fic for jain
Title: Tandem
Rating: NC-17
Threesome: Ryo/Shige/Tegoshi
Summary: Attempts at snark, awkwardness, getting these boys together.
Warnings: Mild angst, sex.
Notes: For jain ♥, whose writing I admire very much ♥ Beta-ed by two lovely people, rest of the errors are mine. So much love to the many people on my gchat for the handholding and encouragement!
i. everyone’s saying different things to me
Shige is the first one to notice that they have a problem. Not because he’s the smart one, but because it has come to stare at them in the face - even Massu deigns to look the other way when Tegoshi sits on Ryo’s lap and Shige stares, Koyama giggles and Yamapi pretends to be oblivious to it all.
Actually, it may all depend on the definition of a “problem”. As he tells Koyama, he may not have any expertise in the field of love, but he firmly believes that when more than two people are involved it becomes a problem. However, Koyama (“Official Consultant for Member-Ai”), hits him on the head and tells him with the way he thinks, love will always be a problem - so he should just suck it up and deal.
“Ryo loves Tegoshi,” Shige argues. “Not me, he has never liked me. He has no reason to.”
“I think he does,” His best friend fixes him with a single-lidded stare from the far end of the couch, fingers gently stroking the fluff under Nyanta’s chin.
“I don’t think - ”
“You’re just stubborn as usual,” Koyama interrupts, rubbing his face into his pet’s warm fur. “Like how Wagahai refuses to leave Nyanta alone even though he’s been rejected.”
“But Nyanta did not reject Wagahai,” Shige frowns.
“Nyanta loves everyone, neh~” Koyama coos at his cat, a small wistful smile on his face. Then, like the cat knows when it is being talked about, it arches out its back and leaps into Shige’s lap.
The debate is lost when Shige sneezes violently but doesn’t move from his seat on the couch.
ii. a starlight in the gloom
Shige likes attention - he wears flashy watches, shiny shoes, printed shirts and huge belts. He’s in a group with seven other individuals, so he thinks it’ll be silly if they all looked the same. He adjusts the collar of his shirt in the mirror and watches Kusano’s reflection make faces at him.
“Those shoes look hideous,” Ryo states a matter-of-factly, browsing casually through a rack of costumes. “Your hair sucks too, Kusano.”
“Ryo-chan!” Koyama admonishes from the other side of the room, barely looking up from polishing the skull buckle of his belt.
“I’m envious of Shige,” Tegoshi compliments with a sincere smile. ”You carry them off so well.”
“Th-thank you.” Shige stammers, taken aback.
Shige tries to suppress the irrational rush of blood to his cheeks: a strange feeling stirs up inside - a bittersweet concoction of jealously and gratification biting at his conscience as he rudely brushes past Tegoshi, face ducked into his collar as he makes his way out of the dressing room. He misses the nervous bite of Tegoshi’s teeth on his lower lip, uncertain if he’d said something offensive, unsure if he’d stepped on toes, unsure whether he should leave for good, too.
A hand ruffles Tegoshi’s hair - soft despite how unpolished it looks - and Ryo throws a jacket over his shoulders.
“You look good like this.”
“Th- thanks,” Tegoshi blushes furiously in response. “Ryo-tan has good taste.” The sleeves are still far too long for him, but the grateful look on his face makes everybody else grin in approval.
iii. ’cause there’s beauty in the breakdown
“Do you love Kanjani8 or NEWS more?”
The question is so sudden out of Tegoshi’s mouth Ryo doesn’t have time to react before he immediately claps a hand over his mouth in horror.
“I’m sorry I really didn’t mean to ask that - I really shouldn’t have! I’m sorry, I’m really sorry - ” Ryo snaps his head up to meet Tegoshi’s mortified expression, momentarily stunned into silence by the sheer volume of emotion.
“You shouldn’t have.” They both turn and it’s Shige at the door with a frown on his face. Tears well up immediately in Tegoshi’s eyes, but before Ryo can say anything again the youngest member chokes out one last strangled apology and flees, Shige’s skin tingling where Tegoshi has brushed by him.
“You shouldn’t have, either.” Ryo says, and Shige can’t tell whether the older man is truly angry from the expression on his face.
“It’s just a job.” He mumbles, unable to stop himself, this exasperation with the unhinged dynamics even since they were put together.
“It’s my life,” Ryo says simply, like he’d been expecting this since day one.
Tegoshi goes to apologize to each and every member of Kanjani8 the day after it happened - Ohkura just nods in confusion, Yassu shrieks “I forgive you!” loudly and draws him into a tight hug. Shige stops in his tracks when he passes the Kanjani8 dressing oom on the way to rehearsal, catching on when Tegoshi approaches Yoko and Subaru chatting on the couch, poring over a dubious looking magazine. When Tegoshi bows his head in apology, Shige spies an inappropriate grin blooming on Yoko’s face - he doesn’t know what made him step in.
“Tegoshi!” Shige hisses through his teeth, yanking him by his elbow away from grubby hands.
“What are you doing?”
“Saying I’m sorry?” Tegoshi turns to him with a bewildered look tinged with fear, afraid that he might have said something wrong again.
“We are more than happy to accept your compensation,” Yoko declares, arms outstretched, pleased smile on his face.
Shige tugs at the younger boy’s arm again. “Don’t apologize, NEWS is cooler than them - ”
“WHAT?!”
“Murakami-kun!” Tegoshi squeaks and Shige cowers, because Hina is suddenly towering over them -
“DON’T THINK THAT BECAUSE UCHI IS YOUR FRIEND YOU CAN BE IN HERE.” Hina bellows in their face, hair flying wildly. “BECAUSE HE IS NOT HERE!”
This time, it’s Ryo in the doorway, laughing his head off.
iv. I know you won’t fail
Shige wonders how to do this. This, giving Ryo his new phone number. After all, Ryo did ask, albeit indirectly, but it does nothing to help the tight twist in his stomach when he taps the man on his shoulder and sticks a piece of notepaper in his face.
A raised eyebrow, a rustling sound, a quirk of the mouth, and he accepts.
Shige breathes again.
“About time,” Ryo tears it up, dropping the pieces into the trash as he exits the room with a satisfied smirk on his face - the one with teeth and a spark in his eyes. “Koyama gave me your number ages ago.”
Shige makes a sound like an angry cat. Damn magazines.
v. and all my words were bound to fail
Tegoshi waits patiently his lips pressed to his knees, fingers laced and ankles crossed. He wonders if Nishikido-kun will be angry with him for being rude, so he doesn’t hit “send”.
He almost wears out the hinge of his clamshell phone, the snap of hard plastic strangely satisfying, hypnotizing, comforting.
“Go to bed, Yuya.” Okaasan’s soft voice calls from outside his door. She wonders if she did the right thing, sometimes. Tegoshi’s mother comes in and tucks her reluctant son into bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Nishikido-kun must have been tired, Tegoshi concludes.
When he finally drifts off, his dreams are filled with yelling voices and blank faces. Tegoshi is still asleep when the tiny square lights up with a soft blue glow at seven in the morning, his hands twisted tightly in the sheets.
Even though Ryo apologized profusely that next morning, he spends the whole afternoon unable to move forward, a tension present between his shoulders that only Yamapi notices and smacks his ass for.
“Look,” Yamapi points at Tegoshi as he walks into the room smiling to himself, balancing six cans of cold drink from the vending machine in his hands. “It’s okay.”
vi.ransom notes keep falling out of my mouth
Koyama’s been giving him weird stares, so Ryo tries not to watch so much. But when the two best friends touch each other so much, his skin crawls and his brain threatens to shut down from the conflict. He tells himself that he probably needs to get out more, but he’d signed his life away on a crisp sheet of paper a long time ago. Ryo is in the prime of his youth, but he feels old yet immature, horizons blinkered, ambitions tethered to entertainment. Watching the band progress and evolve around him - he wonders if he has moved with them.
