So I'm still here. And I have a lot more things to bring to you. Be patient.

Thanks to The Fearsome Foursome (Ato, Ciel, Meadow) for being like the best writing family I have. Love ya.

Warnings: Language. Cheesiness.

Note: This was kind of hard, actually. But I figured it out.

The kitchen was a wreck. Flour on the floor. Egg shells on the counter. It smelled like smoke. He blinked and raised his eyebrows at his boyfriends' flushed cheeks and guilty smiles.

"Whatever." He shook his head. "I'm definitely not cleaning this up."

It wasn't easy.

Because sometimes he would see them curled up together on the mattress, laughing under the covers, and he felt more alone then before he'd entered the room. But their eyes would find the shape of him in the room and beckon him forward.

"We missed you." Jiroh would whisper, because Kirihara never would. He'd roll in between them. Relax as they made a space for him next to them like they'd done in their hearts.

"Did you?"

"Of course." Undeniable, so extraordinarily sincere that he did believe.

It was something.

"So," Fuji prompted, seated next to a string of knowledge starved teammates. Only Kaidoh and Tezuka looked like they'd rather have been anywhere else. He knew something about that.

"So?"

"So."

"So?"

Someone coughed. Ryoma smirked. Fuji-senpai did not look happy if the sharpening of his smile was anything to go by. It sent a thrill of pride through him to be able to get under the tensai's skin. Momo elbowed him.

"I heard some very interesting things about you, Kirihara and Jiroh."

Good for you, he was tempted to say. But he liked his heart beating. "We're dating, senpai. Not having an affair."

"So you're having, like, a threesome." Marui asked from the table next to them, teeth snapping through his gum.

"Ore-sama believes the correct term is a triad."

Yukimura winked. "And you'd definitely know something about that, wouldn't you, Keigo?"

For some reason Tezuka and Atobe both turned away.

"Look," He reached up to pull down his cap, then sighed when he realized it wasn't there. "I'm dating two people. Not that it's any of your business. I mean, we all know what Fuji-senpai gets up to in his free time."

Blue eyes flashed.

Momo and Eiji went into hysterics.

Jiroh's heart was thrumming beneath his hand. With their lips pressed together and Kirihara's arm around his waist, he could almost imagine that every part of them was connected to every part of him.

"This is really cheesy, guys. A mistletoe?"

They smiled. Sometimes it was scary how everything they did, they did together. But he knew it was just how it was. They'd found each other first.

"If you see a chance, you have to take it." Jiroh shrugged and he looked so adorable doing it that Ryoma swooped in and kissed him again.

"This coffee tastes like shit."

"Language." Jiroh chastised, but grimaced when he took a swallow of his own cup.

He focused on the girl laughing loudly behind them. "Fuck."

"Shit."

"Damn."

"Fuck." Kirihara nodded and Ryoma glared at him.

"I already did that one."

"Does it look like I care?"

They stared at each other. Jiroh sighed.

"Language."

Ryoma loved. He saw the sun in the dark corners of his room. He found the beauty in the ugly. He roped the monsters under everyone's bed and gave them homes. He laughed at things that were not supposed to be funny. He loved and he loved and he loved. It was familiar, in the way that things you'd never felt before were.

Jiroh was the sunshine. Radiant. Constant. Warm. Kirihara the upcoming storm upon the sand. Moody. Dark. Protective. There were times when he'd ask, "Why?"

Did you choose me, love me, want me, need me?

And Jiroh's eyes would crinkle, while Kirihara would roll his own. "Why not?"

Maybe I should write more of them. I don't know. But yeah.