yukimura nudged her legs apart. “How do you masturbate?”
Hotaru flushed. “Isn't that personal?”
“Yes.” He then softened and rubbed her leg. “I want to make this easy for you,
Hotaru.”
“Start gentle, just glance along the sides.”
Yukimura spread a thin sheet of latex over her, then ran his finger up her
labia, following the other side with his tongue. She gasped and squeezed her
legs together, Yukimura nudging them apart again. He teased her with the tip of
his tongue, along her labia, moving up to her clit before ducking away. It felt
good, moving different from her finger, more focused, more draggy. She wondered
if it'd feel different without the latex barrier, or if she'd be too wet to
notice how his tongue felt. “More,” she breathed out and Yukimura slid the flat
of his tongue all the way up. She dug her heels into the bed and arched her
back. Yep, far better than a finger. Yukimura chuckled. He tilted his head and
she saw how bright his eyes were before his tongue ran up her again.
She was finding it really hard to focus. She could barely tell what Yukimura's
mouth was doing against her, only that it felt good. Sometimes, it was like
kissing and then his tongue was against her. Matsuoka's hands were just pushing
her hair back at first, then they started to roam over her neck, her chest, her
arms and she shivered. Matsuoka kept commenting about how beautiful they
looked, but she couldn't think of anything specific he said, too focused on how
everything felt. Yukimura hummed against her in response to something Matsuoka
said and Hotaru grabbed his hair and held him there and dug her heels into the
bed, back arching. He stopped and Hotaru let her hips fall.
“That was fun,” Yukimura said, leaning into the hand still fisted in his hair.
“Can I do that again?”
Hotaru swallowed. “Don't do anything else.”
Yukimura hummed. Not against her clit. She glared at him. “I think I'll have to
do more than that.”
She gripped his hair and pushed him down and he moved, kissing her, licking
her, and she waited for him to start again, tense in anticipation. He circled
his tongue around her clit and then sucked gently. She arched towards him,
breathing quicker. She could feel pressure tightening in her stomach and she
dug her heels into the bed, rocking into his face. He moaned against her. She
had been trying her hardest to not squish his head between her legs, but when
her orgasm began building, she needed to keep him there, squeezed him as she
came, to keep his mouth on her. She didn’t make a sound when she came,
everything caught in her throat as she trembled. She sank down into the
mattress, breathing heavily. Yukimura gave her a last, long lick, and her legs
stuttered. He moved up her body and kissed over her face. She could only
breathe heavily against him, waiting for the heavy haze to clear.
She raised her hand and rubbed his cheek. “Yukimura,” she breathed, and he
nuzzled her palm. He smiled at her and she pulled him down to her lips. “That
was so good, Yukimura…”
“I really want you to sit on my face,” Yukimura said fondly.
“Wouldn’t it be hard to breathe?” Hotaru said, slowly.
“Yeah,” Yukimura sighed, then kissed her again. He pushed up and kissed
Matsuoka. She watched as the two of them kissed, mesmerized by the movement, by
how Yukimura melted into his touch and how Matsuoka moaned softly. Yukimura
pulled away. “Told you,” Yukimura smirked. “Ero mangaka.”
Matsuoka bit Yukimura’s lip and tugged before pulling away. “Shut up. Lie
down.”
“Mattsun,” Yukimura said as he was pushed down onto his back, next to Hotaru.
She turned her head and watched Matsuoka kiss down his body.
“How does a blowjob sound, Tooru?”
“Yes, Mattsun.”
Yukimura wound his hands into Matsuoka’s hair, watching him. Matsuoka kissed
his hip while he undid his pants. Hotaru pushed onto her elbows, watching them,
watching Yukimura’s pale skin slowly get revealed, watching Matsuoka’s nose
buried in Yukimura’s crotch as he mouthed his dick through his underwear. They
looked so good together. They knew what to do and did it effortlessly,
Yukimura’s hands threading into Matsuoka’s hair as he pulled his briefs down
and oh that was a dick. Matsuoka pulled away to get a condom and Hotaru could
really see it.
