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Yuuji really can’t say whether bringing in Gojo-sensei was the best idea he’s ever had or the worst mistake he’s ever made.
Right now, pressed up tight between him and Yuuta on the sticky vinyl of this club’s dancefloor, Yuuji’s really thinking it might be the latter. Yuuta’s cock keeps barely brushing against his ass and Gojo-sensei’s is rubbing against his stomach, and the two of them are fucking making out right above him . And no matter how much he whines and squirms, they do not pay him any attention, the bastards.
What the fuck? It’s his birthday!
“Senseiiii!” he gripes, sliding his hands from Gojo-sensei’s chest up and around his neck.
He has to admit the entire predicament is sexy as hell. But it’d be so much hotter if Yuuji was bent over, mouth stuffed full until his nose brushes against white curls, moving back and forth with the force of Yuuta’s cock slamming into his ass.
Yuuji tugs gently at Gojo-sensei’s neck, which jostles the older man enough to break from the kiss. He pulls away with a gasp, and Yuuji stares at his kiss-bitten lips, swollen and wet, and Yuuji wants nothing more than those lips on him. Anywhere. Everywhere .
He tries to reach up on tiptoes to press his mouth to Sensei’s, but the man behind him holds his hips down in a bruising grip. Hands much larger than his own wrap around Yuuji’s wrists and the new point of contact sends a jolt of electricity through him. Yuuji can practically hear it crackling through the air, like the three of them are firecrackers sparkling right here on the dancefloor, and what color firecrackers would they be?
He might be more than a little high right now.
Sensei removes Yuuji’s hands from around his neck, but doesn’t acknowledge Yuuji at all, doesn’t even glance down at him. Instead, his eyes are on Yuuta and there’s a glint in his eye, an uptick of his lips that suggests some silent exchange is going on.
The sparks of electricity leave behind a prickling heat across his skin, and Yuuji’s breath starts to shallow. He wants to yell Look at me, look at me, look at me, please! but he doesn’t dare because— Because not having their attention is somehow better .
Without warning, Yuuji’s arms are thrown behind himself and Gojo-sensei’s hands are replaced by one of Yuuta’s, fingers wrapping tightly around his wrists to hold them in place.
“Wha— What the hell—”
“Yuuta-kun, it seems our little whore is getting needy.”
A shiver creeps down Yuuji’s spine. Oh, shit.
Yuuta hums behind him. “He’s being a bit of a brat about it, though. Don’t you think?”
Sensei nods, a cruel smile slicing across his features. God, his teeth are sharp and Yuuji would do anything to have him bite —
“How should we punish him?”
A thrill sweeps through Yuuji, anticipation bubbling up from deep within his belly.
Fuck , he feels a little dizzy and a lot high. How do they know? How do they know that ignoring him, that talking about him as if he isn’t even there, is exactly what Yuuji needed?
“Mm. I have some ideas, but we’ll need a little more room than this.”
The words bring Yuuji back to himself, to where they are, standing in the middle of this club with lights bathing them in technicolor. He looks around at the nameless faces, pairs of eyes on the three of them. They’re on display — Yuuji’s on display — for everyone to see, and that knowledge forces a moan from Yuuji’s lips, head tipping forward to rest against Sensei’s chest. He squeezes his eyes closed and breathes through his nose to calm himself down because holy hell he’s about to lose it.
Yuuji can hear the smile in Gojo-sensei’s voice as he says, “You got it.”
The world spins for a moment, turning on its axis and shifting gravity with it. Yuuji’s already floating with this insane body high, and the shift momentarily has him hurtling in circles. As soon as it started it’s over, Yuuji’s body and soul reoriented back to Earth as it rights itself, and all of a sudden it’s much quieter. The booming music of the club is muffled now, and the flashes of multicolor against Yuuji’s lids are gone.
“Much better,” Yuuji hears from behind him.
He lifts his head just as Yuuta moves his hands up in the air, and before he even has the chance to look around, his shirt is being lifted over his head.
Gojo-sensei tosses the fabric to the side while Yuuta positions his arms back into place behind himself. Sensei immediately reaches for the button of Yuuji’s pants, and everything’s moving so fast Yuuji’s barely able to stumble out a “Wait” before he’s laid bare before his partners.
Well— one confirmed partner. Hopefully, he’ll be able to get confirmation on the other soon.
