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Three's a Crowd

Chapter Text

Aoba was distracted.

It wasn't that he couldn't concentrate (it seemed he could concentrate very, very well on one specific thing), it was more like he couldn't concentrate on what he was supposed to concentrate on—which was, at the moment, the notes being scribbled on the board.

But once he focused on the neat lettering, his eyes immediately drifted to the rugged, tan hand gripping the chalk used to write them; and then they drifted to the muscled arm flexing as it worked; to the harsh slope of the shoulder supporting the arm; to the wide, strong back facing the class—

Aoba took a deep breath. There he was, distracted again.

He forced his eyes down onto the lined paper on his desk, frowning when he noticed that it, not for the first time, was mostly empty aside from the absentmindedly scribbled doodles littering the corners. He glanced up at the board once more and, equipping himself with selective vision, began to copy down everything he'd missed while his focus was elsewhere. This worked for a few moments, and he'd almost caught up with that hand, when...

You're having an awful lot of trouble concentrating today, aren't you, Aoba?

Aoba gritted his teeth as a sharp pain sprouted in his temple, his hand almost snapping his mechanical pencil in half. He ignored the voice (the 'other Aoba' that usually napped inside of him, but not today, it would seem), and began writing again once his vision cleared of red.

The 'other Aoba' chuckled and, without Aoba's consent, forced his eyes back to that broad back.

Why do you keep denying yourself, Aoba? His eyes dragged down, down... It's not like it hurts to look.

Shut up, he thought, grinding his teeth. He tried to force his eyes on the board again, and, thankfully enough, the 'other Aoba' allowed him to do so.

The 'other Aoba' sighed. Suit yourself. He sounded disappointed, a thought that formed a little smirk on Aoba's face. But repressing your desires won't make them go away.

Desires? Aoba could feel heat pour into his cheeks. He...desired him?

Aoba shook his head, breathing deep into his chest.

You don't know what you're talking about, he thought, eyes once again drawn to the board, jotting down the last couple of words written there. With a satisfied huff he dropped his pencil and sat back in his chair, letting it tip precariously as the word ricocheted around in his mind. Desire.

I don't know what I'm talking about? Really, Aoba? A chuckle. I'm you.

"Tch." Aoba's brows furrowed. I don't desire anything. He's just nice to look at.

And fantasize about?

Aoba's cheeks once again flushed with heat, and he felt himself sink deeper into his chair, its legs hitting the floor. Shut up. That was one time.

But we were pretty excited, weren't we?

Aoba shut his eyes and shook his head, taking a deep, steadying breath. The 'other Aoba' was pretty chatty today.

Thinking about and desiring someone are two different things.

The 'other Aoba' snorted.

Yeah, and so are ice and water.

Out of the blue the bell rang quite loudly, startling Aoba and causing him to topple out of his chair, his ass hitting the ground with a loud 'thud' and his head smacking against his desk. It took him a moment to process what had happened, what with the stars dancing in front of his eyes and the initial shock of it all, but once he did, he felt embarrassment reach the deepest depths of his stomach.

Nice going.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the curious stares and snickers of his classmates and silently thankful that his teacher seemed oblivious to his blunder, and gathered his books in his arms, intent on leaving this class and getting home before he ended up seriously injuring himself or, better yet, dying from humiliation.

Textbook and notebook in hand, face splotched with red, and backpack sloppily slung over his shoulder, Aoba made his way to the front of the classroom, pointedly ignoring the urge to take one last peek at his gorgeous World History teacher, intent on leaving with some of his pride still intact. He thought he'd made it out unnoticed once he stepped into the hallway and almost went limp with relief when the deepest, most alluring, but oddly cold voice called out behind him:

"Pay more attention in class, Seragaki."

Aoba wanted to die.

Aoba collapsed into bed when he got home, sighing away the stress of the day. His last period's mishap had been embarrassing alright, bordering on downright ridiculous, but, as he replayed the series of events over and over in his head, he realized with no degree of uncertainty that, though the circumstances hadn't been ideal, that was the first time his teacher had ever addressed him by name.

Well, his last name, but it was a start.


A start?

He shook his head, blankets rustling as he squirmed. There was no beginning or end to this—there was nothing there, and there never would be anything there. That's just the way things were.

He sighed again, staring at the ceiling, his dull eyes following the slow movement of the ceiling fan. It's not like it would be illegal—Aoba was nineteen, nicely past the age of consent—it's just that the circumstances were a little tricky when one factored in the whole 'teacher-student' dilemma and the social taboos that entailed.

He groaned, his headache beginning to worsen. It was almost constant these days, the dull throbbing in his head. He'd adjusted to it, dare he say he'd almost gotten used to it—but he knew that once his head began to pulse and throb and feel like it was literally splitting in two, it was a prerequisite for another voice invading his thoughts.

That was pitiful, Aoba.

"Shut up," he muttered, his voice tired, drained. "I know it was. You don't need to remind me."

The 'other Aoba' chuckled, but then, in a voice so low and raspy it felt like he was whispering right in Aoba's ear, he said: But his voice is so sexy, isn't it?

Aoba's cheeks lit up like Christmas lights.

"Not particularly," he mumbled, one hand absentmindedly moving to scratch his stomach. Without his consent that hand dove underneath his shirt, palm flat, tickling his sensitive skin. His eyebrow twitched.

"What do you think you're doing?" He tried to jerk his hand back, wary of what 'other Aoba' had in mind, but found his muscles locked up so tightly it hurt when he attempted to do so.

Nothing, came the reply, his hand shifting higher with disconcerting slowness. Aoba once again tried to jerk his arm away, but instead was made to stifle a groan when an agonizing pain akin to getting shot in the head pulsed through his temple.

"It...sure seems're up to...something," he ground out. His head pounded so badly he felt tears spring to his eyes, and his medication was all the way in his bag...

The 'other Aoba' chuckled with a dark hint to his voice, never stopping the movement of their hand. Caught me.

Suddenly, the pain in his head ceased, and Aoba took a clear look at his hand only to find his fingers circling his nipple, his shirt hiked up to his jutting collarbones. A light gasp escaped his lips, but he bit his tongue, wishing the pain in his head would return so he had something to distract him from whatever the other had planned.


His nipple was harshly pinched, causing him to let out a squeak, his back arching off the bed from surprise more than anything else. His chest began to tingle, but he pressed the side of his face against his pillow, intent on ignoring whatever the other decided to do with their—no, Aoba mentally corrected, his body. It's not like he had a choice, not with the other in control like this. 

"Stop it." He whimpered when his other hand lifted from the bed to settle near the waistband of his jeans, drawing small, teasing circles on his hipbone. "I'm not in the mood."

Well I am, 'other Aoba' snapped. You might not think so, but watching that man all class turns us on so fucking much. 

Aoba shivered, but bit his tongue again. There was no way he'd admit to that.

"Do whatever you want," he muttered, resigned, sinking deeper into the bed. He was too tired to fight this fruitless battle any longer, and hell, the worst that could happen was him dirtying his sheets and clothes. "Just make it quick, Granny will be home soon."

'Other Aoba' chuckled, deft hand moving to unbuckle their pants. No promises.

A retort was on the tip of Aoba's tongue, but it was drowned out by a sharp hiss when his semi-hard cock was pulled out of his fly, exposed to the room's nippy air. Wait, when did I start getting hard?!

'Other Aoba' laughed again, the sound tinkling in Aoba's ears, then began to stroke with slow, teasing pressure, his other hand tweaking and twisting Aoba's nipple to a tiny peak before joining its counterpart down his pants, gently fondling his balls.

"A-Ahh…" Aoba shivered, surprised by his own body's sensitivity. His hands barely felt like his own with the other touching him this way.

Feeling it?

"Shut up…"

The other sped up his movements, pausing to swipe his thumb against the head of his erection, snickering when he felt wetness already beginning to pool. "Not in the mood," he says.

Aoba, too keen on keeping his voice quiet, ignored the other's taunts, instead allowing his eyes to slip closed, enjoying the stimulation more than he wanted to admit. Well, it's not like he could keep anything a secret from him, anyway.

Ahh…I've been craving this all day.

Aoba moaned despite himself, goosebumps peppering his body. Yeah, he wanted it too, even if he hadn't realized it himself.

I bet it'd feel even better if it were his hands instead of ours…

Aoba's eyes popped open, and a shiver so intense it was practically a convulsion overtook his body. A breathy sigh left his wet and parted lips and he found his cock beginning to throb and a smoldering heat pooling in his groin.

'Other Aoba' let out a laugh soaked in sex. And you still think you don't desire him?

Aoba whimpered pitifully, nibbling his lip and shaking his head. "I-I don—ohhh…"

Aoba's hand sped up, smearing pre-cum down his cock, making everything smoother and wetter and so, so much better.

It'd feel so good if he bent us over his desk, marked our neck black and blue, tore off our jeans, wrecked us

"Ah!" Aoba's entire body thrashed, his head thrown side-to-side on his sweat-stained pillow. He wanted it, he wanted it so bad…

He'd be so rough, it'd probably hurt, but it'd feel so, so good having his thick cock inside of us, spreading us apart, plowing us over and over again, breaking us… Ngh.

Aoba's breath was a mess of ragged pants, his hand slick and wet with his arousal, his hips bucking off the bed, fucking his hand harder, faster, all to thoughts of exactly what the other whispered in his ears.

Do you want it, Aoba? His voice was broken, needy, breathless—odd for something residing solely in Aoba's mind, but he clearly felt it too.

"Y-Yes," Aoba cried, his toes curling, his moans bouncing off the walls.

The other moaned loud and long, causing Aoba's pounding heart to triple in pace. He was so close he could taste his orgasm; he just needed another push, something else…

Would you spread your legs like a good little boy and let him fuck us raw? The other's voice was animalistic, unrestrained, desperate. It'd feel so fucking good, so fucking amazing to be wrecked by him. Against the wall, sloppily, roughlyanything would long as it's him.

"Mink!" Aoba cried, the name a breathless whine bordering on a shout. His balls tightened as he rolled them against his palm, unsure of whether it was him or the one inside of him controlling his body any longer—not like it mattered; he was too lost in pleasure to even think of stopping.

He could hardly catch his breath due to the intensity of the pleasure welling inside his gut, and he choked out Mink's name over and over again, his mind flipping through image after image, imagining Mink's voice whispering the dirtiest things in his ears; Mink's body draped over his, almost crushing him; Mink fucking him so hard he thought he might pass out; Mink, Mink, Mink.

With one last, violent tug of his cock, Aoba came, moaning and shuddering as spurt after spurt of cum shot out of his tip, painting his stomach and smearing his hand with ribbons of white. He shivered relentlessly, pumping hard until his cock was finally spent and began to soften in his palm; even then, he could still feel remnants of pleasure tickling his skin. Exhaustion weighed heavy on his eyelids, causing them to flutter shut as he slowly regained his breath, unwinding his fingers from his dick. He grimaced at the stickiness he felt under his fingers as he rested them against his bare, cum-splattered stomach, but relaxation flooded his body nonetheless.

'Other Aoba' made a deep noise of satisfaction, almost sounding sleepy himself.

Didn't that feel amazing? He sounded smug, but Aoba was too tired to care.

"Yeah," he replied, still slightly breathless. "Amazing."

He could feel himself slowly fading in and out but had half a mind to gather some tissues from the nightstand and clean himself up lest his grandmother walk in on him in such an indecent state. Once he was clean enough and had tossed the tissues into the nearby trashcan, he nestled back against the bed, snuggling under the covers and allowing his heavy eyes to slip closed for a well-deserved nap.

But before his consciousness faded completely, he heard the sound of a voice barely whispering in his ears:

Our desire will be fulfilled eventually, Aoba.

Chapter Text

Aoba awoke to the smell of Granny's cooking wafting into his room, tempting his stomach with the promise of a delicious meal. After blinking most of the sleep from his eyes, he sat up slowly, thick blanket falling off his shoulders, and stretched his arms above his head with a wide yawn. He felt oddly refreshed, even if his eyes were still a little heavy and his mind was still foggy and his arms and legs were stiff as boards. But within a short moment, memories of his and the other him's earlier activities bounced through his mind, and he was so embarrassed his chest hurt and his face burned so terribly he thought it might melt off.

He listened for the voice in his head, expecting him to chime in with taunts at any moment, and paid rapt attention to the slight pain in his temple, just waiting for it to flare up worse...but, after a few undisturbed moments of blissful silence, he determined himself to be alone (for the moment, at least). What a relief.

But still—Aoba could hardly believe he'd done something so shameless at the other him's coercion, let alone enjoyed it. (And it wasn't the first time he'd been influenced by the other him, either—but never before had his entire body locked up like that, betrayed him, left him so powerless.) He didn't want Mink like that, he didn't—he was just nice to look at, and Aoba's stupid teenage hormones (among other things) were making him ponder thoughts of no real purpose far too deeply.

He sighed loud and long, face in his hands. Really, between that afternoon's stunt and the 'other Aoba's' influence, today just didn't seem to be his day.

Kicking the covers away from his feet, he threw his legs over the side of the bed, shivering as his bare feet brushed the cold wood floor; he eyed his sleep-warmed covers longingly, but the smell of Granny's cooking was so strong he could almost taste it. He rubbed his goosebump-riddled arms, yawned once more, then forced himself onto his feet and into the hallway, stopping in the bathroom to wash his hands and face before heading for the staircase.

He took the stairs two at a time, the grumbling in his stomach spurring his every hasty step until he reached the entrance to the kitchen and forced himself to slow his pace for fear of incurring Granny's wrath. (No running in the house was a rule that had been drilled into his head since childhood.)

"Granny?" He stepped into the kitchen, his face relaxing into a smile when his eyes fell onto the little pink-haired woman standing near the stove, stirring a steaming pot; it was likely the source of the aroma that woke him from his nap.

She grunted, her eyes barely gracing him, and continued stirring the metal pot with a long wooden spoon. Wordlessly, Aoba began his usual task of setting the table, feeling a slight pang in his chest when he accidentally grabbed three plates from the cabinet instead of two.

It's not that he wasn't used to setting the table for two—it's just that sometimes, his hands worked ahead of his mind.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Aoba slid one plate back into place and grabbed four bowls, balancing them on top of the white plates in his hands, then managed to stack two pairs of chopsticks and a couple of spoons from the drawer on top of that. He stepped over to the table and set everything down gently, his mind wandering all types of places as he robotically slid everything into its proper place.

"Food's ready," Granny said, snapping Aoba out of his gloomy reverie.


He took his usual seat across from Granny, twiddling his thumbs beneath the table. His entire body thrummed with energy, but he couldn't quite place the feeling. Anxiety? No, that wasn't it…

His temple pulsed just the slightest bit, and he took a shaky breath.

"So, how was your day, Granny?" he asked, reaching to the steaming bowl of rice in the middle of the table. Regardless of anything else, Granny's cooking always comforted him.

"Fine." She grabbed for a plate of stir-fried vegetables, spooning a generous portion onto her own plate, then ladled a bit of miso soup into her bowl. "And yours?"

Aoba gulped, his cheeks gaining a good bit of color. "Fine."

Somewhere deep in his mind, a voice chuckled.

"Nothing too special happened. School as always," he hurried on, hoping Granny wouldn't notice the shakiness he heard in his own voice.

She grunted, taking the rice from Aoba's hands once he was done spooning out his portion. He grabbed the vegetables.

"Any new information about graduating early?"

With a frown, Aoba shook his head. "Not yet. They said I have too many missing credits. But I should be able to graduate at the end of the school year, so I guess that's fine." He shrugged, trying his hardest to mask his disappointment. It wasn't like he was surprised; he'd already been told the chance of him graduating before the end of the year was slim to none. It was his own fault for falling behind. Everything was his own fault.

Granny grunted, used her chopsticks to pick a few pieces of grilled salmon off a plate in the middle of the table, then dropped them onto hers one by one.

"If you say so."

They fell into comfortable silence for a few moments; the quiet was only broken by the soft clanks of chopsticks against plates and Aoba's occasional exclamations of how good everything tasted.

"Ah, Aoba."

Aoba perked up, chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

"How is your medication? Is it still working?"

Aoba's stomach sank. He didn't want Granny to worry, not more than she already did—what was he supposed to say? "Oh, yeah, it barely works anymoreand I'm losing control of not only my mind, but my body, too." "Medication? Is there a point to that? I can't feel a difference anymore." "Sorry, but I'm pretty sure you should up the doseor, y'know, give me a whole new prescription since I'm pretty sure I'm losing my frickin' mind."

"Yeah, it's working fine."

Aoba hadn't a clue why he said those words when he meant the exact opposite. Frighteningly enough, it felt like his lips had moved on their own, like someone else was controlling his mouth and he was merely an observer—and, to top it all off, the moment his lips closed he felt like he'd been hit in the head by a sledgehammer.

Suddenly, his body grew very, very cold.

Granny nodded, the barest trace of a smile on her withered lips. "Good. I'm glad."

Through the pain, Aoba tried to open his mouth once more—his medication was not working, not like it was supposed to—but found his mouth soon stuffed full of food even though he definitely hadn't moved his chopsticks to his mouth, not intentionally.

...This was bad.

Hey, youjust what do you think you're doing? Aoba called to the voice in his head as he reflexively chewed, scouring his mind for its 'sleeping' presence, trying to ignore the shooting pain in his temple.

He found nothing but silence.

Playing hide and seek, are we? he grumbled to himself, glaring into his bowl of rice and swallowing dryly. This was getting ridiculous—since when did the other think this body was his to control? And when did his influence become this...strong? Before, it was only little things, like making him look a certain way, or talking to him, or influencing his...sexual expression (though, in retrospect, that wasn't all that 'little'). But controlling his voice and body?

Aoba wasn't very hungry anymore.


Aoba, startled, gave a small jump, then tried to pass it off with a smile; it felt disgustingly plastic.


Granny eyed him for a long moment.

"...You alright?"

"I—I'm just a little tired, and I have a bit of a headache. School stress and all." He waved his chopsticks, hoping to dismiss her worries. With another forced smile, he took a bite even though his heart was fluttering, his head was aching, cold sweat was dripping down the back of his neck, and his stomach was tying itself in a complex series of knots. Just what was the other him planning to do?

Wouldn't you like to know?

Aoba almost dropped his bowl of rice but recovered quickly; Granny didn't notice his flailing, thankfully enough.

There you are, Aoba growled. The 'other Aoba' hooted with laughter.

Sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this evening.

Aoba resisted the urge to growl aloud, shoving food into his mouth faster and faster as his aggravation (and headache) grew.

Just what the hell do you think you're doing, lying to Granny?

Just making sure our fun doesn't end too quickly, that's all.

"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me," he growled through a mouthful of fish and rice.

Aoba clamped his lips shut a split second too late; Granny stared at him with one eyebrow cocked, chopsticks frozen in midair.

"Excuse me?"

Aoba felt a fresh round of cold sweat trickling down his brow. His mouth and throat now resembled the Sahara Desert; swallowing was a feat in itself.

"N-Nothing, Granny."

The 'other Aoba' laughed so hard Aoba feared he'd go deaf.

He finished the rest of his food so quickly it felt like he'd dropped rocks into his stomach, then hastily rinsed his bowl and plate and set them away, ignoring his grandmother's suspicious looks. He could deal with her later; he just needed to be alone—pronto.

But you're never really alone, are you? After all, I'm here.

Shut up.

He trudged his way upstairs, slamming his door shut behind him when he reached his room.

"What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?" For a split moment, Aoba had a flash of insight into just how insane this situation would look to anyone outside of his own head—here he was, slumped against his bedroom door, obviously in pain, openly pissed off, and talking to the air. Joy.

Just having some fun. The voice chuckled, the sound only aggravating Aoba further. And helping you admit our desires, of course.

"You're on about that again?" Aoba clenched his fists and teeth. "I know what I want, and what I don't; nothing you can say will change my mind."

Tsk. You're always so stubbornthat's exactly why we can't do things the nice way.

"There is no 'nice way' when it comes to you."

The 'other Aoba' laughed; Aoba bristled.

You know me so well.


Aoba needed to talk to Ren now. His heart hurt a little when he remembered how easy it once was to talk to his cousin when things got tricky, back when they shared an apartment, back when they were independent...back before he fucked everything up and got shipped off to Granny's.

Or, more accurately, before he made Aoba fuck everything up.

Ehh? It's not nice to blame your problems on other people. You wound me, Aoba.

"What happened to you being me?" Aoba grumbled, stooping down to grab his school bag near the door. With shaky fingers, he searched for his little orange bottle of pills, popping the cap once he found it and taking four in one swift gulp. He muttered a silent prayer to whatever God would listen that his medication might actually work (it hadn't worked very well this morning, or the day before), and trudged towards his bed. He plopped onto it, let his eyes slip closed, tried to clear his head.

The voice laughed once more, the sound slowly tapering off into nothing but blessed silence, and, gradually, Aoba felt the pain in his head begin to fade away. He breathed a small sigh of relief, lying back on his bed. With any luck, the other would sleep for the rest of the night. Or for forever. (Aoba would prefer the latter.)

He reached for his phone—which he'd forgotten to bring to school that morning and still laid plugged into its charger on his nightstand—and unlocked it, checking his messages, not bothering to open even one. He briefly wondered if he should shoot Ren a text first, since he knew he was probably busy, especially at this time of night, but soon decided that he'd just try and call; if Ren didn't pick up, he'd just go back to sleep. He was exhausted enough for it.

The phone rang a grand total of two times before it was answered, flooding Aoba's chest with nostalgia-tinted warmth.

"Ren," he breathed.

"Aoba." He could almost imagine the worry-twisted look on Ren's face; he was probably anxious, wondering why Aoba decided to call out of the blue, especially on a school night. "Is everything alright?"

"Uh, yeah, things are…" Aoba frowned. What was he saying? "Actually, no. Things are a little...weird." Aoba listened for the other him, worried he might try to interfere again, but heard nothing but his own thoughts. Thank God.

"Weird?" There was the sound of shuffling on the other end; Ren was probably sitting down. Aoba allowed himself to imagine it for a moment: the both of them sitting in their old living room, talking about anything and everything, just like old times. His chest hurt.

"He's…" Aoba swallowed thickly. How was he supposed to say this without worrying Ren? He sighed, resigned. "He's starting to talk to me again. But this time, he's a little bit...stronger, I guess? Like…" Aoba's face flushed red when he remembered earlier; he thought it'd be best to omit specific details for the sake of his pride. "He's learned how to control my body."

Ren breathed sharply; Aoba cringed.

"That isn't good at all." Ren sighed, loud and long. "Have you told Granny?"

"Uh, see, that's the thing—I tried to talk to her, but he...spoke for me. It was really weird, actually. It was my voice, but at the same wasn't." Aoba cleared his throat.



"How long has this been going on? Him talking to you again, influencing you?"

Aoba paused, biting his lip.

"Ah...he started talking to me again...maybe last week?"

"Aoba." There was an edge to his voice. "And you didn't call me sooner?"

"I didn't think it was anything to worry about—it's not like it's the first time he's meddled in my life. I..." Aoba paused. "I thought I could control him this time."

The quietest chuckle sounded in the back of Aoba's mind.

"But he's controlling your body, Aoba. This is even worse than before." Quieter, with a small sigh, Ren added: "I don't want to see you to get hurt. Not again."

Ropes of guilt wrapped around Aoba's neck, making it hard for him to breathe. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. At least no one else would get hurt this time.

"Yeah, I know." He took a shaky breath, opening his eyes. "I just figured it would be like before...with him just talking to me, or whatever. Even when he started influencing me on little things, I thought I'd be able to fight him off, but…" Aoba's voice faded out. It was terrifying, losing control of his body like that, even if it had felt...good, regrettably enough. His cheeks burned. "What should I do, Ren?"

Ren stayed silent for a moment—Aoba could envision the crease between his eyebrows, the frown lines beneath his mouth. "I think you should tell Granny, first of all. And if he won't let you, I will."

Aoba nodded, though he soon realized Ren couldn't see the action. "Yeah, okay." He already felt much better after speaking to Ren—he could always count on his cousin to put things in perspective, calm him down when he got too anxious. A couple of isolated incidents were no big deal, Aoba could see that now; Granny would whip him up a new batch of meds, and his other self would go back to sleep just like before. Everything would be fine. It wouldn't happen again. His body was his.

"Thank you, as always, Ren."

A breathy laugh. "The pleasure is mine."

They spoke for a bit longer, discussing how Aoba was adjusting to his new school and his current graduation status. His twin brother, Sei, who still lived with Ren in their old apartment, and Ren himself had both graduated ahead of him—or, in all actuality, on time. Thanks to the other him and his influence over the past four years, Aoba fell a year and a half behind in school. He'd worked hard, even doubled up on classes, but he still couldn't graduate until the upcoming summer: two years too late. The thought depressed him to no end.

They said their goodbyes once the clock on Aoba's nightstand flickered to 10:15, and he found his eyes getting heavier and his voice getting deeper, slower, more weighed-down, though it wasn't exactly easy to hang up. He missed Ren a lot, and he missed his brother, too, but he hadn't worked up the courage to call Sei yet after the mess he'd gotten them both into; all he could do was ask Ren to give him his regards and listen raptly whenever Ren shared tidbits of information on Sei's recovery.

The room seemed almost too quiet once they hung up. Without his other self chattering in his ear (which he'd been doing for a good portion of the day, it seemed), Aoba's mind felt surprisingly vacant. Not that he was complaining. Silence was good.

He wished it was always this quiet.

I can't wait to see him today.

I wonder what he's wearing…

Probably something hot. But he could make a trash bag look hot, am I right?

Ah, if only he'd unbutton his shirt a little, give us a better viewI bet he's got a gorgeous chest.

His arms are huge. Holding onto those while he wrecks us, digging our nails in deep, scratching the hell out of him until he's bleeding and panting and fucking us as hard as he can...

And his backngh, his back is so broad. Wrapping our arms around that while his cock

"Will you shut up already?"

Aoba stared at himself in the school restroom's mirror, face tight with aggravation.

He looked like shit. There was really no other way to put it. But it wasn't too surprising, all things considered. His dreams had been a little...eventful, and eventually he'd given up on falling back asleep for fear of what his mind held in store. He had occupied himself for the remainder of the evening by popping headache pills like candy and staring at the wall.

