Excuse me if you see this i need a place to dump it to find on my phone
“God, why does everything about you have to be so fucked up?” Yata complained mildly, swatting one of Fushimi's hands away from his side and trying to ignore the trail of warmth they left. Which was stupid anyway, since Saru's hands were cold- were allways cold, same as his feet, even when the rest of his body ran weirdly hot. “Just because you're here doesn't mean you automatically have to get handsy, you perverted waste of space.”
Fushimi's given response was to hum an absent acknowledgment against Yata's neck, where his mouth was still pressed. He also, unhelpfully, maneuvered the hand Misaki had tried to bat away back under his shirt.
“Oh for fuck's sake, Saru.” Yata elbowed Fushimi in the stomach, shoving his boyfriend off of his back. “Kusanagi-san will KILL us if we fool around in his bar, you shithead! He is literally twenty feet away from us, get your hands off me!”
“It's not like anyone's listening,” Saru sighed, scraping a fingernail across the back of Yata's neck and sending a hot shiver down the length of his spine for it. “Everyone's out there loudly living up the fact that they don't have to be well-behaved for their princess while she's having her girl time with Lt. Awashima.”
That was true, Yata supposed. And a good thing, too - not just for Anna, who had literally no women in her life other than the ice queen, and could probably like. Use the role model or some shit. But it was also good because one could simply not fool around with their lover while in the same building as Anna - it'd be creepy on par with doing it while the next room over while a priest and a nun baptize a baby or some shit. Actually, no - Yata was adamantly NOT doing anything with Fushimi in the storage closet, thank you, so it would have been better to have her as an excuse even a freak like Saruhiko couldn't argue with. But, as it was, Saru was all back up in his business like being jabbed in the gut somehow didn't count as a sufficient 'no.'
“And besides, I'm not allowed to leave the bar until she comes back anyway, so who knows how long I could be stuck here? It seems like a waste not to take advantage of that,” Saruhiko purred into his ear, pressing the length of his stupid tall body against Yata's back and untying the sweater from around his waist, letting it drop to the floor.
Yata rolled his eyes at that. “That's your own fault for getting yourself suspended and putting poor Awashima on monkeysitting duty in the first place!” He scowled, trying not to lean back into Saru's chest but somehow managing to squirm himself into being comfortable anyway. “I shouldn't indulge you when you're supposed to be being punished.”
“Well, then you also shouldn't have let me drag you in here in the first place, huh?” Fushimi snickered, his right hand leaving Yata's hip to pluck the headphones from around his neck, mumbling “These are in my way,” as he dropped them to the floor, pulling off Yata's hat while he was at it.
And that. Was also true. Yata was totally to blame on that one - it's not like he didn't know Saruhiko well enough by now to have known exactly what he had in mind when he'd whispered “Misaki, come here for a minute,” pulled him into the storage closest where Kusangai-san stored the kegs and soda crates and freaking closed the door behind them. And, he reflected as Saru wrapped both long arms around Yata's waist so he could reach and undo his pants, teeth grazing along the shell of Yata's ear; he was man enough to admit the thought of messing around in the bar had occurred to Yata himself when Fushimi had come trailing in after Awashima in the first place. But just because the idea was hot didn't mean it was okay to actually DO it. “Come on, Saru, stop being such a freak. You're gonna get me in trouble.”
“I don't see how,” Fushimi mumbled, letting the lobe of Yata's ear fall from his teeth. “When no one else ever gets in trouble for having sex in here.”
That made Yata pause. “Huh?” He craned his neck around to look at Fushimi. “What do you mean by that?”
Saru made one of those awful 'How stupid ARE you?' faces of his. “You didn't even know? Everyone's always had sex in this closet. I used to see Chitose bringing girls in and out of here all the time. Geeze, I guess no matter how much we fuck you'll always think like a virgin, huh, Misaki?”
“You think you should be insulting me when you're trying to get in my pants, dickhead?” Yata spat, but it wasn't just Fushimi he was annoyed at. How many of his friends had gotten ass in here while he'd been two rooms away, and he'd never even fucking known it? It made him feel like a total fucking cherry boy, even when he and Saru had been all over each other like rabbits for the last two months.
