Chapter Text
Yoshino sighed and dropped her bag beside the door of the hotel room. She couldn’t get a moment to adjust before Kirishima and Shouma’s frosty demeanors made the room uncomfortable to be in. Gramps had ordered them to lay low and instructed the two men to keep her safe, something about bad blood boiling over between the families, but he hadn’t seemed to consider, or just didn’t care about, the bad blood between Kirishima and Shouma. The guys outright hated each other.
Shouma thought Kirishima was a vicious psychopath who had no business around Yoshino, which he was at least partially right about. Kirishima was jealous of her and Shouma’s relationship. They had been friends since she was a young girl, but Kirishima didn’t like how close they were and insisted there was more to their bond than they admitted. She didn’t know how true that was. When she’d asked Shouma about it the night he and Kirishima got into the knife fight in the park months ago, he’d mocked the idea, and she’d never given much thought to the nature of her relationship with Shouma until Kirishima questioned it. It always just felt natural being close to him. He was important to her.
She would be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed how much he had changed physically since they met as kids. But he didn’t treat her any differently, and seemed more than happy to pursue romantic relationships with girls of his own, so she had never assumed there was another avenue they would go down.
She still wasn’t sure where things were going with her and Kirishima. She had found it unlikely that she would end up falling for him and staying in Tokyo, but that weirdo had wormed his way into her heart, as much as she had tried to fight it. She had no intention of telling him that, though. He already had enough power over her. It would be terrible if he knew how much. He’d never let her go, and she still wasn’t sure if she should let herself go down that road. Also, importantly, if he couldn’t accept Shouma’s place in her heart, there’s no way they would work out.
It didn’t take long for the bickering to start. As soon as Yoshino sat down on one of the two queen beds, it kicked off World War 3 when Kirishima placed his own bag on the same bed. Shouma snatched it and tossed it on the ground. “You’ve lost whatever is left of your mind if you think you’re gonna share a bed with her.”
Kirishima smiled that sickly sweet smile of his that he gave when he wasn’t being genuine. “Now, now, Shouma. No need to keep the sore loser act going. She has to share a bed with someone. Shouldn’t it be her boyfriend?”
Shouma snarled. “Cut it out. You know damn well that hoping she’ll someday be crazy enough to marry a scumbag like you doesn’t mean shit. You ain’t her husband. Boss Somei would cut your shriveled dick off if he knew you were even trying to pull a stunt like this.”
Kirishima’s facade dropped, and he stepped into Shouma’s personal space. “Well, if you think I’d trust you in her bed, then you’re a bigger idiot than you look.”
Shouma clenched his fists. Yoshino had to cut them off before they wound up trying to kill each other again. “Alright, tough guys, how about neither of you share my bed?”
They both looked at her, openly horrified. It dawned on her that there were only two beds. If neither shared with her, that meant they would have to share a bed with each other. She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, you macho pricks! Would it be the end of the world if you had to sleep together?”
“He’s a guy!” they exclaimed together.
“UGH!!” Yoshino let herself fall back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling like the answer might be written there. If they refused to sleep next to each other and didn’t trust each other in her bed, they certainly wouldn’t accept one of them getting their own room. There would be enough beds for everyone to have their own, but then she would have less immediate protection, and then one of them would have her alone in the room, which would be even less acceptable.
“You idiots realize the only option you’re leaving us if you won’t let the other share with me alone, and you won’t share with each other, is for all of us to squeeze onto one bed together, right?” she deadpanned.
“That works for me,” Kirishima smiled. Yoshino scoffed and looked to Shouma to break the spiral of stupidity. “Better than the alternatives,” Shouma shrugged nonchalantly.
“Bunch of morons!” she exclaimed. Yoshino stood up and grabbed her overnight bag, storming into the bathroom in a huff. She showered and changed into her pajamas, dreading the awkwardness she was about to deal with. Once she emerged in her light gray, fitted t-shirt and shorts, Kirishima and Shouma had already changed into sweats and tees. They were lounging on the bed, both lying as far from each other as possible, Shouma on the left edge of the bed, Kirishima on the right.
Shouma was scrolling on his phone, while Kirishima had his arms stretched over his head, beaming at her. “Alright,” Kirishima called out brightly. “Let’s make this Yoshino sandwich!”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re disgusting,” she sniped as she turned off the lights and started crawling up into the middle of the bed between the two.
Kirishima chuckled. “You’re the one who suggested this, Yoshino. And mmm! The view of you crawling to me is seared into my memory now!”
Yoshino sat up on the bed and glared at him. “Knock it off. One more comment like that and your ass is gonna be sleeping on the floor, you got it?”
