[Contest: New] [R]
Title: Three’s a Crowd
Author: cuethe_pulse
Prompt: New
Rating: Soft R
Characters/Pairings: Kahoko/Ryoutarou/Len…or some combination of the three
Summary: This whole situation is new to all of them.
Ryoutarou didn’t sleep much the first time Len stayed the night with them.
They didn’t do anything, which was, admittedly, a relief, but it didn’t make things any less weird. They stretched out on the pull-out couch and watched opera DVDs. La Boheme, Die Zauberflöte, La Traviata.
Kahoko held both of their hands underneath the blanket they shared. Ryoutarou tried not to care, because he was fine with this, because that was what he’d told her a month ago when she’d brought the whole thing up. It hadn’t been a surprise. Not completely. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew how she felt about Len. He just hadn’t really expected her to ask if she could bring him into their relationship.
He felt her squeeze his hand, and he looked down at where she was snuggling up against his arm as she asked, “This is nice, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t exactly say no. But when a bit of movement caught his eye and he noticed her foot was moving slowly along Len’s leg, he couldn’t exactly say yes, either.
[--]
Ryoutarou wasn’t there the first time she had sex with Len.
He found out about it a couple of days later, when Kahoko’s wet, naked back was pressed against his chest in the bathtub. He frowned a little, since she wasn’t looking at him, and flicked idly at the strawberry-scented bubbles that surrounded them.
“How was it?” he asked.
“You really want to know?”
He shrugged, unsure of where his interest was really coming from. If it was coming from a place that was pure jealousy and competition, why did thinking about it make his skin warm and his groin stir?
His silence must’ve been unnerving, because seconds later, Kahoko was teasing, “You just want to know if he’s better than you.”
“Not really.” Ryoutarou smirked; this playfulness was familiar territory. He moved closer and bent down, kissing the tip of her ear and making her shiver. “I know I’m better than him.” And he set about proving this to her as he slid his hands down between her thighs.
[--]
The first fight happened at Kahoko’s favorite restaurant. Dinner itself was amicable enough, but things went sour the moment Ryoutarou started to take out his wallet and said, “My treat.”
Len cleared his throat, quietly, to stop him. “Let me.”
“No, that’s all right, I got-”
“You had trouble making rent last month.”
Ryoutarou had almost forgotten how easily Len Tsukimori could make his blood boil just by speaking. His hands clenched and he looked across the table at Kahoko with a glare that might’ve been harsher than he’d intended. She glanced away and he scowled, unable to decide who he was angrier with.
“Yes,” he bit out, “but-although I don’t see how it’s any of your business-I’m fine this month.”
“Look, I was just trying to-”
“Well, I don’t need you to!” He lowered his voice, a little; people were starting to stare. “You can take care of Kaho if you want, but I can pay for myself, understand?”
Len nodded, held up his hands in defeat. “Understood.”
“Why did you have to make such a big deal out it?”
Len had declined the invitation to come back to their place-a decision Ryoutarou was starting to resent, if only because Kahoko never argued with him when Len was around. “Why did you have to tell him about the rent?”
“That’s-” Her cheeks reddened guiltily. “It just came out when we were talking about you!”
“Why were you talking about me?”
“Why wouldn’t we? Ryoutarou-” She stopped walking and grabbed his arm, making him do the same. “You’ve let me pay for you before. Len paying isn’t any different.”
“It is different.” He jerked his arm away. “He’s your boyfriend, not mine.” Something in those words made his chest tighten in an uncomfortable, horrible way; he didn’t know what it was and he didn’t want to think too hard about it.
She opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t, so he kept walking. When he got home, he was alone.
[--]
Ryoutarou walked into the kitchen one morning to find Len examining at the coffee maker with narrowed eyes and a confusion-knit brow. “Having trouble?”
Len looked over his shoulder, looking vaguely embarrassed. “I never had to make coffee for myself.”
“I’m shocked.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against a kitchen counter and arched an eyebrow. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He watched in amusement as Len pursed his lips and, after a moment, gave up and went to the fridge to get juice instead. “I’m glad you can make yourself at home here,” he said in a voice that hardly sounded glad. “I know this place must seem like a shack compared to your grand estate.”
“It’s not that bad.” Len poured his juice and glanced pointedly at Ryoutarou when he added, “Gets a bit cold, though.”
Ryoutarou said nothing for a while. They stood in silence, Len taking slow sips of his juice. It wasn’t until he heard the shower water running that Ryoutarou found the words he wanted to say.
“This is hard for me.”
“You think you’re the only one?”