It'd been a wild night.

Heh. I thought you'd enjoy what I cooked up for you. A pause. Was the ball-gag too much?


My bad. Aoba's face pulled into an unfamiliar grin in the mirror, and his hand slid up his chest, combed through his tangled hair. We look like shit todayI'm blaming you for that.

"Well maybe if you let me sleep we woul—"

Aoba clamped his lips shut at the sound of footsteps passing the door.

Stop meddling. I'm serious.

Oh? Aoba's grin grew wider. And what are you gonna do about it? I'm just trying to get us laid.

Aoba's face, his once more, fell into a mortified grimace, his cheeks flushing right up.

I didn't ask for your help!

But God knows you need it.

Aoba covered his face with his hands.

This was really, really bad.

Just be quiet during his class, okay? You've been loud all daymy grades are gonna go to shit if you keep this up.

And what will I get for it, hmm?

Aoba sighed, dragging his hands down his face, feeling the tug of his skin, and glanced at himself in the mirror once again. He looked like a zombie.

When we get home, I'll let around.

Oh? The 'other Aoba' snickered. I planned on doing that anyway.

Aoba gritted his teeth.

You better enjoy this freedom while you've got it, he hissed, because it's not going to last much longer.

That's what you think.

The warning bell rang, causing Aoba's palms to sweat. He didn't want to go to fourth period—he really, really didn't. Every class up until now had been torture. But if he was late...

Just—Just behave, for Christ's sake!

Don't I always?

I'm not answering that.

And so, with one last look at his pallid, sleep-deprived face and limp blue hair in the mirror, Aoba left the restroom.

He didn't behave.

He didn't behave at all.

What a great assI want to squeeze it. Aoba felt his fingers twitch. But he'd probably hit us if we tried. I mean, just look at that glare.

I have. For the past thirty minutes. You haven't let me look at anything else.

Wrong! We've looked at his ass.

Aoba somehow managed to pry his eyes off said ass and stare at the ceiling. He'd involuntarily initiated and sustained eye contact with his teacher so many times it was bordering on creepy, and the man's bloodlust was palpable from the back of the room. Aoba couldn't even feel embarrassed anymore. He was too tapped out.

You're ruining my life.

Stop being dramatic. Just think of how much better our life would be if we were banging our hot teacher.

Well, it's never going to happen, so you can stop now. Really. Please stop.


Aoba's eyes slipped closed and his head lulled to the side. He was so tired…

Careful. Fall asleep and we might have a repeat of last night.

Aoba's eyes flickered open.

You wouldn't.

I would.

Aoba could imagine the other's grin—his own grin, if he were to be honest. But nothing about that grin was truly Aoba's aside from the face it was on.

He looked at the clock, tapped his pencil against his desk. Five more minutes. He could get through this.

But his head was starting to hurt a little worse...

And then his hand shot up.


"Hey, teach!" No, no, no. "I have a question."

Mink, lecture momentarily postponed, eyed Aoba with obvious hostility and maybe a little bit of surprise as well—nobody interrupted him during a lesson. It was an unspoken rule.

His classmates all stared at him, just stared, their mouths open like a school of half-dead, stupid fish. They were probably questioning his sanity, which he didn't have much left of, clearly.

I'm going to kill you.

Suicidal, much?

"...Seragaki." Mink said it slowly, a question mark hanging in his voice.

Aoba huffed, a Cheshire grin on his face, and leaned forward in his chair, chin in his hands.

"Do you offer extra tutoring? Of the after school variety?"


"...If I deem it necessary."

No no no.

Aoba leaned back, his grin quickly growing.

"Sign me up."


"...Tch." Mink's face screamed of annoyance. "We'll talk after class. Don't interrupt again."

"Yes, sir."

Aoba could feel the suggestive look on his face, hear the little hint in his voice, but then everything was his again and his face was so splotchy and burning and red and gross and—

He slammed his forehead against his desk.




Why not, Aoba? He sounded way too pleased. Way too fucking pleased.

I hate you. I really, truly hate you.

Duly noted. But the fun's just beginning, isn't it? Aoba's eyes flitted to the clock; his lips pulled into a toothy smirk. And would you look at thatonly three minutes to go.

Chapter Text

Mink had nice hair. It looked healthy: glossy, long, well-maintained, like he took time to make it look as nice as it did. There was even a small braid with a tiny dreamcatcher intricately woven into it, brushing just past his collarbones, and Aoba couldn't help but find it interesting how his locks faded from a rich ebony to a dusky maroon at the tips.

Aoba had a lot of time to admire Mink's hair.

He glanced at the clock.

Yeah, thirty minutes was a long time to stare at the top of somebody's head.

Just how long is he going to make us wait? the 'other Aoba' muttered. It wasn't often that Aoba agreed with anything the other him had to say, but this time was a definite exception.

Did he forget about us or something? He frowned, resting his head on his arms folded across his desk. It took him a moment to catch his little slip-up—us—but by this time, he was much too exhausted to care. I just want to go to sleep…


Aoba's head shot up, his back smacking against his chair, and he grimaced, but Mink only stared, one eyebrow barely cocked. Aoba hadn't seen many expressions on the man's face, but he'd bet everything he owned that was damn close to amusement.


"We can speak now, but make it quick." Mink closed a thick book on his desk, his eyes boring into Aoba's. With a gulp, Aoba nodded, and slid his chair away from his desk.

...And that's when his body went stiff as a board.

Aoba, panic coiling in his gut, fought against the strange sensation, but it only hurt. Not a single limb, not a single finger was under his control; he could tell that much by the way his legs were moving towards Mink's desk, his lips were curling into a smirk, his hips were swaying much more than they usually did...

This was beyond bad.

Mink sat back in his chair as Aoba approached, folding his arms across his chest; Aoba could feel his own eyes focusing on his big, muscular biceps, then dragging to his chiseled jaw, his full lips, his striking golden eyes. Mink wasn't amused.

"Your eyes have been wandering lately, Seragaki." He said nothing more than that, but his meaning was clear: Stop, kid, or you won't live to regret it.

Now if Aoba were really Aoba, he would have bowed his head in shame, stuttered out an apology, and scurried away, shoulders hunched, chest and face burning—forget this 'tutoring' nonsense. But Aoba wasn't Aoba, so all he could do was observe in horror as his mouth said things he'd never say and his body moved in ways he'd never move. It all felt surreal, like he was in the middle of a very, very vivid nightmare—one he had no hope of waking up from.

"Have they?" Aoba propped his elbows against Mink's desk, resting his chin in his hands. "I guess I've just been distracted."

"From your grades this past week, that much is obvious."

Aoba grinned. "I guess I need help, huh?"


Aoba chuckled and lowered his arms away from his chin, laid them against Mink's desk. Mink's eyes never strayed from Aoba's smirking face.

"You know, I'd do anything to keep my grades up."

Now, the 'real Aoba' had stayed silent up until this point, seeing as he was a merely a spectator rather than an active participant, but a line like that was just begging for commentary.

What is this, some cheap porno?

Aoba felt the other's cocky expression drop just a hair; every victory counted, right?

Like you could do any better.

"I offer after-school tutoring three days a week."

Aoba nodded, shifting on his feet, popping out his hip. "That's...a start."

Mink only stared, the expression on his face that of a man who wanted blood. It was chilling, yet at the same time...

"I don't know what you're getting at, Seragaki." Mink leaned forward, resting an arm against his desk, right by Aoba's arm; their faces were so close Aoba could smell the man's scent, and although he couldn't put his finger on what it was, it smelled oddly...sweet. Cologne? "But I don't like it."

Aoba couldn't help but snort.

"I'm not getting at anything, Mr. Mink~" Aoba's fingers could almost brush against Mink's chest; God, his body was already heating up. He shifted on his feet again, bit his lip. "I'm just worried about my education." Aoba's eyes were heavy, dark, and his fingers twitched with the desire to drag his nails up and down that gorgeous chest. I want to draw blood.

Mink leaned back as though he could sense Aoba's desire, his upper lip wrinkled in distaste, but there was something (what is it?) in his eyes other than chilliness this time, resting just beneath the surface.

"As I said, I offer tutoring three days a week. Come back tomorrow."

"I heard you." Aoba's eyes drooped. "But you can keep talking."

"Che." Mink's eyes were slits.

Aoba giggled, tossing his head to the side, letting his hair fall over his chest, onto Mink's desk. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow, Mr. Mink."

"I can't say I feel the same."

"So cruel." Aoba slid up slowly, dragging his hands across Mink's desk, smirking as some of the papers crinkled beneath his fingers. "Oops."

Are you trying to get us killed?!

"Get out, Seragaki." If looks could kill, Aoba would've been six feet under by now; fury wafted off of Mink in waves.

"Yes, sir."

But Aoba didn't move for a good minute; he maintained eye contact with his teacher (whose eyes were visibly becoming darker and narrower as that minute stretched on), and even when he did leave he walked slowly, hands jammed in his jacket pockets, feet dragging at a crawling pace across the floor; it took him a good two minutes just to grab his backpack and leave. It was almost like he was trying to make Mink hate him.


Are you seriously trying to piss him off? The real Aoba couldn't even try to understand the other's convoluted logic. He wanted to sleep with the man—how the hell was blacklisting himself going to help that along? And it's not like that was a hard thing to do, not when it came to Mink. One wrong look was all it took, and Aoba (unintentionally) had a lot more than that going for him at this point.

The feeling of the other's grin was enough of an answer.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." The other ignored the curious looks lingering students threw his way as he conversed with the air, walking at an unhurried pace down the school hallway. "All I know is that this is the most fun I've had since you started shoving pills down your throat."

Then Aoba felt himself shifting from the back of his mind to the front, him and the other almost seeming to become one entity as their consciousnesses merged for a single second in passing; then Aoba's body was his, and the other him was nestled in the back of his mind, where he belonged.

That felt weird.

Aoba stretched his arms, groaning as his joints popped. He was still stiff and achy, but for all he knew that could have been from lack of sleep.

"I don't understand your logic," he muttered. He wanted to feel angrier, more embarrassed, something, but he was just so tired…

You will soon enough.

Aoba snorted. "I'm not saying I want to. And you're not sticking around for much longer, either—you've done enough damage."

Aoba wondered if it was still possible to switch history classes three weeks into the school year—knowing his luck, it wasn't, but it was still worth a try…

You seem awfully sure of yourself. You think you'll be able to get rid of me that easily? the 'other Aoba' growled. I learned a thing or two while drugged up, y'know.

It could have been Aoba's imagination, but the other him sounded a little...hurt. Kind of bitter. He shook his head—it's not like it mattered.

"Such as?"

Like I'd tell you.

...Yeah, definitely bitter.

"Suit yourself," Aoba muttered, pushing the school doors open and stepping into the crisp Autumn air. He shivered and hugged his jacket tighter to himself, stifling a yawn, and it wasn't long before the other's voice faded out inside his mind, bathing his thoughts in calm quiet. Aoba was grateful.

With silence as his companion, he headed home.

The plan was to talk to Granny as soon as she walked in the door. He was going to explain everything to her in detail (or as much detail as he could without making things weird), and she was going to whip up some magic potion that would make his life go back to the way it was.

That was the plan.

But, as he thought harder, it was far too simple a plan to actually work. Clearly, the other him wasn't stupid—he wouldn't let himself be revealed so easily. That much was made obvious when Aoba had opened his mouth only to have it shut half a second later when his grandmother walked in the door.

You're going to have to do better than that. The voice inside Aoba's head laughed so raucously Aoba wanted to puke. Instead, now alone, he grabbed a pillow, smashed it against his face, and screamed until his throat was scraped raw.

"I can't believe you," he muttered once he ran out of breath, face half-smushed against the pillow in his hands.

Are you really surprised? Aoba could imagine the other's smirk. Vividly. I told you you couldn't get rid of me that easily.

With a loud, defeated sigh, Aoba flopped onto his back, hugging the pillow to his chest. He sniffled, frustrated, tired, angry, and…

Oh, no.

"I'm not in the mood," he gritted, hugging the pillow tighter. A wave of warmth washed over his skin, and he shivered, knowing exactly what it meant. "I'm serious."

You were the one who said I could play around when we got home. He was smirking, definitely smirking.

"That was...only behaved." Aoba squeezed the life out of the pillow and clenched his teeth, unconsciously squirming against the bed, rolling his hips—or maybe it wasn't so unconscious.

I behaved very well, thanks. Aoba's body was going stiff again, but the warmth was still there, coiling in his gut, making him shiver even though he was far from cold. Just what was the other doing to him…?

Out of nowhere, a picture of Mink towering over him, sweaty, panting, completely delirious with lust popped into his mind, and the knot in his stomach coiled even tighter. Mink thrusting into him, breaking him, making him feel so, so good...

A dark laugh. Aoba…

Aoba whimpered. It sounded like the other was whispering right in his ear; he could just imagine how hot his breath would feel.

Aoba shoved a hand into his mouth—or maybe it wasn't him, who really knew—to stifle a pitiful whimper as his other hand squeezed his groin, massaging roughly, coaxing him to hardness in a matter of seconds. He was almost embarrassed.

Heh. Someone's eager.

Aoba shook his head, jammed his fist even harder into his mouth. He wasn't eager, he really wasn't—

"Ah!" Aoba shivered, his nails scraping against the fabric of his sweats, tickling his cock. He bit into his fist, determined to keep quiet, but that proved difficult, especially once his sweatpants were tugged down to his thighs and his cock sprang up, jerking violently. He had no idea what had made him this desperate this quickly, but…

He moaned against his fist, shaking when his fingers wrapped around his cock, gave a hard tug. His eyes were set on the ceiling but they began to blur, his mind growing distant under the gentle thrum of pleasure, his fingers stroking carelessly, sloppily...

Do you like that? The other's chuckle rang in his ears, dragging another shudder from Aoba's pliant body. He nodded before he could catch himself—the action earned him a small gasp in his ears and an even harder tug of his dick.

So you're finally being honest, are you? the other growled. Aoba merely whimpered, spreading his legs wider; that earned him fingers toying with the dripping tip. I knew you were a slut.

Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't have turned Aoba on; but these were no normal circumstances, so all he could do was nod even harder, take short, heavy breaths through his nose, sink his teeth into his fist until he tasted blood. The other him groaned loudly, almost desperately, and then Aoba found himself face-down in the bed, the pillow now laying next to him, his ass in the air, his fist still jammed in his mouth.

Without his consent his fist uncurled and his fingers started probing around past his lips, scraping against his tongue, his gums. He sucked on them automatically, shivering at the wet sounds they made, and then, a few seconds later, they were gone.

He was too lost in the feeling of his other hand working his dick in a frenzy, fingers pressing and pulling and rubbing against all the right places to notice where his fingers were headed until they were already there—but the sudden shock forced his cracked eyes open completely.

"Wh-What are you—I don't—I'm not—"

Shut up.

His legs spread further apart (though it was tricky; his sweats were a hindrance), and then there was a slick finger rubbing against his hole, almost caressing it, and he buried his face against his pillow, sounds he didn't know he was capable of making leaking out no matter how hard he bit his lip.

His body relaxed even though his mind was anything but, and that finger began to press against his hole, applying more and more pressure until it finally gave and his finger slipped in until the first knuckle. It didn't really hurt—it just felt strange. But slippery fingers twisting around his dick, fondling his balls, stroking his perineum distracted him so well his knees began to shake.

Heh. That dark chuckle sent shivers up and down Aoba's spine. You're even tighter than I thought you'd be.

Aoba cried out against his pillow, bucked his hips (but he didn't know where to buck—front, back, it all felt good). That finger slid deeper, deeper as his body relaxed, and then another was jammed in next to it—and it hurt that time, just a little—and those fingers began to scissor and stretch and Aoba had nearly forgotten how to breathe.

Our fingers aren't that big… A rough shove, burying them even deeper, pressing against something wonderful. But this'll have to do...for now. Another sharp jab.

Even though this felt good, so, so amazingly good, Aoba couldn't help but imagine Mink with his big, rugged, tan hands; Mink with his gruff voice, his cold eyes that were hiding something, something Aoba wanted so badly to coax out…

We'll destroy him, Aoba, the other whispered, voice rough, heavy, we'll destroy what's hiding the parts of him he doesn't want the world to see. And once we do, he can destroy us. We'll show him his deepest, darkest desiresevery. Thrust. Single. Thrust. One.

Numbness swept through Aoba's body, and he cried out so loudly there was no way in hell his pillow could have muffled it entirely—and once that numbness faded, leaving him writhing, gasping under the assault of his own hands, he saw white.


Fuck yeah we are.

Aoba's fingers squeezed and pumped his cock in time with the desperate thrusts of his fingers, his stomach tensing, his balls drawing close to his body, pre-cum running down his shaft, over his balls, dripping onto the bed in torrents—and then, with a violent, full-body shudder, he came, spraying his seed on his sheets, wiping his mind of anything else but Mink and pleasure and desire and the feeling of cumming so hard you can't remember your own name.

A desperate pant was the first thing to leave his mouth once his fingers were soaked in cum, his ass was wet and loose, his body was limp and tired. He could hardly breathe, hardly withstand the shaking of his limbs, but he slid his fingers from his ass (and now that the fun was over, it was sore, really sore), and unwound his fingers from his softening dick. Plopping against the bed and staring at the ceiling, he took a moment to simply breathe.

"Wow," he croaked, his voice dry and scratchy. The other him laughed.

Wow, indeed. The smile Aoba imagined on the other's face was different than before, more...sincere. He liked it. Ah, Aoba.

Aoba blinked; his eyes had grown heavy.


Call me Desire.

Before Aoba had a moment to register what that meant, there were loud, clunking footsteps on the stairs; his blood ran cold.

He was off the bed in the flash, locking his door, slamming his back against it. There was a knock and the sound of the knob jingling, then a series of rapid, increasingly angry knocks.

"Aoba?" Another knock. "Aoba!"

"I'm n-not decent!" Aoba squeaked. He took a quick gander at his sticky hands, his limp cock that was still hanging out, the wet spots on his clothes and sheets—"not decent" didn't even begin to describe his current state.

"Tch." The knocking stopped. "Stupid grandson. Dinner is ready."

And then Granny's footsteps started up again, getting farther and farther away from the door until they faded completely, and Aoba could relax. Sighing in relief, he slumped against the door, knocking the back of his head against it, and took a deep breath.

"I really, really hate you."

And all Desire did was laugh.

Chapter Text

"I don't want to go."

We're going.

"But I don't want to."

Yes you do.

Aoba hugged his knees to his chest, a deep pout on his lips. He knew there was no point in arguing with Desire, but it didn't stop him from trying.

"He's never going to do anything with us, you know—it's just wishful thinking on your part."

Desire snorted. Like he'll be able to resist us.

"...You sound pretty confident."

And why wouldn't I be? We're hot. Desire's grin was obvious in his voice. And we've got a great ass.

Aoba snorted with a short shake of his head, but couldn't help smirking. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Desire."

Anytime, anytime.

Aoba sighed, his smirk soon falling, and pressed his chin against his knees.

He was sitting in the boy's restroom after school (on the floor, unsanitary as it probably was), leaning against the wall and trying to kill time until his 'tutoring' session with Mink. The man had kicked him out of the classroom when the bell rang and told him to return in twenty minutes—Aoba could only hope some other students would show up within that window of time. Who knew what Desire would pull if they were left all alone? Aoba shuddered. He didn't want to know.

With a sigh, he fished his phone out of his pocket. Seventeen minutes had passed.

"I guess we better start heading back," he muttered, slipping his phone away. He paused. "Is there any point to me asking you to behave?"

A chuckle. Probably not.

"...Didn't think so."

Though he knew this was a terrible situation and he was probably in for it (whatever it was), Aoba dragged himself off the floor and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror in passing, pausing for a moment to ruffle his hair, straighten his jacket, and check his teeth—actions which didn't go unnoticed by Desire.

Preparing for something? Aoba's face pulled into a grin.

Aoba, his grin quickly replaced by a red-tinted look of mortification, shook his head and dropped his hands. He shoved them into his pockets with a muttered curse then headed to the door, hoping his blush would die down by the time he reached Mink's room.

Nineteen minutes had passed once he stood in front of Mink's locked door—the only one in the hallway that wasn't splattered with motivational posters, due dates, and the like. Mink liked to keep things simple, simple meaning bare, boring, and devoid of all the faux-fun teachers usually tried to inject into their lame-as-shit lessons.

Twenty minutes had passed when the door was unlocked with a click, but not opened. Aoba snorted with a short eye roll (it was Mink, it's not like he was surprised), then opened the door and shuffled inside, shutting it softly behind him with another little click. (And no other students were present as he surveyed the classroom, not one; his stomach dropped.) Mink's eyes stayed on the papers on his desk, but he motioned with one hand for Aoba to step closer.

When Aoba stood in front of Mink's desk he froze, just waiting for Desire to creep up and steal the spotlight, make him wish he'd never been born—but, oddly enough, his headache wasn't very bad, and his limbs still felt loose. He clenched his fingers, wiggled his toes. Yeah. His body was still his.

For some reason, this made him even more nervous.

"Pull up a chair from the back, Seragaki," Mink said, his voice flat but oddly smooth, as always. Aoba, supressing a shiver (and that was Desire's doing, he could have sworn to it), nodded and did as he was told. He grabbed a chair from the table in the back of the room and carried it to Mink's desk, then promptly froze when he was standing in front of it, wondering where he should set the chair down. His palms began to sweat and every word he thought to say got caught in his throat—but his desperation must have been obvious, because then Mink was snorting and motioning for him to set it down to the left of his desk. His face warming startlingly fast, Aoba did as instructed, then sat down on the little blue chair, crossing and uncrossing his legs, trying to get comfortable. He soon gave up since hell, nothing about this situation was comfortable, not even his ass, apparently.

"So…" Aoba cleared his throat, shrugging off his backpack and setting it on his lap. With shaky fingers he unzipped it and pulled out his History binder, figuring that was as good a place as any to start. "I, uhm, was going to finish the homework last night, but got kind of...sidetracked."

That's one way of putting it.

"I still answered most of the questions, though."

Aoba cleared his throat and opened his binder, ripping out the three worksheets they'd been assigned earlier in the week. He held them in front of him, and Mink took them; Aoba clasped his hands together on his lap to keep them from shaking. He was ridiculously nervous—and Desire wasn't even involved!

Not yet.

Aoba cleared his throat again, fidgeting in his seat, trying his best to look at everything but his teacher. His heart pounded like mad in his chest and he wrung his hands, trying for all the world to look less shaky than he felt.


Aoba jumped in his seat, then, slowly, turned to face Mink.

"E-Excuse me?"

"Your answers. They suck." Mink unceremoniously dropped Aoba's homework onto his desk, then turned his gaze on Aoba, crossing his arms across his chest. "Did you even try?"

Aoba felt like he'd been hit.

"I-I don't know." He ran trembling fingers through his bangs, swallowed hard. His hadn't paid much thought to his grades lately, what with the other him showing up all of a sudden, and his attention was always wandering in class nowadays…

"Your grades were fine the first two weeks; what the hell happened?" Mink eyed Aoba closely, carefully—it made Aoba squirm. He took a deep breath, nibbled his lip.

"I don't know," he mumbled to the floor. "I guess something else caught my attention."

Aoba clamped his lips shut. Those weren't his words. That wasn't his voice.

And he hadn't even felt it coming on.

Mink leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowed but with an odd spark of that same something flickering through them.


Aoba leaned forward—but it wasn't really Aoba, not anymore—his lips pulling up at the corners, his elbows knocking against the desk.

"You know what it means, teach." He grinned, leaning his chin on his hands. "Or are you stupid?"

Mink's nostrils flared and his eyes, which had been just a few degrees warmer than usual, turned to ice.

"That's some personality shift," he gritted, eyeing Aoba hard. Aoba cackled, snorting so badly he had to cover his mouth. So Mink wasn't stupid.

"You're perceptive, aren't you?" Desire lowered his palm away from his face, revealing a wide, semi-psychotic grin. He quickly stood up, his backpack and binder tumbling to the ground, and leaned against Mink's desk, half-sitting, half-standing, all smiles. "Tell me what else you've noticed."

"This is a waste of my time." Mink pushed his chair away from his desk like he was readying himself to stand, but then Desire's arms were braced against the armrests, caging Mink in, and their faces were so close they shared the same little bubble of air. (And again, Mink smelled like something indescribably sweet.)

"If all goes well, this won't be a waste of time for either of us," Aoba breathed, his pupils dilating and settling on Mink's mouth. He dragged them to Mink's fierce golden eyes, his breath growing shallow, ragged; and then, with a growl, he tried his damndest to shove his lips against the man he so desired.

Desire yelped as his back was shoved against Mink's desk before their lips were anywhere near close to touching, the man now towering over him, fury dancing in his eyes. Desire shivered at the feeling of Mink's fingers wrapped painfully tight around his wrists, pressing them against his sides; he hoped he'd bruise.

"You aren't Seragaki," Mink growled, his eyes searching Aoba's face once again. It was like he could see right through him, something that made Desire shiver even harder.

"What are you, crazy? Of course I am." Desire smiled sweetly, digging his nails into Mink's wrists. Mink didn't flinch.

"You're not."

"I am."

"You're not."

"Tch." Aoba stared at Mink for a long moment, finding nothing but steel-hard determination on his face, then rolled his eyes with melodramatic flair. "Fine. But, technically, Aoba and I are the same person. I'm just the part that sucks a lot less."

Mink sucked his teeth, glowering, then sat down again, releasing Aoba's wrists in the process. Desire rubbed the sore skin with a scowl. Getting hurt wasn't much fun if that's all there was to it.

"What do you want, then?" Mink's face was unreadable; even his eyes had dulled. "What will it take for you to give him back?"

Desire raised an eyebrow, blinking dully, then his grin was back in full force. This was a great opportunity.

I swear to God, Desire, don't you fucking dare

"How about we have a little fun?" Desire licked his lips, leaned forward. He braced his hands on either side of Mink's chair again, right by his arms, stared at Mink with a fatal combination of lust and excitement. He cocked his head, let his hair fall over his shoulders, tickling his neck and collarbones.

Mink was silent.