Kinda weird looking, heavy on his stomach and leaking a clear liquid. But when
Matsuoka held Yukimura in his hand and slid the condom down, Yukimura gasped
and his hand twitched and Hotaru only wanted to do the same to him. Matsuoka
ran his tongue up Yukimura and Hotaru licked her lips. Matsuoka looked over at
her and grinned before taking Yukimura into his mouth, keeping eye contact with
her. Yukimura gasped and arched into Matsuoka’s mouth and he pushed down on his
hips, his thumb tracing over the jut of the bone.
She wanted to do that too, sometime. She was content watching him, but she
wanted to run her tongue over his skin, make him gasp and moan. They both
looked so wonderful. “Hotaru,” Yukimura gasped, looking at her. He reached his
hand out to her and she took it. He pulled her in and kissed her, gasping and
moaning into her mouth. Hotaru ran her hand over Yukimura’s chest as she kissed
his face. He kept moaning “Mattsun, Mattsun” and occasionally “Hotaru” while he
squeezed her hand.
“You two look so good,” Matsuoka said. Hotaru glanced at him. He was licking
the side of Yukimura’s cock, kneading his balls. “You’re being so distracting.
How am I supposed to work under these conditions?”
“Mattsun please.”
Matsuoka smirked at him before sinking back down onto Yukimura’s dick. Hotaru
kissed Yukimura and he gasped into her mouth, squeezing her hand as he went
rigid, then limp. She kissed over his face while he breathed heavily, still
holding her hand in a tight grip. While she was kissing his cheek, Matsuoka
kissed her hair. She pulled back and watched Matsuoka kiss Yukimura, his hand
finally letting hers go to grip Matsuoka’s hair. They pulled away and Matsuoka
was beaming at him. “Well, now Tooru’s useless.”
“Mattsun…” Yukimura groaned, wrapping his arms around his neck and burrying his
face into his hair.
“He has no stamina.”
Hotaru stroked Yukimura’s hair. “So what does that mean? You can’t do anything
after you come?”
Yukimura nodded against Matsuoka’s neck.
“That’s disappointing. I wanted to have sex with you.”
Yukimura pulled back and looked at her. “There’s…going to be other times.”
Hotaru smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess it’s Matsuoka’s turn now.” He
looked strained in his leather pants.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Matsuoka said, sitting back away from
Yukimura, who rolled on his side. “If you’re not comfortable, I’m fine like
this.”
It was really sweet how gentle he was being. She put her hand on his crotch and
squeezed. He stopped talking and moaned, biting his lip. “I really want to. So
let me.”
He nodded and she kissed him, squeezing and rubbing his crotch. She wasn’t sure
what to do, how much pressure to put on it, but Matsuoka was moaning into her
mouth, rocking into her hand, so she figured it was good. His hand slid up her
leg, along her thigh and she shivered, moving closer into his lap. Her fingers
caught on his button and she undid it. She tugged at his pants and they slid
and then stayed. She pulled back and glared at his pants and tugged again.
Matsuoka made a really tiny giggling sound which would’ve been adorable if it
wasn’t for the fact that his pants weren’t cooperating.
“Help.”
“But you’re really cute like this.”
Hotaru bit his neck, not too hard, but just to get the point across. Matsuoka
only laughed more and moved Hotaru off his lap so he could shimmy out of his
pants. Hotaru licked her lips, watching his legs, then at his crotch, still
under a pair of tight boxer briefs. “Those will have to go too.”
“You sure? Because I could keep them on. There’s a lot of things we could do.”
His boxers came off a lot easier than his pants did. She wadded it up in a ball
and threw it across the room. She put her hands on his thighs and spread them a
bit, to look at him before she slid the back of her fingers up his length. He
gasped and his hips twitched. She touched him slowly, gently, getting the
general feel of it. Matsuoka watched her, and she kept glancing at him to see
if she was moving fast enough, but he just looked amazed that she was touching
him at all. She held him loosely in her fist and ducked her head down.
“Whoa, whoa,” Matsuoka grabbed her head. “What are you doing?”
“Wasn’t this what you wanted?”
“I mean, it’s pretty great but I was kinda hoping…” He flushed and laughed. “I
mean…like…inserting.”
“Oh, okay. I like that.”