A chill settles over Yuuji as cool air wisps over his tanned skin. He finally takes a moment to take in his surroundings. They’re in a dark room, just the three of them. An entire wall is glass, the lights and sounds of the club trickling through into the room, lighting the L-shape couch against the wall. On the opposite side is a bar, empty shelves where liquor should be illuminated with muted pink lights.
“Where are we?” Yuuji mumbles the words, tongue moving too slow with the heavy fog in his brain.
Neither of them answers, choosing instead to move him closer to the glass wall until he recognizes the sea of people they were just swimming in is now below them. Yuuji watches as the moving bodies swirl and coalesce into something formless and unrecognizable, and some part of him outside of himself knows that he’s out of it. Knows he’s crossfaded to shit and he’s probably standing there looking stupid with his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. He’s not sure how long he stays like that, but suddenly Gojo-sensei is no longer in front of him and he’s being bent over, bare chest pressed up against the glass.
No, wait—Sensei is in front of him, but he’s on his knees, hands gripping onto the meat of Yuuji’s thighs, and it’s then that he realizes how painfully fucking hard he is.
Shit.
“Thanks for reserving this private room, Sensei.” Yuuta’s voice pierces through the fog, answering Yuuji’s question without actually answering him , and how long are they going to ignore him, he’s already leaking .
Gojo-sensei’s hands ghost lightly up and down Yuuji’s thighs, inching towards his need then backing away, over and over, getting closer each time.
Yuuji shudders out a breath and rests his forehead against the glass. Staring down at the crowd, he realizes with a start that he’s pressed up against a window above everybody in the club, where anyone — everyone — can see him, see his tits on display pressed up against the glass, and holy shit he’s so fucking hard .
“Mm, something tells me the whore doesn’t really care about privacy though.” Gojo-sensei wraps a hand around Yuuji’s girth, and his hips immediately twitch, moving forward into the touch. Sensei releases him with a cruel laugh, and Yuuji groans in frustration.
Finally, finally, Yuuta speaks to him, gripping Yuuji’s hips harshly to hold him still as he whispers in his ear, “Is that right, angel? You want everyone here to see you?”
He does. God, he really fucking does, doesn’t know why — it was never something that he really considered — but right now, he feels desperate to be taken by the two men around him publicly .
Yuuji opens his mouth, but all that comes out are harsh pants. His tongue is so heavy and thick in his mouth.
There’s a sharp sting against his ass, a loud smack! filling the quiet of the room, and it punches a loud, broken cry from Yuuji’s throat.
“Answer me.” Yuuta’s voice is authoritative, commanding.
Shit, Yuuji loves it when he gets like this.
“Yes,” he finally moans out. “Want it— Want it so bad , Yuuta, I’m— Uh! ”
Sensei licks a wet line up Yuuji’s cock, tongue swirling around the head once before pulling away. Before Yuuji can even think to whine in protest, wet fingers are circling his entrance, and when the hell did Yuuta get lube?
Two fingers are shoved inside him without preamble and Yuuji keens , back bowing in a way that presses his tits even further into the glass, and that sends flames scattering across his skin. He’s already stretched, so the glide of Yuuta’s fingers is easy. They move immediately in search of his prostate, pleasure the goal rather than preparation. Sensei fully takes him in his mouth then, moving languidly up and down his length.
Yuuji throws his head back with a cry, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes because it’s too much it’s so much sensation all at once, so much touch, so many eyes on him, so many people seeing him come apart right here. Jesus Christ, he feels like his body is going to explode, too much adrenaline in his veins, heart pumping too fast, dick so dangerously fucking hard.
“I’m– ahhh , I—” So close. He’s so close way too fast. The fingers inside of him aren’t even pressing that hard into his prostate, the mouth on his dick moving so slow, how can he be so fucking—
“Pathetic,” Sensei chides as he releases Yuuji’s cock.
Yuuta follows suit, fingers withdrawing, and Yuuji wants to fucking cry, wants to throw a goddamn tantrum, why the hell are they treating him this way on his birthday?!
Yuuta releases Yuuji’s hands before reaching around and gripping his chin, forcing him to stretch his neck uncomfortably to look Yuuta in the eye when he says, “Do you really think you deserve it after acting like a brat down there?”
All breath leaves Yuuji’s lungs at once. His head is swimming with warring thoughts, caught between being frustrated that he’s being denied release in front of their audience and being eager for what they have in store for him.