"I promise you, this mouth is good for a lot more than getting us into trouble," Desire pressed. Taking a shaky breath, he slowly trailed his fingers up Mink's right arm, nibbling his lower lip as their eyes locked, gold against gold. "I'll give Aoba back after I get what I want." A sweet smile. "You can trust me."

Mink's eyebrows crinkled, his eyes wavering as he stared into the face of desire itself—but then Desire was sinking down onto his knees, dragging his hands down Mink's chest and thighs, looking for all the world like a mischievous little minx as he stared up from in-between Mink's legs.

With the hope that Mink wouldn't suddenly snap and punch him square in the face (though, fuck it all, that would probably feel good), he made his boldest move yet: cupping Mink's crotch and squeezing tight. Mink's breath jumped, his eyes grew narrower, colder, even more intense...but he didn't move an inch.

Desire grinned.

"I'll make it worth your time," he breathed through his excitement, hastily popping the button of Mink's jeans and tugging the zipper down. His pulse was racing, his skin was electrified—not once, not even in his fantasies (and there had been many) did he ever feel like this: so alive. "What do you say?" He licked his lips, pants coming shallow and soft.

The only response he got as he yanked Mink's flaccid dick out of his fly were strong fingers gripping his hair and tugging him forward. Taking that as a 'hell yeah,' Desire shivered and squeezed the soft, hot flesh in his palm, his eyes trained on Mink, his tongue flicking against his lips. Quickly, he withdrew his palm and spat on it, then, his grin slowly returning, began to stroke Mink once more; his hand slid along his cock with ease, and Desire felt almost giddy as it jumped and twitched and hardened in his palm.

Just wishful thinking? Really, Aoba? He was gloating, it's not like he could help it, but the real Aoba didn't even bother to respond. Although disappointed, Desire figured he must have gone into shock—that, or he'd retreated into the furthest depths of his mind due to embarrassment. Oh, well. It's not like you can avoid feeling everything. A smirk. I'll make sure of that.

Leaning forward, he rubbed Mink's cock against his cheek, inhaling deeply—the man's scent was even more concentrated here, but it wasn't bad. It wasn't bad at all. He almost smelled like...cinnamon?

Aoba groaned, his mouth watering—he wanted to taste this man that smelled so good. Opening his mouth wide, he dragged his tongue against the side of Mink's slowly swelling cock, stabbed at the pulsing vein on the underside, then wrapped his lips tight around the head and lapped slow and hard, allowing his eyes to slip closed as he enjoyed the strangely sweet, but not unpleasant, taste of Mink's skin. He sucked hard as his hand continued to twist and pull at the stiffening base, his breathing already becoming ragged and heavy as he took short breaths through his nose.

With a mischievous grin he popped off Mink's cock, jerking him hard against his lips, kissing the head, nuzzling the shaft. "Tell me how you like it." He flicked his tongue against the tip again, jammed it into the slit; there wasn't much pre-cum to taste quite yet, but he was sure that situation would be remedied soon enough.

"Open your mouth," Mink said, his voice just a shade darker than usual. He gripped Aoba's hair tighter. "And stop talking."

Desire chuckled, placing another kiss on the crown. "Yes, sir." Resting his hands against Mink's thighs, he parted his lips widely and allowed Mink to maneuver his head forward, down a few inches, where he paused, hollowing his cheeks with noisy, wet sucks. He moaned through his nose, his eyelashes fluttering, and then he, without a single warning, was forced down until his mouth and throat were stuffed to the brim; he gagged on reflex, his mouth pooling with unwanted saliva, his stomach churning with violent intensity. Mink pulled him off quickly, snorting as Aoba panted and gasped, his eyes a watery mess, drool sliding from his open lips and dripping down his chin. That hurt.

"You said you'd make it worth my time." The smirk on Mink's face was downright cruel.

Desire scowled at the man above him, his wet eyes fierce and fiery, then swallowed Mink's cock of his own volition. He forced himself down until Mink's dick (and it was huge, now that it was fully hard) knocked against the back of his throat, then slid down even farther until he felt like gagging again, like puking his guts up, and tears were slipping and sliding down his red cheeks and plopping onto Mink's pants. He retched once again, his throat spasming around Mink's cock, and tried his best to breathe through his nose—but he couldn't, not with his airways blocked like this. His head started to spin; panic clawed at his chest; his lungs screamed for air.

Mink let out the quietest grunt when Aoba's throat spasmed again as he choked once more—and that was all it took for Desire's anxiety to melt away like ice thrown into a fire. His desire to please was much, much stronger than a little discomfort—and fuck, he thought, his groin twitching, I want this man to break me.

With sudden, sickening ease, Desire slid back up Mink's cock, letting the head pop out of his mouth as he took a moment to gasp. He moaned breathlessly once he had enough air to do so, eyeing Mink's spit-slick dick with hungry eyes; his lips were back on it in an instant, his hands braced against Mink's thighs, steadying himself. His head bobbed halfway down quickly, messily, drool sliding out the corners of his mouth and pooling on the seat below, and Mink's grip tightened to the point of blinding pain.

Desire moaned around the scalding hot rod in his mouth, sliding down to the base once again, ignoring the screaming pain of the stretch, the burn of his groin the longer this went on. He jammed his nose against Mink's pelvis, swallowing around his massive cock, scratching and clawing at the man's thighs as his head was held in place for a good few seconds and he was certain he was on the verge of asphyxiation. (The sensation made his hips ache.)

When his head was pulled up he whimpered and sputtered, panting pathetically, his teary eyes meeting blurry gold; but even through the haze, Aoba could see the heat burning in Mink's eyes, feel the fever thrumming beneath his clammy skin, hear his desperation in every quiet pant and groan.

He wanted this.

Mink desired him.

With a lustful grin, Desire allowed himself to be shoved back down, sucked as hard as he could, even let his teeth scrape and knick the side as he lapped and sucked and licked with no restraint—his carelessness earned his hair a tug so hard multiple strands popped loose.

"No teeth," Mink growled, grinding Desire's mouth against his pelvis, quiet and deep pants falling from his lips. Desire grinned the best he could around the meat in his mouth, his eyes dark, glassy, unfocused. His fingers on Mink's thighs twitched, and suddenly they dove towards his own pants, unfastening the clasp with hasty shakiness, pulling out his dripping cock and stroking so quick and hard he couldn't help his muffled moan—pre-cum dripped onto the floor, adding to the little puddles of saliva and tears already there. Aoba shuddered.

"Shameless," Mink muttered, but he didn't sound like he really cared; he only ground his hips against Aoba's mouth harder, gave him even less time to breathe before forcing himself in again, then out, then in, then out…

"Ngh!" Aoba moaned louder around Mink's cock, not a care in his mind for the location or the fact that neither had thought to lock the door (but danger made everything more fun, didn't it?). All he wanted was to get off, right now, with this man watching him while his huge, hard-as-steel cock wrecked his mouth and made him cry and drool and shake and moan and squirm and God he loved this he loved it he loved it

Desire's eyes slipped shut, his lungs burning, shiver after shiver running over his skin. The pain in his throat was a dull throb now, and he could feel himself fading in and out, the pleasure and pain and lack of air almost too much for him to take. His hand moved limply against his own arousal which, in contrast to the rest of him, was still very much awake.

Mink must have sensed Desire's struggle for consciousness, for he soon stopped his relentless thrusting and shoved Aoba's head aside, his own hand taking hold of his swollen cock, pumping as hard as he'd fucked Aoba's throat.

"Open your mouth," he ground out—but he didn't give Aoba much of a choice, not with the way he jerked his head back.

Weakly, Desire opened his mouth, panting—but his pants turned into choked little moans as splatters of white painted his face, his tongue, even his hair. (And the taste was even better, even sweeter than Mink's skin.) With a pitiful tug of his own cock and one look at Mink's pleasure-twisted face he came on himself and the floor, moaning quietly and breathlessly as he swallowed Mink's seed only to have more quickly take its place, like an endless stream against his lips.

The pleasure seemed to stretch on for hours, but once it finally tapered off, a rough chorus of pants and the occasional wet cough were the only sounds in the otherwise empty classroom. Mink's fingers were still firmly laced through Aoba's hair, a fact Desire had forgotten about until the moment Mink decided to yank, wrangling a cry of pain deep from Aoba's battered throat. His hands gripped Mink's wrists, nails digging in yet again, but, as before, Mink didn't so much as flinch.

"You got what you wanted," he said, his eyes still a bit glassier than they normally were, his cheeks a little more flushed. But his usual stern self was back, all the way from how he held himself, stiff and straight, to the hard look on his face. What a shame.

"I understand, Jesus Christ," Desire choked, his voice almost completely gone. He smirked lazily. Finally, finally he'd been broken. "Just let go of my fuckin' hair. Shit hurts."

Mink, with a grunt, slowly loosened his hold on Aoba's hair until his fingers retreated onto his lap—and then Desire's smirk began to fade, as did the striking gold of his eyes, and it wasn't long before two very wide, very confused hazel eyes and an even more confused expression took their place.

It took all of three seconds for Aoba to begin blushing. It took five seconds for him to wish he was dead. It took ten seconds for the extended eye-contact between Mink and himself to go from uncomfortable to downright painful.

And it took all of twenty seconds for him to jump to his feet, fasten his pants, and run like hell.

Chapter Text

Aoba's feet slapped against the hallway tiles as he ran, hardly a clue as to where he was going; but somehow he made it to the boy's restroom, reduced to nothing a mess of snot, tears, and God knew what else. His consciousness had been in a strange place during the whole ordeal—it was like he was awake, but he wasn't, like he was there, but he was watching everything through a clouded mirror, half-asleep, high as hell, something. He supposed that was his mind's natural system of self-defense for when things got a little too insane to handle.

But now, as Aoba looked in the real, glass mirror in front of him, everything was far too clear.

"I can't believe—" Aoba gripped his throat, wincing terribly; it was so sore he might as well have had strep throat. I can't believe you actually did that.

If Desire responded, which Aoba didn't think he did, he didn't hear it—he was too busy gazing in horror at the sticky, sweaty, downright disgusting sight of himself in the mirror.

His face was drenched in cum, sweat, tears, and drool—even though it all was beginning to dry, that only meant it was stickier, gooier, even grosser. He shivered as his fingers touched the worst of all the fluids, his mind flashing back to a blurry scene from only minutes before.

His face was so hot it physically burned, and he had to shake his head to dispel at least some of his embarrassment. This was it. There was no way he could live this down. No way in hell.

I'll just have to transfer schools, he thought to himself, grabbing a wad of paper towels from the dispenser and wetting them in the sink. Nobody even knows me that well here—Aoba's hand froze, his eyes bulged. Nobody had seen him come in here, right?

Releasing a sigh drenched in humiliation, Aoba continued to wipe his face clean of numerous bodily fluids, some of which weren't even his. (Insert shudder.) But, he thought to himself, his hand pausing once again, aside from the pain…

He shook his head again, wiping his face so hard his skin turned red. Desire was wrong, Desire was totally out of line, Desire had fucked up big time and there was no way Aoba was ever going to forgive him. Ever.

Aoba felt a small tug in his chest at the thoughts rushing through his head, but he couldn't imagine why. He wanted to get rid of Desire—he always had. Desire was a nuisance. Desire made him do terrible things. Desire was a freak of nature.

But it was kind of quiet without him chattering away in Aoba's ear, making perverted comments whenever he saw an opening. Aoba had even started getting used to referring to him as something other than 'you' or 'him' or the 'other me' (even if it had barely been a day since Desire's odd request; Aoba hadn't questioned it). But…

Aoba's eyebrow twitched.

Desire made him suck his teacher's dick, for fuck's sake.

I swear to God, I'll find a way to tell Granny you're here again, fucking up my life more than ever. Aoba glowered at his reflection in the mirror, still scrubbing his face raw. I'll paint it on the wall in my own blood if I have to. You're not fucking up anything else. You're leaving.

Aoba tossed the paper towels at the trashcan, but missed; he couldn't be bothered to pick them up.

He was so humiliated he wanted to puke.

Bracing his hands on the sink, he sniffled hard, holding back the embarrassed tears that were trying to spill out now that his anger was passing and his face was clean. He rubbed his throat again, wincing at the pain, and then, for the first time, noticed the state of his cum-matted hair.

Fuck me.

With a groan he ducked his head, turned on the faucet, and tried his hardest to rinse the sticky mess out. He rubbed it in-between his fingers, eyes shut, being careful not to irritate his sore scalp any further. This can't get any worse.

Funny how heavy footsteps were enough to change that opinion.

When the sound stopped at the door, Aoba's fingers froze, his eyes as wide as saucers, the water still running, soaking the side of his face.


Aoba's stomach twisted.

Silently, he straightened up, ignoring the way his wet hair whipped against his face, how water trickled down his cheek, and took a deep breath. His eyes met Mink's in the mirror for a second and just like that, his face went red. He wanted nothing more than to hide.

"What do you want?" Aoba tried to keep his voice stiff, but he couldn't hide his pain completely, nor could he hide the gravelly tone of his voice. Wincing, his hand touched his throat again, and he massaged it with light pressure.

Mink heaved a loud sigh, his footsteps resuming for a moment before stopping directly behind Aoba; Aoba knew that if he looked up, he'd be staring straight into his teacher's face.

Mink gently gripped Aoba's wrist—Aoba jumped but allowed his hand to be removed from his throat. Mink's fingers soon came to rest against Aoba's throat, and he gripped it for a second, making Aoba's body tense up and his mouth go dry. But then those fingers began to knead gently, applying just enough pressure to ease the dull ache, and Aoba's chest clenched. Before he knew it tears slipped down his cheeks; he wiped them away with his sleeve, sniffling loudly, his eyes squeezed shut.

"...Too far," Mink murmured, so quiet it sounded like he was talking to himself. Aoba could only imagine the look on his face; he didn't plan on finding out for himself.

"Why are you here?" Aoba whispered—that's all his voice could do at this point, what with his blubbering and the state of his throat.

Mink didn't respond, and Aoba almost peeked at his face to try and tell what he was thinking. Almost.

"...I shouldn't have let him..." Mink muttered, his voice only slightly louder than before, fading in and out as he spoke. Aoba's eyes finally swung to Mink, his mouth opening then shutting just as fast.


"The other one." Mink grunted, removing his fingers from Aoba's throat; without their presence, Aoba's neck felt cold. "The one who shares your body."

"I'd hardly call it sharing," Aoba muttered, his lips turning down. He let out a little cough, cleared his throat (ouch). "How…?" The question hung in the air.

"It's obvious to anyone with half a brain," Mink said, "that sometimes you don't act like yourself. And this you— " Mink gestured with his hand, "—would never pull a stunt like that."


Mink snorted, his hand that left Aoba's throat (which, though still sore, already felt a good bit better) now rubbing some of Aoba's wet and sticky hair between his fingers. He tsked, then pulled his hand back. Aoba sniffled; at least most of his tears had dried.

"I'm taking you home."

"What?" Aoba's eyes bulged. "You don't—you don't have to do that."

"Where do you live?"

"Uh." Aoba shut his eyes and let out a sigh. "Ten, fifteen minutes away. I can walk, really, it's no big—"

"You're not walking." Mink turned around, leaving Aoba's back feeling oddly cold. "We're leaving."

"I…" Aoba could only watch Mink's back as he disappeared around the corner and out the door. "...Alright then."

After gathering his binder and backpack from Mink's room and tying his hair into a messy bun (and also ignoring the wet spots on the classroom floor as Mink wiped them up with tissue), Aoba found himself sitting in the passenger seat of Mink's car, clutching his backpack so tightly the buckles were starting to dig in and hurt his arms and chest. He loosened his grip but just a little—it was the only thing keeping his nerves in check.

He gave directions to Mink in a quiet voice—a voice so quiet, in fact, Mink asked (more like commanded) him to speak up. But once Aoba muttered that his throat still hurt and speaking loudly was difficult, Mink's complaints ceased. Aoba wondered if he felt guilty.

But then they sped right past his house, and his heart leapt into his throat.

"Uh, that was—we passed—"

"I know." A pause. "I need to get something from my house. It's close." They pulled to a stop at an intersection, the light shining red. "You can stay in the car if you want."

"Ah...okay." Aoba squeezed his backpack tighter. He just wanted to go home and shower and sleep and ignore his homework and hopefully not have to talk to Desire for the rest of the night. He'd been oddly quiet since the...incident (cue blush), but who knew when that would change.

Not even five minutes later, Mink pulled into the driveway of a small house nestled in a cul-de-sac. It wasn't fancy, but it wasn't terribly run-down, either—a nice place, in Aoba's opinion, with its brown shutters and brown siding and carefully-trimmed lawn.

"I'll only be a moment," Mink said. He got out quickly, shutting the door so hard the little car shook, then stepped up the driveway and disappeared inside the tiny house.

Aoba released a deep sigh, loosened his iron grip on his backpack. His head smacked against the headrest of his seat, and he closed his eyes, took a long breath. His temple pulsed just barely.

You still mad?

Aoba scoffed.

What do you think?

A sigh in his ears, then nothing but quiet. Desire didn't seem up to conversation, Aoba thought. Not that he was complaining.

He opened his eyes just in time to see Mink stepping down the driveway, a thermos in one hand and a little tub in the other. Aoba cocked his head, squinted at the objects, wondered what they were.

Mink opened the door then slid back into his seat, and before he'd even closed it the objects were being offered to Aoba, Mink's gaze set straight ahead.

Aoba could only stare in silence at the objects in Mink's hands. Eventually, Mink sighed.

"Take them."

As though those words awakened Aoba from a trance, he grabbed them, his hands shaking ever so slightly.

"Th-Thank you."

Mink grunted and finally closed the driver side door.

As he turned the car on, threw it into gear, and backed out of the driveway, Aoba stared at the two objects in his hands. He turned the top on the thermos, sniffed it—it smelled...delicious. His mouth watered.

"Uh…" He cleared his throat (it didn't hurt as badly as before, thank God). "What are these?"

"Tea and herbal cream for your hair."

"Cream hair?" Aoba stared at him, blinked a couple of times. "But I have...shampoo?"

"Just use it."


Aoba, pink dusting his cheeks, brought the thermos to his lips and took a sip—it was so hot he sputtered the second it touched his tongue, tipping the thermos and spilling a good bit onto his backpack. "Sh-Shit!" He held his tingling tongue with his fingers (the tub of cream had fallen onto his lap), and stared at Mink with wide, terrified eyes. Mink only sighed, and, as they pulled up to a red light, leaned over Aoba and opened the glove compartment. He rummaged for a moment then pulled out a couple of napkins, turning his body so he could mop up the mess Aoba made.

Aoba was all stutters and blushes and insisted he could clean up by himself, but Mink ignored him in silence as he dabbed at the mess; he was done by the time the light turned green, the napkins thrown into a small paper bag and shoved underneath Mink's seat.

"Be more careful."

Aoba nodded, holding the thermos to his lips. He blew into the little hole, his heart beating just a tiny bit faster than normal. Within a few quiet moments they pulled in front of his house, and he clambered out of the car with a couple of stuttered thank-you's and his hands holding objects he never expected to receive from someone like Mink.

Mink sped away as Aoba let himself in with his key and stepped into the warm, quiet house. He called for Granny, listened for a response, but she was still out judging from the silence. Kicking his shoes off, he stared again at the objects in his hands, his face burning at the thought that wow, Mink actually gave him something. Two somethings. And took him home and rubbed his throat and cleaned him up when he spilled tea on himself like a complete idiot.

Speaking of tea… Aoba brought the thermos to his lips, took a careful sip. It was the perfect temperature now—not too hot, not too cold—and he gasped aloud at the wonderful taste.

As he headed up the stairs he took another sip, then another, then another. He'd never tasted anything like it before—spicy and sweet and soothing and delicious. He plopped onto his bed, his backpack tossed onto the floor and the cream carefully set on his nightstand, and drained the thermos in a matter of minutes. It was heaven on his throat.

When the thermos was empty he set it next to the cream, which Aoba now took a moment to inspect. He picked up and held the tiny wooden tub in his hands, turned it over, squinted at the pretty tribal markings carved all along it. Then he unscrewed the cap.

The tea had smelled nice, but this smelled even better (Aoba wondered how that was possible). He took a deep whiff of the white cream—it smelled like flowers and fresh herbs—and his mind flashed back to Mink and the way he almost seemed embarrassed when he gave him these things; Aoba didn't notice the smile on his own face until his cheeks started getting sore.

He nibbled his lip, twisted the top of the cream shut, and thought, guided by the beating of his heart and the warmth of his cheeks, that maybe, just maybe, Desire was on to something.

Chapter Text

Soft blue hair fell past pale shoulders, brushed against sharp collarbones, continuing on until it nearly rested against Aoba's hips. Aoba wore a small, contented smile on his face, his fingers wound together, his thumbs brushing against one another as he sat patiently waiting for his hair to be finished. His eyes had slipped closed at some pointthe feeling of having his hair treated so gently was incredibly relaxing.

Warm hands twirled his hair into tight braids with finesse, and Aoba sighed softly as he felt another finished braid come to rest against his shoulder. He ran his fingers over it, feeling the little bumps against the pad of his thumbit was perfect, just like all the others.

"I'm finished."

Aoba's eyes gradually opened. His vision was a little blurryhis eyes had been closed for quite a whilebut once the face staring down at him came into focus, his chest fluttered and his pulse jumped.

"Th-Thank you." He clutched the braid in his fingers tighter, nibbled his lip. It was hard to look Mink in the eye.

Mink swept some of Aoba's loose hair away from his neck, the ticklish feeling of fingers and hair against his skin making Aoba shiver. Calloused fingers gently brushed against the nape of his neck, up to his pulse, his jaw, pausing there to stroke his cheek, his chin, his lips. Aoba couldn't remember how to breathe.

"They really suit you," Mink murmured, his warm lips brushing against Aoba's cheek as he spoke. Aoba shut his eyes againbut they opened the moment he felt the gentlest pressure against his lips, his heart stuttering in his chest.

The kiss tasted of cinnamon, of sweetness, and was less of a kiss and more of a gentle caress of Mink's lips on his own. Aoba felt himself melt into it, open his mouth a little wider, relax back against Mink's chest, entirely enveloped in warmth and the spicy-sweet taste of the man's skin.

Aoba bolted upright in bed.

He sat there for a good ten seconds or so, hardly awake, vivid pictures from seconds before beginning to lose their color and fade into the image of his bedspread right in front of his eyes. The feeling of safety, of near-stifling warmth from his dream dissipated until there was nothing left but confusion, swiftly followed by recognition.

And then he noticed his alarm was still going off.

With a groan and a kick of his sheets, Aoba slammed his fist against his clock, sighing in relief as the annoying beep was finally silenced.

Aoba, what the fuck.

...If only he could silence that.

Don't play innocent, he thought groggily, blindly feeling around for his blanket and tugging it around his shoulders. His room was cold.

After a few moments of raucous laughter, Aoba decided it was much, much too early for Desire to be so chipper.

Are you fuckin' serious? Like hell I'd come up with some mushy shit like that! Another bout of laughter littered with snorts. That was all you, baby. All you.

Aoba's heavy eyes were suddenly very, very wide.

"...No way."

Yes way.

Aoba shook his head just barely—soon he was nodding, but not voluntarily.

That's right, Aobayou dreamed that up all. By. Your. Self.

Aoba buried his face in his hands; his cheeks felt like they were going to melt off.

"But there's no way—why would I even—"

Uh, because you like him? Desire snorted; Aoba could imagine him rolling his eyes. Please tell me you're not that slow.




There was never any point to arguing with Desire in the first place (he was very, very good at getting what he wanted), but now, Aoba was only trying to fool himself. He wouldn't have had that dream if he didn't…


That's the spirit.

Aoba sat in silence for a moment, his thoughts running a mile a minute. He liked Mink. He actually liked him. He like liked him. He like liked him a lot. He like liked him so much he had a dream about them kissing and cuddling and Mink braiding his hair—God knows why his mind chose that scene. It was just so, just so...

Are you still mad at me?

Aoba's thoughts paused.

Then they resumed along a much, much different track.

Of course I fucking am.


Aoba groaned, flopped back against his bed. He'd almost forgotten about yesterday's incident, no thanks to Desire—his mind simply hadn't had the chance to remember the events of yesterday thanks to how eventful this morning had already been. Absentmindedly, Aoba reached for his throat; it didn't hurt anymore. It didn't hurt at all. Too bad his humiliation was still fresh as yesterday.

Aoba's eyes drifted to his nightstand, to the thermos, to the little wooden tub.

I think somebody likes you~ Desire sang with a snicker. Good thing I'd never fall for that kind of shit.

Just shut up, Aoba thought, nuzzling his face against his covers, yawning. I don't want to talk to you.

And just like that, Desire was gone.

Aoba blinked, more than a little surprised that Desire actually listened for once. That… Aoba furrowed his brows. That's not like him at all.

But Aoba didn't have long to think on it—within seconds Granny was pounding on his door, shouting about lazy grandsons and tardiness, and Aoba fell out of bed, yelling that he was awake, and his focus had shifted to what to wear for the day.

Desire didn't speak for a while after that.

It was strange, not having near-constant internal dialogue to accompany him throughout his school day, not having Desire narrate every idiotic move he made, whisper perverted fantasies he never knew he had in his ear at the worst possible times. The mental quiet made it easier for him to focus on his work, of course (and God knew he needed to), but it also made him realize that he, almost four weeks into the school year, didn't have any friends to speak of. Not a single one. And if that wasn't pathetic, he didn't know what was.

Aoba's heart ached for his old school, his old home, his old life. But more than anything he wished for a life where Desire didn't meddle. A life without Desire interfering would be a great life indeed, Aoba was convinced of it.

And it wasn't like he didn't get along with the kids in his grade—he got along well enough, socialized when it was required, even sat with a few students at lunch—but other than that he couldn't be bothered to put forth the effort to establish superficial friendships that would do nothing more than provide background noise. (He already had enough of that, thank you.) He had a friend in Ren, he had a friend in Sei—even if he and his brother hadn't spoken once since the accident and Aoba's hasty departure.

Aoba sighed, twirling a pencil in one hand, his cheek resting against the other, his elbow against his desk. Math class was even more boring than usual—at least Desire used to provide some distraction from the sheer idiocy that was graphing linear equations.