Ryoutarou didn’t even noticed he’d moved until he was right there-in the same position he’d been in so many times in high school, standing closer to the other man than he probably should’ve been, hand fisted in the material of his shirt, pulling him even closer. “If you wanted her, why didn’t you go for her years ago? She liked you first, you know. So why’d you wait so damn long? Why’d you wait until after she’d chosen me?” Len looked at him with yielding, submissive eyes that Ryoutarou liked too much; and maybe that was why they always ended up like this and that revelation confused him and just made him angrier. “Why?”
Len lifted his hand to cover the one that was gripping his shirt, and sighed, “You don’t get it.”
[--]
He didn’t get it until a few nights later.
They’d come up with a system: when one of them wanted to spend the night alone with another, they’d ask, “Would you like to come up and see my sheet music?” It was a system that Ryoutarou was rather fond of, since Len found the pick-up line silly and very rarely used it.
But that night, when dinner was over and Kahoko was washing the dishes, Len looked Ryoutarou in the eye and asked, a bit reluctant but completely serious, “Would you like to come up and see my sheet music?”
That couldn’t have been right. “…What?”
“You heard me.”
“Yeah, I heard you, but, I-I don’t-”
He looked at Kahoko, but she was smiling back at him in encouragement; and when they said goodnight, she held his face in her sudsy hands as she kissed him, and she whispered, “Enjoy yourself, okay?”. And finally, he began to understand.
Being with a man was new. Len kissed the way Ryoutarou had thought Kahoko would kiss him when they’d first started dating-soft lips, hesitant tongue. His hands, fingers, were bigger, but they knew what to do-the right places to touch, to linger, the right pressure to add. His body was more angles where Kahoko’s was more curves, and his skin was spicier where hers was sweeter.
His feelings, however, weren’t new. He’d wanted this for years, wanted it so badly it’d scared him and he’d pushed it away, pretended not to know, pretended not to know that Kahoko could see it.
“This-” He groaned as Len’s fingernails raked down his back. “Is this going to make things easier? Or more complicated?”
“I don’t know.” Len inhaled sharply, arched upward as Ryoutarou rocked against him. “Both, I imagine.” He slid his hands up, fingers sifting through green hair. “Do you want to stop?”
Ryoutarou kissed him as the thrusts of their hips grew harder and more urgent. They knew there was no stopping now. They all knew.
[--]
The next night, they were all stretched out on the pull-out couch. They watched Carmen, Tosca, Barber of Seville. Underneath the blanket they shared, Kahoko held one of Ryoutarou’s hands and Len held the other. Their legs, feet, were tangled together.
Ryoutarou could say that this was nice.
Author: cuethe_pulse
Prompt: New
Rating: Soft R
Characters/Pairings: Kahoko/Ryoutarou/Len…or some combination of the three
Summary: This whole situation is new to all of them.
Ryoutarou didn’t sleep much the first time Len stayed the night with them.
They didn’t do anything, which was, admittedly, a relief, but it didn’t make things any less weird. They stretched out on the pull-out couch and watched opera DVDs. La Boheme, Die Zauberflöte, La Traviata.
Kahoko held both of their hands underneath the blanket they shared. Ryoutarou tried not to care, because he was fine with this, because that was what he’d told her a month ago when she’d brought the whole thing up. It hadn’t been a surprise. Not completely. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew how she felt about Len. He just hadn’t really expected her to ask if she could bring him into their relationship.
He felt her squeeze his hand, and he looked down at where she was snuggling up against his arm as she asked, “This is nice, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t exactly say no. But when a bit of movement caught his eye and he noticed her foot was moving slowly along Len’s leg, he couldn’t exactly say yes, either.
[--]
Ryoutarou wasn’t there the first time she had sex with Len.
He found out about it a couple of days later, when Kahoko’s wet, naked back was pressed against his chest in the bathtub. He frowned a little, since she wasn’t looking at him, and flicked idly at the strawberry-scented bubbles that surrounded them.
“How was it?” he asked.
“You really want to know?”
He shrugged, unsure of where his interest was really coming from. If it was coming from a place that was pure jealousy and competition, why did thinking about it make his skin warm and his groin stir?
His silence must’ve been unnerving, because seconds later, Kahoko was teasing, “You just want to know if he’s better than you.”
“Not really.” Ryoutarou smirked; this playfulness was familiar territory. He moved closer and bent down, kissing the tip of her ear and making her shiver. “I know I’m better than him.” And he set about proving this to her as he slid his hands down between her thighs.
[--]
The first fight happened at Kahoko’s favorite restaurant. Dinner itself was amicable enough, but things went sour the moment Ryoutarou started to take out his wallet and said, “My treat.”
Len cleared his throat, quietly, to stop him. “Let me.”
“No, that’s all right, I got-”
“You had trouble making rent last month.”
Ryoutarou had almost forgotten how easily Len Tsukimori could make his blood boil just by speaking. His hands clenched and he looked across the table at Kahoko with a glare that might’ve been harsher than he’d intended. She glanced away and he scowled, unable to decide who he was angrier with.