Yuuta releases his jaw, and suddenly he’s being manhandled, flipped and tossed over Yuuta’s shoulder like a goddamn ragdoll. Yuuji’s thrown onto the corner of the couch where it juts out in front of him, a soft “oof” leaving him at the impact. He watches as Gojo-sensei removes his pants and underwear, then crawls onto the sectional in front of him. Yuuta towers over both of them.
God, what a fucking sight it is. Yuuji can feel the cold burn of those two pairs of blue eyes on him so acutely it feels like it’ll consume him from the inside out. His hands twitch with the need to touch himself.
“Ah-ah, Yuuji-kun,” Sensei purrs before removing his shirt. His wicked grin returns as Yuuji drinks in the sight of his lean torso down to his hard length. “Hands at your sides, cockslut.”
Yuuji immediately whines at the name.
“Don’t you want to show us how you can be a good boy, angel?” Yuuta asks, pushing Gojo-sensei down into an arch.
Yuuji nods enthusiastically, hands curling tightly into the couch cushion underneath him.
God, yes. He can be good, wants to be good for them. Only for them.
“Mm, then you’re going to show us how you can be patient. You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself down there; I’m disappointed in you, angel.”
Yuuji whimpers, the corners of his mouth turning down into a frown, brows knitting together because he just disappointed Yuuta .
“Oh, don’t pout like that, baby. You’re gonna show us that you can keep your hands to yourself, okay? No touching Sensei and no touching yourself. And if you’re good, maybe Sensei will stuff that greedy hole of yours.”
Yuuji’s cock jerks at that, precum dribbling from the tip. “ Ohhh fuck . Shit, yeah, yes, okay, shit —”
Gojo-sensei laughs at him, bright eyes sparkling with cruelty. “So fucking desperate, aren’t you? Such a slutty boy.”
“Oh, god,” Yuuji moans, biting down hard on his bottom lip.
Shit yes, Yuuji loves it when Sensei degrades him. Loves how wicked and sadistic he is.
“Yeah, I bet you’re just aching to be filled, huh? Wanna beg for my— UH, fuck, Yuuta —”
He loves it almost as much as he loves watching Yuuta wipe it all away.
The slick, wet sounds of Yuuta opening Gojo-sensei, of Sensei’s whining pants, fill the private room. The lights from the dancefloor paint the room pink, blue, green, so vivid he can almost taste them. He wants to taste the bits of skin illuminated by those lights, wants to see if they taste like watermelon, blue raspberry, green apple.
A particularly high, needy whine jostles Yuuji back to himself.
God, Gojo-sensei looks fucking criminal bent over in front of him like this: eyes squeezed shut, mouth fallen open from the pleasure being wrought from him. Yuuji can’t look away, feels like he might die if he loses a second of the absolutely sinful sight laid out for him.
And Yuuta— God, he looks so damn monstrous , towering over the both of them like that, silhouetted by the club lights, casting a shadow over them. He’s a goddamn sight to behold, broad shoulders hunched over as his fingers drag out of Gojo-sensei and ram back in. His other hand traces the man’s spine, counting each notch with such a gentle touch the contrast must be maddening.
Yuuji’s nails are digging so hard into the cushion he might just rip through it, might owe this place an entire new couch and he wouldn’t even regret it. He’s trying his best, his hardest to be a good boy, to show them that he can be patient, he won’t disappoint, he’ll be good, he’s good—
“Yuuji— Ah, Yuuji ,” Sensei moans, hands reaching forward to slide along Yuuji’s legs, up to his hips.
Oh, fuck, this isn’t fair, they’re playing dirty, this isn’t fair, this isn’t fair—
Sensei lifts himself up, planting one arm on the top of the couch above Yuuji with the other at Yuuji’s side. He stares, half-lidded and panting down at Yuuji.
“Yuuji— Mmm — Kiss me.”
“I— I can’t ,” he nearly sobs out, pain clear in his voice.
God, the things he’d do to feel those lips on his. It’s what he was trying to do on the dancefloor, what got him in trouble in the first place, so he can’t, he can’t .
“C’mon, Yuuji— Ahhh — Please,” Sensei pants above him, and really this is cruel, it’s sick and disturbing, how can they do this to him?
Yuuji only lets out a choked sob, fingers definitely ripping into the upholstery now.
“Aww, baby,” Yuuta speaks up. “You’ve done so well keeping your hands to yourself. I’m so proud of you, angel, you’re so good.”