Soon enough Math class ended and English class began; then English class ended, and Art class began. After lunch (which Aoba could barely eat) came World History—a class no amount of mental preparation could ready Aoba for.

Aoba steeled himself outside Mink's classroom, paying no attention to the students brushing past him on their way inside. He briefly considered the repercussions of skipping fourth period and spending it in the bathroom or walking home early instead—but that idea was tossed to the wind when Mink stepped into the doorway.

Aoba almost squeaked.

"The bell's about to ring, Seragaki." Mink cocked one eyebrow when Aoba only blushed and stuttered, all knowledge of language seeming to have fled to the furthest recesses of his mind.

And then Mink reached for his throat.

Mink's fingers barely brushed against his skin, but it still tingled—Aoba held his breath.

"Your throat…" Mink's eyes clouded over. "How is it?"

"It's…" Aoba blinked a couple of times, reflexively reaching for it himself. It seemed he'd found his voice again. "It's...a lot better." He looked at the ground. "Thank you."

"Don't say that."

The bell rang, and a few lingering students rushed towards the classroom, slipping past Mink like a litter of naughty puppies with their tails between their legs; he didn't spare them a glance. Aoba ducked his head and followed—but then he paused halfway into the classroom, one hand on the doorframe.

"Oh, the thermos—"

"Keep it."

Mink walked past Aoba and took his usual seat at his desk—just the sight sent Aoba into a flurry of embarrassment, propelled his feet to his seat faster than ever before. He slid into it and practically drowned himself in his jacket, sinking down until the collar obscured his view on either side. Without Desire, this class somehow seemed even worse than normal. It didn't make sense.

Mink stood after giving his students a few moments to settle, and the lesson began as normal —but, and it could have been Aoba's imagination, over-active as it was, as the lesson dragged on it seemed like Mink was looking over a bit more than usual, catching eyes with Aoba so often he almost felt...special? (And it was different from before, when Desire was in control—there was no anger in Mink's eyes. None at all.)

Somebody likes you~

Aoba's body jerked, his arm knocking his notebook off his desk in one fell swoop.

Thankfully, no one else was paying enough attention to him to notice his blunder (though, knowing his track record thus far, no one would have been very surprised), except for one person: Mink.

Aoba felt like he'd been lit on fire.

He expected Mink to snort, to look down on him, shake his head with a dismissive glance as he continued on, but he never expected Mink to…

Aoba couldn't believe his eyes.

Was Mink...smiling?

It was barely there, barely more than a small twitch of his lips, but…

Aoba sank into his seat once again, wishing his jacket would swallow him whole.

I think somebody likes you~


Aoba paused at the door, his heart sinking to the soles of his shoes. He'd made it through class, taken notes, even started the homework—all he'd wanted was to sneak out unnoticed, and...

"Do you have a few minutes?"

Aoba sighed and nodded, turning slowly to face Mink. He clutched the straps of his backpack, shifted from foot-to-foot, tried his best to force a smile. The last few students slipped past him, laughing about something clearly hilarious—Aoba envied their carefree attitudes more than he ever knew he could.

Mink, sighing heavily, leaned against his desk and motioned for Aoba to step closer. Aoba was hesitant, and for good reason—being alone with Mink in this room didn't seem like the brightest idea, not with Desire still resting in the back of his mind. But Aoba stepped forward anyway, stopping directly in front of Mink.

Mink was the first to speak.

"I suppose it goes without saying that we need to talk about yesterday."

Aoba felt his face heat up (of course), and nibbled his lip. It took him a moment, but then he nodded.

"...Yeah." He felt the smallest little pulse in his temple; his heart thudded in fear. "But—but can we talk somewhere else?" He was beginning to sweat, he could feel it on the nape of his neck: cold, sticky, wet.

Mink gave Aoba a strange look, but within a second it relaxed into one of grim recognition, and dare Aoba say, regret. It seemed like Aoba was getting better at reading Mink's small changes in expression—or maybe Mink was letting his guard down just a little (but Aoba doubted this was the case).

"Of course."

And that's how Aoba found himself in a crowded little coffee shop roughly twenty minutes later, staring into the lid of a drink that had been forced upon him by none other than Mink himself.

He sighed.

"...Are you sure you don't want me to pay you back?"

Mink took a sip of his own drink—a cinnamon latte, of all things—and nodded once. "I'm sure."

Aoba cleared his throat, took a small sip of his pumpkin-spice coffee. At least he didn't burn his tongue this time.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, clearing his throat, setting his drink back on the table. It was hard to look Mink square in the face—doing so made his heart stutter, his stomach twist. He didn't quite like the feeling.

"Your other personality…" Mink set his coffee down, knitted his brows. "Tell me about him."

Aoba nearly flinched.

"Well, he…" Aoba took a deep breath, settled back into his chair. "He's been around for a while, I guess, but he...shut up for a while thanks to the medicine my Granny gave me."

Pain tore through Aoba's forehead, all the way back to his scalp. He clutched at his head, squinted his eyes.

"He didn't take too kindly to that."

Mink nodded, eyeing Aoba with a mixture of concern and something else Aoba couldn't quite place. "Go on."

"When I was a little younger, and I still lived back in my hometown, he'd talk to me all the time. He'd convince me to do things I'd never usually do, but he never...took over my body." Aoba cleared his throat, lowered his hand; his face felt hot. "That's something new."

"And your grandmother," Mink said, "she knows he's back?"

"...Not exactly." Aoba finally dragged his eyes off his cup and up to Mink. "I haven't been able to tell her thanks to the whole 'controlling-my-body' thing. I've tried, but..."

"I see."

"Yeah." Aoba picked up his drink and took a sip, then set it back down with a heavy sigh. "Sorry. I probably sound crazy."

"Not at all." Mink's lips twitched. "Why do you think he came back?"

"Uh…" Shit.

What's the matter, Aoba? Peeling laughter, ricocheting around Aoba's head. Can't man up and tell him the truth?

Aoba nibbled his lip.

"...I guess he just got bored."

For the love of God. Desire snorted; Aoba could feel him clawing his way to the forefront of his mind, sifting through the layers that usually separated them. Panic stabbed at Aoba's chest and he opened his mouth to warn Mink, but then it was too late, and his lips were moving, his posture was shifting, and his body wasn't his anymore.

He leaned forward; Mink leaned back. Desire was all smiles.

"I came back because Aoba has a huge fuckin' crush on you, I personally think you're hot as shit, and we both wanna bang you. Capeesh?"

And then his mouth closed, and Aoba's body was his.

"...Oh my god."

Chapter Text

Aoba slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with shocked terror, his blood running cold. All he could do was stare at Mink as the man sighed, then picked up his drink and took a measured sip, his expression not shifting an inch.

"Is that all?"

Aoba blinked.

"Uh…" He swallowed, slowly lowering his hand away from his mouth. "Y-Yeah. I...think?"

With a grunt, Mink set his drink on the table—then his eyes were on Aoba, probing, searching for something so fiercely Aoba felt like he'd been split right open, all his secrets spilling out onto the little table between them.

"Well, it's obvious," Mink muttered, crossing his arms. He continued to stare at Aoba, looking him straight in the eye until Aoba finally forced his eyes to the table, barely suppressing a shiver.

"...What's obvious?" He didn't really want to ask, but…

"Your feelings towards me." Mink picked up his drink, took a slow sip. Aoba sputtered.

"But I—I mean, I don't really, I don't really like you—"

Desire heaved a sigh from somewhere deep in Aoba's mind.

You're fuckin' hopeless, you know that? His voice got closer, closer until he sounded like he was right next to Aoba's ear. After cumming with his name on your lips and your fingers in your ass…

"Desire!" Aoba could feel his cheeks thrumming with heat, shook his head, slapped hands over his ears (as if that would help). Mink watched with silent curiosity—though not much was given away by his expression.


Aoba's eyes popped open and he swallowed hard. Slowly, he lowered his hands, nibbling a hole right through his lip. God, this was embarrassing.

"The other one." A pause. "The other me."

"He has a name?"

Aoba nodded and shrugged, his eyes downcast. "I guess."

"Hm." Mink's eyes shut for a moment; he seemed to be thinking. Aoba stared so intensely he jumped when Mink's eyes finally popped open. "You want to get rid of him, correct?"

"Ah." Aoba blinked quickly. "Well, yeah, I mean, he makes things difficult and...awkward."

You wound me, Aoba.

"...I see." Quite suddenly, Mink pushed his chair out and got to his feet. He grabbed his coffee and eyed Aoba for a moment until Aoba got the message and clambered to his feet as well. "I'll be taking you home now."

"I...okay?" Aoba grabbed his drink, eyed Mink strangely. Mink, without a glance at Aoba, grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, threw it over his shoulder, and stepped towards the door. Aoba followed but found he had to walk awfully fast just to keep up with Mink's wide strides.

"Did I...say something to upset you?" Aoba asked once they finally fell into step outside the little shop. Mink's eyes darted to Aoba, and he blinked a few times, his eyebrows creasing just barely.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Just…" Aoba bit his lip, pressed the lid of his drink against his mouth. "Just wondering."

Mink sighed as they came to a stop in front of his car parked at the curb. "If it's about what...Desire said, no. I'm not upset." A little quieter, he added: "I'm not surprised, either."

Aoba nodded, his cheeks aflame, and scurried around the car to the passenger-side door. He waited patiently for Mink to unlock it, and once he did, Aoba slipped inside, drink still firmly pressed against his bite-swollen lip, face still splotched with red.

Mink slid in as well, a soft sigh on his lips, and started the car.

They pulled out of the crowded parking without another word exchanged and made it halfway to Aoba's house before their semi-comfortable silence was broken.


Aoba jumped, almost spilling his drink on himself yet again—thankfully, it wasn't as full as yesterday, so he managed to stay dry.


"Why do you like me?"

Aoba could feel his embarrassment in the pit of his stomach.

"I-I…" He nibbled the top of his drink, his throat beginning to feel awfully tight. "I don't know. Y-You're just…"

Desire snickered. Need a little help?

Aoba's eyes slipped closed. No.

"I just...I don't know." He swallowed noisily, shifted in his seat. There was no point in stopping now—Mink would probably drag it out of him, anyway. "I'm not entirely sure why, heart and head feel all weird when I'm around you, and sometimes it's...really hard to just...stop looking at you. It's like my eyes are glued to you or...something."

Aoba hadn't ever felt this lame before in his life. He was a failure as a man, he could feel it in his bones.

"...I see."

Aoba really didn't want to see the expression on Mink's face (he was probably making fun of him, oh God, oh God), but his head moved anyway, his eyes slipped open.

If Mink was amused by Aoba's words, his face didn't show it. If anything, his face was even more unreadable than ever—Aoba's anxiety tripled. When they pulled up to his house not two minutes later, he found he'd never been more grateful for the sight.

He grabbed his backpack off the floor, opened his mouth to say thank you—and that's where he made his mistake. Before he knew it, he was watching through clouded glass yet again, his body entirely stiff, his head throbbing like nobody's business.

Desire was getting awfully good at sneaking up on him.

"One more thing before we go, teach." Mink's eyes narrowed, his face changing from indifference to total disgust in the span of a second. Desire grinned. "Hey, don't be like that—not after I gave you such a good time yesterday."

Mink steeled his jaw, narrowed his eyes. The knuckles of his hands gripping the steering wheel soon went white.

"What do you want?"

Desire chuckled, taking a quick sip of the drink in his hand. He wrinkled his lip. "This tastes like shit."

"Get on with it, Desire."

Desire's eyes lit up, his lips curving into a wicked smirk. "Ooh, I like it when you say my name." He inched a little bit closer, smirked a little wider. "Say it again."

Mink glared.

Desire laughed, then set his drink in the cup holder, kicked his backpack to the ground. "Don't think I mean anything weird by this—I'm just doing the prude a favor."

Desire twisted his body in the seat until he was on his knees, his body facing Mink, his hands on his own thighs. Mink cocked one eyebrow, his eyes never leaving Desire's face.

And then Desire kissed him.

It was an awkward kiss, one that was hardly a press of Desire's lips against Mink's and more of Desire's mouth against Mink's chin, but then Desire gripped Mink's jaw and yanked his head down just enough so their lips meshed together properly. In an instant he faded out, leaving Aoba in control of the body, right where Desire wanted him to be.

Aoba's eyes couldn't have been any wider.

He jolted backwards, hand over his mouth, heart beating like a drum. His entire body shook, and he reached for the door with trembling fingers, forcing it open so quickly it creaked and groaned under the sudden force. He grabbed his backpack, forgetting his drink (it was too close to Mink), then jumped out of the car, much too humiliated to even chance a look back at his teacher. But just before he shut the door, he heard Mink say:

"Have a good weekend, Seragaki."

Aoba's legs felt like rubber.

"You know, I feel like one day you'll stop surprising me," Aoba threw his backpack into the corner, hand smacking against his red face, "but somehow, you always manage to do the randomest shit at the worst times."

It's what I'm good at. And hey, don't even act like you didn't enjoy thatit was a kiss. Isn't that what you wanted?

"Well, I mean, yes, but—" Aoba took a deep breath, ran his fingers through his hair. "Not like that, Desire. Just…" He lowered his hand and trudged towards his bed. "When are you going to stop trying to ruin my life?"

Uh,  never.

"...Whose side are you on, anyway?" Aoba grumbled, flopping back against his bed. Well, at least he had the weekend to recover from this traumatic week.

All's fair in love and war.

"Do you even know what that means?"

Nah, but it seemed fitting.


Aoba flung an arm over his eyes and heaved a sigh. "He must think I'm absolutely insane. And we didn't even talk about yesterday." Aoba grimaced; he was still beyond embarrassed, but at least it was clear it wasn't actually him who initiated the whole ordeal.

But I am a part of you.

"Yeah, a part I want nothing to do with."


Aoba felt a small twinge of guilt but immediately shoved it aside; Desire brought this on himself.

"Any chance you'll let me tell Granny about you tonight?"

What would this be...your fourth try? Desire snickered. I think you know the answer to that by now.

Aoba groaned, lowering his arm from his face and letting it fall against the bed.

But hey, Aoba…

Images of his and Mink's kiss sped through Aoba's mind—the feeling of his lips, if only for a second, the intoxicating scent of his skin, so heavy and heady in Aoba's nostrils.

Aoba's hand, not quite his, brushed against his lips; they still tingled.

He definitely likes you.

"Sh-Shut up!" Aoba flopped over, burying his face in a pillow. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, hear it in his ears. "There's no way he likes me."

Jesus, you really are slow. Desire sighed; Aoba could imagine him making himself comfortable, as if he was about to go off on a tangent. Let's see...well, yesterday, he not only let us suck him-


...Us suck him off, he also followed you into the restroom when you ran off like a little bitch

"I resent that."

I resent a lot of things. But, he gave us tea, some weird conditioner-type shit for our hair, and even took us home. And today he took you out for coffeeand remember, he made you get a drink, his treatthen took us home again. And he even let us kiss hi

"That was you!"

But it's still our body. Desire chuckled, then, quite suddenly, forced Aoba to roll onto his back. Aoba blinked.


Our face… Aoba's fingers slid up his torso, his chest, his throat, his jaw. Our hair… His fingers slid into his hair, which—thanks to whatever Mink gave him yesterday—was softer than usual, lightly tussled it. Our body…. Desire's hands dragged down Aoba's chest, stopping just before his jeans. Aoba let out a shaky breath.

"In the mood?"

Something like that.

Aoba, with a sigh of resignation, unbuttoned his pants, slid them over his hips, and kicked them away, leaving him in nothing but a pair of boxers, his socks, and his usual blue shirt.

Ooh, somebody's eager. Desire laughed, right in Aoba's ear, the way he knew Aoba loved so much. Aoba shivered, as expected.

"It's not like I have a choice."

But even if you did, Desire said, his voice growing deeper, would you really resist?

Aoba nibbled on his lip. He...he didn't know the answer to that.

I thought so… Desire laughed, settling their body against the wall, spreading their legs. I'm in the mood for something...different.

"Wh-What do you—?"

Aoba's head fell back against the wall, his lip caught between his teeth as his fingers barely dragged against his groin. He felt his cock twitch and his hips tense up.

You're so much fun to tease, Aoba—fingers scratching against his inner thighs, up-and-down, up-and-down—I think I might just take my time with you.

"That's...not usually...your style…"

People change.

As if to emphasize this, Aoba's hands abandoned his groin entirely and instead trailed up to his hips, lifted his shirt over his head, and tossed it aside. Aoba shivered, eyeing the door.

"Should we lock it…?"

Granny won't be home for a while. Desire chuckled. We'll be fine.

Aoba's hands dragged up his chest yet again, stopping at his pecs, his hands quickly finding his nipples, giving them each a hard tug. Aoba jerked.


He allowed his eyes to slip shut, nibbling his lip, one cheek pressed against the wall.

"J-Just...make it quick...I have…" Aoba moaned quietly as his nipples were rolled between his fingers, his hips gyrating against the air. "...Homework."

I said I wanted to take my time, didn't I? Desire sighed, but it morphed into a laugh when Aoba whimpered at a particularly hard pinch. You suck at listening.


Desire growled, tugging Aoba's nipples so hard it bordered on pain. Aoba couldn't stifle his cry—and even worse than that, he felt himself react to the slight pain, felt his body grow even hotter and his dick swell.

A little masochistic, are we?

"Shut up and just...get on with it…" Aoba's eyebrows drew together; he could feel himself beginning to sweat. "Please?"

So needy. Desire's grin was clear as day in his voice. But, since you asked so nicely…

Aoba's fingers abandoned his nipples (and Aoba heaved a sigh of relief—they were getting sore), and dragged down the hard planes of his chest, his stomach, pausing right above his groin. Aoba squirmed as his fingers ghosted over the outline of his erection, his thumb teasing the dampening tip.

Let's play a game, Aoba.

Aoba blinked.


It'll be fun for both of usif you do what you're told. Desire chuckled. If you don't, I might just leave you like this, all frozen and frustrated.

"...You wouldn't."

I would.

Aoba whined, squirming against his bedspread, his hips bucking against his hand. "Fine, whatever, I don't care."

Good boy.

Before Aoba had a chance to form a response for that (and it wouldn't have been a kind one), his boxers were tugged down, his dick was exposed, and fingers were playing with the sticky tip. He shivered with a grimace at how wet he already was, embarrassed, but soon his expression was one of unrestrained pleasure when Desire slid his pre-cum drenched fingers down his cock.

Already so wet and I've barely touched you.

Aoba whimpered, his lips parting easily when three fingers found their way to his lips. He sucked on them, albeit a little reluctantly—but then he remembered the soreness from the last time, and sucked avidly, slipping his tongue between his fingers until they were sopping wet.

His fingers popped out of his mouth when Desire deemed him ready, drool sliding down his chin.

Tch. Desire jerked Aoba's cock; pre-cum spurted from the tip, dribbling down his shaft, onto his hand. What a mess.

He scooped the drool off Aoba's chin as Aoba panted, eyes heavy, body burning. Aoba whimpered when those fingers circled his nipple, the wetness against his heated skin enough to make him dizzy.

Soon those fingers slipped down his chest, past his groin, dove into his boxers; Aoba's legs automatically spread farther apart as he slid down the wall, his head propped up at an awkward angle, his chest heaving.

Now, Desire chuckled as the first wet finger slid up-and-down Aoba's perineum, circled his ass, our game begins.

Aoba's mind was swimming, but he nodded, moaning through his bitten lip.

I want you to tell me, in as much detail as you can, exactly what you want Mink to do to you. To  us.

Aoba's eyes popped wide open.

"I-I can't do that."

Desire's finger slipped inside Aoba's ass as his hand slid along his cock; Aoba cried out, his back arching, his ass hugging his finger tightly.

Then it must be fine to stop here... Aoba's finger wiggled around, loosening him up, and he groaned. Desire snickered. Just start with a kiss. That's not so bad, right?

Aoba shut his eyes, took a deep breath. "I...want kiss me…"

Another finger slipped inside, crammed next to the other; Aoba whimpered.

Go on.

"He...he'd brush my hair back and k-kiss me deeper…ngh…" Desire scissored his fingers, making Aoba's toes curl against his bedspread. "And—ahh—and he'd, he'd bite my lip, p-pull me closer…"

Sounds nice. Desire rubbed against Aoba's walls, searching for the place that would unravel him the most. Keep going.

"It-It's embarrassing, ahh—Desire!"

Desire chuckled, scissoring his fingers even wider, careful to rub against that spot. Keep going or I'll stop right now.

Aoba groaned in frustration, his entire body hot, shaking, out of control. Desire was downright cruel.

You need a little help, Aoba? His fingers twisted, stirring Aoba up just right. C'mon, tell me how you want Mink to fuck you. You want him to cram his dick in your ass, fuck you until you're a drooling mess? Aoba shivered violently, his cock jerking, his ass so wet he would have been disgusted if he could think straight. Do you want him to cum inside, filling you up? Aoba cried out, shaking his head. Oh come on, Aoba...I can just imagine how wrecked you'd look with your legs spread, face all red, cum dripping out of your ass. Slut.

Aoba bit his lip, his eyes watering as a third finger was forced inside, his dick was stroked so perfectly he wanted to scream. He was already so close…

Hey! Suddenly fingers clamped around the base of his dick, preventing his orgasm, and the fingers in his ass paused their violent thrusting. I didn't say you could cum.

Aoba cried out in frustration, sweat dripping down his temple, his cheek. "You're...cruel…"

Just tell me what you want, Aoba. Desire's laugh bounced around his mind, making Aoba's heart thump even harder. Tell me your fantasy.

Although Aoba was so embarrassed he wanted to crawl into a hole and die, the urge for release was a much too intense to ignore. He swallowed his dignity (as if he had any left) and took a staggered breath.

"...He would...push me against the wall…" Aoba swallowed hard, his eyes slipping closed and his words painting pictures behind his eyes. He whimpered as the fingers clenched around his base loosened, just enough to take the edge off the pain. "He would...take off my shirt, kiss my chest…" Aoba squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "...My nipples."

Now we're getting somewhere. One stroke. Keep going.

Aoba whimpered, gnawed on his lip. "...He'd suck on them, a-and...and he'd kiss me again while he took off my pants…"

The fingers in Aoba's ass thrusted hard; his back lifted off the bed as he moaned.

"He'd wrap my legs around his waist...and make me suck on his fingers until they were really slippery and wet...and…" Aoba whined, high-pitched and needy when those fingers curled and uncurled and the hand on his dick stroked nice and slow. "He'd play with…"

It was Desire's turn to moan. Come on, tell me more.

Tears slipped out of Aoba's closed eyes, and a strangled moan tore its way from his throat.

"He'd take his fingers out once I was ready and…b-begging...then he'd push in all the way...and…" Aoba voice trailed off, his eyes drifted open; they were glassy, teary, unfocused. His breath was a mess of wild pants, his face entirely red. "...He'd fuck me slowly and—and make me beg for him to go faster." In response to Aoba's words, the fingers toying with him picked up speed. Aoba writhed, his feet slipping against the bed, his entire body dripping with sweat. "...And he'd fuck me so hard I'd have to—I'd have to hold onto him, my—my arms around his ba—ahh—ack—" Aoba arched off the bed, his mouth falling open, drool slipping onto the sheets. "And he'd lick and bite my ear, tell me how g-good I feel and then we—we'd—Oh, God, Oh, God, Mink—"

With one last rough jab against his prostate, one last twist of fingers against his shaft, Aoba came so hard he couldn't breathe, his lips wide open, his eyes teary and almost shut. Cum sprayed against his chest—some even managed to hit his chin and neck, dribbling down.

In his mind, so close it sounded like he was right next to Aoba's ear, Desire moaned out Mink's name; the sound made Aoba cry out, twist in the sheets.

By the time his pleasure faded, and his fingers rested against the cooling cum on his stomach, Aoba was practically asleep. His chest rose with the force of his breaths, his eyes were so heavy they hurt to open. He would have been content to fall asleep like that, disgusting mess that he was, if the sound of the front door opening and closing hadn't jarred him fully awake.

He groaned: a weak, pitiful noise.

"...Not again."

Chapter Text

This was the longest weekend of Aoba's life.

Between Desire's incessant whining and sexual frustration, Aoba's ass-load of late homework, and the fact that no matter what he did he couldn't stop thinking about Mink for more than twelve seconds before his mind launched itself into yet another "fucking gross (Desire's words, not his)" daydream regardless of his consent, Aoba was more than relieved when Sunday night finally rolled around.

Until Ren decided to call, that is.

Aoba stared at his phone for a good ten seconds as it rang, his palm shaking just a bit, blurring the name on the screen. If he picked up, Ren would ask about his week. A lot had happened this week. Aoba couldn't lie to Ren.


Oh, come on, Desire scoffed. This is pathetic.

Aoba, with a deep sigh and an even deeper scowl courtesy of Desire, finally tapped the green answer button and pressed the phone to his ear.

He took a deep breath.


"Aoba." Ren's smile filled Aoba's thoughts; his chest felt heavy, like someone had replaced his lungs with rocks. "How are you?"

Aoba cringed. "I'm...good."

He could imagine Ren nodding. "I'm so glad to hear that." A small, short laugh. "I've been worrying about you all week."

Aoba's cringe deepened as he muttered an, "is that so?" through clenched teeth.

"Is he still talking to you? Have things gotten any worse?" Aoba's eyes widened. Could he possibly...?

Don't even think about it, Aoba.

"He..." Aoba sighed, his face falling. "No. He's gone."

You're a terrible liar.

"Really? That's great!" Ren breathed a sigh of relief; Aoba was shocked Ren believed him at all. "Do you know what made him leave?"

"...Nope. Not a clue."

"That's strange, isn't it?"

"Yep. Pretty weird."



"You sound a bit off. Are you getting sick?"

"...I...wouldn't be surprised."

Desire chuckled, his voice growing uncomfortably close. Hey, give me the phone for a second.

"No, wait, what are you—"


Aoba's mind, quite literally, was shoved aside—but during the moment of transition, the phone slipped out of Aoba's hand, tumbling to the floor, almost sliding under the bed. Desire picked it up with a smile.

"Aoba?! Aoba, are you oka—"

"Christ, calm down, dog-breath—I'm right here. The phone dropped." Desire yawned and lied back against the bed, phone firmly pressed to his ear. "Let me talk to Sei, will you?"