For a while, he lives life through them - latching on to every word Tegoshi offers up willingly about school and life outside work, being interested in Shige’s life (“Intrusive,” Yamapi corrects him on occasion) and getting to know him better (Uchi thinks he should stop speaking in his “Osakan code” of love). Ryo once hated Shige, because he was a slap of reality in the face - that there’s something beyond the life of an idol that he can’t imagine nor experience. Life without work was unconceivable.
Circumstances after work leave him in the same room with Tegoshi and Shige, the atmosphere weird and tangible. When he realizes what he has been feeling, a sudden rush of guilt makes him suggest dinner, an action he knew he’d probably regret. Koyama turns up, having invited himself through Shige, and proceeds to be talk too much, much to Ryo’s annoyance.
“Ryo-chan is so thoughtful, inviting everybody out for dinner!” Koyama waves his chopsticks cheerfully in the air.
“You weren’t invited, stupid.”
“Ryo-tan!” Tegoshi puts a piece of sashimi into Ryo’s bowl in an attempt to placate him.
Shige makes a frustrated growl at the back of his throat, which earns him a skeptical look from Ryo, but he just doesn’t care anymore, doesn’t care about what Ryo thinks about him, what Ryo thinks he thinks of Ryo.
Even when he gets the best pieces of fish stuffed in his face, no, not really.
Ryo still talks to Uchi often about how the band is doing, and after a NEWS filming session Uchi calls and he picks up, surrounded by camera equipment and the damp chill of the set. Koyama and Shige are fooling around on somewhere as Yamapi takes his individual shots, sharkish grin and promoting wastage of water.
“Yo. Dinner?”
“Yea.” Tegoshi and Massu walk past, singing their lines from the B-side to their latest single at the top of their voices, Ryo cringing at the crooning.
“I want to speak to Tegoshi! He sounds grown up!”
“Oh, you don’t know,” He groans and catches the younger boy by the sleeve, shoving the cell phone in his face. “A girl wants to speak to you.”
Tegoshi gives him a puzzled look, but presses the phone to his ear anyway, sparking with laughter when he realizes who’s on the other line.
“Tegonyan~ How are you?” Uchi’s voice is tinny but so very happy through the phone.
“I’m good! How is Uchi-kun?”
“Ryo-chan likes you,” Tegoshi starts a little at his sudden change of topic, glancing nervously over at Ryo. “He just thinks he’d corrupt you.”
Tegoshi is silent for a while, fiddling with the last button on his jacket. “I know,” he says, smiling even though he knows Uchi can’t see him, because he knows Uchi really cares.
“I know, so I’m less shy, neh.”
“Look, this is what you must do, alright?”
vii. I was difficult to reach but you picked me
it is televised truth that Tegoshi can dance and do the hip thing now, but he still talks like rapid gunfire when he’s nervous. Sometimes he still goes to his most admired senpai Yamashita-kun and tells him everything in a rush of breath (like why he likes Ryo even though he worries it’s just senpai-admiration, how it’s different from his feelings for Yamashita-kun, but he loves Yamashita-kun too). Yamapi would often have a derailed expression on his face afterwards, but what most people don’t know it’s a practiced skill so it doesn’t overwhelm him, and Yamapi always remembers. Sometimes he acts accordingly to what he thinks would be the best.
“Tell them,” Yamapi drawls lazily over the buzz of the television the following Sunday afternoon.
“Tell who?” Jin speaks through a mouthful of chips and it makes Ryo want to stuff his face with cushion.
“No.” Ryo deadpans.
“You need to stop treating them like children, Ryo-chan.”
“Hah, Ryo needs to stop behaving like one - ah stop the fuck you bastard - ”
Ryo thinks if there’s one thing Jin should have shut his mouth about, it was his collarbones, but he can’t shut it now because he’s shrieking as Ryo mercilessly digs fingers into the grooves. Limbs flail and there is kicking that almost upsets the popcorn bowl but knocks the game controllers off the coffee table(“Oh thank goodness!” says Yamapi gratefully).
“Tegoshi and Shige are special~” Yamapi squeals in delight when the fight spills over to his side of the couch.
“Why do you always pick on me?” Jin wails.
“That’s thinking too highly of yourself there, Bakanishi.”
Ryo would have jumped on his leader if the other half of stupid had not decided to hold him back.
viii. let’s conspire to re-ignite
He’s practicing late in the rehearsal rooms, his limbs feel heavy and lethargic even though he’d just started an hour ago. Just one snap, one body-pop with a quick whip of hair - one after the other, accented with an edge of hip - but its not perfect. Tegoshi presses against the mirror, feeling the cool of the glass on his eyelids, trying to calm himself down enough to hear the music over the roar of frustration in his head.
Shige was heading out, looking forward to a nice warm soak and a night with his new book, when he sees movement out of the corner of his eyes in one of the practice rooms. Peering carefully around the door - you can never be too cautious in these areas of the jimusho - he finds the youngest member of the band with his back to him, mumbling to himself. He swivels on his heel to leave, but when Tegoshi picks himself off the mirror and restarts his routine - the feeling is disconcertingly familiar, the slump of slight shoulders tugging at his conscience. That’s when Shige steps in, squashing the twinge of jealous - walking over to the stereo, he drops his bag and plugs his player in, picking out the tracks.
Tegoshi turns to him with wide eyes, caught unaware that somebody had been watching - and suddenly it’s Shige, taking his place in front of the mirror with eyes fixed straight ahead, chin set in a determined fashion.
“If you tilt your head a little like that before you have to do this it might be easier,” Shige instructs and demonstrates. “I’ve tried it before.”
Their eyes meet in the mirror and Tegoshi is touched by the sincerity that Shige tries to hide; it warms him from inside out. Counting down aloud to his cue with renewed enthusiasm, they dance unafraid, uninhibited, moves becoming sharper and cleaner with each repetition.
When the music stops looping and they are sprawled on the floor, still breathing in sync, he remembers that even Yamashita-kun had friends who danced with him back then.
“Thank you.” He finds Shige’s hand on the floor squeezes it.
Shige squeezes back, hard (It must be that part of Osaka that Ryo has too, Tegoshi thinks).
“I needed the practice,” Shige says to the ceiling. “Besides, it’s no fun dancing alone.”
Tegoshi nods and smiles silently.
ix. I’ve touched this place before somewhere in another time
“Ryo-tan.”
“Yes, Tegonyan?”
“Do you love me?”
Ryo’s eyebrows shoot up into his fringe - the bass thumps loudly in the background, but not loud enough for him to mishear the question. Tegoshi has a small smile on his lips, eyes shining like stars in the dimmed lights.
“Yamapi, I’ll kill you!” Ryo yells at the leader of NEWS over the noise of a party well under way.
“You let Tegoshi drink!”
“He’s legal, Ryo-chan!” Yamapi yells back from the other end of the room, face contorted from the burn of downing a tequila shot with Jin. Kame has a hand on Yamapi’s forearm, eyes glassy, looking more than a little out of it. Jin reaches over to help keep the man on his feet as Yamapi pours them a final drink.
“So what?”
Yamapi just waves his hands dismissively, leaning over Kame to whisper in Jin’s ear.
“Horny bitches,” Ryo curses, lighting up but not taking a drag, when Jin turns his head to smirk at him over Kame’s shoulder, like he’s got something Ryo doesn’t, grabbing his two friends by the elbows to drag them towards his bedroom.
“I’m not drunk,” Tegoshi says patiently, holding up his glass to recapture Ryo’s attention, swirling the clear liquid.