Shouma hadn’t said anything, but she could feel the irritation rolling off of him in waves. Kirishima needed to stop pushing his buttons. “I’d say he’s already earned that,” her friend chimed in on cue.
“Ohhh, c’mon, Yoshino!” Kirishima whined. “I promise to be on my best behavior. I’ll only touch you if you want me to!”
“You’ll keep your hands to yourself if you don’t wanna lose ‘em,” Shouma said, locking his phone and placing it on the bedside table. He reached up, grabbed Yoshino’s arm, and pulled her down onto the bed so that she lay on her left side facing him and a little closer to him than she was to Kirishima, though none of them had much in the way of personal space.
Yoshino sighed as Shouma drew the sheets up, muttering a goodnight lowly for her to hear. She smiled at him, settling into the pillow one of them had grabbed for her and not even caring that her wet hair was getting that wet as well. She tried to just shut her brain down and go right to sleep. Yoshino didn’t want to think about the highly inappropriate nature of sharing a bed with not one but two men. If anyone heard about this, there would be more than whispers. Her mind unwillingly conjured what folks would say happened. The image of a ‘Yoshino sandwich,’ as Kirishima had so eloquently put it, forced its way right to the front of her mind.
She blushed almost the same color as her hair. She would not let that thought set up camp in her head. She would not think about how she could already feel both of their bodies’ heat. She wouldn’t think about where else she could feel heat building at that moment. She certainly didn’t want to think about how much she regretted only packing such short little sleep shorts. She just wanted to go to sleep and hoped they would have the all-clear to go home when they woke up.
That was made difficult because she could practically feel Kirishima’s glare on her back. He probably took it as a slight that she’d stayed where Shouma put her and didn’t cuddle up to him. She didn’t have the energy to deal with his fragile ego, though, and she eventually did manage to drift off to sleep.
Something stirred Yoshino from her sleep. She was lying on her right side now. She must have shifted in her sleep. She felt something in her hair and a warm weight on her shoulder. Shouma’s wrist. His fingers were idly playing with the end of a lock of her hair. He used to do that all the time when they were kids, sliding her smooth hair between his fingers when he was lost in thought. His breath sounded deep and steady behind her, and the movement wasn’t consistent, just an infrequent twitch of the fingers. He must have subconsciously reached out to her in his sleep.
It took her back to a beautiful spring day on a bench when she had found Shouma ditching class and sat down to scold him, but he had only huffed a breath and taken up a strand of her hair, just fiddling with it and listening to her shout at him, completely unbothered. She bit her lip to suppress a small smile and sighed happily.
Her eyelids drifted apart slightly, then shot wide open when she was looking right at Kirishima’s murderous stare. His eyes were illuminated by the city lights that drifted in through the gap in the curtains. He wasn’t actually looking at her, but was locked on Shouma’s hand. Every time he twirled her hair, Kirishima looked more and more agitated.
Yoshino cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, but he didn’t look away. She tried again, louder, and his hand shot out to grip her throat, cutting off her gasp. His arm blocked his view of Shouma’s, and he raised his gaze to meet hers. His eyes flashed with danger. She was sure she had a decent idea of what was going on in his head. Shouma was touching what belonged to him, but that was a bogus line of thought. She didn’t really belong to him.
Sure, he was her boyfriend, and he was hot as hell and fanatically into her, but he only got the boyfriend title on a technicality, and he knew it! Well, he knew it, but did he know it? He sure wasn’t looking at Yoshino like someone who didn’t think he had any claim to her. Still, he was too riled up over something like that. Shouma was touching her hair. Big deal! Siblings touch each other’s hair. Parents touch their kids’ hair. It’s pretty innocuous.
It’s not like he’d grabbed her by the pussy or anything. That image popped into her head. What was wrong with her tonight? Yoshino closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to banish that thought and get Kirishima’s hand off of her throat. All she managed to do was earn a smirk from him.
Kirishima loosened his grip and started trailing his fingers downward, tracing her collarbone. Yoshino shivered. She shot him a look to cut it out. If Shouma woke up to Kirishima getting handsy, there would be blood.
“If you don’t want him to wake up and try to kill me,” Kirishima whispered. “You’ll have to keep quiet.”
Yoshino’s jaw fell in shock. Kirishima took the opportunity to pop his thumb into her mouth and grab her chin with his fingers. Her eyes widened at his audacity, and she tried not to gag as his thumb pushed past her tonsils into her throat. Kirishima rolled his eyes back. She knew exactly what he was imagining. No way in hell was he going to get that from her. Sure, it would probably be a lot of fun, but he would never let her live it down and would either get clingier than ever or decide she didn’t live up to his expectations and kill her. It wouldn't be worth it, right? She'd remind herself of that as many times as it took to keep her head on straight and shut him down.