The line went silent.

"...If that's what you want."

"Yeah." A beat. "It is what I asked for."

Ren paused, then sighed, and the line went quiet once again. Soon, Desire could make out muffled speaking, coupled with a few mentions of Aoba's name. Within a second, another voice came on the phone, sounding slightly out-of-breath.


Desire grinned.

"Hey, bro. How've you been?"

"Uh, good—really good! A lot better, actually. And—and you? How's your new school?"

Desire grinned so hard his cheeks hurt.

"I've been great, Sei. School's been great." Internally, Aoba cringed."But we—I mean, I miss you."

"I miss you too!" Sei laughed. "It's—it's really great to talk to you, Aoba." Softly, he added: "I thought you were mad at me."

Desire's eyebrows lifted. "Me, mad? No, not at all."

Sei breathed a sigh of relief against the phone, almost blowing Desire's ear out in the process. He held the phone away from his face, cringing. "Good. That's really good."

Desire, with a deep breath, brought the phone back to his ear. Well, it was now or never.

"I'm sorry."



"Uh, yeah." Desire took another deep breath, and then another. This apologizing business was harder than it looked. "Sorry for getting you tied up in ou—my shit. I never meant for you to get hurt. So yeah. Sorry."

Sei was silent for a moment; both Aobas held their breath.

"...It's okay," Sei said after a quiet moment. "It's me who followed you, after all. I should be the one saying sorry."

Desire let out a snort, shook his head. That was just like Sei.

"I'm just glad you're okay. We—" Desire sighed. "I still feel like shit about it."

"Please don't!" Sei sputtered, his words coming out in a hurry. "I'm fine, really—just a couple scratches, that's all! And they're all healed now! I can even send you pictures!"

"...Three broken bones, a fracture, and a black eye are more than just scratches, Sei."

"Details." Desire could imagine Sei waving his hand—it brought a smile back to his face.

"I'm glad we're talking again, Sei," Desire said, his voice unusually somber. Soon, his eyes faded to from gold to hazel, and Aoba slid back into control. He blinked.

"Yeah, me too, Ao—"



Aoba bolted upright, his heart pounding, hands shaking.

"So you're really—you're really not mad at me?"


In that moment, it felt like a couple of the rocks in Aoba's chest were tossed away. He breathed out a sigh through a smile, then let out a small laugh.

"Okay. Just double checking."

The rest of their conversation consisted of idle chatter: what they'd both been up to for the past few months, Aoba's life at his new school (though he breezed over a good chunk of detail), and last but not least, Sei's recovery. Aoba twirled his hair between his fingers as they spoke, his words flowing faster and freer than they had in months.

"I should probably let you go, Aoba—you have school in the morning." Aoba glanced at the clock. Damn. It was already eleven. "Sorry for keeping you up so late."

"Tch. It's fine." Aoba smiled. "We had a lot to catch up on."

They quickly said their goodbyes, and Aoba told Sei to wish Ren goodnight, tell him he'd call him the second he had the chance. When they finally hung up, Aoba reached over to plug in his phone (three percent left, damn), then lied stomach-down on his bed. He was smiling so widely it hurt.

"I can't believe you did that, Desire," he said. "I thought I'd die before you ever apologized for anything."

I'm not that much of a dick, damn. Aoba could tell Desire was smirking. But you're welcome.

Aoba laughed. "Yeah. Thanks." He sighed, snuggling against his bed with a wide yawn. "I didn't realize how much I missed Sei. He and Ren should visit sometime."

I actually wouldn't mind seeing dog-breath. It's been a minute.

Aoba snorted. "Yeah."

It didn't take long for Aoba to space out after that, his mind immediately wandering to thoughts of Mink (at first he'd fought against them, but by now, he'd almost gotten used to it), when a nagging question sped through his head, shattering his fluffy daydream to pieces.



"Why did you do that? Ask for Sei?"

Am I not allowed to miss our brother?

"I are...but it just seems...weird." Aoba blinked. "Wait." A slow smile spread across his face. "Are you trying to get on my good side or something?"

Desire paused.

...I don't know what you're talking about.

World History class was a blur. Although Aoba took notes (and he wasn't quite paying attention; it was robotic), his mind was in Mink's car, his lips were on Mink's, Mink's hands were in his hair, and—

Aoba covered his face.

These daydreams were taking over his life.

As his hand slid down, he caught eyes with Mink, whose face was crinkled with amusement. His heart thudding, Aoba immediately forced his eyes to his desk, his pen to his notebook. But inside, his chest was warming in the strangest way.

It seemed like years, but then fourth period was over and students were filing out, Aoba right behind him. When Mink didn't say a single word as Aoba walked past his desk—and it had been two whole days, for Christ's sake—Aoba's mood plummeted straight to the ground. But then...


Aoba paused, one hand on the doorframe. His heart jumped in his chest, his face immediately felt warm, and—shit, why am I smiling?

"Y-Yeah?" He turned around slowly, giving himself ample time to wipe the goofy smile off his face—but not the blush. Never the blush.

Mink shoved a couple of papers into a briefcase, his face oddly relaxed, somehow making him seem even more handsome now that his usual frown lines had smoothed. Aoba gulped.

"Would you like a ride home?"

Thoughts of their not-quite-kiss were the first thing to pop into Aoba's mind, painting his cheeks even darker—he nodded before he had a chance to think it through.

"If...if it's not too much trouble." Oh God, Desire, Oh God, Oh God

Aoba, you're giving me a goddamn headache.

"It's no problem." Mink hauled his briefcase off his desk; it looked heavy from the way his arm drooped under its weight, the way his muscles rippled under his shirt. "You're on the way."

Aoba nodded, tried to calm the raging nest of butterflies in his stomach, and followed Mink out the classroom door. The entire time, his mind was speeding, his heart was pounding, and—Desire, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do—

Okay, first of all, you're going to shut the hell up. Aoba scowled. Now that I can think're going to invite him to stay for dinner.

For...dinner? Aoba blinked. But would he even...say yes?

There's only one way to find out. And don't you want to spend more time with him?

Well, yeah, but...

Aoba gulped, staring at Mink as he held the door open behind him, looked Aoba straight in the eye.

...I don't think I can do this.

Desire sighed. Do you want me to ask him?

No. No, no. I...I think I've got this.

This outta be good.

Aoba scowled once again as Desire's voice faded, and gnawed on his inner cheek. He could do this. It was simple. All he had to do was ask Mink to come in, stay for dinner.

...But he should probably get permission first.

Aoba reached into his pocket, fished out his phone, unlocked it, and scrolled through his contacts, his hands flying over his touchscreen with ease once he clicked Granny's contact. He was so engrossed in texting, however, he didn't notice that Mink had stopped walking, which, in turn, caused him to smack right against his back.

It took him a good minute to recover enough to speak.

"I am so sorry." He stared up at Mink, his eyes huge, but Mink only shook his head as he turned around, snorting out half a laugh.

"It's fine." His eyes crinkled at the corners.

Aoba, head hung in shame, slipped his phone away and scurried to the passenger side door, letting himself in once he heard it unlock. He hugged his backpack to his chest when he slipped in, not unlike their first ride together, and patiently waited for Mink to stow his briefcase away in the back before slipping in next to him.

An oddly comfortable silence fell over the two of them as they drove, and Aoba couldn't help the way his eyes drifted from the window to Mink's profile as the car sped on. His regal nose, his high cheekbones, his almond-shaped eyes...

"Your eyes are wandering again."

Aoba whipped his head forward, squeezing his backpack tighter.

"I-I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Mink chuckled, the sound warm, smooth, like dribbling honey—this didn't help Aoba's situation in the slightest. "But subtlety isn't your strongest suit."

"I'm…so sorry." Aoba slid down in his seat until his jacket's collar rose past the red tips of his ears.

Mink laughed again; Aoba slid down even farther.

"Stop apologizing."

"I-I can't help it."

"I know."

Silence fell over them again; Aoba could practically feel steam coming out of his ears.

"We're here."

Aoba jolted and looked out the window. Oh. So they were.

Aren't you forgetting something?

Aoba shut his eyes, his hand on the door handle, one arm wrapped tight around his backpack. His heart was about to explode.

"Would you…" He took a deep breath. "Would you like to come in, and—and stay for dinner?"

It took Mink an extended moment to respond, during which Aoba seriously considered making a break for it and never looking back. His request was so random, so spur-of-the-moment—of course Mink wouldn't say yes. Aoba felt like an idiot.


Oh my God.

"O-Okay." Aoba pushed the door open, stepped out on wobbly legs. Oh my God.

Nice one, Aoba. You did something right for once.

...You're lucky I'm in a good mood.

Desire laughed, his voice quickly fading into the corner of Aoba's mind, and Aoba looked back at Mink as the man stepped out of the car. His hair caught rays of sunlight, as did his eyes, making Aoba's throat go dry.

At that moment, Aoba's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, smiling when Granny's text said yes—but only if his friend was polite and helped them clean up. Aoba breathed a sigh of relief.

Mink came to stand next to Aoba, causing Aoba's heart to stop then stutter then flutter all over the place, and he began walking towards the door with legs made of jelly, Mink trailing closely behind.

When Aoba reached the door he swung his backpack around until it rested against his stomach, and searched for his key. For a moment, he thought he'd forgotten it and his anxiety picked up again—but then his hand closed around it, and he let out a staggered sigh.

"Granny should be home in forty-five minutes or so," Aoba said as he swung his backpack back onto his shoulder, jammed his key into the lock (more like tried to—his hand was shaking something fierce). Once he finally managed to get it unlocked (and it took a good moment), he pushed the door open, stepped inside, and held the door open for Mink.

He unconsciously held his breath as Mink stepped inside, his sharp eyes perusing the entryway. Aoba stepped from foot to foot, nibbling his lip, watching Mink closely. Soon Mink's eyes settled on him, and Aoba shut the door, slipped his shoes off, and stepped farther into the house.

"Would you like anything? Water, a snack?"

"I'm fine."

Aoba shrugged off his backpack in the living room, making a mental note to take it upstairs before Granny had a chance to nag him about it. Then he looked back to Mink.

It was odd, seeing his teacher standing in his living room like this, hands jammed in his pockets, eyes surveying the space. Aoba hoped he liked what he saw.

"Would you like to…" Aoba's eyes frantically searched the living room, finally settling on the little television set in the corner. "…Watch TV? I mean, Granny won't be home for a little while, so…"

I can think of a better way to pass the time.

No you can't.


Aoba gave a small smile then stepped over to the couch and sank into the cushions, Mink following suit. Aoba's arms wound around himself, and it was then he noticed that he was shaking.

With a small bite of his lip he grabbed the television remote off the corner table and pressed 'on,' hoping to God he could find something good to watch. He settled on some random movie, though it had already started, then set the remote back down.

"Uh, so…" Mink turned to him, face blank, and Aoba's thoughts scrambled. "G-Granny's cooking is really great."

Mink cocked one eyebrow; Desire chortled in the depths of Aoba's mind.

"I...really hope you'll like it." Aoba slid down the couch, once again hiding inside of his jacket. Could he be any more awkward? "I don't know what she's making tonight, but...yeah. It'll be good."

Mink chuckled, directing the blood straight to Aoba's cheeks.

"I'm sure it will."

Aoba let out a small breath."I hope so."

After that, Aoba tried his hardest to focus on the television, watch whatever movie he'd chosen; within a couple of minutes he began to worry that he'd been rude, choosing something without asking for Mink's input, but one glance at Mink's blank profile told him his fears were for nothing. Like Mink would care about the movie they watched.

Eventually, Aoba relaxed enough to sit up straight and shrug off his jacket, tossing it aside—but then, out of nowhere, Mink grabbed the side of his face, turned it, and stared straight into his eyes. Aoba actually squeaked.

"Your eyes…" Mink's face was so close, oh my God, oh my God— "They're hazel."

"..Y-...Yeah." Aoba swallowed hard. "They are."




Mink cracked a wry smile, his thumb stroking Aoba's cheek; Aoba began to tremble.

"The other you's eyes are golden. They remind me of death."

...Uh, thanks?


"Yes." Mink's eyebrows creased. "They're fierce. Like a warrior's."

Is he on drugs?


Mink snorted, shaking his head. "Just an observation."

Aoba tried his best to smile. "I like hearing you talk."

His smile twisted and fell. Oh God, Desire, I'm so bad at this—

Desire sighed—Aoba's hand, not in his control, cupped Mink's hand on his cheek. Their eyes stayed locked, and Aoba wasn't sure when or how, but then their faces began to drift closer, like they were drawn together by some sort of slow, insistent magnetic pull.

The closer their faces got, the cloudier Mink's eyes grew—he looked uncertain, like he, inside, was fighting a trying battle, one he had no hope of winning. But then, the expression in his eyes changed, he took a shaky breath, and his lips were on Aoba's.

Aoba couldn't breathe.

His eyes were wide and Mink's were closed; his lips were still while Mink's were active. Desire snorted and then Aoba's lips were moving for a moment, until Aoba slipped back into control, his eyes slid closed, and he began to move his lips by himself.

His hand over Mink's trembled something fierce, and then Mink's hand fell, taking Aoba's with it, until it rested on Aoba's thigh and Mink twined their fingers tightly together. His thumb brushed against the back of Aoba's hand, and somehow, someway, Aoba's shaking ceased.

Aoba could feel his heart in his throat and his stomach flipped—but not in a bad way. Not even close. Every time he managed to take a breath through his nose, he was drowned in Mink's scent: Mink's sweet, comforting scent. He could have stayed like this for hours.

I told you he likes you.

His lips forming a smile against Mink's and his heart leaping for joy, Aoba suddenly became more confident, more assertive, his mouth moving much more, pressing much harder. Aoba could hear Mink's hard exhale, feel the little gust against his face, and then Mink returned his kiss tenfold.

A moan slipped past Aoba's lips; his eyes flew open, and he was absolutely mortified, but then Mink's other hand found its way into his hair, his fingers lacing through it, holding Aoba's mouth tighter against his own, and Aoba couldn't keep his eyes open for a second more.

Another quiet moan found its way out when Aoba felt Mink's mouth open, his tongue swipe against his lips, and he, with quite a bit of shaky uncertainty, parted his lips, let Mink's tongue inside; his mouth was immediately filled with sweetness.

Mink's tongue was gentle as his lips paused, swiping against Aoba's inner cheek, his tongue, his teeth; Aoba whimpered, clutched Mink's hand tighter, tried his hardest to regulate his staggered breathing as he was thoroughly tasted. In a second Aoba's body moved on its own, climbing onto Mink's lap, their lips still pressed together, their tongues now twirling faster, sliding against one another, his arms wound tight around Mink's neck. As he settled in, his ass against Mink's groin, his eyes darted open, his pulse hammering when he realized their position—but they closed when Mink's hands slid down to the small of his back, pressing him flush against his chest, and Aoba whimpered so loudly the embarrassment made his cheeks burn.

In that moment, it was as if something snapped inside of Mink for suddenly their kiss was deeper, so deep Aoba felt like Mink might swallow him whole and all thoughts were wiped from his mind like an eraser on a chalkboard. He moaned Mink's name against his lips without thinking, and then Mink was kissing him so hard he couldn't get a breath, their lips crushed together, noses jammed against each other's cheeks, tongues sliding, loud and warm and wet and so good Aoba couldn't help but moan even louder.

Desire whispered something in the back of Aoba's mind, but Aoba didn't register the words—all he could register was the feeling of Mink, the smell of Mink, the taste of Mink and suddenly, he wanted much, much more.

As though Mink sensed his silent desire, their lips finally broke apart, a thin string of saliva still binding them together, broken a moment later. Aoba's eyes were heavy and low, as were Mink's, and both panted loudly, gazing at each other, Mink's hands still pressed against Aoba's back, crushing him against his chest.

"...More," Aoba whispered, his lips diving in once again, crashing against Mink's. Mink groaned, one hand on Aoba's back slipping just a little lower, until it rested against his ass, closely followed by the other, each giving a hard squeeze. Aoba cried out, mouth open against Mink's lips, and squirmed helplessly in his lap.

His tongue lapped against Mink's like he was starved, his ass grinding against Mink's groin, his thighs hugging Mink's legs, all sense of time and place shoved to the edge of his thoughts. He didn't care about anything anymore, no—all that mattered was Mink, and he wanted to be closer, so much closer, so close that they—

You know, I really do love this side of you, Aoba, but Granny's going to be home in about two minutes and you're in the living room dry-humping a man twice your age.

Aoba's eyes flew open.

He yanked his head back, panting, his face flushed, his eyelids low, his pupils blown all the way out. Mink was about the same.

"G...Granny," he managed after a moment of heavy breathing. Recognition crossed Mink's face, along with something else (disappointment?), and he nodded once.


Slowly (and very, very reluctantly), Aoba climbed off of Mink's lap, only to collapse against his side, his arm wrapping itself around his waist, his face nuzzling against Mink's chest. He took a deep breath, shuddering as Mink's smell only made him burn even hotter, and Mink's arm found its way around his shoulders, squeezing tight. Aoba was so happy he could have died.

And at that moment, the front door opened.

Chapter Text

At the sound of the door Aoba jumped to his feet, his eyes wide, his pulse racing, and smoothed down his rumpled shirt, his hands trembling terribly. He took a huge breath, then another, then another.

That was way too close.

"Aoba!" Granny called as she walked from the entryway into the living room. "You left the door unlocked again! And there are groceries in"

Her voice trailed off as her eyes rested on Mink who sat on the couch, legs and arms crossed, face as expressionless as ever—one would never imagine he'd just had his tongue crammed down Aoba's throat hardly three minutes before, not by the indifferent, almost cold demeanor he now possessed. Granny eyed him hard, then looked to Aoba—or his back, to be more specific.

"...And this is your..." She motioned to Mink, squinting just slightly. "...Friend?"

Aoba nodded quickly and turned just enough so Granny could see the side of his face, hoping to God he didn't look as frazzled as he felt; his heart still hadn't calmed down and neither had his nerves, apparently.

"W-Well..." Aoba nibbled his lip, shifted on his feet, played with his fingers.. "He's not really a...friend."

Suddenly, Mink stood, crossing the short distance between Granny and himself in three quick strides, his hand held out in front of him. Granny's eyes drifted from his outstretched palm all the way up to his face—in any other situation, Aoba would have laughed at the ridiculous difference in height.

"I'm his history teacher," he said, voice even and smooth, if not a little flat. "Call me Mink."

"...Is that so?" Granny, with a huff, clasped Mink's palm in her own and gave it a firm shake. "Call me Tae."

Her fingers dropping back to her side, she peeked around Mink at Aoba who still looked awkward as ever, wringing his hands, his eyes darting everywhere at once. Her gaze flickered between the two of them, her eyebrows drawing together just a bit.

"...Is there any particular reason you invited your teacher over for dinner, Aoba?"


"Uhm." Aoba ran a shaky hand through his hair. "He just—"

"I've been tutoring him after school and we decided to change locations."

Aoba blinked.

"...Yeah. That."

Granny paused; then she huffed with a shake of her head.

"Well, I don't mind either way, and if he's as strong as he looks he can help you unload the car." She maneuvered her way around the roadblock that was Mink, stepped closer to Aoba. "And Aoba, I do hope you're feeling alright—your face is all red."

And then, with a tiny chuckle, she disappeared into the kitchen.

Desire was in stitches.

Holy shit. Desire let loose a lively round of cackles; Aoba groaned aloud. That was priceless—completely fuckin' priceless. I love that woman, good God.

Aoba slapped his hands over his splotchy face, cringing something fierce. Mink let out a snort from behind him, which, of course, only made his face burn ten times worse.

This was a terrible idea...

While Aoba was busy drowning in embarrassment, Mink crept up behind him, one large hand coming up to run through his hair then rest against his neck. Aoba squeaked from the surprise and the ticklish feeling of Mink's fingers against his nape and jerked his head up, his eyes frightened and wide. But when his gaze settled in on Mink's face, he froze in place—never before had he seen Mink looked so unguarded, ease.

Aoba's chest was painfully tight.

"So, those groceries..." Mink's hand rubbed Aoba's neck gently, immediately easing some of Aoba's tension; his shoulders sagged, his eyes began to droop, and his heart finally started to slow. He pushed a lock of hair behind his ear, heaved a little sigh.


With a small grunt, Mink withdrew his hand, stepped away from Aoba, and headed towards the front door. Aoba, turning just slightly, watched his back until it disappeared, his mind drifting far away.

It took Desire restarting his feet to get Aoba moving again, but once he was, Desire slid back into the depths of his mind, chuckling quietly. Aoba's heart raced when he caught sight of Mink again once he was outside; the man was standing behind Granny's car in the driveway, two paper bags stuffed full of groceries balanced on each arm. Mink's eyes drifted to Aoba; Aoba immediately looked away.

"You don't have to take so many at once," he mumbled, coming up next to Mink. He stared into the trunk and blinked a few times. "...It's empty."

"I'm aware."

And then Mink headed back towards the house, arms brimming with groceries, muscles bulging under his shirt.

Aoba, stunned speechless (those bags were full), was left watching his back again, his eyes quickly glossing over, his mind drifting back to just a few minutes ago, to the feeling of Mink's lips, his hands, his chest…


"Ah!" Aoba jumped, eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights.

You are such a fucking girl. I'm almost embarrassed for you.

"Am not," Aoba muttered, swearing under his breath as he slammed the trunk shut.

Empty-handed thanks to Mink and his freakish strength, Aoba headed back inside, shutting the door behind him (and, by some miracle, he remembered to lock it). On shaky legs he made his way into the kitchen, where Mink stood adjacent to Granny, looking completely out of place with a box of cereal in one hand and a can of soup in the other. To say he looked lost would be a gross understatement.

"Need a little help?" It was Aoba's turn to smile as he stepped closer, taking the box of cereal from Mink's hand. He walked to the cupboard, opened it, and placed the cereal box inside; Mink followed suit with the can of soup, quickly finding its place on a lower shelf. As they quickly and efficiently unloaded the bags resting on the counters, Granny watched them both from the corner of her eye; her eyes were mostly on Mink, carefully tracking his every move.

After successfully unloading all of the groceries, Granny shooed them out of the kitchen, saying she needed space to cook (and Mink, apparently, took up too much). In keeping with Mink's excuse, Aoba suggested they head to the living room so he could work on his homework, and Mink agreed with a silent nod.

In retrospect, Aoba never should have expected to get much work done while Mink was around.

The entire time they sat on the couch, Aoba's body facing Mink, his legs tucked beneath him, and a binder in his lap, all he could think about was their kiss: how wonderful it felt, how spontaneous it was, how badly he wanted another one. To his surprise, he wasn't all that nervous anymore—he wasn't entirely at ease, but even compared to earlier this afternoon, he was gradually becoming more and more comfortable around Mink, and it seemed the same went for his teacher judging by the lack of his usual frown. The thought brought a little smile to Aoba's face.

He heaved a sigh as he finished up a math problem (even he could see his answer was incorrect, but fuck it all, he didn't care), circling his answer in pen, and finally looked up only to find Mink staring straight at him, one arm draped across the back of the couch. They locked gazes, Aoba's wide and surprised, Mink's languid and warm. Aoba's throat was soon so dry it hurt to swallow.

"Why are you looking at me?" he mumbled, sliding his binder off his lap and shifting position until his knees rested underneath his chin. He wrapped his arms around his legs, suddenly self-conscious—how long had Mink been looking at him, anyway?

"You're interesting to observe." Mink's lips twitched. "And it's only fair."

Aoba stared to the side, chewing on his lip. Well, Mink had a point.

Mink suddenly shifted forward; Aoba shifted back on instinct. Mink, with a small chuckle, brushed an errant strand of hair out of Aoba's face and tucked it behind his ear. Aoba held his breath.

"Do you want to work on history next?"

Aoba nodded dumbly.

Surprisingly enough, Aoba actually managed to focus when Mink began to explain that day's lesson all over again—for about a minute. After that minute was up, all he could hear was the smooth bass of Mink's voice; all he could pay attention to were the small, almost graceful movements of his lips; all he could focus on was the way his face became slightly more animated when he talked about a certain person, a certain time, a certain place.

"Why did you become a history teacher?"

Aoba didn't realize he'd thought the question until it was already asked. Mink paused his mini-lecture, one eyebrow raised, the book in his lap thumping closed.

"...It's a long story," he said finally, relaxing against the couch. He crossed his arms, eyed Aoba with a smirk. "Why do you ask?"

Aoba cleared his throat, nibbled his lip. "Just curious."

For a few moments, neither Aoba nor Mink said a word; but then, Mink took a big breath, his eyes slipped closed, and he began to speak.

"...History has interested me since I was a child. It started with my culture's history, then it branched off into the history of other cultures, and became a hobby of mine." Mink's eyes opened, glazed over as though he were somewhere far away. "The past is something I think of often."

It took Aoba a good minute to process all that Mink said, seeing as more than five words in one go was usually a stretch for him—even Desire was taken aback by how freely Mink had spoken.

... Whoa. Someone's chatty tonight.

"I think that's...really interesting," Aoba murmured once his mild shock faded away. "I'd love to hear more about it." His eyes darted to the couch cushions; he cleared his throat. Even without Desire in control, his mouth still seemed to betray him.

Mink, with the smallest lift of his lips, reached for Aoba's hand over the binder laying between them. Aoba's cheeks lit up as their fingers laced together, the feeling sending a spark across his skin, a shiver down his spine, and he looked up at Mink with a shy little smile of his own.

"Dinner's ready."

Aoba jerked, his eyes darting to Granny, blinking rapidly. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, one eyebrow cocked, her arms crossed tight across her chest.

"Bad timing?" she asked, her eyes boring into Mink, drifting down to their entwined hands. Mink's face had quickly lost all trace of emotion (though there wasn't much there to begin with).

"Not at all." Mink slowly withdrew his hand from Aoba's, and Aoba's hand immediately felt cold; the spaces between his fingers felt empty. Mink got to his feet slowly, his eyes on Aoba, and Aoba scrambled up as well.

Granny let out a sigh, shook her head, then turned on her heel and headed back into the kitchen. Aoba stared after her, looked to Mink, then back to the space where Granny had stood. The back of his neck dampened with sweat.

This was a really bad idea.

"...Do you think she...?"