“Talk to me when you are sober.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
His arms automatically cross over his chest when Tegoshi leans a little closer, grazing at the very edge of his personal bubble. Tegoshi sighs, almost like Koyama would, like he was dealing with a petulant child. Tegoshi gently sets the glass down on the impossibly cluttered cocktail table without taking his eyes off Ryo. He moves forward so slowly and smoothly Ryo doesn’t realize he has, until he feels warm breath on his face - Tegoshi wasn’t lying, he grudgingly admits. At this distance, the boy smells sweet and innocent, no trace of the sharp sour tang of alcohol in his breath. He tries not to think of how inviting Tegoshi’s mouth suddenly seems, curled at the corners, lips a pale pink and lightly pressed together.
So tempting and alluring, like forbidden fruit that heralds his downfall. He makes excuses in his head - it’s not meant to be, someone like him, even if he can scrape by and attempt to cheat reality, it is always still too early, but never too late.
“You love Shige.” Tegoshi says with a knowing look.
The lack of question makes Ryo flinch, but the couch meets the back of his head and there is nowhere for him to run, so he doesn’t. His eyes follow Tegoshi’s as they flicker to where Shige is perched on a bar stool, chatting idly with Koyama.
“You’re saying I have bad taste,” Ryo makes a face, and it makes Tegoshi giggle. “Entirely unconvincing.”
He’s in Ryo’s lap now, running fingers down the front of his dress shirt, playing with the buttons. Ryo flicks the ash off the end of his first and last cigarette of the night before stubbing it out. He chooses to sit on his hands, even though he should be using them to push Tegoshi off - not to be wanting to grab them and do bad things with them. Tegoshi’s still naïve; holding on to romantic ideals behind his cheap lyrics. With this groupd,Ryo feels more responsible for certain things and people he’d never been before.
“Stop holding back,” Tegoshi toys with the collar of his shirt. “Uchi says Ryo-tan is very shy.”
“What?” Ryo splutters angrily. “I am not!”
“I’ll have to force myself on you,” Tegoshi smiles coquettishly, “Shige too.”
Ryo knew it was a bad idea to let them talk; they gossip like girls and nothing good ever comes out of it. However, he immediately changes his mind when Tegoshi takes the situation into his own hands and presses their lips together, softly yet demanding, like he always is with his demure smile and sharp eyes. Ryo fights it, but the want is like an itch that needs to be scratched; sensibility overwhelmed by sensations - need takes over and he kisses back, softly, like it would hurt. His heart is in his throat with every sweep of tongue, clink of teeth - they are where everyone can see, but no one is really watching.
Shige chooses to look over the moment they choose to break apart for air, breathing fast with Tegoshi’s fingers twined in Ryo’s hair. Time drags and the smoky air swirls around him as two pairs of eyes glitter at him in the darkness when they notice his attention, faces angled slightly in his direction. With cheeks touching, lips joined at the edge - they to bask in it, just as tantalizing and provocative to each other as they are to him. They want him to see; watching him out of the corner of their eyes while they kiss - it goes straight down, settling into a constant ache between his legs.
He feels like a voyeur, a ghost of an outsider walking through the living, through those burning with a passion for what they do, those with dreams they carry proudly in their hearts. Shige shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and the next thing he knows he’s standing in front of them, Ryo putting Tegoshi’s hand into his. He thinks Ryo might have curled a beckoning finger, but the smoky air is occluding his rational mind, the memory of his body having moved thick and liquid in his consciousness.
“Take him home.”
“Huh?”
“I want this kid home.” Ryo flicks his lighter in what Shige thinks is an arrogant manner.
“I’m not a kid.” Tegoshi murmurs, putting on his best pout.
“Do I have any say in this?”
“Shige-kun, will you drive me home?”
“Drive him yourself.” Shige spits his words, ignoring the younger boy.
“Be careful when you drive,” Ryo’s hard black eyes burn into him, leaving him hot under the collar and at a loss for words. His hand burns where Ryo is holding it; fighting the urge to snatch his hand away but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away. He fidgets and Tegoshi squirms in Ryo’s lap, then he can’t take it anymore - Tegoshi is dragged to his feet with a surprised yelp, past a grinning Koyama and out into the corridor.
Shige holds his wrist all the way to where the car is parked around the street corner, letting go when they clamber into their seats, the purr of the engine loud and obscene in the quiet night. He imagines pinning Tegoshi against the car seat when he throws the car into gear, pushing forward for delightful friction when he steps on the gas, and god, it is not helping him drive safely.
“Shige.” Tegoshi says suddenly, making Shige suddenly realize they’ve been cruising in silence for a good ten minutes, and that the boy had been trying to get his attention for the last five. Obviously there was only so much his mind could focus on, driving, and - well.
“What?”
“Shige? Shige!” Tegoshi singsongs, and he almost misses the ramp off the highway. “I want some music!”
He fiddles with the radio, turns it on, making Shige wonder why he’d even asked. When he finally draws up in front of Tegoshi’s house, his knuckles have gone white-hot from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. His head aches from the effort of looking straight ahead and ignoring the NEWS singer belting out his name over random music.
“We’re here!” Tegoshi announces, looking at Shige crookedly, his head tilted against the glass window while making no move to get out. Shige makes a frustrated noise with his tongue.
“Tegoshi - ”
Suddenly there is sweetness in his mouth where Tegoshi is kissing him tongue tracing his lower lip, the taste fruity, so soft and fresh at this time of the night it’s almost funny. Fingers are in his hair by then, and he responds hungrily, almost desperate.
But Tegoshi’s the one who gently pulls away, and somehow his hands are over Shige’s, soft and cool in contrast to his own.
“I like you, you know.”
Shige is both confused and stunned into silence by the revelation: he would have expected Ryo’s name instead.
“I like you both,” His voice is a whisper now, his gaze a little sad but true.
x. and tonight we can truly say together we are invincible
For once, he doesn’t try to arrive as late as he can without pissing important people off - Shige takes the stairs two at a time, drink bottles clinking in his bags as he pauses on the last step, finding Tegoshi at the doorstep with a hesitant look on his face. They reach for the doorbell at the same time, physical contact buzzing like electricity.
Ryo opens the door to flushed faces looking in opposite directions, a hand resting on the doorframe and holding a kitchen knife in the other.
“It’s only four-thirty,” he remarks, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Let’s be civil to each other,” Shige blurts out hurriedly when he sees the glint in Ryo’s eyes.
“You can help with the food,” he orders, letting them in.
Tegoshi laughs at the pink frilly apron Ryo makes Shige wear, because he’s got the blue one and that automatically makes him better (“Are you five?” Shige rolls his eyes). Ryo has on a checkered yellow and white apron, so Shige calls him the Sunshine Boy, and ends up being backed onto the corner where Tegoshi has to save him from raw eel being stuffed down his mouth.
“Shige is no help,” Ryo barks, when he sees that Shige is faster at the slicing and dicing than he is.
“Shige can do everything!” Tegoshi laughs from where he stands between them, looping his arms around their waists and dragging them both closer to him, aligning their hips along the countertop. “Ryo can, too.”
The confined kitchen space of a Tokyo apartment made for one results in less than occasional touches, comical crashes and mutually awkward dodging on Shige and Ryo’s part, but eventually dinner is made and the table is set.
“Shige has rice on his face,” Tegoshi bends over and picks it off Shige’s chin with his fingers.
“That is so un-sexy.”
“I think he just needs to take off his shirt, Ryo-tan.” Tegoshi teases, and Shige’s face goes red from the very memory he’d wanted people to remember him for.
“Is this okay?” Ryo asks from behind his wine glass, his words warbled around the glass.