The sound of Kamamoto and Dewa laughing loudly at something in the main bar was suddenly annoying him. Whatever, fuck those guys - Yata could just do what he wanted too, couldn't he? The main reason he'd even been saying no was because he was wary of pissing off Kusanagi, but if everyone was already doing it then he should be able to have his fun, too. “Tch, fuck this shit,” he muttered, turning around the rest of the way where he was still locked in Saruhiko's arms. “Screw it, let's make out, Saru.”
Fushimi looked a bit surprised, and mildly suspicious. “Really? Just like that?” He asked, one arched eyebrow raised.
“What, you gonna suddenly say you don't want to?” Yata growled, one hand reaching up to the back of Fushimi's neck.
“No, not at all. I just wasn't expecting that you to be so easy.” His stupid shitty boyfriend replied with a smirk, leaning in to shove his tongue in Yata's mouth before he had time to bite out an insult - and when Misaki bit his tongue, instead, the masochistic loon just moaned into it like Yata had grabbed at his dick or something. Which, whatever, at least they were both on the same page, finally.
Saruhiko wasted no time in getting his hands back moving, one sliding down to grope at Yata's ass while the other wormed once again under his sweater so Saru could run his cool fingers along Misaki's naked side. He was really determined to get his hands on Yata's skin, apparently, but fuck if it didn't feel good. If Yata had to pick one thing about Fushimi, he had to say his best feature was his hands - those long fingers could do some crazysexy things, especially once he got them inside - well. They might be able to pull off a quickie, but going that far was probably pushing it. As nice as a good deep-dicking sounded right now, they'd need to settle for something a bit less messy.
For right now, Yata was determined to enjoy the luxury of making out. Yata loved kissing, loved the wet slide of Saru's tongue on his, the intimacy of sucking on Saruhiko's bottom lip. Liked it best messy and dirty, a battle for control neither of them ever actually tried to win. If it was up to him he could just kiss like this for ages, but right now Saru was starting to push him back against the far wall lined with beer kegs and Yata decided that he'd also really like letting his boyfriend shove him to sit on top of the metal barrel just behind him and hitching his legs up around Fushimi's waist while his upper back hit the wall.
It was too bad that Saru didn't like kissing as much as Yata did, but he definitely made up for it with the things that mouth could do on Yata's neck. God, he didn't know why, but Saru licking and sucking at his neck like this always riled him straight up, zero to hot in a second flat. And he knew Saruhiko liked it, too, had already noticed how much time the perverted monkey spent staring at Yata's throat, knew that Saruhiko's absolute favorite thing in the world was sinking those sharp white teeth into Yata's skin. Any time Yata let Saru put his mouth on him too long he couldn't resist the urge to turn it into a bite; the insides of Yata's thighs were practically black from hickies and who knew how many were on his back and shoulders that he hadn’t even noticed? In fact, Yata thought as he dragged his nails through Saruhiko's hair, scratching harshly at the scalp behind his ears the way he knew his boyfriend liked best, it was just about time for Saru give in, huh? If Yata didn't push him off and redirect that mouth now, he was gonna get bit again real soon.
The thought was enough to make Yata's toes curl in his shoes, the anticipation causing a twitch in his thighs, the tense muscles automatically tightening his hold on Saru's waist. He really shouldn't let Saru suck another mark into his neck; he was pretty good about keeping his teeth under the line of where Misaki's hair or headphones would cover, but Yata still got teased about dating a vampire by the others whenever they caught sight of one of them.
Saru's had one hand gripping Yata's head to pull it to the side now, and had started doing that thing he does where he laves his tongue across one spot on Yata's neck, his weird little way of mapping out to choose the spot he was going to claim with his teeth.
Ah fuck, it. Yata decided, giving the strands of hair still caught in his fingers a hard tug that pulled a little whine from the back of his boyfriend's throat. The monkey had been a relatively good boyfriend lately - might as well indulge both of their sexy whims while they were in here, right?