Mink shrugged one shoulder, then sighed, giving Aoba a much softer look than the one he'd given Granny. If he was worried, his face didn't show it.

Desire snickered. Dinner should be interesting, eh, Aoba?

And interesting it was.

Although the food was great, as usual (and Granny had gone all out, that was for sure), Aoba could hardly taste a bite; he was too busy watching the silent exchange between Granny and Mink, every twitch of their cheeks, crinkle of their mouths. Barely any words were spoken during the entirety of dinner (and the silence was so thick Aoba was convinced he could have cut it with a knife), but by the time their plates were empty, their stomachs were full, and Mink was sliding his chair away from the table, Granny's gaze had noticeably softened.

"Thank you for the meal," Mink said, setting his dishes in the sink. Aoba followed soon after, doing the same, and turned the faucet on to rinse his hands and fill the sink to begin washing the dishes.

"It's no problem," Granny said, her eyes still on Mink's back. "But, you have to tell me: what's a man like you doing teaching at a high school? With a mug like that, you'd be better off leading a gang."

Aoba's eyes widened, his hands freezing mid-wring of a soaped-up sponge. He looked to Mink, half-expecting him to get angry, go off, lose it completely.

Mink snorted.

"Maybe in another lifetime," he muttered, stepping back to the table and picking up a crumb-filled plate, then handing it to Aoba who took it with shaking fingers. "But I'm content with things as they are."

It could have been Aoba's imagination, but those words felt like they were meant just for him.

He scrubbed at the dish Mink handed him so hard his wrist began to hurt, his face almost as red as when Granny first walked through the door.

"...I see." Granny sighed, arms crossed, leaning back in her chair. "And would Aoba have anything to do with this?"

Aoba dropped the dish in his hands into the water-filled sink, splashing his arms and face.

Mink, with a rough snort, crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. Granny's eyes were hard.

"If I say yes, will you throw me out?"

Granny heaved a sigh, her eyes slipping closed, her hands clasped on the table in front of her.

"...Aoba isn't a child anymore. He can make his own decisions." Her eyes opened. "But choosing his teacher, of all people. I'm worried for you."

"Don't be." Mink slowly uncrossed his arms, stepped to the table to gather up the last of the dishes. "This is my last year teaching."

Aoba's eyes widened as he set a sparkling dish into the dish drain to dry. He had no idea.

"...I see." Granny sighed again, then managed a wry little smile. "You're a good man, that much I can tell. A little cold, but I'm sure you have your reasons." Her eyes drifted to Aoba whose hands had paused; with a startled little jump, he grabbed another dish off the counter, began scrubbing it with haste. "I can tell he likes you a good bit. Take good care of him; I won't let you live it down if you don't."

Aoba's heart thundered in his ears.

"...You have my word."

Oh my God.

Aoba, calm down, deep breaths

No, Desire, oh my God. Granny just—the plate slipped from Aoba's hand, splashing into the water. Aoba looked shellshocked. Mink just

Desire sighed, then let out a little laugh.

He likes you, remember?

Aoba nodded.

But… He stole a peek at Mink. Why?

How the hell would I know?

Just then Mink came to stand beside Aoba, dipping his own hands into the soapy water; he stood so close Aoba could feel his body heat, smell his scent. It made his chest throb.

"Need any help?" he asked, eyeing Aoba with a knowing look, that same softness in his eyes Aoba was barely getting used to. Aoba, with a tentative smile and downcast gaze, nodded.

Behind them, Granny huffed, but the smallest smile of her own crept onto her face.

After helping clean up, Mink stated that he had work to do and needed to head home; Aoba, although a little disappointed, nodded and offered to walk Mink out to his car. Granny looked at them both and, with a small shake of her head, said she was glad to have met Mink. Mink said the same.

So now they stood outside the house, behind Mink's car parked on the curb, saying their goodbyes. Aoba's mind felt scrambled.

"So...uhm…" He bounced on the balls of his feet, hands jammed in his back pockets. His eyes were everywhere but on Mink. "A lot happened tonight, huh?" He cleared his throat.

Mink grunted, arms crossed, back against the closed trunk of his car. He stared at Aoba with an odd mixture of muted warmth and intense fascination, but, luckily, Aoba hadn't noticed it yet.

"Uhm…" Aoba cleared his throat again, finally looking to Mink. When they caught eyes, a shock so strong it felt like lightning shot through his core. "...What exactly...are...we?"

Mink stayed silent for a moment.

"...We don't know each other very well. I couldn't stand you until the end of last week. Just looking at you pissed me off." Aoba cringed, his stomach twisting, his gaze falling to the ground. "But now I know that wasn't your fault, and, somehow, I've grown fond of you."

Aoba's eyes, incredibly wide, shifted back to Mink's face.

"But I'm much older than you. I'm thirty-five and you're what, eighteen, nineteen?" Mink let out a sigh, his arms uncrossing and falling to his sides, his hands slipping into his pockets. "I don't want to hold you back. You should find someone your own age."

"N-No!" Aoba shook his head. "You wouldn't be holding me back—there's nobody else I like! I don't think I really can like anybody else—" Aoba's lips clamped shut; belatedly, red rushed across his cheeks. Mink chuckled softly with a small shake of his head.

"Is this what Desire wants, or what you want?"

"...Both." Aoba scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting low. "I mean, I probably never would have admitted it without Desire…but even if he wasn't in the picture, yeah, I'd want this." A sigh. "I'd"

Mink eyed him closely for an extended moment; Aoba continued looking at the ground, just waiting for Mink to find another reason to turn him down—but instead, all he felt were fingers against his chin, tilting his head up, and all he saw were softened golden eyes staring into his own. Though they weren't nearly as cold as Aoba was used to, they were still just as probing.

"Are you sure?"

Aoba blinked, his voice lost within that stare.

This is the part where you say yes, Aoba.

"Yes," Aoba squeaked. Mink's lips twitched and he pecked Aoba's forehead; Aoba's skin tingled where Mink's lips touched.

"There won't be any backing out of this," Mink murmured. "I don't take these things lightly."

"...I didn't think you would." Mink's words were muffled by the sound of rushing blood in Aoba's ears. "N-Neither do I."

Mink started to speak, pulling his head back, his mouth barely opening, then paused, letting out a little sigh.

"I'll hold you to that."

And then he bent down, his lips barely brushing against Aoba's, and Aoba's heart fluttered.

"Make sure to finish your homework tonight," Mink said once he pulled just a breath away. Aoba, in a daze, nodded.


Mink chuckled, then kissed Aoba again, just a little bit harder, his hand on Aoba's chin moving to cup his cheek, his thumb stroking softly, and his other hand resting against Aoba's waist. Aoba melted under his touch, his legs turning to jelly; he had to brace his arms against Mink's chest for support.

And then, much too soon, Mink pulled away.

With one last stroke of Aoba's cheek and another peck against his forehead, he pulled his hand back and pushed off the back of his car. Aoba, his own hand drifting to cup his the side of his face, stepped back onto the curb.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Mink said, stepping around the car to the driver's side. Aoba nodded as Mink unlocked his door, threw it open, and slipped inside. With one last look back at Aoba, Mink started his car and drove away.

Aoba stood on the curb for a good three minutes after Mink's car had disappeared around the bend, staring into empty space, a dreamy, far-off look on his face.

Hey, Aoba. Desire chuckled, lifted their hands, and slapped Aoba's cheeks a couple of times. Time to wake up.

Desire, I can't believe it.

Oh, Christ, here we go again.

Aoba scowled, flopping onto his bed.

And then, all at once, everything hit him.

Their first real kiss, Mink and Granny's conversation, a snippet into what went on in Mink's mind—and last but not least, their final conversation, and all the implications it held.

Desire. Aoba grabbed a pillow, crushed it to his chest. Oh my God, Desire, Mink and I

Yes, Aoba. You're now dating the ice prince himself; kudos to you. Aoba could imagine Desire's grin. Looks like we've managed to thaw him out just a bit, eh?

Aoba smiled wide, pressing the side of his face against his bedspread. "Looks like it," he muttered.

Now are you glad you invited him over for dinner?

Aoba nodded without a second thought.

"Yeah," he said. "Really, really glad." He paused. "It feels weird to say this, but...thank you, Desire. For your help tonight."

Hey, it's not just for your sake. Desire sounded defensive; Aoba smirked.

"You say that, but…" Aoba shook his head, snorted out a laugh. "Whatever. I don't care either way. I'm too happy right now."

Just watch out, Aoba.


He's your teacher. It's hot and all, don't get me wrong, but it'd suck if you got caught. So don't.

Aoba snorted. "And this is coming from you?"

Desire tsked. You're supposed to be the rational one, aren't you?

"...Well, yeah."

Then don't be a fuckin' idiot and get Mink fired.

"I didn't plan on it," Aoba muttered against his pillow. The idea of getting Mink in any sort of trouble dropped a crushing weight on his chest. "He's quitting after this year, anyway." I wonder why?

A lot could happen this year, you never know.

"...This conversation is weirding me out."

How do you think I feel? Hell, I've pretty much babysat you all day.

Aoba scowled, his eyebrows knitting together (though the look on his face was more of a pout than anything else).

"No one asked you to help."

But if I hadn't, you'd still be pathetically pining for him. Face ityou needed my help. He snickered. Really, Aoba, what would you do without me?

"...Point taken."

Aoba could hear Desire's grin in his laugh, but he didn't mind—he really was grateful for what Desire had done for him. His smile grew once more and he hugged his pillow a little tighter, his eyes drifting to his nightstand, to the thermos he still kept there, to the little tub of cream.

...Maybe having Desire around wasn't that bad after all.

Chapter Text

Today marked day four of Mink and Aoba officially dating.

As opposed to just over a week before, Aoba looked forward to fourth period more than any other on his schedule. His grade was starting to rise thanks to Desire allowing him to concentrate (though he had to yank himself back from Mink-fueled daydreams every once in a while), and Aoba couldn't have been happier—well, except for one thing.

After their heated make-out session at Granny's, Mink hadn't touched him aside from innocent kisses whenever they were alone, fingers running through his hair, and lingering hugs. Granted, they were both busy—Mink with grading papers and keeping classes running, Aoba with bringing his grades back up and his life as a student—but Mink still took him home everyday, kissed him softly, and told him to have a good evening.

But to say Aoba was sexually frustrated would be a complete understatement.

Just tell him, Desire said as Aoba packed up his bag after third period. He obviously wants to fuck you. That blowjob and what happened earlier this week at Granny's just proves it.

With reddened cheeks Aoba shoved the last of his notebooks into his bag, and heaved a little sigh.

But we're both busy, and just...I don't want to push him or anything.

Push him? Desire laughed. Aoba, I'm sure he wants to rip your clothes off just as much as you want him to. I mean, who wouldn't?

...You're cocky, you know that?

And for good reason. Desire was obviously grinning. But nothing's ever going to happen unless you take the initiative and jump him.

Aoba swung his backpack over his shoulder and stepped towards the classroom door; as always, he was the last to leave.

...I can't do that, Desire. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he stepped into the hallway. It's just...too embarrassing.

You always say shit like that, but when it comes down to it you're almost as slutty as me, moaning and begging and crying and pleading. Suddenly, Desire's voice was closer, right in Aoba's ear, pitched low and breathy. I know how bad you want it, Aoba.

Aoba shivered despite himself. You're in my head, of course you do. He frowned. And I'm not a slut.

Well, obviously. We haven't even gone all the way with a guy before, and when's the last time we fucked a girl? Che, I can't even remember, that's how long it's been.

Shut up, Aoba thought, cheeks aflame. But somehow, Desire's words had managed to kindle a fire deep inside his gut and with each step he took it seemed to grow hotter, more insistent, more difficult to ignore. He let out a shaky sigh as he headed towards the cafeteria, hoping idle conversation with his not-quite-friends would help chase these thoughts away.

And then, quite suddenly, his feet changed directions.

"What the hell?" Aoba grumbled, his feet and legs stiff as boards, moving robotically away from where he was headed. "The lunchroom is that way."

I know.

Aoba, confused as all hell, stopped trying to fight against Desire and instead allowed himself to be lead to the boy's restroom, only voicing his confusion again once they were inside.

He blinked a couple of times as they leaned against the wall, his backpack falling off of his shoulder and onto the ground. There was no one else inside; everyone in this hallway had lunch this period, meaning this entire area was eerily vacant.

"...Okay, what?"

You really want to go eat lunch right now? Aoba's hands, not under his control, suddenly gripped his thighs, nails digging in. We can have a lot of fun in thirty minutes.

"Desire!" Aoba sputtered, his face going red, voice rising in pitch. He trembled as his hands drifted higher, barely ghosting over his crotch, and squeezed his eyes shut. "We're at school!"

And your point is?

"You're shameless," he gritted, shivering as his cold hands slipped under his shirt, dragged up his stomach, his chest. "What if someone walks in?"

A little danger makes everything more fun.

Aoba groaned through his bitten lip as Desire tugged at his nipples, making his knees shake, his face burn. His eyes drifted open.

"Let's at least...go in a stall."

Desire chuckled. I knew you couldn't say no.

And then their feet were moving, propelling Aoba (who, against his better judgment, felt excitement budding the longer he thought about what was about to happen), to the biggest stall at the end. Aoba opened the door, his fingers trembling regardless of Desire's control, and slid the lock into place.

"So, what now?" Aoba's heart thumped as they stepped towards the toilet, kicking down the seat then sitting on top. Aoba's legs spread wide, his fingers coming to unbutton the clasp of his jeans, pull down the zipper. His cock had already begun to swell just from anticipation alone, and Desire snickered.

Just sit back and relax, Aoba. Desire squeezed Aoba's groin; Aoba let out a whimper. And let me make us feel good.

Aoba's head drooped and he gnawed at his lip, his hand kneading hard, making his legs shake. He let out a rough pant as his other hand slipped under his shirt yet again, toying with his nipple, pinching it so hard his hips jerked.


Don't be too loud, now, Desire chuckled, squeezing the outline of Aoba's cock hard through his boxers and giving it a jerk. Aoba whimpered again. I don't care if we get caught, but knowing you, you'll bitch about it for days.

"Sh-Shut up." Aoba groaned as quietly as he could, let out a slow breath through his nose. His vision was already beginning to blur; his groin was already beginning to throb. "Just do it quick."

You always say that. Another hard squeeze, followed by a chuckle. But making you like this is way too much fun.

Desire slid his hand up-and-down Aoba's erection, dampening his boxers with pre-cum, dragging the material along his length and scrambling Aoba's mind. He focused on the tip for a moment, making Aoba's feet scrape against the ground, his cock twitch, then dragged his hand down again, wetting the material even further. Aoba shivered, but not from disgust; the feeling of the soft fabric against his cock was a wonderful sensation.

He had to bite his tongue to stifle a moan that would have been much too loud when Desire's hand suddenly dove inside, grasping his hot cock with a firm grip. Aoba clenched his teeth, his eyes shut tight when his thumb and forefinger squeezed the head, making pre-cum leak down his shaft. He shivered.

Leaning back against the toilet's tank, Aoba spread his legs a little wider, thrusted against his hand a little harder. Even without Desire prompting him, his mind began to drift to thoughts of Mink, mentally replacing his own hand with that of his teacher—no, his boyfriend. He let out a little moan, his entire body burning.

And then footsteps drifted into the bathroom, forcing Aoba's eyes open without a second's hesitation. His heart leapt into his throat.

Desire, stop it, someone's in

His head tilted back, his mouth opened wide, and he barely managed to keep quiet when his other hand slid into his boxers and two fingers pressed against his hole. They didn't go inside, but the pressure alone was enough to make Aoba feel weak.

"Hey, someone left their backpack in here," a voice said. Thankfully, Desire allowed Aoba to yank his legs up and rest his feet against the toilet seat; but, of course, his hands kept moving, and Desire kept whispering in his ears.

Just imagine if they caught you like this, legs spread, playing with yourself… Would you like that? Aoba shuddered, shaking his head, his lip caught firmly between his teeth.

"Eh, leave it," someone else said, catching Aoba's attention once more. And then Aoba couldn't focus on anything but the fingers massaging his hole, rubbing his taint, his balls, and the hand twisting up-and-down, all around his slippery cock.

You're so wet for me, Aoba.

"Desire…" He clamped his lips shut at the last moment, thankful that the people in the restroom seemed to be too engrossed in their own conversation to hear him; but at the mention of his name Desire's hands gripped harder, moved faster, and Aoba was on the verge of moaning much, much too loudly.

Out of nowhere one hand was yanked out of his boxers and his shirt was lifted, bunched up, and shoved into his mouth. Aoba bit down, nearly gagging at the taste of fabric, but then his hand returned to its station, stroking his cock with ease, and his eyes slipped shut.

He didn't know when he was alone again, but at some point the bathroom was empty and he was moaning, his shirt barely drowning out the sound, his eyebrows bunched together, cheeks flushed red, both his hands teasing him into hazy oblivion. He panted out Mink's name against his shirt, but then someone else's face was behind his eyelids, someone else's hands were teasing him, and his whole body jerked.

His feet fell onto the ground with a loud thud, his body stretching out, his back arching, his shirt almost falling out of his mouth until he bit down again. He tossed his head to the side, Desire's name leaving his mouth in little, muffled pants as his hands worked harder, faster, and then he was confused, so confused when his own face flitted behind his eyes again, but it wasn't his face, it really wasn't, and then it was Mink's face, and then it was his, and then he—

Cum for me, Aoba, Desire whispered in his ears. Come on, let it all out. Desire's grin flashed behind Aoba's eyelids and he moaned, his eyes cracking open, his chest rising and falling so fast he was nearly hyperventilating. Mink's face flashed into his vision, closely followed by Desire's, and then his eyes popped open and his back lifted away from the seat, his cock jerked against his palm, his shirt fell from his mouth, his fingers pressed harder against his twitching hole, and he came with a jumbled whisper of both their names.

At the last second Desire cupped the tip, causing most of his cum to spray against his hand as opposed to his shirt, though some still dribbled down, staining his jeans. Aoba panted loudly, scrambling to catch his breath, but then he jerked up straight, removed both hands from his pants, and humiliation crashed over him like a wave.

He just jerked off at school. Loudly.

"Goddamn it, Desire!"

He looked at his soiled hand in disgust while Desire laughed, then managed to grab a wad of toilet paper after a moment of messing with the cheap dispenser. With a groan, he mopped the mess off his hands and jeans then stood, kicked the toilet seat up, and threw the disgusting lump into the toilet.

"Sometimes I think you're trying to ruin my reputation," Aoba grumbled as he flushed the toilet with his foot, grimacing as he watched the paper swirl inside the bowl. When it disappeared he sighed, then lowered his leg, turned around, unlocked the stall door, and pushed it open.

It's not my fault I make you feel so good you can't keep quiet. Aoba's face was so red it hurt. And I have to say, hearing you moan my name when you came was a nice surprise.

"Don't get used to it," Aoba muttered under his breath, turning on the faucet and rinsing his hands. Why did he say his name? Aoba couldn't fathom why.

Desire chuckled. What, do you have a crush on me now?

"O-Of course not!" Aoba's eyes jerked to his reflection in the mirror; but it wasn't him. That grin was too wide, those eyes were too bright, and the way he licked his lips was definitely not his doing.

"I'm not complaining," his reflection said, their hands dragging down to Aoba's hips. "I think the three of us could have a lot of fun together, don't you agree?"

Then Aoba's eyes faded and he gritted his teeth, yanking his hands away from his hips as though he'd been burned.

"In your dreams," he muttered, shutting off the faucet and shaking his hands dry.

Don't you mean yours?

At that moment the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch, and Aoba grimaced, his stomach gurgling loudly, then closed his eyes with a sigh.

I missed lunch thanks to you.

But wasn't it worth it?

Aoba, with a groan, buckled his pants and looked at his reflection once again. His eyes flashed gold and his heart thumped, but he shook his head, then headed for the door.

"I have Mink now," he muttered, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

And you think you can just push me aside? Aoba's feet paused, his body locking up and his back slamming against the bathroom wall. He grimaced as blinding pain pulsed through his temple, shot through his skull, and let out a weak little moan, his entire body stiff, frozen, completely immobile. I won't let you forget about me again, Aoba. Desire's voice was dark.

"...I'm not...forgetting about you." Aoba's body shook, his head throbbing, his voice strangled and quiet. Never before had his head hurt this badly; never before had his chest and throat felt this tight, like he couldn't take a single breath, like there were hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing the life out of him. His legs buckled.

And then the pain receded.

He gasped as he crumbled onto the ground, tears slipping out of his eyes, his body still shaking from the shock of it all. He listened for Desire as he gasped, trying to regain his breath, but after a few moments of mental silence coupled with the sound of students filtering out into the hallway, he determined him to be gone. Aoba sniffled and wiped at his eyes, then gathered himself up, peeked in the mirror (and he didn't look too bad, luckily enough), and stepped into the hall, his hands tight and trembling on the straps of his backpack.

He could hardly pay attention to where he was going as he walked—he was too distracted, too thrown-off by Desire's sudden outburst. Aoba wasn't going to forget about him—he never really had, to be honest, no matter how much time had passed in silence—and he couldn't understand why Desire would be so…worried. He was stuck with him; Desire had made sure of that.

Aoba clutched at his head, squinted his eyes. It didn't make sense.

When he finally slipped into Mink's classroom (almost three minutes late, thanks to Desire), Mink eyed him, but didn't say a word. Aoba could almost feel his classmates' jealousy as he slipped into his seat without a single word of warning, but he soon brushed it off, content to flip open his notebook, grab his pen, and get lost in the soothing sound of Mink's voice.

And, of course, it didn't take long for Aoba's worries to melt away.

By the end of his class, he'd almost completely forgotten about Desire's odd behavior, much too distracted by thoughts of Mink to entertain thoughts of anything else. He waited patiently at his desk once class came to a close, his head on his hands, his eyes glossing over as he stared at Mink while he packed up, a small sigh on his lips. After this afternoon, he figured he'd be at least partially sated, but it seemed that wasn't the case. That wasn't the case at all.

He wanted Mink so badly it hurt.

As though he heard Aoba's thoughts, Mink's eyes drifted up, one eyebrow raised. Aoba's eyes stayed on him, and he could only hope his face said what his lips couldn't: I want you. But apparently it didn't, because then Mink's eyes fell back to his desk, and he finished packing up his briefcase with a small grunt.

Wordlessly, Aoba followed Mink out of the room and to his car, his feet dragging the entire time. Desire was still quiet, buried deep in the depths of Aoba's mind, but Aoba barely noted this—until about five minutes into the oddly silent drive home, when his head throbbed again, his joints locked up, and all he could manage was a weak little groan before he was shoved to the back of his own mind.

Desire stretched his arms above his head, popped his joints, then turned to Mink with a devious smirk. Mink sighed, his eyes never leaving the road, but his expression fell just a fraction.

"What do you want?"

Desire lowered his arms, his smirk quickly replaced by a frown. He propped his legs up on the dashboard, then sank back into the seat, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Aoba wants to fuck, and he's too much of a wimp to say it himself. Don't shoot the messenger, alright?" Desire grinned when Mink tensed up, his hands on the steering wheel gripping tighter. "Ooh, what's that? A reaction?"

"Give him back." Mink leaned back just slightly when they pulled up to a red light, but didn't so much as look at Desire. "You aren't welcome here."

Desire's expression instantly became dark.

"Don't tell me what to do, old man," he hissed, his legs dropping from the dashboard, his entire body tensing up, curling like he was ready to fight. "Keep saying shit like that I might never give him back. How about that?"

Finally, Mink looked at Desire, his eyes narrow, cold. Desire's skin tingled from the sheer fury in his gaze, the obvious hostility he didn't even try to hide. Desire's lips turned up into a grin laced with malice.

"Maybe I'll keep him under lock and key until he goes completely insane, begging to be let out," Desire spat, inching closer to Mink, slamming his hands against his seat, his eyes almost as wide as his grin. "He'd bitch and cry but nobody would be able to hear him, nobody would be able to save him—not even you."

From the way Mink's jaw tensed, his eyes widened, and his hands on the steering wheel twitched, Desire knew he wanted to hit him. Too bad he couldn't harm his precious Aoba—now that would have been fun.

"Nice to see you show some emotion, teach," Desire said with a sardonic chuckle. The car lurched forward and Desire slammed back against his seat, swearing loudly as the they took off much faster than before once the light was green. He stared at Mink with a bewildered expression, but then the car jerked to the side, pulled into a parking lot, and rocked to a sudden stop. Desire's eyes were wide.

Without any warning, Mink grabbed Desire's jaw, yanked his head so they were eye-to-eye, gold against gold. His face was so close Desire could smell his scent, see each individual fleck of gold in his hard, slanted eyes.

"Give. Him. Back." Mink's fingers tightened their grip with every word to the point where they hurt, squeezing Desire's jaw so hard he winced—but he didn't back down, didn't drop his gaze, didn't show any sign of fear. In the back of their mind Aoba yelled at him to stop, to let him back in control, but Desire shoved him down with every ounce of strength he had. When Aoba finally went silent, Desire smirked.

"Like I said, I wanna take control for a while," he said, his smirk quickly blowing out into a full-on grin. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

He was lying, of course—Aoba was the main inhabitant of this body by some cruel twist of fate, but that didn't mean he couldn't fuck with Mink's head; and, by the looks of it, by the desperation shining through Mink's eyes, through every tensed up muscle in his face, he was doing a damn good job of it.

Mink dropped Desire's chin with a look Desire couldn't read, turning back to the steering wheel and starting the car once again. Desire rubbed at his chin (and he knew it was going to bruise, damn it all) and eyed Mink with barely-hidden confusion. His eyes roved over his face, trying to see how hard his words had hit him, what Mink was thinking, but he drew a blank. Mink's face was expressionless as a stone.

Desire, please stop— Desire scowled; Aoba was stronger than he gave him credit for. Just let me back in controlMink's really angry!

No shit, Sherlock. That's the fucking point.

You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Desire.

Desire's head jerked to Mink, his eyes widening at the unfamiliar sensation of losing control. He felt his head began to hurt, and then he couldn't help but grin; looks like Aoba had learned a trick or two.

Go back to sleep, Aoba, he thought, chuckling to himself, shoving Aoba's consciousness down once again. And then, Aoba was quiet.