Hotaru pulled him into another kiss, moving onto his lap. Their tongues wound
together, his hands skimming along her skin. He was running his fingers along
her thighs, sometimes pressing harder, sometimes gripping. It was hard to keep
kissing him when he kept making her gasp. She licked his lip and pulled back
and moved to his neck. “Tooru,” Matsuoka said while Hotaru kissed his neck,
“make yourself useful.”
Yukimura groaned and shuffled along the bed. Hotaru muffled her giggles into
Matsuoka's neck. Matsuoka took what Yukimura handed him: a glove, a tube, and a
condom. He put the glove on and soaked his fingers in lube. “I know you're
eager, but I have to open you up first.” Matsuoka ran his fingers along her
thigh. She wished she could feel his warm skin instead of latex, but as he
gently pushed his finger inside of her, she supposed it didn’t really matter.
“You good?” he asked and she breathed into his neck, nodding furiously. He
moved his finger slowly, bending it and causing her hips to stutter. “You’re so
wet, it’s wonderful,” Matsuoka whispered to her, pushing a second finger inside
of her. He thrust his fingers into her, and she gasped as he opened her up,
scissoring and bending his fingers. “You’re doing so well, Hotaru, so well.”
Yukimura ran his hands up her back. “You should get on with it, Mattsun. I want
to see how good you two will look.”
“Please,” Hotaru muttered, moaning into his throat, rocking her hips down into
his hand. She needed more, needed to know how it would feel after dreaming
about it for so long.
“Just a bit longer, okay? I want to make sure it feels good for you. When three
fingers fit in there snugly, we’ll go.” He pushed a third finger in and she bit
his shoulder. Fingers were already too much, how would she react to his
erection? She was so excited, she couldn’t stand it. He pulled his fingers out
and sat her to the side while he put on his condom and more lube. “You ready?”
She straddled his hips and tried to sit down on him like she had seen people do
in Yukimura’s manga. She missed and he kinda just bumped against her. Hotaru
flushed while Matsuoka laughed. “I’m trying…”
Matsuoka was grinning and he bumped his forehead against Hotaru’s. “I’m sorry,
I’m sorry. Just…let me. Use my hands.” He took his length and rubbed the head
against her before pushing inside of her. Yep, a lot different from fingers.
She sucked in a breath, feeling herself being spread and filled. “You okay?”
Matsuoka asked and she nodded and pushed his hands back so she could sink down
onto him. He groaned and buried his face into her neck. “Hotaru…” She put her
hands on his shoulders, breathing deeply. It wasn’t bad, new and awkward, but
not bad. It didn’t hurt either. She breathed in and moved up, moaning as she
dragged over his length, then pushed back down.
Matsuoka leaned in and licked her neck. His hand dipped down between them,
rubbing her clit. Her legs trembled and she gripped his hair, keeping him
pressed against her. He grabbed her shoulders and held her, rocking his hips up
into her, trying to keep pace with her erratic thrusts. And then there were
Yukimura's hands and lips on her back, his warm, heavy breath.
“M-Masamune…” Hotaru moaned and he dug his nails into her shoulders when he
thrust a couple of times and stilled. He licked her neck, thumb moving against
her clit until her moans caught in her throat and she stilled. She breathed
heavily as both Matsuoka and Yukimura kissed her skin. Her head was swimming
and her limbs were shaking as Matsuoka lifted her off his lap. She thought she
saw him remove the condom before he pulled her back to his chest. They held
each other for a while.
When Masamune spoke, his breath was heavy. “How—how do you feel?”
“Great. Really great.”
“You feel alright?”
She nodded. “Sore, but I’m used to that.” She nuzzled his neck, felt Yukimura's
fingers tracing up her spine. “I'd like to get used to this.”
Matsuoka kissed her shoulder and she felt him smile against her skin. “I…really
am glad. Now.” He patted her back and pulled away, looking serious. “Go pee. If
you get a UTI, you'll be useless at training.”
Hotaru groaned and reluctantly pulled away. She kissed Yukimura's head as he
crawled over to fill the space she left. “I'll be back,” she promised, and the
two of them grinned.