He’s referring to them, the three of them, now, sitting around the table, drinking the red wine Shige brought. They’d run out of excuses to keep their mouths occupied when they finished the food, the atmosphere becoming noticeably thicker. None of them really knows how it has come down to this, but it has. The real reason why Ryo asked them over; the real reason why Shige and Tegoshi agreed. Sex isn’t always the best way to solve problems between people, but between the three of them, nothing seems impossible anymore.
“Things should be as simple as they can.” Shige touches his nose nervously.
“I believe - ” Tegoshi starts, and then stops as he bites his lips, aggravating the already chapped skin.
It is nerve wracking, this three-way confession of sorts. Even Tegoshi’s resolve falters, because being grown-up isn’t just about being able to eat barbeque alone no matter how hungry he was. No amount of experience can suppress the anxious flutter - even if it isn’t their first time confessing their feelings for another - the wrench of the heart as they perch awkwardly at the edges of their chairs, because it would be the first for the three of them together.
Ryo thumbs Tegoshi’s cheek gently as they fall silent, there is no need for words to express what they feel, what they want.
“Shige,” Ryo says, and he leans closer to Shige, pulling him in with a hand around his neck.
Shige can smell the lingering scent of wine on Ryo’s lips before he tastes it, lips grazing lightly over his, the first kiss is tentative, restrained, like he’s testing the waters, afraid of making a mistake. When they part gasping for air, Shige realizes he’d forgotten to breathe from the way his lungs are burning.
One good thing about round tables is that the three of them are sitting next to each other, but it gets in the way when Tegoshi leans in to steal kisses from the edges of their mouths; all of a sudden they are unable to keep their hands off each other. They stumble out of their chairs, dishes forgotten - Ryo has his hands on Shige’s hips, pulling their bodies closer, and Shige feels the heat pool at the base of his stomach. The second, third, fourth and fifth kisses are less shy, more harsh and needy, Ryo dragging his teeth along Shige’s swollen lips.
“Hey,” Tegoshi whines because he can, slipping between them. “It’s important to share.”
Shige’s hands automatically threads into Tegoshi’s hair as they kiss, feeling hands wandering on his chest, undoing the buttons on his shirt. Ryo makes an impatient sound and slides his hands up Tegoshi’s shirt from behind, the younger boy squirming under his touch, the resulting friction making Shige groan.
“I don’t mind,” Shige mumbles into Tegoshi’s mouth, grabbing at Ryo’s shirt and they pin the younger boy between them. There’s an undercurrent of competition, the fight for control, and it’s making them all hard, touches getting increasingly frantic. When Ryo cups Tegoshi through his jeans the younger boy arches up into Shige with a cry, and the hard contact of Ryo’s hand and Tegoshi’s excitement against his own drives Shige crazy. Twisting his hand in the boy’s hair, he draws his head back to bite at skin of his neck, making him yelp as Shige leaves red marks behind.
“I knew you had it in you,” Ryo grins smugly at him over Tegoshi’s shoulder.
“Always did,” Shige grumbles at the half-insult.
He hurriedly shrugs off his open shirt and helps the others out of theirs, Tegoshi working his way behind Ryo, leaving light kisses on the back of Ryo’s neck as they both tug off the older man’s shirt. Shige fumbles with the buckle of his belt next, but Tegoshi placing his own over them stops him.
“Wait, wait.” Tegoshi says coyly, arms around Ryo, hooking his thumbs into Shige’s belt loops. He drags them in tandem in the direction of the bedroom.
“This would be better, don’t you think?”
Once inside, they fumble around for a while, trying to get out of too-tight jeans as fast as they can while still trailing hot hands over freshly-bared skin. Completely free of the restrictive material, they pause for a fleeting second that feels like eternity - the awful moment of clarity before taking the plunge, where their soul lays bare and naked in their eyes, the fear of expectations pinned too high weighing down on their shoulders.
There is a quick intake of breath, like the half-beat before the first rush of air against the microphone. An entirely different set of dynamics, the odd-numbered logistics work themselves out when Tegoshi lets himself fall backwards, dragging Shige and Ryo down with him by their wrists - they’d do whatever they please.
“Touch me,” Tegoshi orders Shige, as Ryo reaches over to search his drawers for lubricant.
“You were never polite,” Shige frowns disapprovingly, but complies, wrapping his hand around Tegoshi’s cock. Because when he strokes his length and runs a thumb over the tip, the boy responds most obediently, writhing under his touch. It makes him so achingly hard that when Tegoshi returns the favour; he groans involuntarily and thrusts up into his fist.
“You guys never wait,” Ryo complains, squeezing lube onto his fingers, horny from watching them get each other off.
Tegoshi reaches out with his other hand to cup Ryo’s chin, drawing him in. “And you waited for too long,” He says breathily in between kisses.
Ryo looks over and catches Shige’s eye, and the other understands what he has to do - Shige leans down to capture Tegoshi’s lips, swallowing his moans when Ryo slips his hand between his legs and slides a finger in. Tegoshi is hot and pliant under their hands, fucking himself on Ryo’s fingers, his knuckles as white as the sheets they fist as they work him into a sensuous frenzy - swirls of tongue and a hint of teeth, Shige’s gone down on him now. He doesn’t last for very long, coming quickly with a strangled whimper in Shige’s mouth.
Ryo pulls Shige up for a kiss, tasting Tegoshi on his lips. “Fuck him,” he says, rubbing the lubricant on the both of them.
“You do it.” Shige says, suddenly nervous, the emotion sorely out of place.
“Then fuck me.” Ryo hisses in his ear, making his message clear as turns to settle in front of Tegoshi, his back facing Shige. He watches Ryo press slick fingers into himself, gritting his teeth as he forces himself to relax and making soft abrupt noises when he touches something that makes him feel particularly good. When he sees Tegoshi with his confident come-on curl of lip and glittering dark eyes - he decides that there’s no short end of the stick when he has both.
Tegoshi parts his knees himself, but Ryo hooks hands under them anyway, watching his face crumple slightly as he slides into him - he is gloriously tight and he thinks he could possibly come right there and then if not for Tegoshi’s nails digging into his shoulder and the burn as Shige enters him with a raw groan.
Letting out a small brittle sound, Tegoshi breaks first: snapping his hips forward, hands tangled in Ryo’s hair. They fuck slowly at first, Ryo dictating the pace between them like he’s used to, Shige's fingers in the hollow of his hipbones.
"Fucking hell," Ryo bitches, and Shige is amazed how the man can glare at him like that during sex.
"You fuck like a wimp," He taunts, lips pulled back in a sneer. It sends a shiver down Shige's spine to be looked at like that, every hair standing on its end crying for a comeback, something to put that mouth down, anything at all.
Wordlessly, Shige changes his angle slightly and cuts free from the last of his remaining insecurities, relishing in the dominance, the freefall. Ryo gasps as he thrusts up wildly, the pace suddenly goading in its arrhythmicity, his hands gripping the headboard as Shige fucks him faster, harder, and he fucks Tegoshi faster, harder; Shige's fucking Tegoshi through Ryo faster, harder. Drawn out cries turn into sharp gasps as they pick up momentum, gaining confidence and shedding the awkwardness with every rise and fall.
Tegoshi claws at their bodies, trying to tell them something but the coherency chokes back in his throat as he cracks his head against the mahogany, dropping their names from his lips ryoohfuckryotanshigeshigeshige - Shige has to bite Ryo's ear to elicit sounds more than pants of air, and he does it again and again until Ryo bucks back violently against him in anger.
Something in the depths of their hearts unfurls as they approach the edge, the ache swelling from within, finally surging to the surface - and they come all at once with a great shudder, sweat shining on their necks and hair stuck to their faces.
n.
Morning creeps up on them silently, three warm bodies curled in the midst of crumpled sheets, hands linked in the last conscious thought before having succumbed to sleep.
