Takao removed shoes without needing to be told, curling his toes into the headed hardwood floor. "Ooo," he faked being drunk, smiling at his own theatrics, "Your apartment is fancy, Aka-chin." Hardwood floor gave way to carpet in the living room, so plush that it gave just slightly beneath his feet.

Akashi removed his coat and shrugged, "It serves its purpose." He was the picture of modesty and grace. That, too, was theatrics. Takao caught a glimpse of what lay beneath Akashi's proper veneer, viewed first on Shintarou's back and then in his cool, controlled demeanor at the restaurant. Akashi did not do modest. Not unless it served his ends.

"Your carpet is so soft," he wiggled his toes, taking in the neutrally-toned furniture and dim lighting. Akashi planned ahead, then.

"It's soft on the knees," Akashi said, expression hidden by the scarf around his neck, but Takao knew an innuendo when he heard one. "Make yourself at home."

At Akashi's invitation, Takao wandered further into the apartment. "Your place is huge."

"You're flattering," part accusation, but amusement colored his voice. "My home is average."

"For a businessman, maybe. I could fit two of my dorm rooms in here."

Akashi raised an eyebrow, "Are you suggesting a tryst in your dorm? Takao, how bold."

Laughter followed them into the living room, where Shintarou was already settled on the black leather couch. He left plenty of space for Takao to sit comfortably beside him at their usual, friendly distance. It was cute, really. Kinky Shintarou who came to practice covered in scratches and bruises, embarrassed by something so mundane.

Takao was having none of it. Moving swiftly so he had no time to hesitate, Takao straddled him, a knee placed on either side of Shintarou's lap. His lap was warm beneath his thighs, like the heated hardwood floor.

"Takao." Shintarou greeted him with tense shoulders.

"Shintarou."

Shintarou leaned in, and they kissed.

Takao knew Shintarou was no stranger to kissing, but the immediate ferocity had him gasping. A hand gripped at his shoulder, Shintarou's other arm pulling him closer by the small of his back, until their bodies were flush together. Heat coiled in his belly and he struggled to match this side of Shintarou with the image Takao had in his mind. Shintarou, quiet and studious – and Shintarou, biting at his lip and sucking it into his mouth.

Leather upholstery creaked somewhere beside them, beyond Takao's narrow focus of the couch. He was suddenly, flagrantly aware of Akashi watching them, watching him. He pulled back, breathing just hard enough that the difference was noticeable. Shintarou opened his eyes and parts his lips to speak, but no words came. What was there to say, after kissing your best friend like this?

"Akashi," Takao craned his neck to meet his eyes, to see if he could find the passion in them, if he could –

"Kazunari… why have you stopped?" Akashi sat in a leather armchair across the room, poised with his legs crossed and head resting in his cupped palm. It was intentionally casual, a fabrication meant to distance himself. But his eyes gave it away: pupils blown wide, hungry for every detail.

Shintarou sat up straighter so he could see beyond Takao's shoulder, yet pointedly avoids the burn of Akashi's gaze.

Takao couldn't resist a smirk. "Join us, Akashi."

Akashi waved his free hand dismissively, but Takao saw the control in his movements. He wore a guise of carefully crafted indifference, and it may fool Shintarou, but Takao's eye was quicker than that.

"I want to watch, for the moment."

Cheeky. But he lidded his eyes regardless, making sure to catch Akashi's gaze. "As you wish."

Shintarou kissed him again. First on the neck, a brief brush of lips to steal his attention back. Then more insistent, higher and flirting with the base of his ear. Shintarou's discomfort and reserve fell around them with each kiss. He mouthed back down Takao's jaw to his adam's apple and lingered there, lips making way for tongue and then teeth, pulling at cloth and scraping a path to Takao's shoulder.

A whimper bubbled from his chest. He ground his hips down, involuntary this time, biting his lips to stop from whimpering a second time.

Long, lithe fingers drummed at Takao's narrow hips, playing with the hem of his shirt. Shintarou lifted his had to look at him, his own eyes dark and lidded. "You and Akashi are alike," said like a simple observation but it's so much more.

"Hm?" Takao blinked slowly, words turning in his head.

"You both like to watch me."

Ah. Takao's shirt came off.

"Is your curiosity satisfied?" Shintarou's shirt followed suit, revealing his muscled chest, dusty pink nipples. Takao's seen it before, love marks and all, but that was under harsh florescent lights, lockers slamming and cheap showers spraying to life. The lighting of Akashi's apartment did Shintarou many favors, casting perfect shadows on his chest; the hair at his navel looked soft, and Takao's fingers twitched with the itch to touch.

He licked his lips in response, "Not yet." He trailed his hands up Shintarou's stomach and down again, splaying his fingers over hard, jumping muscle.

"Kazunari," Akashi said from behind him, voice even and cool. The sound of his name on Akashi's lips, pronounced with utter disinterest, made him shudder with delight. That voice would grow heated yet, Takao was sure of it. "Not like that." He imagined Akashi shifting in his seat with utter serenity, and the image somehow made his words more vulgar, "Use your nails."