No sooner had the thought finished flitting through his mind than Saruhiko was biting down, both of them moaning in different octaves at the sensation of teeth sinking into flesh. “Fuuuuck, Saru.” Yata groaned, fingers unconsciously tightening their grip in dark hair, which only made Saruhiko moan again and bite down harder. “God, you really get off on that, don’t you? Kinky bastard.”
Fushimi released his hold on Yata’s neck, licking at the reddened skin of the bite mark he’d just left. “Mm, I really do,” He sighed, the hand that wasn’t still gripping Yata’s hip moving to slide in between their bodies and reach down to undo Yata’s zipper. “Nothing I love more than leaving my mark on Misaki’s lovely skin.” Yata had actually been talking about Saruhiko’s love of getting his hair pulled, but whatever - not like Saru was wrong about the biting thing, and Yata certainly wasn’t gonna object to Saru whispering dirty nothings into his ear. Maybe even got off on it, a little - Saruhiko had a really erotic voice when he dropped it sexy-style like that.
“Yeah?” Yata encouraged, leaning back his hips a little so Fushimi could work his hand into the front of his shorts. “You would. You’re so possessive, it’s insane. I know you love the idea of everyone knowing I’m yours, right?”
“Because you are mine,” Saruhiko purred, face still buried in Yata’s hair where he could breathe the words directly into his ear. “Look how hard you got for me already, Mi~sa~ki.” He teased, pressing his palm to Misaki’s cock.
Yata groaned happily, just barley avoiding throwing his head back to smash against the wall behind him and rocking his hips into that hand. “Like you can say anything about that when you started it, perverted shit-monkey. You use any excuse you can find to get your hands all over me.”
“How can I resist, when it’s so easy to get you hot and bothered?” Fushimi returned playfully, dipping his hand inside Yata’s underwear to stroke his dick directly, and fuuuck, Saru was good with his hands, it felt fucking awesome. “Knowing at any moment I can sneak you away and get you to show me those cute faces you don’t let anyone else see.” He pulled his face away from Misaki’s neck, just far enough away to look Yata in the eye and smirk, teasingly loosening the grip he had on Misaki’s cock. “You know I don’t have much self control when it comes to you, Misaki. Wanna fuck you all the time.” Fushimi’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, the wicked gleam in his eye telling all sorts of stories about what exactly, he thinks about when he looks at Yata while his fingertips lightly caressed the underside of his dick.
“I noticed,” Yata grinned back, reaching up underneath Saru’s jacket it push it off his shoulders. Fushimi pulled away just long enough to finish shrugging it off the rest of the way, diving back in to kiss Yata again, his hands pushing the hem of Yata’s shirt up towards his armpits to rub his thumbs over his nipples.
Since he was not a girl, that wasn’t any particular erogenous zone for Yata. But, sometimes it could be fun, and Yata had already decided that in regards to sex it was best to just go with the flow and let Fushimi touch whatever he wanted to, since the guy could get pretty stubborn when it came to getting as much of Misaki as he could. But when one of those hands tried to swipe down the length of Yata’s stomach and back to his crotch, it passed a bit too harshly over a bruise on his stomach that Yata had completely forgotten about and he sucked in a sharp intake of air, his gasp breaking their kiss.
Saruhiko frowned, looking down to see what had caused the reaction. “What’s this? Where did this come from?” He sneered, pulling back to splay his cool palm over the span of the purple mark.
“A fight me and some of the guys got into the other day.” That had been like. Two or three days now? Had it been that long since Saru had seen him naked to have not noticed? Shit, considering their normal pace it was no wonder they’d both gotten wound up so fast today. “I wasn’t watching the ground and some fuck-ass got a low kick on me. Busted his fucking face up for it, though.”
Fushimi’s face just twisted into a disgusted scowl, fingers digging into the bruise unconsciously. “You’re aren’t supposed to actually let them hit you, Misaki,” he scolded with a little ‘tsk’, suddenly grabbing Yata by the hips to pull him off the keg he was sitting on and stand him on the floor. “You know how much I hate seeing that someone else has left a mark on my Misaki’s body.” He spit the words out like they were acid in his mouth, twisting Yata’s hips to turn him around to face the metal rack lined with the bar’s soda syrup pumps.