Rating: NC-17
Threesome: Ryo/Shige/Tegoshi
Summary: Attempts at snark, awkwardness, getting these boys together.
Warnings: Mild angst, sex.
Notes: For jain ♥, whose writing I admire very much ♥ Beta-ed by two lovely people, rest of the errors are mine. So much love to the many people on my gchat for the handholding and encouragement!
i. everyone’s saying different things to me
Shige is the first one to notice that they have a problem. Not because he’s the smart one, but because it has come to stare at them in the face - even Massu deigns to look the other way when Tegoshi sits on Ryo’s lap and Shige stares, Koyama giggles and Yamapi pretends to be oblivious to it all.
Actually, it may all depend on the definition of a “problem”. As he tells Koyama, he may not have any expertise in the field of love, but he firmly believes that when more than two people are involved it becomes a problem. However, Koyama (“Official Consultant for Member-Ai”), hits him on the head and tells him with the way he thinks, love will always be a problem - so he should just suck it up and deal.
“Ryo loves Tegoshi,” Shige argues. “Not me, he has never liked me. He has no reason to.”
“I think he does,” His best friend fixes him with a single-lidded stare from the far end of the couch, fingers gently stroking the fluff under Nyanta’s chin.
“I don’t think - ”
“You’re just stubborn as usual,” Koyama interrupts, rubbing his face into his pet’s warm fur. “Like how Wagahai refuses to leave Nyanta alone even though he’s been rejected.”
“But Nyanta did not reject Wagahai,” Shige frowns.
“Nyanta loves everyone, neh~” Koyama coos at his cat, a small wistful smile on his face. Then, like the cat knows when it is being talked about, it arches out its back and leaps into Shige’s lap.
The debate is lost when Shige sneezes violently but doesn’t move from his seat on the couch.
ii. a starlight in the gloom
Shige likes attention - he wears flashy watches, shiny shoes, printed shirts and huge belts. He’s in a group with seven other individuals, so he thinks it’ll be silly if they all looked the same. He adjusts the collar of his shirt in the mirror and watches Kusano’s reflection make faces at him.
“Those shoes look hideous,” Ryo states a matter-of-factly, browsing casually through a rack of costumes. “Your hair sucks too, Kusano.”
“Ryo-chan!” Koyama admonishes from the other side of the room, barely looking up from polishing the skull buckle of his belt.
“I’m envious of Shige,” Tegoshi compliments with a sincere smile. ”You carry them off so well.”
“Th-thank you.” Shige stammers, taken aback.
Shige tries to suppress the irrational rush of blood to his cheeks: a strange feeling stirs up inside - a bittersweet concoction of jealously and gratification biting at his conscience as he rudely brushes past Tegoshi, face ducked into his collar as he makes his way out of the dressing room. He misses the nervous bite of Tegoshi’s teeth on his lower lip, uncertain if he’d said something offensive, unsure if he’d stepped on toes, unsure whether he should leave for good, too.
A hand ruffles Tegoshi’s hair - soft despite how unpolished it looks - and Ryo throws a jacket over his shoulders.
“You look good like this.”
“Th- thanks,” Tegoshi blushes furiously in response. “Ryo-tan has good taste.” The sleeves are still far too long for him, but the grateful look on his face makes everybody else grin in approval.
iii. ’cause there’s beauty in the breakdown
“Do you love Kanjani8 or NEWS more?”
The question is so sudden out of Tegoshi’s mouth Ryo doesn’t have time to react before he immediately claps a hand over his mouth in horror.
“I’m sorry I really didn’t mean to ask that - I really shouldn’t have! I’m sorry, I’m really sorry - ” Ryo snaps his head up to meet Tegoshi’s mortified expression, momentarily stunned into silence by the sheer volume of emotion.
“You shouldn’t have.” They both turn and it’s Shige at the door with a frown on his face. Tears well up immediately in Tegoshi’s eyes, but before Ryo can say anything again the youngest member chokes out one last strangled apology and flees, Shige’s skin tingling where Tegoshi has brushed by him.
“You shouldn’t have, either.” Ryo says, and Shige can’t tell whether the older man is truly angry from the expression on his face.
“It’s just a job.” He mumbles, unable to stop himself, this exasperation with the unhinged dynamics even since they were put together.
“It’s my life,” Ryo says simply, like he’d been expecting this since day one.
Tegoshi goes to apologize to each and every member of Kanjani8 the day after it happened - Ohkura just nods in confusion, Yassu shrieks “I forgive you!” loudly and draws him into a tight hug. Shige stops in his tracks when he passes the Kanjani8 dressing oom on the way to rehearsal, catching on when Tegoshi approaches Yoko and Subaru chatting on the couch, poring over a dubious looking magazine. When Tegoshi bows his head in apology, Shige spies an inappropriate grin blooming on Yoko’s face - he doesn’t know what made him step in.
“Tegoshi!” Shige hisses through his teeth, yanking him by his elbow away from grubby hands.
“What are you doing?”
“Saying I’m sorry?” Tegoshi turns to him with a bewildered look tinged with fear, afraid that he might have said something wrong again.
“We are more than happy to accept your compensation,” Yoko declares, arms outstretched, pleased smile on his face.
Shige tugs at the younger boy’s arm again. “Don’t apologize, NEWS is cooler than them - ”
“WHAT?!”
“Murakami-kun!” Tegoshi squeaks and Shige cowers, because Hina is suddenly towering over them -
“DON’T THINK THAT BECAUSE UCHI IS YOUR FRIEND YOU CAN BE IN HERE.” Hina bellows in their face, hair flying wildly. “BECAUSE HE IS NOT HERE!”
This time, it’s Ryo in the doorway, laughing his head off.
iv. I know you won’t fail
Shige wonders how to do this. This, giving Ryo his new phone number. After all, Ryo did ask, albeit indirectly, but it does nothing to help the tight twist in his stomach when he taps the man on his shoulder and sticks a piece of notepaper in his face.
A raised eyebrow, a rustling sound, a quirk of the mouth, and he accepts.
Shige breathes again.
“About time,” Ryo tears it up, dropping the pieces into the trash as he exits the room with a satisfied smirk on his face - the one with teeth and a spark in his eyes. “Koyama gave me your number ages ago.”
Shige makes a sound like an angry cat. Damn magazines.
v. and all my words were bound to fail
Tegoshi waits patiently his lips pressed to his knees, fingers laced and ankles crossed. He wonders if Nishikido-kun will be angry with him for being rude, so he doesn’t hit “send”.
He almost wears out the hinge of his clamshell phone, the snap of hard plastic strangely satisfying, hypnotizing, comforting.
“Go to bed, Yuya.” Okaasan’s soft voice calls from outside his door. She wonders if she did the right thing, sometimes. Tegoshi’s mother comes in and tucks her reluctant son into bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Nishikido-kun must have been tired, Tegoshi concludes.
When he finally drifts off, his dreams are filled with yelling voices and blank faces. Tegoshi is still asleep when the tiny square lights up with a soft blue glow at seven in the morning, his hands twisted tightly in the sheets.
Even though Ryo apologized profusely that next morning, he spends the whole afternoon unable to move forward, a tension present between his shoulders that only Yamapi notices and smacks his ass for.
“Look,” Yamapi points at Tegoshi as he walks into the room smiling to himself, balancing six cans of cold drink from the vending machine in his hands. “It’s okay.”
vi.ransom notes keep falling out of my mouth
Koyama’s been giving him weird stares, so Ryo tries not to watch so much. But when the two best friends touch each other so much, his skin crawls and his brain threatens to shut down from the conflict. He tells himself that he probably needs to get out more, but he’d signed his life away on a crisp sheet of paper a long time ago. Ryo is in the prime of his youth, but he feels old yet immature, horizons blinkered, ambitions tethered to entertainment. Watching the band progress and evolve around him - he wonders if he has moved with them.