If he thought he could play games with her to reassure his sick sense of ownership, she’d give him some blue balls for his trouble. Yoshino smirked, then closed her lips over Kirishima’s thumb and hollowed her cheeks, sucking on it and running her tongue around the digit. Kirishima was so startled he didn’t suppress his groan, and it was only a moment later before Shouma’s hand left her shoulder and snaked around her, pulling her even closer to him and forcing her to release Kirishima’s thumb from her mouth with a wet pop. She was sad to lose it, actually getting a kick out of making Kirishima drop his fake facade for a second.
Shouma froze at the popping sound. Kirishima smiled. Yoshino glared at him. Did he wake Shouma on purpose? She tensed when she looked down and saw Shouma’s arm still around her waist. She traced the prominent veins in his muscular forearm with her eyes, noting every scar that was obscured by the intricate patterns of his ink, and was surprised that she quite enjoyed the feeling of him holding her like this. She found herself wishing he would just pull her in all the way and stop leaving those respectful inches of air between them.
Kirishima, a devious glint in his eye that made her heart race, reached for her again but froze in midair when Shouma outright snarled, a sound that turned that heat that had been simmering down south from low to medium-high. She wasn’t surprised to be reacting to Kirishima. She figured from day one that if he ever got his hands on her, she would have a tough time telling him to hit the road, but the little gasp that slipped out of her when she heard Shouma make that sound while his arm tightened protectively around her torso was certainly not something she would have expected.
It also did not go unnoticed by Kirishima. His calculating eye scanned the scene in front of him, his chest starting to rise and fall more quickly as he took in Shouma’s almost possessive touch and Yoshino’s obvious reaction to it.
“The fuck did I tell you?” Shouma’s voice carried over her shoulder. It was rough and gravelly from sleep, and Yoshino buried her face in the pillow so Kirishima couldn’t see how she reacted to it. “Touch her again, and I start chopping off hands.”
Kirishima chuckled. Shouma started to slowly withdraw his arm, hoping that he got his point across this time, and Yoshino looked over, pouting slightly. She cursed herself when Kirishima, always watching, noticed right away. “I think the more relevant thing to remember is what I told Yoshino.”
Shouma stopped his withdrawal, sensing trouble, his wrist propped on her hip.
She made eye contact with Kirishima and realized what he was about to say and begged him with her eyes to shut the fuck up. He ignored her. “I told her that if she really did want to fuck you , all she had to do was ask!”
Shouma’s hand grabbed her hard. “What the fuck, Kirishima?” she shouted, her voice sounding too loud and too high-pitched to her own ears.
“The hell is he talking about, Yoshino?” Shouma whispered by her neck, the feel of his breath on her skin making her shiver. Kirishima licked his lips, watching her with hooded eyes that made him look like temptation incarnate. She didn’t know if she wanted to kill him or climb him like a tree. “Yoshino?” Shouma’s demanding voice pulled her back.
“It-it’s stupid!” she stuttered.
He forced her onto her back and leaned over her, caging her in with his hands propped on either side of her. He looked her dead in the eyes. “Tell me.”
Yoshino groaned and covered her face with her hands. “When you guys met, and he was super insecure about how close we were but wouldn’t admit it, I asked him what he would do if I told him you and I were together. He said he’d be fine with that, that we could… do whatever… as long as I let him watch… and let him kill you after.”
She peeked through her fingers. She watched the outright shock on Shouma’s face shift back to anger. “You really are insane, Miyama. Literally insane.”
She realized Kirishima had scooted closer, smiling as if he hadn’t suggested something that crossed the border from kinky into horrifying. “I prefer the word, generous. Not many men would give their permission –”
“I don’t need your permission to fuck Yoshino,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
Yoshino inhaled sharply. Was that a slip of the tongue? The way he worded that made it sound an awful lot like he did want to. She expected him to just say ‘gross’ or ‘ew’, something like what he said that night in the park. But he was really worked up right now. Kirishima was working overtime to push his buttons and make him snap. Was that a mistake or a slip of truth?
Kirishima lost his smile and hummed. “Right, first, you would need Yoshino’s. But why would she do that? She told me she likes me because I’m honest about what I want. I told her I was into her the second I realized it.”
“Easy for you to do when you were invited to go after her by Boss Somei,” Shouma retorted.
“That’s true! Whereas Boss Somei would have flayed you alive if you even tried to touch her, is that it? You pretended to be like family because you were too scared of her real family to be honest, but at least you got to be in her life?”
Yoshino looked between them. Kirishima looked so self-satisfied, taunting Shouma. He could just be spouting bullshit to get under his skin. But Shouma had his hands fisted in the sheets and murder in his eyes. Was it true? It was true, what Kirishima said about Gramps. It was common knowledge that she was off limits. Even randoms on the street knew who she was and steered clear of her. No man ever expressed interest in her. She never consciously considered that it would apply to Shouma, too. Just because he never tried to cross the line of friendship, that didn’t actually prove he didn’t want to.