Yuuji immediately sighs, melting into the sofa because he’s good , he made him proud, holy shit.
“You can kiss him, angel.”
As soon as the confirmation hits his ears, Yuuji’s mouth is on Gojo-sensei’s, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Finally. The light from the window has been reflecting off of those glossy lips, painting them in that fluorescent pink, and Yuuji wants to taste the color for himself.
Sensei’s lips are so soft Yuuji’s mind can’t help but zero in on it, focusing all of his attention on the slow drag of plush pink skin against his own. At one point, he sucks Sensei’s bottom lip into his mouth, feeling the smooth wet flesh against his tongue, tasting the scorching hot pink saturation.
Sensei breaks away from the kiss, panting, and before he can say anything, Yuuji’s mouth is back on him, licking into his mouth with fervor.
Gojo-sensei tastes like candy. Gojo-sensei is candy.
God, he’s so fucking high.
Sensei makes a high, broken sound and breaks away again. He presses a hand to Yuuji’s chest to keep him from latching on once again and says, “I need to be inside of you. Now .”
Yes, yes , shit yes, he wants Gojo-sensei inside him immediately, but Yuuji still hesitates. He knows better than to give in so easily, so he looks over Sensei’s shoulder to meet Yuuta’s gaze, a question hanging in the silence between them.
The small curl at the corner of Yuuta’s lips feels like a goddamn gift.
“That’s right, baby, you’re so good asking for permission.” He suddenly snaps his hips forward, and Gojo-sensei tumbles forward with a scream, nearly falling into Yuuji. “ Someone forgot to ask.”
Yuuji watches as he pulls his hips back, and he must completely remove himself from inside Sensei because the man chokes out a sobbed No right in Yuuji’s ear, and it sends a shiver down Yuuji’s spine.
Sensei attempts to roll his hips back into him, but Yuuta holds them in place, his lips set into a hard line.
“Well?” There’s that authoritative tone again, and even though it isn’t directed at Yuuji, he still whimpers in response.
“‘M sorry, sorry, Yuuta. Please, can I? Please, please , I need to—”
Gojo-sensei’s lips fall open on a silent scream as Yuuta slams into him once more, strangled noises escaping as he tries to catch his breath.
“Yuuji, angel, scoot down a bit. Yeah, just like that. Okay, reach down and grab Sensei’s cock.”
The warmth of Gojo-sensei’s length is near scalding in Yuuji’s hand. He pumps it once, warning him a breathy moan, and holy shit he needs this so bad he might just combust.
“Press the tip of him to your tight little hole, baby. Ugh , I fucking love your moans, angel, sound so pretty for me.”
The praise brings out another whimpered moan as Yuuji rocks his hips into the cock pressing against his hole, not daring to actually take him inside. He doesn’t have permission yet.
“Alright, baby, push in just the tip. Just the tip, okay?”
Oh Christ, the pathetic amount of relief Yuuji feels as the head finally sinks into him is nearly embarrassing. He moans brokenly at the small stretch, and then all too soon it’s not enough.
“Good job, baby,” Yuuta purrs, leaning over to kiss Gojo-sensei’s shoulder. “Put your arms around his neck, now. Yes, you’re perfect, angel.”
Yuuji immediately dives in for another kiss, arms around Gojo-sensei’s neck pulling him in to meet halfway. Sensei opens for him, letting Yuuji taste him once more, and suddenly Sensei’s cock is shoved inside of him in one swoop.
“ UH– shit! ” Yuuji breaks away from the kiss, head falling back against the cushion.
It’s like a dam breaks, all of Yuuta’s control now lost as he pushes into Gojo-sensei and pulls out, moving Sensei’s hips with him. Each movement causes Gojo-sensei to move inside of Yuuji, and it’s so overwhelming. Yuuji doesn’t know where to look; his eyes bounce from Yuuta’s face to Sensei’s, then to where they each connect — Yuuta to Gojo-sensei, Gojo-sensei to him.
And god , the force of Yuuta snapping into Sensei is so brutal . Yuuji can feel it in the delicious burn filling him up, and shit does Sensei fill him up . The fucking fullness of it—
“Yuuji,” Yuuta’s voice pulls his attention back. “Who’s fucking you, right now?”
Yuuji curses viciously, panting, sweating, and meets Gojo-sensei’s eyes. Those burning blue eyes that he never imagined would be looking at him in this way, in this context. It’s a dream, these past two weeks have been a goddamn dream .