Takao and Shintarou's breath hitched in unison.

"Whatever you say, boss." His voice cracked, a pale imitation of nonchalance.

He dragged his nails from clavicle to navel. Shinartou's hips jerked without warning.

"Holy shit."

Shintarou let out a long, shaking breath, "Fuck."

"That was pretty hot."

Shintarou's eyes squeezed shut, cheeks bright. Takao can't help but to laugh.

"So is this what you do?" Takao asked, trailing fingers over Shintarou's bicep. He remained staring forward, admiring the way Shintarou's muscles jumped beneath his fingers, but he kept a careful eye on Akashi in his peripherals. "You watch, give instructions?"

Shintarou shifted beneath him, "Sometimes."

Takao imagined Shintarou, splayed on the couch, legs wide, hand moving while Akashi sat in that very chair, giving careful instruction: stroke slower, faster, not yet.

"I may be in over my head."

Akashi laughs, a sound that settles in his ears like perfume on skin, "I think you knew exactly what you were getting into."

Busted. "Remains to be seen. Do you ever do more than watch?" He already knew the answer.

The cushion dipped beside them, soft creak of leather caressing his ears. All three held their breath.

He felt each distinct finger as they played along his trapezius, then slid down his spine – just a hint of nails at the base of his tailbone, and oh, that was nice. His eyes fluttered shut. Akashi couldn't see his expression, yet Takao was sure he knew. Teeth found his ear, scraping at the shell of it. A brief bite. Akashi whispered, "Sometimes."

"Then what are you waiting for?" He leaned toward him as far as his position would allow. "Kiss me."

Akashi's lips fell on him in an instant, moving with fervor Takao should have expected and yet it still managed to catch him off guard. Heat sparked all the way into his toes, making them curl, making his fingers dig into the soft muscle of Shintarou's shoulders.

Gradually, their kiss began to slow. He opened his eyes, still half-lidded but open enough to see Shintarou's face screwed with pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. Panting. Akashi had his hand between them, wrist moving at a slow pace. Oh.

Akashi broke their slowing kiss, only for his mouth to find purchase elsewhere, alternately kissing and biting his way down his neck. And Akashi knew he was watching, if the smirk grazing down his chest was any indication. Desperate for touch, Takao dragged his hips down Shintarou's knee, taking friction where he could get it.

"Eager?" Akashi asked, lifting his head to look Takao in the eye. His wrist stopped moving, prompting a whine that sounded far-off to his ears. The question required no answer, but Takao could not stop his hurried nod.

"Then undress."

"My shirt is already-"

"No," Akashi's fingers traveled down the dip of his spine and played at the hem of is pants, "undress."

"Oh," he said dumbly, then laughs. He stumbled over himself trying to stand, grabs Akashi's shoulder for balance – it was no accident, and Akashi's raised eyebrow told him the maneuver did not slip under his radar. Takao grinned and shed his slacks, and then his underwear, wasting no time.

"You are eager, aren't you?" Akashi said. Perhaps it was meant to goad, annoy, or perhaps-

Like it mattered. Takao kissed him, with all the fervor of their first but this time it was Takao led their mouths, tilting his head so Akashi would have to do the same. It took Akashi a moment to kiss back; a success in Takao's book. He would not let Akashi move this whole encounter along at whatever pace he pleased. Takao was not in the business of letting things be decided for him.

Just as Akashi's mouth began to soften against his, Takao broke the kiss. "Now you."

"Pardon?"

"Undress." Takao swallowed.

All three held their breath. Akashi stood perfectly still for a moment, then- His posture did not change, exactly, yet there was something new, something relaxed in his limbs that was not there before. A decision, perhaps. Takao wondered how accustomed Akashi was to taking suggestions as they came.

"Alright," he said, fingers already working at his buttons. He pushed Shintarou down onto the couch and fixed them both with a commanding eye, "Watch."

As if they could look away.

Akashi took his sweet time about it, but Takao was beginning to understand that patience was Akashi's specialty. Even here, his movements were calculated, each inch of skin revealed with specific intent. Well, Takao could be patient, if that was the game Akashi wanted to play. Shintarou, however-

"Akashi," it's practically a groan.

He smiled, almost gentle but Takao and Shintarou both knew what lay beneath the placid surface. He stepped forward, couch dipping under the weight of his knee as he leaned in to kiss. "Patience, Shintarou."

This time there was no mistaking the noise Shintarou made for a groan.

"If you don't keep up," Takao said, licking his lips, "then we might just leave you behind."

Akashi laughed, and in some way that felt like a victory in itself. "You won't. That's not why you're here, is it?"

Damn. Akashi shot his bluff right down. Should have expected as much from him – it was Akashi, after all. He sighed, but did not make good on his threat, and leaned back into the couch. He didn't want to leave Akashi behind, anyway. Where was the fun in that? "Please hurry."