In a moment they pulled into Mink's driveway; Desire lifted one eyebrow, his eyes roving all around.

"...The fuck?"

Without a word, Mink got out, slamming his door so loudly the entire car rattled. Desire winced at the noise, but then his door was thrown open and a very large, very strong hand was tugging him out of the car. He swore as the seat belt dug into neck, and barely had a moment to unbuckle it before he was yanked out of his seat, Mink's fingers tight on his forearm, and dragged towards the house, almost tripping over his feet as he struggled to keep up with Mink's wide, quick strides. His heart began to pound; the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. This was a very bad situation.

But there was no way in hell he'd back down.

"Let go, you fucking prick," Desire hissed, yanking his arm back and rubbing the sore spot when Mink shoved his key into the door. Mink didn't spare him a glance, only threw the door open and shoved Desire inside without a thought for his comfort. Desire cursed as he was manhandled yet again, barely resisting the urge to throw a punch at Mink as the man shut the door behind them.


What the hell?

With a smile he curled his fist and aimed straight for Mink's jaw, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his fist made contact with hard bone. Mink barely flinched, only grunted as Desire's fist fell; then he grabbed both of Desire's wrists, squeezing so hard Desire cried out, and threw him onto the ground. Desire's head slammed back against the floor, making his teeth knock together, his vision go spotty, his ears ring. With shaky arms he braced himself, tried to get up, but Mink's boot-clad foot landed against his chest, forcing him back down with an ungraceful grunt. Desire swore violently, clawing at the ground.

"You're going to give him back," Mink said, voice so cold and eyes so dead they sent shivers down Desire's spine, "whether you like it or not."

Desire growled, his lip curling into a snarl, but then Mink's foot was gone and he was pacing through the house, ripping things apart, looking for something so desperately Desire could do nothing more than watch as the spot where he'd hit his head began to ache. He rubbed at it, cursing under his breath, and then Mink returned to the living room, kneeled, and grabbed Desire's bangs.

Desire cried out as his head was forced back against the ground and his hair was pulled; his vision once again filled with black spots, his head spun so badly he wanted to puke, and he didn't even have the strength to resist when his mouth was forced open and something was placed against his lips, tipped back, and liquid flowed into his mouth.

He sputtered, his eyes growing wide, still partially blind, but then Mink's hand slammed against his mouth and nose, Desire couldn't breathe, and he was forced to swallow the burning, bitter liquid; it seared his throat as he swallowed, making his eyes water worse than they already were.

And that's when the pain really began.

Mink's hand withdrew and then Desire was screaming, clawing at his hair, his face, curling into a ball on the ground only to scream even louder, tears flowing from his eyes and dribbling onto the ground. It felt like someone was playing tug-of-war with his mind, his soul, like it was spreading apart, splitting in two, straight down the middle, and all he could do was cry and yell and convulse as slowly, so slowly it was agonizing, his eyes faded to hazel.

Aoba twitched as his consciousness, slow as molasses, trickled into the forefront of his mind, his eyes still blurry with Desire's tears, his head still throbbing from Desire's injury. Mink, with a slow, almost melancholy sigh, tilted Aoba's chin, stared into his eyes. Aoba blinked slowly.

And then, with a feeling so suffocating it felt like drowning, he realized, with no degree of uncertainty, that Desire was gone.

And his mind was entirely his.

Chapter Text

Desire was gone.

Aoba could tell as much from how light he felt, from how the only thing echoing back to him inside his head were his own thoughts. Even when Granny's medication had quieted Desire's voice, Aoba always knew deep down that he was still there; he could feel him, like a silent presence in the back of his mind, constant, yet quiet. But now, no matter how hard he searched his thoughts, no matter where his mind went, how deep he dove inside himself, he couldn't find Desire. He couldn't sense a shred of him left. No snide comments, no involuntary thoughts, no foreign force controlling his body.

For a few moments, all he could do was sit on the ground, cradling his face in stunned silence.

Desire was gone.

"Seragaki…" Aoba flinched when Mink's fingers grasped his chin again, tilted his head up. His eyes were warm once more. "The demon is gone."

Aoba's chest burned.

"He-He's not—" Aoba's voice broke; there was a lump in his throat the size of a softball, and talking through it was harder than he ever knew. He gritted his teeth, squinted his watery eyes. "He's not a demon."

Mink's eyebrows knitted together, his face taking on confusion, then his own muted version of worry. They stared at each other for quite a few minutes, Aoba's eyes watering until tears finally slid down his cheeks and little hiccups escaped his throat, Mink's face gradually creasing with more and more worry as time stretched on.

"...You said you wanted him gone." Mink's voice was low, flat. He removed his fingers; they soon curled into a fist, resting against his knee as he squatted.

Aoba blinked quickly, tears falling off his lashes and plopping onto his lap. He had said that, hadn't he?

"But we…" He sniffled hard, wiped at his eyes. "He was...he was part of me, Mink." Aoba shook his head, crammed the heels of his palms against his eyes. He was in shock. "What am I supposed to do now?" He cried harder, trying his best to stay silent but failing when all that did was make him gasp from the force of his barely-contained sobs, the crushing pressure on his chest. Mink grunted, and Aoba saw his blurry form stand through the cracks in his fingers.

The air grew chilly.

"I'm taking you home."

Aoba's hands dropped onto his lap, curling into fists. He gritted his teeth, the ball of emotions inside him twisting and churning until it morphed into nothing but anger—desperate, crushing anger. He wobbled his way to his feet, cringing at the pain that sprouted in the back of his head when he moved too quickly.

"I didn't ask for your help!" he shouted, his fists shaking. Mink eyed him coldly, no expression on his face, none at all. This only made Aoba's anger flare worse. "He was my only friend, you know that?! I don't have anyone here—no one at all!" He paused for a moment, unable to speak through the emotion clogging his throat. He gasped, clutching at his chest. "He was my friend…" The realization was like a shot right to the heart.

"Some friend he was," Mink snorted, then stepped into the other room, leaving Aoba standing, sniveling in a puddle of his own tears and snot. But soon Mink returned, a wad of tissues in one hand, his other lightly grasping Aoba's cheek, and began to clean Aoba's face gently, with care that was startling in contrast to the way he'd just treated Desire. At first, Aoba shrunk back, his eyes hard, his posture rigid, but soon he couldn't help but melt into Mink's arms, blubbering against his chest. Never before had he felt so empty, so incredibly alone. He clutched at Mink's shirt as he sobbed, his shoulders shaking, and Mink's fingers ran through his hair, massaged the swelling at the base of his skull, rested against his back. Eventually, Aoba's tears dried, and all that was left was numbness. He asked to go home.

But once he was home, the silence was even more deafening.

He sighed heavily, reaching for his phone as he lied on his bed, scrolling through his contacts. His finger hovered over Ren's name, but then, with yet another sigh, he dropped his phone onto his chest. There was no one he could talk to about this. There was no one he wanted to talk to about this.

Turning onto his side, his phone falling away, and clutching his pillow to his chest, tears once again sprung to his eyes. He sniffled as hard as he could, tried to fight them off, but no matter what he did, they kept on coming. He tried to reason with himself, tell himself that he was better off without Desire: Desire was a nuisance, Desire had humiliated him, Desire was never supposed to exist. But the harder he thought, the more he came to realize that Desire really was a part of him, that Desire had tried to help him, and without Desire resting in the back of his mind, he felt so light and empty it was terrifying.

He skipped dinner that night. Granny didn't ask questions.

The next morning, Saturday, of all days, he stayed in bed until well past noon. At this point, Granny came in with a knock, her face creased with worry, her normally abrasive voice surprisingly soft. Aoba said he wasn't feeling well, was probably getting sick, and this quieted her questions for a couple of hours. His mind seemed like a mill of excuses as the day progressed.

He stayed like this, a shell of himself, for the entire weekend.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, Aoba was convinced he actually was getting sick by the weight on his chest, the fog weighing down his thoughts, the constant tickle in the back of his throat. Granny, at this point, was terribly worried—Aoba would barely eat, would barely sleep (except for during the day—he could sleep for hours on end once the sun was up), and no matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise, he wasn't okay. He wasn't okay at all. And he regretted every single time he said he wanted Desire gone; he regretted it so much his heart ached.

But it was all his fault.

He clutched at his covers as he sniffled once again. Granny had let him stay home from school for the day, seeing as there were huge bags under his eyes, his voice was hoarse, and he could hardly eat. He was glad to be alone, although now that he was actually alone with nothing but his own thoughts for company, he found he didn't like it. His mind felt hollow without another presence lurking inside. He was completely drained.

So, when the doorbell rang, Aoba was more than content to ignore it.

He thought it worked for a moment and his eyes slipped closed, sleep tugging at the edges of his mind, but then it rang again, and again, and again, until there was hardly a pause between the incessant buzzes of the bell, and he gritted his teeth, kicked his blankets away, and tugged on a shirt.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he grumbled as he stumbled his way down the stairs, squinting at the natural light drifting in from outside (he'd gotten used to drawn blinds, heavy covers, and dark spaces over the course of the weekend). "I'm coming!"

And then, with a scowl a mile wide, he threw the door open; and his heart stopped cold.

There, standing in front of him, was the mirror image of himself.

Aoba blinked.

...Well, almost.

The boy standing in front of him was dirty from head-to-toe, and the scowl on his face mimicked Aoba's in its severity. His blue hair was matted and stuck up at odd angles with a few leaves twisted throughout, his eyes were bright gold under the layer of dirt and filth encasing his skin, and his clothes were torn and looked oddly like something Aoba used to wear; but then, his lips pulled up into a grin, showing off a set of surprisingly white teeth, and Aoba couldn't remember how to breathe.

His hand on the knob trembled terribly.

"Yo," Desire said with a wave of his hand. "Long time no see."

Aoba was completely frozen; Desire's expression drooped.

"Oookay, not the homecoming I was expecting, but whatever." With a shrug, he pushed past Aoba and stepped inside. Aoba's wide eyes followed his every move. "Is Granny home? I'm fuckin' starving."

Aoba blinked again.


Desire's bright eyes flitted to Aoba.

"Oh, so you can talk. For a second there I was worried that whatever Mink crammed down our throat made you mute or something." Then Desire grinned again, drifting just a couple steps closer to Aoba. "You look like shit." He sniffed. "You smell like shit. Did you really miss me that much?" His golden eyes held a teasing glint, one that made Aoba's heart pick up speed, his cheeks burst into flames.

"O-Of course not!" he stuttered through the blood rushing in his ears, the bewildered happiness blossoming in his chest, clawing through the fog that had settled in over the past few days. "I just—how the hell did you—"

Desire shrugged, his hands crammed in his tattered jacket pockets.

"I woke up in a park a couple of miles away, I don't fuckin' know." His face twisted with disgust. "Why don't you ask him?  Obviously he's into some voodoo-type shit if he knows how to kick out—" Desire's hands raised, making air quotes, "—"demons" or whatever. I heard what he said. Don't know how," he muttered, his hands falling back to his sides, "but I did."

Aoba shook his head, finally closing the door. This was insane—completely and utterly insane. He was hallucinating. That was the only explanation.

"...I'm going back to bed," he muttered, his voice quiet, detached, defeated. And then he turned around and headed for the stairs; Desire, with a loud snort and a roll of his eyes, grabbed his shoulders and yanked him to his chest.

"Don't be like that, Aoba," he whispered against his ear; Aoba, despite his total confusion, shuddered violently. Desire's smirk pressed against the side of his face. "I just got home. We have a lot of catching up to do."

Aoba's body was as limp as a doll's, and Desire, with a snicker, turned him around, grabbed his shirt, and kissed him hard.

Aoba's eyes bulged.

After a few moments of Desire's lips against Aoba's frozen, unresponsive mouth, Desire gave up with a click of his tongue, a small grimace on his face.

"Oh, God, fuckin' morning breath." He swallowed hard, releasing his hold on Aoba's shirt; Aoba stumbled back a couple of steps, his cheeks red, his heart beating like crazy. "I probably should've waited until you brushed your teeth to do that."

Aoba blinked, suddenly very, very awake.

"Desire, what the fuck."

Desire grinned.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Aoba shook his head, clutching the sides of his face, his thoughts running a mile a minute. Desire was back. Desire was back. Desire was back and had his own body. Desire was back and had his own body and kissed Aoba.

Aoba was beyond confused.

"Desire, what the fuck."

Desire shrugged again, raising his hands above his head with a wide yawn, his joints popping. "Like I said, I have no fuckin' clue—but I'm back, and I can do whatever the hell I want." His arms dropped, a grin spreading across his face. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"I mean, yes, of course I am, but just—" Aoba took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head. "Desire, I'm goddamn confused."

"How do you think I feel?" Desire scoffed, jamming his hands back into his torn jacket pockets. "There I was, convinced I was on the verge of death thanks to your psycho boyfriend, and next thing I know I'm lying on the ground in the fuckin' park, birds peckin' at me like a goddamn piece of bread. If anyone's confused, it should be me."

Aoba shook his head again. His mind was having a hard time processing all of this; it felt like the fabric of the universe had been ripped from underneath his feet.

And then Desire's fingers rested against his chin, tilted his head up, and Aoba's breath caught in his throat.

"So that's what you look like, huh?" Desire sounded like he was talking to himself, but then he laughed with a shake of his head, his fingers dropping. "I'm taking a fuckin' shower. I feel disgusting." He eyed Aoba for a second, yet another grin breaking across his face. "That's an open invitation, by the way." He punctuated his sentence with a wink.

"Desire!" Aoba blushed, folding his arms across his chest, but he couldn't squash his smile. Desire was back. Desire was back. "Go shower and I'll make us breakfast." He eyed Desire a little shyly, hardly able to believe that it was him, in the flesh, standing not three feet away—but then he cleared his throat and tried to wipe the stupid look off his face. "Sound good?"

"Fine by me, but if memory serves your cooking's pretty shitty." Aoba glared at him, but Desire only laughed and turned on his heel, then headed for the stairs with a wave of his hand. "See you in a few."


Aoba watched his back as he disappeared up the steps, his heart still racing, his mind still floating.

Desire was back.

And Aoba felt alive again.

"So, tell me what happened?" Aoba set down two plates of scrambled eggs and rice as he slid into his usual seat at the dining room table, and Desire, sitting across from him with a towel wrapped around his hair and Aoba's old clothes clinging to his damp body, rubbed his hands together with a grin.

"This doesn't look half bad," he said, reaching for the pair of chopsticks set next to his plate. "And I already told you all I know—somehow Mink's plan backfired, and I pulled a body out of thin air. Fuck logic, am I right?" Desire balanced his chopsticks on his fingers; they soon dropped, wiping the grin straight off his face. Aoba laughed.

"Need help?"

He reached over the table, his heart picking up just a bit of speed when his hands brushed Desire's as he grabbed the chopsticks and tried to show Desire the proper way to hold them. After a few more minutes of Desire cursing like a sailor, Aoba laughing, and chopsticks clattering against the table, Aoba decided a fork might be the best route to take.

"Why the fuck do people even eat with those?" Desire grumbled once he was successfully demoted to fork status. And then he was too busy shovelling food in his mouth to speak, and Aoba was watching him in awe.

Desire was back.

And not just that, but he was more than a voice, more than an entity residing solely inside of Aoba's head. Aoba reached forward, pinched Desire's arm. Yeah. That was skin.

"...Can I help you?" Desire said through a mouthful of food, one eyebrow cocked. He swallowed, then smirked, then flicked Aoba on the forehead. Aoba grabbed at his forehead with a frown, but it was half-hearted; he still felt like he was floating.

"I'm still in shock," he muttered, finally attending to his own rumbling stomach and picking up his chopsticks. Now that the cause of his depression was wiped out, his hunger was back in full force. (His stomach was so empty it hurt.)

"Yeah, same here." Desire shovelled the last of his food into his mouth, then dropped his fork, pushed his plate away, and took a swig of juice. Aoba watched him as he began to eat himself, his stomach gurgling with joy at finally receiving sustenance. "But I figure questioning it will get us nowhere—might as well enjoy it, yeah?" Desire reached up, unwinding the towel from around his head and laying it on the table, his damp hair soon falling over his shoulders. He yawned, then leaned on his hands, eyeing Aoba with a wide smirk. Aoba immediately blushed, averting his eyes to the tabletop in front of them as he chewed.

He finished his food quickly, looking up once he was finished only to find Desire's eyes on nothing but him, still bright and strikingly gold and wide enough to make Aoba's hands shake.

"You're almost as bad as Mink, staring at me like that," he muttered as he gathered up their plates and set them in the sink. Desire's expression darkened.

"Do me a favor and never say that again." Desire stood, yawning wide, then came up behind Aoba, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head on his shoulder. Aoba froze. "You gonna shower next? You still look like shit."

"Yeah, Desire, and thanks." Aoba's eyebrow twitched. "Thanks a lot."

Desire laughed and then Aoba knew he was blushing, he could feel it from the heat on his cheeks, but he couldn't imagine why. Desire's hands unwound from his waist, and, gradually, his heartbeat evened out.

"You go do that and I'll get the dishes. I've watched you do them enough times," Desire said, grabbing a sponge from the top of the sink. "No promises they'll be spotless, but I've always been curious about what it's like to do them myself. Might as well live it up while this lasts, right?" He looked at Aoba with a grin and Aoba, with a little smile of his own, nodded, grabbed the towel off the table, then headed out of the kitchen.

He'd never showered so quickly in his life.

He was terrified that the moment he took his eye off him again, Desire would disappear, leaving him alone to wallow in self-pity and dirty bedsheets and empty thoughts. But when he came downstairs only to find Desire reclined against the couch, his feet propped up against the armrest, his back and head against the cushions, he heaved a relieved sigh.

Desire stared at the TV with dead eyes and yawned for the upteenth time, then shut it off with a click of the remote and tossed it aside, his gaze drifting to Aoba. It dragged along his entire body from his feet to the tip of his damp head with no sense of speed, suddenly making Aoba very, very self-conscious. He fidgeted, wrapped his arms around himself. Was he wearing something weird?

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Desire said with a grin, dragging his body into sitting position, his legs still tossed over the side of the couch. Aoba scowled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Desire shrugged one shoulder, then hopped to his feet and closed the distance between Aoba and himself so quickly Aoba didn't have time to blink before he was pressed against the wall, Desire's hands on either side of his head, those gold eyes staring him straight in the face.

And then Desire kissed him.

Aoba squeaked and tried to wedge his hands between their bodies, but then Desire had a hold of his hands, their fingers were laced together against his chest, his lips were moving, Aoba's lips were moving, and Aoba's eyes eventually slipped closed.

His mind was a mess when they finally parted, and it took him a good thirty seconds or so to regulate his breathing. Desire just looked at him, his eyes low and glassy and that same cocky smirk on his face.

Aoba gulped.

"...Why the hell do you keep kissing me?"

"Why the hell wouldn't I?" Desire chuckled, then flicked his tongue against Aoba's lip. Aoba shivered. "I've wanted to for a while."

Aoba was speechless, but his red cheeks, glassy eyes, and bewildered expression said more than enough. And then Desire pulled away; Aoba's empty hands dropped to his sides.

"So," Desire began, voice nonchalant as ever, "what happened while I was gone? What day is it?"

It took a moment for Aoba to muster up an answer; Desire was good at changing the subject when it suited him.

"...Monday," he said finally, his voice a little rough. He cleared his throat, his hands clasping together, shaking just the smallest bit.

Desire sighed, then scratched the back of his neck. "I was gone for two whole days, huh?" His hand fell, but then he gave Aoba a weird look. "Why the hell aren't you at school?"

Aoba's eyes flickered to the door and he shrugged, and that was all it took for Desire to start laughing again.

"Really? You missed me so much you couldn't even go to school?" Desire's voice was teasing, but the look in his eyes said something entirely different. "...That kinda makes me happy."

Aoba blinked, his eyes shifting back to Desire.


It was Desire's turn to look away.


And then the sound of a car pulling into the driveway shattered whatever little moment they could have had.

Aoba's eyes were instantly wide and without a word Desire scrambled towards the stairs, taking them two at a time, Aoba following suit, both bursting into his room, panting, hands on their knees. Desire's eyes were everywhere, his fingers combing through his hair, until his gaze settled on the closet, and he bolted for it just as the front door opened.

He slipped inside and with one last flash of gold and teeth, the door slipped shut.


The front door slammed.

Aoba, his eyes wide, sprinted towards his bed and threw back the covers, then dove inside. He snuggled in deep, trying his best to make it seem like he was still in his pajamas, tucking the covers under his chin. (His hair was still slightly damp, but with any luck, Granny wouldn't notice.) Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and then the knob on his door turned, and Aoba's eyes slipped shut.

"Aoba?" Granny's voice was softer than usual. "Are you awake?"

Aoba opened his eyes slowly, feigning grogginess; he even managed to fake a yawn, but of course, this soon turned into a real one. (It only helped his cause.)

"Yeah," he said, his mouth finally closing. Granny managed a stiff smile, and drifted towards his bed, sitting down on the edge once she reached it.

"I wanted to check in on you." Granny's hand pressed against his forehead; her eyebrows creased. "You feel a little warm."

Aoba's heart pounded. "I-I'm feeling a lot better, actually. I think I just needed to sleep."

Granny grunted, then pulled her hand back. Her eyes drifted around Aoba's room, her eyebrows furrowing again just barely; Aoba held his breath. Eventually, her eyes shut, and she sighed.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're feeling better," she said, standing slowly, bracing one arm against the bed. "I'm going out again, but I should be back before dinner. Make sure to eat lunch. There's plenty to eat in the fridge." With one last look at Aoba (and another, longer look around his room, her eyes narrowed just the smallest bit), she sighed again, then stepped out into the hall, the door shutting softly behind her.

Aoba let out a long breath.

How the hell did he ever get anything past that woman?

Sitting up slowly and brushing his bangs out of his face, Aoba's eyes drifted towards the closet door as it creaked open. Desire stepped out, a small, relieved smirk on his face, then leaned against the door once it was closed. He let out a sigh.

"Guess I'm gonna have to stay a secret, huh?"

Aoba smiled wryly.

"Guess so."

After Granny left again, Desire tore through the house, touching and trying out everything he could (including food, clothes, and various other inanimate objects) until he finally grew bored of what the house had to offer and dragged Aoba outside. Aoba was wary about leaving, what with Granny being out and about and the possibility of her returning early, but after a few choice words from Desire, he found himself leading the way.

"Where do you even want to go?" he asked as Desire stepped along beside him on the sidewalk, his eyes drifting all around, a slight bounce to his step, a slight curve to his lips.

"Don't care," he said, his cheeks dusted pink from the cold. His childlike wonder was enough to bring a smile to Aoba's face.

"You're like a little kid, you know that?" He shook his head with a smile; Desire glared.

"Like fuck I am."

Aoba laughed; the lightness he felt now was completely different from what he'd grown used to over the days before. He felt light because he was whole, not because something was missing, and as Desire's eyes continued to wander around, sparkling with fascination, Aoba couldn't help the way his chest warmed up so much his jacket almost felt too hot.

They continued to walk, both boys with their hands jammed in their pockets, their breaths making little puffs of smoke against the air, until their location dawned on Aoba and he froze in place.

Desire had drifted a few steps behind and ended up smacking against him, cursing loudly as he stumbled back a couple of steps, nearly tripping off the sidewalk and into the busy road.

"The hell?" He stepped around Aoba once he regained his footing, his eyes drifting across the street to where Aoba's eyes were focused. His face drained of color.

Without realizing it, Aoba had taken the path his feet were most accustomed to, and, by some terrible coincidence, school had just let out—that much was obvious by the swarm of cars lined up, leaving the school parking lot, by the gaggle of students lining the sidewalks, making their way home. Aoba's heart hammered in his chest.

Mink was probably still there.

He nibbled on his lip, and as though Desire had read his mind, there was suddenly a hand in his face, fingers snapping in front of his eyes.

"Nooo way, Aoba," Desire said, his voice flat, his hand falling. "Over my dead body."

"But I haven't seen him all weekend," Aoba muttered, shifting in place. His eyes drifted up to Desire; he looked like a kicked puppy, his lower lip pushed out, his eyes watery and wide. Desire groaned.

"Goddamn it, that's not fair." He ran his fingers through his hair with a loud sigh. "Fine. Whatever. But are you gonna tell him that his witchcraft shit was a no-go?"

Aoba's eyebrows knitted together. Well, if he did, maybe they could get some answers. God knows his head was still swimming with confusion and brimming with questions.

"...It's not like he can do anything to you now," Aoba said, scratching the side of his face. "I mean, you're basically human, right?"

"I'd like to think so." Desire frowned. "But I don't want to see him. You can go ahead and do whatever, but the second I lay eyes on him my fist is meeting his face."


And so, with a deep breath and a look in both directions, Aoba stepped off the curb and crossed the street.

Chapter Text

Aoba weaved through the last remaining students with a pounding heart and shaking fists, soon making his way through the school doors and into the hallway that had grown so familiar. He steeled himself with a deep breath as he stepped towards Mink's room, and then, after giving himself a moment of mental preparation, he peeked in the open door.

There Mink sat at his desk, pen poised over paper, his usual look of indifference plastered across his face. Aoba's chest felt warm.

"E-Excuse me."

Slowly, Mink's head lifted, and he blinked a couple of times as though he was waking from a dream. After a moment his head turned to the door, his eyes widening just a fraction.


Aoba, with a smile so wide his cheeks hurt, nodded once.


He stepped into the classroom, his hands buried in his pockets, and paused right in front of Mink's desk, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Mink, though his face wouldn't have given it away on first glance, looked very surprised.

Aoba cleared his throat.

"I-I was just in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd stop by." Internally, he cringed; he could only imagine Desire's commentary on a cliché line like that, even if it were true (and it felt weird not hearing it for himself).

"...I see." Mink's eyes closed, and he snorted, his lips lifting the smallest bit. "I'm glad you did." Aoba's chest clenched. And then Mink's eyes drifted open, and Aoba's eyes darted to the ground. Guilt tugged at the corners of his mind—guilt over Desire's sudden return, guilt over skipping class, guilt over Desire kissing him twice (even though he'd already done much, much worse), and he took a deep breath.