“Sensei,” Yuuji breathes. “Gojo-sensei’s fucking me.”
Yuuta stills for a moment, then grips Sensei’s hips hard and slams into him, violent and possessive. It causes Gojo-sensei’s cock to bury deeper inside of him, and Yuuji is reeling .
“Try again,” Yuuta commands.
Oh, god. Jesus, fuck it’s—
“You, it’s you, you’re fucking me, of course you’re fucking me, Yuuta, shit —”
Yuuta hums, pleased, and picks up the pace. “That’s— fucking right, baby— God , you look incredible under us, roll your hips, baby. Yeah, just like that, such a good boy, you’re such a good boy, baby—”
Yuuji’s not sure what’s coming out of his mouth, but he can’t seem to stop it. His whole body feels like it’s lit up from the inside, scorching and exhilarating and almost terrifying.
Yuuta reaches forward and grips strands of white hair tightly, forcing Gojo-sensei’s head up, and Yuuji can see tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
God, he’s so beautiful , Yuuji’s so lucky , he loves him, he fucking loves him.
“Open your mouth, Satoru.”
Sensei follows Yuuta’s command immediately, mouth falling open to reveal his wet pink tongue, and shit , he looks obscene .
“Do you wanna cum on his face, Yuuji?”
Yuuji chokes on air, has to dig his nails into his arms to keep himself from cumming right fucking now. Shit, he’s covered in sweat.
Taking a deep breath through his nose, he finally says, “Ye– Uhhh, yessss—fuck, please. I want it, IwantitIwantit— ”
Yuuta shoves Gojo-sensei’s head down, then, forcing him to curl over in a way that doesn’t seem very comfortable, but Sensei moans at the manhandling all the same.
Yuuji takes hold of his own cock, holding it at the right angle, and he nearly keens at the touch.
“Do it,” Yuuta commands. “Do it now, cum on his face, Yuuji.”
Just like that, he’s cumming. He didn’t even have to stroke himself, he’s just fucking cumming all over Sensei’s face, and Sensei makes a broken sound when he feels it, when Yuuji’s cum paints him and holy hell he just keeps cumming .
By the time the waves of pleasure finally peter out, Yuuji’s throat feels hoarse and both Gojo-sensei and Yuuta are still above him, panting and a little wobbly.
They all huddle together, and then Gojo-sensei teleports them back into their apartment, where they all eventually clean up and drink copious amounts of water. Yuuji’s essentially sober now, but he still has to deal with a bit of cottonmouth.
Yuuta and Yuuji are huddled together on the bed when Gojo-sensei walks out of the bathroom, drying off his hair with a towel. He doesn’t meet either of their gazes, and there’s a small frown on his face, pink in his cheeks that sets Yuuji a little on edge.
“Hey, Sensei,” Yuuji starts, but Gojo-sensei immediately cuts him off.
“Don't worry about the couch,” he says, pulling on his pants before grabbing his shirt. “I know the owner, and I can replace it for them.” He pulls on the shirt and looks around for his jacket.
Yuuta speaks up then. “Wait, hold on—”
“Well,” Gojo-sensei interrupts again once he finds his jacket, punching his arms through the sleeves. “I guess this is— Well, these two weeks have been— Ah, I hope you two have had great birthdays.”
He fidgets as he fumbles, eyes darting anywhere but on the two of them. His throat bobs as he swallows.
This is— They have never seen Gojo-sensei act like this before like he’s unsure. It's incredibly disconcerting.
“Sensei, come here.” Yuuji pats the bed beside him. When he doesn’t move, Yuuji emphasizes, “It’s still my birthday, Gojo-sensei, come here.”
Gojo still hesitates, features twisting into a pained expression for a moment before finally giving in, plopping down onto the blankets with a huff. He’s so rigid, still not meeting either of their gazes.
"Still needy, Yuuji-kun?" What's meant to be a teasing tone falls flat, sounding wrong in Yuuji's ears.
Yuuji shares a look with Yuuta, the both of them unsure of what to make of this.
“Baby, are you dropping?” Yuuta asks, voice soft. “What do you need?”
Gojo-sensei laughs bitterly at that, then clears his throat. He paints on his typical smirk and finally faces them.
“Aww, is my student trying to take care of me? So sweet, Yuuta-kun. I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry about me.”
“You will be fine,” Yuuji repeats, staring into those now impassive blue eyes. “But you’re not right now.”