"Don't you know good things come to those who wait?"

"Ugh."

But even as he said that, Akashi looked through the coffee table drawer and removed several condoms, a bottle of lube. He dropped them onto the couch. "I presume you know what to do with these."

"Finally," Takao said, already ripping open the foil packaging. Music to his hears. "So, how are we going to-?" he made a lewd gesture with his hand.

"You," Shintarou said this as if it was answer enough. It was. Takao knew what Shintarou wanted, but – he wanted to hear him say it.

And, it seemed, so did Akashi. "I think Kazunari needs more explanation than that, Shintarou. Tell him what we agreed on."

His heart skipped a beat. We. Fuck, did they talk about this? Of course they did. They were- what, lovers? He would have loved to see how that conversation played out, to hear the crack of Shintarou's voice and see the blush on his cheeks. Of course, he didn't look too bad now, either.

Shintarou took him by the chin and kissed him "Fuck me, Takao."

"You sure?" he licked his lips, chasing away the nerves blossoming in his belly.

"It's what you wanted, right? I'm not that naive."

Takao withheld a laugh. It wasn't the time. "Yes, but are you sure?" He wasn't getting cold feet, but he had to be sure. Shintarou was not a man who shared, not a man who gave of himself easily. If years of playing with Shintarou taught him anything, it was that. And-

"I'm sure."

"Thank god."

The next few moments were chaotic in their stumbling attempt at finding a more suitable position. He didn't even know where the bed was, and neither he nor Shintarou had Akashi's patience. They were going to fuck. Now. He fumbled for the lube Akashi placed it in his hand, "He'll like it if you start with two."

"Akashi."

Takao laughed.

He uncapped the lube and leaned over Shintarou, tracing leisurely fingers up and down the cleft of his ass.

"Two fingers then? So brave."

"Impatient," Akashi corrected.

"Akashi."

Yes, definitely impatient. "Alright, Shin-chan. Be patient." He slipped the first finger in and is greeted by Shintarou halfway, already pushing back onto his finger. Expectant.

"You are impatient," he said fondly. The second finger went in easily, Shintarou all soft and relaxed around him even as his breath hitches. "That's sexy."

"Does he always talk this much?" Akashi asked.

"Afraid so."

Takao shut him up with a third finger, and Shintarou's quip turned into a whine. Little victories. "How is that?"

Shintarou buried his head in his arms, pushing back on his fingers even as he spread them inside. Impatient. Cute. Had they not devoted nearly an hour to foreplay, Takao might have spent more time admiring. But as it was- he and Shintarou were equally impatient. "Good?"

"Takao."

"Alright, alright," he slid his fingers out, wiping the excess on Shintarou's discarded slacks, something that ordinarily would have earned a sharp glare but none of them gave much of a damn about preserving nice clothes at this point. Takao slicked himself, sucking in air at the touch of his own hand-

"Sensitive?"

His shoulders hitched, shuddering at the voice in his ear. It was rare for Takao to be snuck up on, but- Like he could focus on anything other than Shin-chan. Akashi's teeth scraped against his ear, and Takao shuddered again, full-body. He laughed. "Just a bit."

Akashi's hand replaced his own, fingers slick with lube, and nimble. "Hoooooly shit," his voice caught on the words, mouth shaping into an O and then widening into a grin. "You're good at this." Akashi responded by twisting just hand just so, and Takao could not stop his hips from bucking even if he wanted to. "Too good," he pushed at his hand, "I'm gonna lose it if you keep-"

A puff of laughter brushed against his neck. Akashi's hand stopped its rhythm and instead began to guide Takao into Shintarou. "Always a puppet master, it seems- Ohhh," Takao groaned, bending forward of his own accord and draping himself over Shintarou's back. "Not gonna last long," He pressed his nose into the sweat-slicked crook of Shintarou's neck, who groaned in response.

"Then get out with it."

Takao rolled his hips, earning a gasp, an unrestrained moan. "You sound close."

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"You know the answer." They fell into a rhthym, Shintarou pushing back for every roll of Takao's hips. He still felt Akashi behind him, skin hot on his back. Sometimes a hand would play along his chest, pinch a nipple, but for the most part- Akashi really did like to watch, didn't he? Even without his vision, Takao felt his eyes on him. It only heigthened the delicious burn, made Takao stutter from his rhtyhm.

"Are you gonna-"

"Yeah, gonna cum," his speech grew stuttered. He bent forward, forehead to Shintarou's back and lips pressed against the skin like an open-mouth kiss, hand scrambling to find Shintarou's supporting himself on the couch's arm. Their fingers clasped together without thinking. Akashi watched.

Shintarou was the first to go lax, arm slipping from the couch to hang limp at his side. For once, Takao remained silent, slipping out and slouching into the cushions. He met Akashi's eyes.

"That satisfy your curiosity?" There was a challenge in Akashi's eyes, a smile on his lips.

Takao licked his lips, "Not quite."

"Good."