For a while, he lives life through them - latching on to every word Tegoshi offers up willingly about school and life outside work, being interested in Shige’s life (“Intrusive,” Yamapi corrects him on occasion) and getting to know him better (Uchi thinks he should stop speaking in his “Osakan code” of love). Ryo once hated Shige, because he was a slap of reality in the face - that there’s something beyond the life of an idol that he can’t imagine nor experience. Life without work was unconceivable.
Circumstances after work leave him in the same room with Tegoshi and Shige, the atmosphere weird and tangible. When he realizes what he has been feeling, a sudden rush of guilt makes him suggest dinner, an action he knew he’d probably regret. Koyama turns up, having invited himself through Shige, and proceeds to be talk too much, much to Ryo’s annoyance.
“Ryo-chan is so thoughtful, inviting everybody out for dinner!” Koyama waves his chopsticks cheerfully in the air.
“You weren’t invited, stupid.”
“Ryo-tan!” Tegoshi puts a piece of sashimi into Ryo’s bowl in an attempt to placate him.
Shige makes a frustrated growl at the back of his throat, which earns him a skeptical look from Ryo, but he just doesn’t care anymore, doesn’t care about what Ryo thinks about him, what Ryo thinks he thinks of Ryo.
Even when he gets the best pieces of fish stuffed in his face, no, not really.
Ryo still talks to Uchi often about how the band is doing, and after a NEWS filming session Uchi calls and he picks up, surrounded by camera equipment and the damp chill of the set. Koyama and Shige are fooling around on somewhere as Yamapi takes his individual shots, sharkish grin and promoting wastage of water.
“Yo. Dinner?”
“Yea.” Tegoshi and Massu walk past, singing their lines from the B-side to their latest single at the top of their voices, Ryo cringing at the crooning.
“I want to speak to Tegoshi! He sounds grown up!”
“Oh, you don’t know,” He groans and catches the younger boy by the sleeve, shoving the cell phone in his face. “A girl wants to speak to you.”
Tegoshi gives him a puzzled look, but presses the phone to his ear anyway, sparking with laughter when he realizes who’s on the other line.
“Tegonyan~ How are you?” Uchi’s voice is tinny but so very happy through the phone.
“I’m good! How is Uchi-kun?”
“Ryo-chan likes you,” Tegoshi starts a little at his sudden change of topic, glancing nervously over at Ryo. “He just thinks he’d corrupt you.”
Tegoshi is silent for a while, fiddling with the last button on his jacket. “I know,” he says, smiling even though he knows Uchi can’t see him, because he knows Uchi really cares.
“I know, so I’m less shy, neh.”
“Look, this is what you must do, alright?”
vii. I was difficult to reach but you picked me
it is televised truth that Tegoshi can dance and do the hip thing now, but he still talks like rapid gunfire when he’s nervous. Sometimes he still goes to his most admired senpai Yamashita-kun and tells him everything in a rush of breath (like why he likes Ryo even though he worries it’s just senpai-admiration, how it’s different from his feelings for Yamashita-kun, but he loves Yamashita-kun too). Yamapi would often have a derailed expression on his face afterwards, but what most people don’t know it’s a practiced skill so it doesn’t overwhelm him, and Yamapi always remembers. Sometimes he acts accordingly to what he thinks would be the best.
“Tell them,” Yamapi drawls lazily over the buzz of the television the following Sunday afternoon.
“Tell who?” Jin speaks through a mouthful of chips and it makes Ryo want to stuff his face with cushion.
“No.” Ryo deadpans.
“You need to stop treating them like children, Ryo-chan.”
“Hah, Ryo needs to stop behaving like one - ah stop the fuck you bastard - ”
Ryo thinks if there’s one thing Jin should have shut his mouth about, it was his collarbones, but he can’t shut it now because he’s shrieking as Ryo mercilessly digs fingers into the grooves. Limbs flail and there is kicking that almost upsets the popcorn bowl but knocks the game controllers off the coffee table(“Oh thank goodness!” says Yamapi gratefully).
“Tegoshi and Shige are special~” Yamapi squeals in delight when the fight spills over to his side of the couch.
“Why do you always pick on me?” Jin wails.
“That’s thinking too highly of yourself there, Bakanishi.”
Ryo would have jumped on his leader if the other half of stupid had not decided to hold him back.
viii. let’s conspire to re-ignite
He’s practicing late in the rehearsal rooms, his limbs feel heavy and lethargic even though he’d just started an hour ago. Just one snap, one body-pop with a quick whip of hair - one after the other, accented with an edge of hip - but its not perfect. Tegoshi presses against the mirror, feeling the cool of the glass on his eyelids, trying to calm himself down enough to hear the music over the roar of frustration in his head.
Shige was heading out, looking forward to a nice warm soak and a night with his new book, when he sees movement out of the corner of his eyes in one of the practice rooms. Peering carefully around the door - you can never be too cautious in these areas of the jimusho - he finds the youngest member of the band with his back to him, mumbling to himself. He swivels on his heel to leave, but when Tegoshi picks himself off the mirror and restarts his routine - the feeling is disconcertingly familiar, the slump of slight shoulders tugging at his conscience. That’s when Shige steps in, squashing the twinge of jealous - walking over to the stereo, he drops his bag and plugs his player in, picking out the tracks.
Tegoshi turns to him with wide eyes, caught unaware that somebody had been watching - and suddenly it’s Shige, taking his place in front of the mirror with eyes fixed straight ahead, chin set in a determined fashion.
“If you tilt your head a little like that before you have to do this it might be easier,” Shige instructs and demonstrates. “I’ve tried it before.”
Their eyes meet in the mirror and Tegoshi is touched by the sincerity that Shige tries to hide; it warms him from inside out. Counting down aloud to his cue with renewed enthusiasm, they dance unafraid, uninhibited, moves becoming sharper and cleaner with each repetition.
When the music stops looping and they are sprawled on the floor, still breathing in sync, he remembers that even Yamashita-kun had friends who danced with him back then.
“Thank you.” He finds Shige’s hand on the floor squeezes it.
Shige squeezes back, hard (It must be that part of Osaka that Ryo has too, Tegoshi thinks).
“I needed the practice,” Shige says to the ceiling. “Besides, it’s no fun dancing alone.”
Tegoshi nods and smiles silently.
ix. I’ve touched this place before somewhere in another time
“Ryo-tan.”
“Yes, Tegonyan?”
“Do you love me?”
Ryo’s eyebrows shoot up into his fringe - the bass thumps loudly in the background, but not loud enough for him to mishear the question. Tegoshi has a small smile on his lips, eyes shining like stars in the dimmed lights.
“Yamapi, I’ll kill you!” Ryo yells at the leader of NEWS over the noise of a party well under way.
“You let Tegoshi drink!”
“He’s legal, Ryo-chan!” Yamapi yells back from the other end of the room, face contorted from the burn of downing a tequila shot with Jin. Kame has a hand on Yamapi’s forearm, eyes glassy, looking more than a little out of it. Jin reaches over to help keep the man on his feet as Yamapi pours them a final drink.
“So what?”
Yamapi just waves his hands dismissively, leaning over Kame to whisper in Jin’s ear.
“Horny bitches,” Ryo curses, lighting up but not taking a drag, when Jin turns his head to smirk at him over Kame’s shoulder, like he’s got something Ryo doesn’t, grabbing his two friends by the elbows to drag them towards his bedroom.
“I’m not drunk,” Tegoshi says patiently, holding up his glass to recapture Ryo’s attention, swirling the clear liquid.