“Oh my fucking God, you get possessive about the WEIRDEST shit, you damned creep.” Yata rolled his eyes, not bothering to pretend it wasn’t kind of hot that Saru could just pick him up and manhandle him like that, but still unimpressed by the sentiment. “It was a FIGHT. I get in them literally all the time, you need to find your chill.”
“I’m possessive about everything,” Saruhiko clicked his tongue again, leaning over Yata’s back and sliding one hand down to grope his ass while the other meaningfully began to shuck Yata’s shorts down. “You’re lucky I’m just sane enough to let you out of the house at all.”
“That’s not a good thing, moron! When I call you creepy you are not supposed to give me example in how you COULD be even creepier, you freakshow!” Yata reached backwards to elbow Fushimi again. “I don’t know why I don’t just walk out every time you say something serial killer-y like that, jesus fucking Christ.”
The jab to the gut didn’t discourage Saruhiko this time, either. “Because I always make sure I don’t say the awful things I think out loud until I’ve riled you up hot enough that you’re too horny to leave?” He snickered into Yata’s ear, running an appreciative hand over the exposed skin of his ass.
That. Was an exactly true statement, Yata reflected. That a sick son of a bitch.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing back there, anyway?” Yata evaded, deciding not to give Saru the satisfaction of knowing he really was that horny. “Because this is not the time or place to go all the way, jackass.”
Saruhiko hummed, reaching around Yata’s hips to stroke at his dick again, the other hand still splayed over his ass squeezing the flesh. “What, this is supposed to be a quickie, right? You think you can get me off with your mouth half as fast as I can get you to come from playing with your ass?”
Yata choked on his spit, rocking his hips forward into Saru’s hand. Fuck, that bastard had to put it like that, huh? Okay so Yata hadn’t actually like. Gotten good at blowjobs yet. At all. And had no idea how Saru could do the things he could do with that mouth without his jaw getting tired, because Yata’s always went out after like two minutes, and apparently he was not skilled enough with his tongue to make Saru blow his load before he got fucking lockjaw. “There are still faster things we could do than that! We’re gonna get fucking caught in here for sure!”
“I actually had the idea of fucking your thighs in mind when I dragged you off,” Saruhiko said agreeably, the hand on Yata’s ass sliding down to run gentle fingers over the old hickeys on the sensitive tops of his thighs. “But then,” he continued, and that hand reached down further - into the back pocket of Yata’s shorts, where he kept the- uh oh. “I noticed you were carrying this!” He cackled in delight, pulling out the little foil packet and holding it in front of Misaki’s face, like he could possibly not already know what it was. “Just lube but no condom? Wow, you really are filthy, aren’t you, Mi~sa~ki~?” He sang, waving it front of face tauntingly. “Even I don’t carry this stuff on me all the time! How could I disappoint you when you’re clearly so eager to have me fuck your pretty ass, Misaki~”
Ffffuuuuuuuucccckkkkkkk. Yata swatted Saru’s hand out of his face, leaning forward to fall against the bag-n-box rack for the sole reason of being able to bury his red face into the crook of his elbow. Yata had literally no defense whatsoever. Instead, he had lube in his pocket. What the fuck was he gonna say, ‘I’m holding it for a friend?’ Yeah fucking right. “UGH. I hate you so much. If you’re gonna do it then at least fuckin’ get to it instead of making fun of me for wanting you!”
Saruhiko’s response was to suddenly wrap both of his arms around Yata’s waist, burying his face in Misak’s hair and inhaling a deep sniff of air, sighing out the word “Misaki,” happily like it was actually a complete sentence that expressed a whole idea. “My wonderful Misaki. I’m going to fuck you too hard to walk straight.”
Yata sighed, a shiver running down his spine at the words. “You’re all talk so far, Shitmonkey. Gonna do it or not?” He goaded