Sensei’s smirk falters for a moment and then he looks away again, wringing his hands.
Fuck, this isn’t how this was supposed to go. They were supposed to come home, clean up, and cuddle, order some takeout, maybe watch a movie or something. But now something’s wrong, and Gojo-sensei won’t tell them.
“Sensei,” Yuuji whispers, a bit of his desperation leaking into his voice.
Sensei sighs, long and low, and slumps back against the headboard. “I’m just a little… I don’t know… Unsettled.”
“Talk to us,” Yuuta insists, reaching behind Yuuji to run his fingers through Gojo-sensei’s hair. “What’s going through your mind?”
Sensei leans into the touch, eyes closing as he takes in a deep breath. “Leaving the two of you is harder than I thought it would be,” he finally admits.
Yuuji and Yuuta both freeze at that, sharing a shocked look before nearly shouting “What?”
“Gojo-sensei, why are you leaving?” Yuuji grabs his arm, leaning into him. “Don’t— You don’t have to, why— If it’s hard, then don’t .”
“Yeah” — Yuuta continues running his fingers along Sensei’s scalp — “It’s as simple as that. Just stay.”
“No, I mean—” Gojo-sensei bites his lip, nostrils flaring. “Okay, so I stay the night. What then? Your birthday weeks are over. I have fulfilled my duties or whatever. It’s time for me to go.”
Yuuji places a hand on Sensei’s cheek, forcing him to look towards them.
“Gojo-sensei, I’m not sure if this is the right time…” He looks over at Yuuta, who takes over.
“No, it needs to be said now.” He takes Yuuji’s hand in his and leans closer. “Listen, Sensei — Satoru — we both have talked about this, and we don’t want to pressure you or anything; we realize this might be a little sudden and—”
“We love you,” Yuuji blurts out, cheeks burning hotter than they ever have these past two weeks. “We— I love you and Yuuta loves you.” Yuuji looks over to see Yuuta nodding. “We… want to be with you. Officially. Like… committed? If that’s something… you’re interested in?”
“Again, we don’t want to pressure you, we know it’s a lot to process a love confession, let alone two , but we really are in love with you, and you fit so well into this relationship. It would’ve been devastating if we let the opportunity to confess just slip by, so we decided we’d do it tonight over dinner, but it just seemed like you were trying to leave and you’re unsure about where to go from here, so we just—”
“Baby,” Yuuji whispers, “I think we’re talking too much.”
Gojo-sensei is staring, frozen and wide-eyed, at the two of them. He’s completely silent, and suddenly, Yuuji feels the ice-cold chill of anxiety in his veins.
Dammit, they fucked this up. They’re so stupid, they should’ve kept this to themselves, they could’ve waited to tell him they loved him! That’s way too much and now he’s going to leave and never come back and things will be awkward between them any time they have a mission together or are called in for a meeting. God , how could they be so stupid —
“Yes,” Sensei croaks out.
There’s a moment of silence as they all take that in. And then suddenly they’re all speaking.
“Huh?”
“What?”
“Wait, no—”
Another pause where they each stare at each other for a moment. They all burst into fits of laughter, the awkward tension in the air nearly dissipating with it as they fall into each other, wiping at tears.
Once he finally gains breath, Gojo-sensei explains. “Yes, I want to be a part of your relationship.” He beams, then. A real smile, not the sly smirk he uses as a mask — a real, genuine smile that reaches the corners of his eyes. “I love you both. Have for a while, admittedly.”
Yuuji bites back a smile, trying his best not to leap into Sensei’s lap at the confession because he’s clearly not finished talking.
Gojo-sensei rubs the back of his neck. “Thought this opportunity to sleep with the two of you would help me get over it. Like I’d finally know what it’d be like to touch you, hold you, and be satiated.” He laughs wryly. “I… am not satiated.”
“Good!” Yuuta’s smile is bright, and he’s sagging forward like his entire body deflated in relief. “Good, that’s so good.”
“Think you have any other adjectives in that vocabulary of yours, Yuuta-kun?” Sensei teases.
Yuuji can’t hold it back, anymore. He jumps straight onto Sensei’s lap and latches on like some oversized koala.
“Sensei! Ah, I’m so happy! This is the best birthday, oh my god!”
He feels another pair of arms wrap around them, and then Yuuta is pulling them all down into a pile in the middle of the bed.
Holy shit.
They’re home .