“Talk to me when you are sober.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
His arms automatically cross over his chest when Tegoshi leans a little closer, grazing at the very edge of his personal bubble. Tegoshi sighs, almost like Koyama would, like he was dealing with a petulant child. Tegoshi gently sets the glass down on the impossibly cluttered cocktail table without taking his eyes off Ryo. He moves forward so slowly and smoothly Ryo doesn’t realize he has, until he feels warm breath on his face - Tegoshi wasn’t lying, he grudgingly admits. At this distance, the boy smells sweet and innocent, no trace of the sharp sour tang of alcohol in his breath. He tries not to think of how inviting Tegoshi’s mouth suddenly seems, curled at the corners, lips a pale pink and lightly pressed together.
So tempting and alluring, like forbidden fruit that heralds his downfall. He makes excuses in his head - it’s not meant to be, someone like him, even if he can scrape by and attempt to cheat reality, it is always still too early, but never too late.
“You love Shige.” Tegoshi says with a knowing look.
The lack of question makes Ryo flinch, but the couch meets the back of his head and there is nowhere for him to run, so he doesn’t. His eyes follow Tegoshi’s as they flicker to where Shige is perched on a bar stool, chatting idly with Koyama.
“You’re saying I have bad taste,” Ryo makes a face, and it makes Tegoshi giggle. “Entirely unconvincing.”
He’s in Ryo’s lap now, running fingers down the front of his dress shirt, playing with the buttons. Ryo flicks the ash off the end of his first and last cigarette of the night before stubbing it out. He chooses to sit on his hands, even though he should be using them to push Tegoshi off - not to be wanting to grab them and do bad things with them. Tegoshi’s still naïve; holding on to romantic ideals behind his cheap lyrics. With this groupd,Ryo feels more responsible for certain things and people he’d never been before.
“Stop holding back,” Tegoshi toys with the collar of his shirt. “Uchi says Ryo-tan is very shy.”
“What?” Ryo splutters angrily. “I am not!”
“I’ll have to force myself on you,” Tegoshi smiles coquettishly, “Shige too.”
Ryo knew it was a bad idea to let them talk; they gossip like girls and nothing good ever comes out of it. However, he immediately changes his mind when Tegoshi takes the situation into his own hands and presses their lips together, softly yet demanding, like he always is with his demure smile and sharp eyes. Ryo fights it, but the want is like an itch that needs to be scratched; sensibility overwhelmed by sensations - need takes over and he kisses back, softly, like it would hurt. His heart is in his throat with every sweep of tongue, clink of teeth - they are where everyone can see, but no one is really watching.
Shige chooses to look over the moment they choose to break apart for air, breathing fast with Tegoshi’s fingers twined in Ryo’s hair. Time drags and the smoky air swirls around him as two pairs of eyes glitter at him in the darkness when they notice his attention, faces angled slightly in his direction. With cheeks touching, lips joined at the edge - they to bask in it, just as tantalizing and provocative to each other as they are to him. They want him to see; watching him out of the corner of their eyes while they kiss - it goes straight down, settling into a constant ache between his legs.
He feels like a voyeur, a ghost of an outsider walking through the living, through those burning with a passion for what they do, those with dreams they carry proudly in their hearts. Shige shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and the next thing he knows he’s standing in front of them, Ryo putting Tegoshi’s hand into his. He thinks Ryo might have curled a beckoning finger, but the smoky air is occluding his rational mind, the memory of his body having moved thick and liquid in his consciousness.
“Take him home.”
“Huh?”
“I want this kid home.” Ryo flicks his lighter in what Shige thinks is an arrogant manner.
“I’m not a kid.” Tegoshi murmurs, putting on his best pout.
“Do I have any say in this?”
“Shige-kun, will you drive me home?”
“Drive him yourself.” Shige spits his words, ignoring the younger boy.
“Be careful when you drive,” Ryo’s hard black eyes burn into him, leaving him hot under the collar and at a loss for words. His hand burns where Ryo is holding it; fighting the urge to snatch his hand away but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away. He fidgets and Tegoshi squirms in Ryo’s lap, then he can’t take it anymore - Tegoshi is dragged to his feet with a surprised yelp, past a grinning Koyama and out into the corridor.
Shige holds his wrist all the way to where the car is parked around the street corner, letting go when they clamber into their seats, the purr of the engine loud and obscene in the quiet night. He imagines pinning Tegoshi against the car seat when he throws the car into gear, pushing forward for delightful friction when he steps on the gas, and god, it is not helping him drive safely.
“Shige.” Tegoshi says suddenly, making Shige suddenly realize they’ve been cruising in silence for a good ten minutes, and that the boy had been trying to get his attention for the last five. Obviously there was only so much his mind could focus on, driving, and - well.
“What?”
“Shige? Shige!” Tegoshi singsongs, and he almost misses the ramp off the highway. “I want some music!”
He fiddles with the radio, turns it on, making Shige wonder why he’d even asked. When he finally draws up in front of Tegoshi’s house, his knuckles have gone white-hot from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. His head aches from the effort of looking straight ahead and ignoring the NEWS singer belting out his name over random music.
“We’re here!” Tegoshi announces, looking at Shige crookedly, his head tilted against the glass window while making no move to get out. Shige makes a frustrated noise with his tongue.
“Tegoshi - ”
Suddenly there is sweetness in his mouth where Tegoshi is kissing him tongue tracing his lower lip, the taste fruity, so soft and fresh at this time of the night it’s almost funny. Fingers are in his hair by then, and he responds hungrily, almost desperate.
But Tegoshi’s the one who gently pulls away, and somehow his hands are over Shige’s, soft and cool in contrast to his own.
“I like you, you know.”
Shige is both confused and stunned into silence by the revelation: he would have expected Ryo’s name instead.
“I like you both,” His voice is a whisper now, his gaze a little sad but true.
x. and tonight we can truly say together we are invincible
For once, he doesn’t try to arrive as late as he can without pissing important people off - Shige takes the stairs two at a time, drink bottles clinking in his bags as he pauses on the last step, finding Tegoshi at the doorstep with a hesitant look on his face. They reach for the doorbell at the same time, physical contact buzzing like electricity.
Ryo opens the door to flushed faces looking in opposite directions, a hand resting on the doorframe and holding a kitchen knife in the other.
“It’s only four-thirty,” he remarks, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Let’s be civil to each other,” Shige blurts out hurriedly when he sees the glint in Ryo’s eyes.
“You can help with the food,” he orders, letting them in.
Tegoshi laughs at the pink frilly apron Ryo makes Shige wear, because he’s got the blue one and that automatically makes him better (“Are you five?” Shige rolls his eyes). Ryo has on a checkered yellow and white apron, so Shige calls him the Sunshine Boy, and ends up being backed onto the corner where Tegoshi has to save him from raw eel being stuffed down his mouth.
“Shige is no help,” Ryo barks, when he sees that Shige is faster at the slicing and dicing than he is.
“Shige can do everything!” Tegoshi laughs from where he stands between them, looping his arms around their waists and dragging them both closer to him, aligning their hips along the countertop. “Ryo can, too.”
The confined kitchen space of a Tokyo apartment made for one results in less than occasional touches, comical crashes and mutually awkward dodging on Shige and Ryo’s part, but eventually dinner is made and the table is set.
“Shige has rice on his face,” Tegoshi bends over and picks it off Shige’s chin with his fingers.
“That is so un-sexy.”
“I think he just needs to take off his shirt, Ryo-tan.” Tegoshi teases, and Shige’s face goes red from the very memory he’d wanted people to remember him for.
“Is this okay?” Ryo asks from behind his wine glass, his words warbled around the glass.