Her head was swimming, and her body was on fire. She was so very aware of how close they both were to her. “How old were you the first time you rubbed one out while thinking about Yoshino?” Kirishima grinned like the Cheshire Cat.
“Kirishima!” she screamed indignantly.
“Please let me kill him.” Shouma’s voice was husky as he begged her.
“Oh, no need to be embarrassed,” Kirishima purred. Yoshino’s body and breath froze. “I bet she’s flicked this bean for you more than once.” His hand… was in her shorts. He was gliding his fingers through the wetness that had been steadily accumulating between her legs. Her hips unconsciously bucked into the pleasant feeling, and she gave a choked gasp while she grabbed onto Shouma’s tee to try and ground herself.
Shouma was confused for a second, then looked down and saw exactly what Kirishima was doing. She felt the warmth of his body leave her before her brain processed how fast he lunged at Kirishima. Her boyfriend tried to keep hold of her, but his hand was dragged out of her shorts by Shouma, who reminded her of those avenging angels you see in old paintings, righteous fury all over his face.
The two men tousled and fell off the bed to the ground. Shouma came out on top of Kirishima and started hailing haymakers down on him. Yoshino crawled to the edge, sitting back on her heels and calling for Shouma to stop, but he either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. Kirishima was just laughing.
“I don’t know what you’re so upset about, Toriashi. I’m offering you what you’ve always wanted, to fuck Yoshino Somei,” Kirishima needled.
“She’s not yours to offer to anyone. What don’t you get, you sick freak?” Shouma gave him another blow to the head. “Do I have to beat it into you? You don’t own her; you can’t just offer her up like some sleazy pimp.”
“Fine, I guess you’re right, but what if she was the one offering?” Kirishima smiled.
Shouma stilled. He was silent for a long moment. “She doesn’t want that.”
“Are you suuuuure?” Kirishima asked in a singsong voice and held his fingers close to Shouma’s face. Even from her perch on the bed, Yoshino could see his fingers shining in the light from outside, still wet from touching her. She wished a black hole would open in the bed and swallow her up so she wouldn't have to feel this mortified.
Shouma dropped his fist to his side and turned his head, then froze. Yoshino saw his pupils dilate so wide, she could barely see the iris, but he wasn’t looking at her face. As they were positioned, his face was level with and only a couple feet away from the edge of the bed. Yoshino’s knees were perched on the edge, and were spread enough that Shouma had a front row seat to the dark patch of wetness where her shamefully throbbing pussy had soaked through the cotton.
She squeezed her legs together and looked away from his face, hoping to asses the damage done to Kirishima, but her eyes caught on the very prominent bulge in Shouma’s sweatpants. It was fucking true?! She had cared deeply about Shouma since he was a boy, but she had truly never really thought about him that way, outside of intrusive thoughts in the exact situation Kirishima theorized. She would die before she gave him the satisfaction of admitting that, though. She hadn’t really been allowed to think of anyone that way with intention, to seriously consider anyone. She had noticed a while ago that Shouma wasn’t a boy anymore, like she wasn’t a little girl anymore, but what she was looking at through his sweats was undeniably all man. A small moan forced its way out as she looked at it, and that snapped Shouma’s attention away from her own… situation. He looked at her with wild eyes. She saw fear there, but more than anything, he looked ravenous.
“Oooh,” Kirishima took advantage of Shouma’s distraction and landed his own sucker punch on her friend… if that was still an appropriate descriptor for him. Shouma fell on his back, and Kirishima slunk up onto the bed, settling behind Yoshino to wrap his arms around her, one hand lightly gripping her throat, the other fanning the expanse of her lower stomach, flirting with the waistband of her shorts.
When Shouma righted himself, still on his knees, Kirishima trailed a hand down to her knee, forcing her legs wide again. She whined, with embarrassment, arousal, both, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that Kirishima holding her like this, putting her on display for Shouma’s hungry eyes, was driving her insane.
Kirishima purred in her ear and swiped his hand over the moist patch in her shorts, making her jolt in his grasp. “I wonder if this is for me, or for him? Or maybe it’s for both of us? Is that what does it for you? Are you such a spoiled attention whore that you need two men to be drooling over you? That’s so hot, Yoshino. I knew you had it in you.”
His filthy words, shaming her for finding this situation erotic, sent her mind into overdrive. Her ample chest heaved, and she squirmed, trying to get free or to beg for more of his touch; she hadn’t decided yet.
“Yoshino…” Shouma whispered. “Is that really what you want?”