She dampened a towel while she was in the bathroom and washed some of the sweat
off, so she wasn't nearly as disgusting. She enjoyed the naked cuddles, but she
was starting to stick. She opened the bathroom and saw Yukimura leaning against
the wall, not wearing his glasses but wearing Matsuoka's sweats. It hung too
loose and low on his hips to belong to anyone else. He looked up at her and his
eyes softened as he smiled. Hotaru walked into his arms and he hugged her,
resting his chin on her head. “Are you staying the night?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. I just want a quick shower, then I'll crawl in with you two.”
It was such a simple conversation, but she couldn't help smiling and kissing
Yukimura’s cheek. They were a thing now, so easily and effortlessly together.
She walked back to the bedroom, where Matsuoka was sitting up, absently
smoking. He smiled at her as he snuffed out the cigarette. “You can put clothes
on,” he said as Hotaru sat down next to him, their naked legs touching. “Or
not.” He tugged on her arm until they laid back together, shifting so they were
lying side-by-side, head on the same pillow. With just the sound of the shower
running, Matsuoka started touching her. Gently, a trace of his fingertips along
the curve of her jaw. He ran his fingers over her face, her neck, down her arm,
pressing his palm down to cup her hip before tracing his fingertips up her
chest, stopping right in the center. The shower had stopped by then. She felt
pink all over. “You're really a girl.”
“Yes.”
The bathroom door creaked open. Matsuoka kept talking. “Why didn't you tell
us?”
“Because I didn't want to leave the team.” She put her hand over his and
squeezed. “I didn't want to leave you two.”
Yukimura sat down behind her. “Mattsun,” he said, voice serious.
Matsuoka looked conflicted, biting his lip. “I…I don't want Midori to hurt
you.”
“He can't.”
Matsuoka shook his head. “He likes to mess with me. He knows how I feel about
women. Hotaru, I'm not going to ask you to leave. I promised myself I'd let you
stay. But if Midori finds out—”
“He already knows.”
The two of them stiffened. “How?” Yukimura asked.
“He preformed a body check on me.”
Yukimura slammed his fist down on Matsuoka's nightstand. “Bastard!”
“But that doesn't matter,” Hotaru sat up, touching Yukimura’s arm.
“Of course it matters he touched you—”
“It doesn't matter.” She tugged his arm. Yukimura sighed and forced himself to
relax, lying down next to her. She grabbed both of their hands. “Back at TGC, I
couldn't hit Midori because he called me a liar and a girl. I hesitated, and I
got hit. He…he held that over my head, how I was lying to you.”
“Hotaru…”
“But that's all he can do to me. He can't hurt me now. You two know, and you
accepted me. I'm not lying anymore.”
Matsuoka squeezed her hand. “Alright. I'm not going to stop worrying, but I
worry for Yukki all the time. You're strong, Hotaru.”
Yukimura turned and pressed himself against her side. “I'll kill Midori for
you.”
“Metaphorically?” Hotaru asked.
“I will kill Midori for the two of you.”
Matsuoka sighed and rolled on his side. He wrapped his arm around the two of
them. “Alright. That's enough serious pillow talk. I want to get some sleep
tonight.” He kissed Hotaru's head. “How do you feel?”
“I couldn't be happier.”
She fell asleep between the two of them and woke up with Yukimura somehow on
top of them. Matsuoka sighed about how this always happens, and Hotaru asked if
he could cook breakfast for her before school. He sighed and got dressed, and
Yukimura convinced her to be incredibly unhelpful in the kitchen by groping
Matsuoka. He blushed, complained, and pinned Hotaru to the counter and sucked a
mark on her collar (after asking, of course, because he didn't want her to be
embarrassed about hiding it at school. She loved how it felt.). Yukimura
handled the pancakes, burned the pancakes, and had to eat them, since it was
clearly his fault. Hotaru ran to her apartment and got ready for school, and
both Yukimura and Matsuoka kissed her cheeks and wished her a good day.
Everything was right, how it should be, with their smiles and the promise to
see her later.
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you all so much for reading! This is the beginning of a smutty
     series (with a couple of serious ones) so look forward to that.
End Notes
     Please let me know if anything needs to be tagged! I'm still unused
     to tagging etiquette.
     Visit me on TwiExMachina and I might actually talk.
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