He’s referring to them, the three of them, now, sitting around the table, drinking the red wine Shige brought. They’d run out of excuses to keep their mouths occupied when they finished the food, the atmosphere becoming noticeably thicker. None of them really knows how it has come down to this, but it has. The real reason why Ryo asked them over; the real reason why Shige and Tegoshi agreed. Sex isn’t always the best way to solve problems between people, but between the three of them, nothing seems impossible anymore.
“Things should be as simple as they can.” Shige touches his nose nervously.
“I believe - ” Tegoshi starts, and then stops as he bites his lips, aggravating the already chapped skin.
It is nerve wracking, this three-way confession of sorts. Even Tegoshi’s resolve falters, because being grown-up isn’t just about being able to eat barbeque alone no matter how hungry he was. No amount of experience can suppress the anxious flutter - even if it isn’t their first time confessing their feelings for another - the wrench of the heart as they perch awkwardly at the edges of their chairs, because it would be the first for the three of them together.
Ryo thumbs Tegoshi’s cheek gently as they fall silent, there is no need for words to express what they feel, what they want.
“Shige,” Ryo says, and he leans closer to Shige, pulling him in with a hand around his neck.
Shige can smell the lingering scent of wine on Ryo’s lips before he tastes it, lips grazing lightly over his, the first kiss is tentative, restrained, like he’s testing the waters, afraid of making a mistake. When they part gasping for air, Shige realizes he’d forgotten to breathe from the way his lungs are burning.
One good thing about round tables is that the three of them are sitting next to each other, but it gets in the way when Tegoshi leans in to steal kisses from the edges of their mouths; all of a sudden they are unable to keep their hands off each other. They stumble out of their chairs, dishes forgotten - Ryo has his hands on Shige’s hips, pulling their bodies closer, and Shige feels the heat pool at the base of his stomach. The second, third, fourth and fifth kisses are less shy, more harsh and needy, Ryo dragging his teeth along Shige’s swollen lips.
“Hey,” Tegoshi whines because he can, slipping between them. “It’s important to share.”
Shige’s hands automatically threads into Tegoshi’s hair as they kiss, feeling hands wandering on his chest, undoing the buttons on his shirt. Ryo makes an impatient sound and slides his hands up Tegoshi’s shirt from behind, the younger boy squirming under his touch, the resulting friction making Shige groan.
“I don’t mind,” Shige mumbles into Tegoshi’s mouth, grabbing at Ryo’s shirt and they pin the younger boy between them. There’s an undercurrent of competition, the fight for control, and it’s making them all hard, touches getting increasingly frantic. When Ryo cups Tegoshi through his jeans the younger boy arches up into Shige with a cry, and the hard contact of Ryo’s hand and Tegoshi’s excitement against his own drives Shige crazy. Twisting his hand in the boy’s hair, he draws his head back to bite at skin of his neck, making him yelp as Shige leaves red marks behind.
“I knew you had it in you,” Ryo grins smugly at him over Tegoshi’s shoulder.
“Always did,” Shige grumbles at the half-insult.
He hurriedly shrugs off his open shirt and helps the others out of theirs, Tegoshi working his way behind Ryo, leaving light kisses on the back of Ryo’s neck as they both tug off the older man’s shirt. Shige fumbles with the buckle of his belt next, but Tegoshi placing his own over them stops him.
“Wait, wait.” Tegoshi says coyly, arms around Ryo, hooking his thumbs into Shige’s belt loops. He drags them in tandem in the direction of the bedroom.
“This would be better, don’t you think?”
Once inside, they fumble around for a while, trying to get out of too-tight jeans as fast as they can while still trailing hot hands over freshly-bared skin. Completely free of the restrictive material, they pause for a fleeting second that feels like eternity - the awful moment of clarity before taking the plunge, where their soul lays bare and naked in their eyes, the fear of expectations pinned too high weighing down on their shoulders.
There is a quick intake of breath, like the half-beat before the first rush of air against the microphone. An entirely different set of dynamics, the odd-numbered logistics work themselves out when Tegoshi lets himself fall backwards, dragging Shige and Ryo down with him by their wrists - they’d do whatever they please.
“Touch me,” Tegoshi orders Shige, as Ryo reaches over to search his drawers for lubricant.
“You were never polite,” Shige frowns disapprovingly, but complies, wrapping his hand around Tegoshi’s cock. Because when he strokes his length and runs a thumb over the tip, the boy responds most obediently, writhing under his touch. It makes him so achingly hard that when Tegoshi returns the favour; he groans involuntarily and thrusts up into his fist.
“You guys never wait,” Ryo complains, squeezing lube onto his fingers, horny from watching them get each other off.
Tegoshi reaches out with his other hand to cup Ryo’s chin, drawing him in. “And you waited for too long,” He says breathily in between kisses.
Ryo looks over and catches Shige’s eye, and the other understands what he has to do - Shige leans down to capture Tegoshi’s lips, swallowing his moans when Ryo slips his hand between his legs and slides a finger in. Tegoshi is hot and pliant under their hands, fucking himself on Ryo’s fingers, his knuckles as white as the sheets they fist as they work him into a sensuous frenzy - swirls of tongue and a hint of teeth, Shige’s gone down on him now. He doesn’t last for very long, coming quickly with a strangled whimper in Shige’s mouth.
Ryo pulls Shige up for a kiss, tasting Tegoshi on his lips. “Fuck him,” he says, rubbing the lubricant on the both of them.
“You do it.” Shige says, suddenly nervous, the emotion sorely out of place.
“Then fuck me.” Ryo hisses in his ear, making his message clear as turns to settle in front of Tegoshi, his back facing Shige. He watches Ryo press slick fingers into himself, gritting his teeth as he forces himself to relax and making soft abrupt noises when he touches something that makes him feel particularly good. When he sees Tegoshi with his confident come-on curl of lip and glittering dark eyes - he decides that there’s no short end of the stick when he has both.
Tegoshi parts his knees himself, but Ryo hooks hands under them anyway, watching his face crumple slightly as he slides into him - he is gloriously tight and he thinks he could possibly come right there and then if not for Tegoshi’s nails digging into his shoulder and the burn as Shige enters him with a raw groan.
Letting out a small brittle sound, Tegoshi breaks first: snapping his hips forward, hands tangled in Ryo’s hair. They fuck slowly at first, Ryo dictating the pace between them like he’s used to, Shige's fingers in the hollow of his hipbones.
"Fucking hell," Ryo bitches, and Shige is amazed how the man can glare at him like that during sex.
"You fuck like a wimp," He taunts, lips pulled back in a sneer. It sends a shiver down Shige's spine to be looked at like that, every hair standing on its end crying for a comeback, something to put that mouth down, anything at all.
Wordlessly, Shige changes his angle slightly and cuts free from the last of his remaining insecurities, relishing in the dominance, the freefall. Ryo gasps as he thrusts up wildly, the pace suddenly goading in its arrhythmicity, his hands gripping the headboard as Shige fucks him faster, harder, and he fucks Tegoshi faster, harder; Shige's fucking Tegoshi through Ryo faster, harder. Drawn out cries turn into sharp gasps as they pick up momentum, gaining confidence and shedding the awkwardness with every rise and fall.
Tegoshi claws at their bodies, trying to tell them something but the coherency chokes back in his throat as he cracks his head against the mahogany, dropping their names from his lips ryoohfuckryotanshigeshigeshige - Shige has to bite Ryo's ear to elicit sounds more than pants of air, and he does it again and again until Ryo bucks back violently against him in anger.
Something in the depths of their hearts unfurls as they approach the edge, the ache swelling from within, finally surging to the surface - and they come all at once with a great shudder, sweat shining on their necks and hair stuck to their faces.
n.
Morning creeps up on them silently, three warm bodies curled in the midst of crumpled sheets, hands linked in the last conscious thought before having succumbed to sleep.