“Yes,” he bit out, “but-although I don’t see how it’s any of your business-I’m fine this month.”
“Look, I was just trying to-”
“Well, I don’t need you to!” He lowered his voice, a little; people were starting to stare. “You can take care of Kaho if you want, but I can pay for myself, understand?”
Len nodded, held up his hands in defeat. “Understood.”
“Why did you have to make such a big deal out it?”
Len had declined the invitation to come back to their place-a decision Ryoutarou was starting to resent, if only because Kahoko never argued with him when Len was around. “Why did you have to tell him about the rent?”
“That’s-” Her cheeks reddened guiltily. “It just came out when we were talking about you!”
“Why were you talking about me?”
“Why wouldn’t we? Ryoutarou-” She stopped walking and grabbed his arm, making him do the same. “You’ve let me pay for you before. Len paying isn’t any different.”
“It is different.” He jerked his arm away. “He’s your boyfriend, not mine.” Something in those words made his chest tighten in an uncomfortable, horrible way; he didn’t know what it was and he didn’t want to think too hard about it.
She opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t, so he kept walking. When he got home, he was alone.
[--]
Ryoutarou walked into the kitchen one morning to find Len examining at the coffee maker with narrowed eyes and a confusion-knit brow. “Having trouble?”
Len looked over his shoulder, looking vaguely embarrassed. “I never had to make coffee for myself.”
“I’m shocked.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against a kitchen counter and arched an eyebrow. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He watched in amusement as Len pursed his lips and, after a moment, gave up and went to the fridge to get juice instead. “I’m glad you can make yourself at home here,” he said in a voice that hardly sounded glad. “I know this place must seem like a shack compared to your grand estate.”
“It’s not that bad.” Len poured his juice and glanced pointedly at Ryoutarou when he added, “Gets a bit cold, though.”
Ryoutarou said nothing for a while. They stood in silence, Len taking slow sips of his juice. It wasn’t until he heard the shower water running that Ryoutarou found the words he wanted to say.
“This is hard for me.”
“You think you’re the only one?”
Ryoutarou didn’t even noticed he’d moved until he was right there-in the same position he’d been in so many times in high school, standing closer to the other man than he probably should’ve been, hand fisted in the material of his shirt, pulling him even closer. “If you wanted her, why didn’t you go for her years ago? She liked you first, you know. So why’d you wait so damn long? Why’d you wait until after she’d chosen me?” Len looked at him with yielding, submissive eyes that Ryoutarou liked too much; and maybe that was why they always ended up like this and that revelation confused him and just made him angrier. “Why?”
Len lifted his hand to cover the one that was gripping his shirt, and sighed, “You don’t get it.”
[--]
He didn’t get it until a few nights later.
They’d come up with a system: when one of them wanted to spend the night alone with another, they’d ask, “Would you like to come up and see my sheet music?” It was a system that Ryoutarou was rather fond of, since Len found the pick-up line silly and very rarely used it.
But that night, when dinner was over and Kahoko was washing the dishes, Len looked Ryoutarou in the eye and asked, a bit reluctant but completely serious, “Would you like to come up and see my sheet music?”
That couldn’t have been right. “…What?”
“You heard me.”
“Yeah, I heard you, but, I-I don’t-”
He looked at Kahoko, but she was smiling back at him in encouragement; and when they said goodnight, she held his face in her sudsy hands as she kissed him, and she whispered, “Enjoy yourself, okay?”. And finally, he began to understand.
Being with a man was new. Len kissed the way Ryoutarou had thought Kahoko would kiss him when they’d first started dating-soft lips, hesitant tongue. His hands, fingers, were bigger, but they knew what to do-the right places to touch, to linger, the right pressure to add. His body was more angles where Kahoko’s was more curves, and his skin was spicier where hers was sweeter.
His feelings, however, weren’t new. He’d wanted this for years, wanted it so badly it’d scared him and he’d pushed it away, pretended not to know, pretended not to know that Kahoko could see it.
“This-” He groaned as Len’s fingernails raked down his back. “Is this going to make things easier? Or more complicated?”
“I don’t know.” Len inhaled sharply, arched upward as Ryoutarou rocked against him. “Both, I imagine.” He slid his hands up, fingers sifting through green hair. “Do you want to stop?”
Ryoutarou kissed him as the thrusts of their hips grew harder and more urgent. They knew there was no stopping now. They all knew.
[--]
The next night, they were all stretched out on the pull-out couch. They watched Carmen, Tosca, Barber of Seville. Underneath the blanket they shared, Kahoko held one of Ryoutarou’s hands and Len held the other. Their legs, feet, were tangled together.
Ryoutarou could say that this was nice.