"I...have something to tell you," he mumbled to the floor, wringing his hands. Mink's eyebrows lifted.

"By all means, go ahead." He leaned forward in his desk with the smallest sigh, resting his chin on his clenched fists. "I have something to tell you as well."

"You first." Aoba managed a twisted smile, shoving his hands back into his pockets and playing with a couple of pieces of lint he found in them, rubbing them between his fingers. Mink, with a stern, almost melancholy expression, pushed his chair away from his desk, and slowly got to his feet. With heavy steps he walked around to where Aoba stood, his hand immediately coming up to cup Aoba's cheek, his thumb massaging the small, yellowish bruises on his chin. (Aoba hadn't noticed them, but it's not like he'd spent much time looking in the mirror over the past few days.)

"I was out of line," Mink said, stroking Aoba's chin, his lips. Aoba's eyelashes fluttered, his heart thumping hard. "I let my temper get the best of me, and you suffered for it. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how much I regret my actions."

Aoba swallowed hard, his mouth bone dry. It wasn't exactly an apology, but...

"It's okay," he whispered, his voice cracking just a bit. With an embarrassed wince he cleared his throat, then managed a small smile, his hand covering Mink's on his cheek, leaning into the touch. He took a shaky breath. "I know you were worried about me, and you did what you thought was best, and I told you that I wanted him gone before, so... But, uhm, what I have to tell you kind of…" Aoba's eyebrows knitted together, and he nibbled his lip, his eyes falling to the ground. How could he say this...?

And then there was the sound of fingers rapping against the doorframe and someone clearing their throat. Mink removed his hand so quickly Aoba's face might as well have been an open flame, and his eyes were quite a bit wider than Aoba had ever seen, likely a result of being caught in such an intimate situation with a student of all people; but once they drifted to the door, they bulged to a point Aoba never imagined. Never before had Mink looked so outwardly shocked.

By this alone, Aoba knew exactly who it was.

"What happened to staying outside?" he said, his voice dry, his heart falling right to the floor. And they were having such a nice moment, too...

"I got impatient," Desire said with a smirk, "and what did I say about doing couple-y shit at school? We just had this conversation, Aoba." He strolled into the room, coming to stand right behind Aoba, and threw his arms over his shoulders, squeezing tight, all smiles. Aoba let out a resounding groan.

Mink's face was blank with shock.

They stood like that for a while, all three of them, Desire draped over Aoba's back, grinning from ear-to-ear, Aoba with an expression that fell somewhere between mortification and resignation while his hands dangled limply at his sides, and Mink with a look that, after a few minutes, spoke of nothing but regret.

"...I made a mistake."

Desire snorted, his expression contorting as he barely held in a chortle; and then he buried his face in Aoba's hair, hoots of laughter falling out of his mouth and onto Aoba's shoulder, barely muffled by the thin fabric of his jacket. Aoba grimaced from the volume of his voice and shook him off with a rough twist of his shoulder, but even then Desire continued to laugh, snorting like crazy, his hands covering his mouth, his head whipping back and forth. Mink's hand rested against his forehead.

"...I made a terrible mistake," he muttered, his fingers digging into his temples, his head shaking slowly. "A terrible, terrible mistake."

"Hey, hey, hey," Desire said, his eyes scrunched tight, waving his hand once his laughter finally began to ebb, "don't even act like you wouldn't miss me. You should have seen Aoba when I came home this morning; he was a fuckin' wreck, looked like he'd been crying his eyes out and hadn't showered for days."

"Desire, shut up!" Aoba's hands smacked against his splotchy face, and he groaned, loud and long. Desire's arms once again flung around his shoulders, and he grinned right at Mink, gave him a wink. Mink, his hand falling slowly, looked from Aoba to Desire, the expression in his eyes shifting greatly as they drifted between the two.

And then, he sighed, and sank onto his desk.

"...I was too upset, I wasn't thinking straight…" He clutched at his forehead again, gritting his teeth. He shot a glare at Desire whose smile only widened.

"Oh, come on, teach—don't tell me you wanted our fun to be over that quickly. And Aoba here needs me around." And then, in that very instant, Desire pressed a sloppy kiss right against Aoba's cheek.

Aoba, his hands shaking, his face reddening and twisting, shoved at Desire once again, only to have the leach immediately re-attach himself with an even stronger grip than before, practically strangling Aoba with how hard he held on. Aoba groaned in misery; Mink's eyebrow twitched.

"If you would be so kind as to release my student, I believe this conversation would be better continued elsewhere." Mink spoke through gritted teeth, his face strung tight. Desire's eyes twinkled; his teeth flashed as he grinned.

"Sure thing," he said, finally releasing his hold on Aoba who only sighed, massaging his shoulders with a drained expression. He shot Mink an apologetic look, but the man was too busy staring Desire down to notice it. His eyes were slits.

"Looks like someone's got a bit of a jealous streak," Desire muttered as he flipped his hood up, just loud enough to be heard. Mink clenched his fist, steeled his jaw—and then Desire, with a snicker and a wave of his hand, headed for the door.

Mink's expression was dark.

"Don't pay attention to him," Aoba said, lightly touching Mink's hand, stroking his weathered skin. Mink's eyes immediately lost their edge as they drifted to Aoba, his face loosening up just a bit. "He just likes pissing you off."

Mink sighed, his lips twitching.

"I know."

And so, the three of them piled into Mink's car, Desire pitching a fit when he was forced in the back, Mink silencing him with the threat of being made to walk. Aoba barely hid his amusement as Desire managed to stay silent for three whole minutes before his whining picked up again. (And it was quite a record for him, Aoba had to admit.)

Desire shifted where he sat, his feet slamming against the back of Mink's seat, his lips curling into a grin. Mink, his eyes still on the road, let out a small grunt, his hands flexing on the wheel.

"Do you mind?"

Desire smiled, sliding down farther in his seat, knees against his chest, dirty shoes crammed against the driver's seat.

"Not at all."

Aoba groaned and knocked his head against the headrest.

"Can't you at least try to be nice?" he gritted, eyeing Desire in the rearview mirror. Desire shrugged one shoulder.

"I'm not wailing on him, am I?"

"Don't even think about it," Mink said, voice flat as always. "I won't hesitate to put you back in your place."

"My place was inside of Aoba." Desire's eyes narrowed. "Is your memory already failing on you, old man?"

Mink's eyes narrowed; Aoba groaned.

"Desire, just shut up."

Desire, with a chuckle and a cross of his arms, murmured under his breath: "That just means I won." His eyes lighting up, he leaned forward, resting his elbow on the top of Aoba's seat. Aoba raised an eyebrow—but then Desire's lips were right outside of his ear, and he stiffened.

"If I behave, will you let me play around tonight?"

Aoba's eyes bulged and red blossomed on his cheeks, spread over the bridge of his nose, and he slipped down in his seat, hiding behind the high collar of his jacket. If Mink heard what Desire said, he didn't show it; his eyes stayed firm on the road in front of them, his gaze unwavering. Desire snickered, and, with a cocky little smirk, slid back into his seat.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"No you won't," Aoba snapped, his hand slamming against his forehead, combing through his hair. This was a mess. "Can't you stay quiet for a second?"

"I can…" Desire crossed his arms, glanced at Mink's reflection in the mirror. "But I won't."

"You really are a little kid."

Desire frowned.

"Am not."

"You so are."

"Am fuckin' not." Desire kicked Mink's seat a little too hard; the crease between Mink's eyebrows was so deep it looked painful.

"Yes you a—"

"Both of you. Shut up. Now."

Aoba squeaked, immediately sliding into his jacket; Desire slammed his feet against Mink's seat once again.

"Don't tell me what to do, grandpa."

Mink heaved a sigh, then jammed his foot on the brake; the car rocked to a sudden stop in the middle of the road, and Desire, with a yelp, crashed into Mink's seat, his head smacking against the headrest, stars popping up in front of his eyes from the impact. He swore violently, gripping his face, and collapsed back against the seat in an ungraceful heap of limbs and blue hair.

Aoba smirked. "That's what you get for not wearing a seatbelt."

Desire was quiet for the rest of the ride.

By the time they pulled into Mink's driveway, Desire had transitioned from loud and bratty to quiet and brooding, his hands jammed underneath his armpits, his hood obscuring most of his face, his arms tight across his chest. Aoba sighed as he made his way around the car and tried to coax Desire out, but Desire only glared.

"...You're just like a li—"

"Finish that sentence and I'll punch you in the throat."

Desire lugged himself out of the car and kicked the door shut, throwing his weight around, his posture slumped-over, defensive, his hands crammed deep in his pockets. He didn't like this house, not after what happened the last time they were there.

"This fuckin' place again?"

Aoba shrugged, then said: "It's where Mink wanted to go. And I won't let him do anything to you, alright? I'm not losing you again." He lightly punched Desire on the shoulder, a small, reassuring smile on his face.

Desire looked away, his cheeks just a little bit darker than usual—but it could have been from the cold.


They soon made their way inside behind Mink, kicking off their shoes at the door, and Aoba sighed when Desire clung to his side, his arms tight around Aoba's waist—not that Aoba could really blame him for being a little clingy. The last time they stood in this room wasn't exactly a happy memory.

"Do either of you want anything?"

In unison, their eyes flickered to Mink. Desire, his lips curling, opened his mouth, but Aoba promptly slapped his hand over it. Desire's expression drooped.

"We're fine, thanks."

Mink stepped through into the other room and then, much to Aoba's mortification, Desire licked a wet trail straight across his palm. He whipped his hand back and shook it with a wide grimace, the sticky, damp feeling making his skin crawl.

"What the hell?!"

"Don't stick your hands where they don't belong." Desire smirked from ear-to-ear, then finally unwound his arms from Aoba's waist and stood up straight, hands on his back. It cracked a couple of times, making Aoba wince. "How long do you think we'll be here? Place gives me the creeps."

Aoba lowered his soiled hand with a sigh, wiped it on his jacket, and finally took a moment to examine the small, cozy living room.

Well, he certainly didn't find it creepy. A little traditional, with the woven tribal tapestries hung on the wood-panelled walls, the little altar complete with a wooden incense stand set up in the corner, and the way the furniture sitting in the room seemed old, almost timeless, like years of history had been carved into the wood, created upon the cushions—but it suited Mink. It suited Mink a lot.

Aoba cleared his throat.

"It's not creepy," he muttered. Desire scowled.

"Of course you'd say that."

Before Aoba had a chance to defend his opinion, Mink reappeared, two black mugs in his hands. He stepped towards the boys, his expression severe, then thrust the mugs in front of him. Both Aoba and Desire blinked.

"Are those...for us?" Aoba asked, his voice a little quiet.

Mink sighed, then nodded once.


Tentatively, Aoba reached forward with a small smile and took the one nearest to him; Desire did the same, though the look he gave Mink was less grateful and more suspicious.

"Did you poison it or something?" he asked as he stared into the steaming mug, sniffed the brown liquid.

"No," Mink said. "I wouldn't do that to Aoba."

And then he left the room again, his footsteps measured and quick. Aoba's eyes were wide.


"I know."

"No, no, Desire—"

"Aoba, I fuckin' heard him." Desire grinned. "So he actually knows your name, huh?" He brought the mug to his lips. "Surprise, surprise."

Too bad the tea was boiling hot.

Desire sputtered, the mug clattering out of his hands and to the ground, shattering, and the front of his hoodie soaked right through.

"Son of a motherfuckin' bitch that fuckin' burns—"

"Desire!" Aoba tsked then set his mug down on the ground and helped Desire unzip his jacket and shrug it off before he had a chance to be burned too badly. "Be more careful, damn it."

Desire, jacket sliding off his shoulders and onto the floor, gaped at him.

"...Are you fuckin' serious?"

Mink stepped into the room a moment later, mug in his own hand, then paused in the doorway. His dull eyes first went to Aoba, then to Desire, then to the pile of shattered ceramic, spilled tea, and Desire's drenched hoodie that laid on the floor.

With a sigh, he turned on his heel and left the room again.

Desire laughed so hard it hurt.

After they finally managed to clean up the mess Desire made and throw Desire's hoodie in the dryer, they all took seats in the living room: Desire next to Aoba on a little wicker couch shoved in the corner, Mink sitting across from them in a rocking chair placed adjacent to the makeshift altar. Mink's choice of furniture was eclectic, to say the least.

As the trio settled in, Mink set down his tea and reached for a little box set on the altar (his chair was within arm's reach of it) and opened it, pulling out a pipe, a box of matches, and a little baggy filled with what looked like tobacco. Within a moment of Mink opening the bag, the sickeningly sweet smell of the shredded leaves wafted over to the boys on the couch. Desire sniffed hard.

"So he is on drugs."

"Desire." Aoba clicked his tongue, then took a sip of his cooled-down tea. The familiar taste settled on his tongue, bringing back a flood of memories from not too long ago. His cheeks felt warm.

"It's nothing illegal, if that's what you're thinking," Mink said, his voice a low drawl as he packed the leaves into the metal pipe. "Just unheard of."

"Suuure," Desire said, smirking. "That's what they all say."

Mink snorted, swiped a match, then brought the packed pipe to his lips and held the flame to the bowl until it smoldered. Once it did, he shook his hand hard as he inhaled, extinguishing the match, and flicked it into a little ashtray. Exhaling a thin plume of smoke, he sat back, eyed Desire hard.

He took a deep breath.

"In my culture, it is not unheard of for one to be born with two spirits residing inside a single body. Sometimes, the two hosts can learn to coexist through the use of meditation or medicine, but others—" Mink stared at Desire, "—prove to be too bothersome and must be expelled."

Desire opened his mouth to retort, but Aoba, eyes wide, placed a hand on his shoulder; his mouth snapped shut.

"I dug up some old books on tonics and their uses, and found one meant to send evil presences into something like an eternal sleep. As you can see, it didn't work as intended." Mink stared at Desire, his eyes sharp, probing. He brought the pipe back to his lips. "I wonder why."

Desire shrunk back, his posture sloppy, his arms folded across his chest.

"I wanna go home."

"Desire, come on—"

"I said," Desire stood, slamming his feet against the ground, his fists tight at his sides, "I wanna go home."

Aoba sighed into the mug in his hands, staring at Desire, his expression worn, tired.

"...But we just got here."

"And I wanna fuckin' leave."

They stared at each other for a few more seconds, Aoba's expression growing increasingly blank, Desire's growing increasingly annoyed.

And then Aoba's phone rang.

His eyes widened and he set his mug down on the end table slowly, then reached into his pocket, groaning aloud when he saw who it was.


"Shit," he muttered. Desire plopped back onto the couch, stole a peek at Aoba's phone screen, then muttered his own curse.

"We never should've come," he muttered under his breath, reaching across Aoba for the mug on the table. Aoba glared at him, then tapped the green answer button.

He immediately regretted pressing the phone to his ear.

"Aoba, what the hell do you think you're doing, running off while you're si—"

"Hello to you too, Granny," he said, teeth clenched, phone held away from his face. Desire leaned back and brought the mug to his lips with a snort.

Granny was silent for a moment; Aoba could imagine her blood pressure rising.

"Aoba, you have ten seconds to tell me where you are or so help me I'll—"

"Mink's." Aoba's eyes immediately squeezed closed.

"Dumbass," Desire muttered with a smirk, mug pressed tight against his lips. Mink snorted.

"...Aoba, why the hell are you—"

"B-Because I felt better, and I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything t-too important with school, y'know?"

"...God, you are the shittiest fuckin' li—"

Aoba flipped Desire off.

"I'll be home soon, alright? I'm sorry for leaving without telling you."

Granny was silent for a long moment—Aoba could feel each second as though it lasted a millenium.

"...I don't want you running off with this man, Aoba," Granny said, her voice a good few decibels lower than before. Aoba went limp with relief. "You barely know him."

"Don't worry, Granny. I'm being careful, I promise. I won't be out too much longer."


And then Granny hung up.

Aoba stared at his phone in shock as he removed it from his ear, hardly able to believe he'd actually pulled that off.

Desire, his thighs hugging the mug in his lap, began to clap.

"Good job, Aoba," he said, smirking wide. "You tamed the beast."

Aoba snorted, melting into the stiff couch cushions, wishing they'd swallow him whole. He slipped his phone away, heaved a little sigh.

"I'm not proud of lying to her, y'know," he muttered, blowing a stray piece of hair out of his face. Desire shrugged.

"Par for the course."

Across from them, Mink cleared his throat; both their eyes flitted back to him.

"As I was saying before, this—" Mink motioned with his pipe, a little cloud of smoke leaving his lips, "—was never my intention."

"So you were trying to kill me, then." Desire gripped the mug so hard his knuckles turned white.

"...There's a marked difference between sleep and death."

Desire's eyes dulled. "Last time I checked, "eternal sleep" and "death" meant about the same thing."

"Not necessarily."

Desire gritted his teeth, his body curling forward, his nostrils flaring, his hand gripping the mug's handle so hard it almost cracked.

"God, I can't fuckin' stand you and your goddamn attitude!" Desire huffed, his eyes narrowed. "You know, if it wasn't for me, you and Aoba would've never had a chance. You should be thanking me for making your shitty life suck a little less."

Aoba shifted in his seat, but stayed silent. He had nothing to say.

Mink sighed, his eyes slipping closed.

"I already told Aoba I acted out of anger. There's nothing I can do about it now."

"But you're still a goddamn prick who acts like his shit don't stink."

"Desire." Aoba placed a hand on his shoulder; with a frown, he noticed Desire was shaking. "It's not just his fault."

Desire's shoulders fell, his eyes darting to the side.


Aoba sighed.

"Well, what now?" Aoba reached for the mug in Desire's lap, gently uncurled his fingers from around it, and brought it to his own lips. "Is Desire human?"

Mink sighed, his eyes finally opening. When they locked with Aoba's, his heart pounded hard.

"I don't know. This has never happened before."

Desire snorted, eyeing Mink with disdain. "What, you go around performing exorcisms for fun?"

"This isn't my first experience with forces such as you."

"Fuckin' weirdo." Desire slunk back, crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you, a witch doctor or something?"

Mink grunted, took a long drag of his pipe. "No."

Desire snorted.

Mink sighed out a breath of smoke. "Do you remember anything? After you were…"

"Kicked out?" Desire scoffed. "No. Not a fuckin' thing. I woke up in the park this morning covered in dirt and God knows what else, and that's all I've got."


"The hell's that supposed to—"


And then the mug was empty.

Aoba sighed, set the mug aside, and placed his hands on his lap.

"...So where does this leave us?" He eyed both of them, heaved a little sigh. It seemed like this conversation had gotten them nowhere. If anything, he was even more confused.

Mink finally set his pipe down and reached for his own mug of tea, taking a slow sip.

"I'll do more research, but I can't promise I'll find anything." He lowered the mug from his lips with a sigh. "I never meant for things to turn out like this."

"You keep sayin' shit like that, but the bottom line is you fucked up, and now you're gonna have to deal with the consequences." Desire, a slow smirk splitting his face in two, suddenly twisted his body so he was facing Aoba. Aoba lifted one eyebrow, blinking rapidly, and then, without a word of warning, Desire's lips were on his.

Aoba's eyes bulged.

But then Desire pulled away, licked his lips, peeked at Mink from the corner of his eye, and said:

"Consequence number one."

Chapter Text

Mink hardly ever showed his emotions—it was something he was known for at school, something his students and coworkers all whispered about behind his back. The chill in his eyes, the neutrality of his expressions, the controlled tone of his voice all acted as a deterrent, a message that told everyone he met that he wasn't to be trifled with.

It seemed Desire hadn't gotten the memo.

"Desire, why would you do that." Aoba's eyes were wide, his voice was hushed, his palms were sweating, and his heart felt like it might pound a hole right through his chest.

Desire's grin was bigger than ever. "Why wouldn't I, Aoba?" He leaned back against the couch, arms crossed, legs spread.

Never before had Mink's eyes been so cold.

He took a slow, measured sip of his drink, his gaze sharp, piercing right through Desire, every single shred of warmth stripped away, leaving nothing but a slab of gold-tinted ice.

"...Is that a challenge?"

"Hell yeah it is."

Aoba buried his face in his hands with a groan, shaking his head. He wondered what he did to deserve this.

"...Aoba already made his decision." There was a hint of something in Mink's voice, something that made Aoba's stomach flip. "I'm afraid you're too late."

"Yeah, but you don't know what goes on behind closed doors, now do you?"

Aoba jolted, his hands falling into his lap, his head whipping to Desire. He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Desire, don't you dare."

Desire chuckled, gave Aoba a quick wink.

"It's our little secret."

Aoba's face was hot and red, and he sank into the seat, one hand pressed firm over the side of his face. If Mink knew what Desire made him do… He shook his head; the embarrassment made his stomach twist.

Mink, eyes still trained on Desire, took a slow sip of his tea.

"What happened to you wanting Aoba and I to be together?"

"That was before I had a body, teach. I can do a lot more now."

"...Like pine for an extension of yourself?"

Desire's face fell.

"It's not any worse than fucking your student."

Mink's eyebrow twitched, his lips curling just the smallest bit; but it wasn't a smile. It wasn't even close.

"You're the one who instigated this relationship."

"Yeah, which is why you should be kissin' the ground I fuckin' walk on."

And then, Aoba's phone buzzed.

It startled Aoba so badly, broke the tension so suddenly he jumped, earning him an amused glance from both Mink and Desire. With a stuttered apology (but why was he apologizing, really?), he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and heaved a loud sigh as his eyes scanned over the text on his screen.

"Granny's pissed again."

"Figures," Desire muttered. But then he leapt to his feet, shoved his hands in his back pockets, and gave Mink a grin. "Guess we'll have to continue this conversation another time. What a shame."

Mink scoffed, then set his mug down on the altar next to his chair. His eyes drifted back to Desire and he, with a sarcastic little smirk of his own, said: "A shame indeed."

Desire's upper lip curled, his body tensing like he was ready to fight—but then Aoba was on his feet, his hands on Desire's back, pushing him towards the door, and it was all Desire could do to keep from tripping over his own feet. When they reached their destination Desire whipped around, his mouth open wide, eyebrows drawn together, but the look on Aoba's face soon made his lips clamp shut.


"Give us a couple of minutes."

Desire's face darkened.

"And why the hell should I?" He crossed his arms over his chest, eyed Aoba hard. Aoba only sighed.

"Please, Desire? You interrupted us earlier." His expression was entirely drained, almost desperate. Desire, with a huff, whipped his head to the side, his cheeks flushing just barely. That wasn't fair.


And then, in something Aoba thought akin to an act of God, he turned around, opened the door, and stepped outside, slamming it shut behind him. As Aoba stood in shock, his body drooped, the tension in the air seeming to have scurried away along with Desire.

With a weak little smile Aoba turned to Mink, only to find the man standing a few feet away, his arms loosely crossed across his chest, his own expression somewhere between exasperation and utmost relief. Aoba could relate completely.

"...He's quite a handful," Mink said, slowly closing the distance between Aoba and himself. Aoba snorted.

"You have no idea."

And then Mink's arms were around Aoba's shoulders, Aoba was crushed against Mink's chest, and his heart felt so full he thought it might burst. He inhaled deeply, Mink's spicy-sweet scent coloring his cheeks, setting his mind at ease. He'd missed this.

"I'm really sorry about everything," he muttered against Mink's shirt. He snuggled closer, his own arms winding around Mink's waist; Mink was wonderfully warm. "I know you probably won't believe me, but Desire really isn't all that bad, he just—" Aoba sighed, a wry little smile finding its way onto his lips. "He's just really bad at...behaving."

Aoba could feel more than hear Mink's chuckle, and then there were calloused fingers running through his hair, a chin resting against the top of his head, and Aoba let out a happy sigh.

"I know."

Then Aoba's phone buzzed again.

With a small groan, Aoba unwound his arms from Mink's waist, but before he got very far fingers grasped his chin, tilted his head up, and Mink's lips meshed against his own. Aoba's eyes widened for a split second before they slipped shut, and he fell against Mink's chest, his heart jumping, his hands shaking as he clutched at Mink's shirt.

Mink let out a heavy breath through his nose, his lips hot, his saliva sweet. Aoba's eyebrows knitted together and his knees shook from the force of Mink's lips against his own, and then there was a tongue sliding against his lips, prying them apart, and he whimpered, gripping Mink's shirt harder, parting his lips wide. But all too soon, Mink broke away.

"I didn't get to kiss you all weekend," he said, his voice slightly breathless, his lips brushing against Aoba's cheek, his temple, his forehead. Aoba's breath hitched; his body trembled. "I want to see you tomorrow. Without Desire. Can that be arranged?"

Aoba, still in a daze, nodded quickly.


Mink smirked, his hands running through Aoba's hair one more time before he stepped away and headed into the other room, leaving Aoba standing there entirely dumbstruck, his hands drifting closer to his face, cupping his burning cheeks.

A few seconds later Mink reappeared, Desire's jacket thrown carelessly over his shoulder, and leaned down for one more quick peck in passing before he and Aoba headed out the door; he reached for Aoba's hand as he pulled the door shut behind them, their fingers barely brushing before they twined together, tight and warm. Aoba couldn't squash the smile on his face as Mink locked the door, not even once Desire came into his field of vision, arms crossed, leaning against the driver's side of Mink's car. Desire, on the other hand, looked less than amused.

"Gross," he muttered, pushing off the car and yanking the backseat door open. He fell inside, then slammed the door shut. Aoba winced from how loud it was; Mink squeezed his hand.

By some miracle, Desire stayed quiet the entire ride, even managed to keep his feet and hands to himself—but their arrival home presented a whole new set of difficulties, something both realized after Mink had driven away and they were standing in the driveway of Granny's house.

"Okay, how the fuck are we gonna pull this off," Desire grumbled, hands shoved in his pockets, hood and messy hair hiding most of his face. "Granny's perceptive as shit." Aoba sighed.

"You should've thought about that before you forced me to leave the house," he mumbled, stepping towards the door. Desire frowned, trailing behind Aoba.

"Yeah, well if I knew what we were gonna see him I would've been happy staying here, goddamn."

Aoba rolled his eyes, and then, after taking a deep breath, put his hand on the doorknob (it was unlocked, thank God) and pushed the door open. After they both made it inside and Aoba peeked around the corner and into the living room, making sure that Granny wasn't standing where she could see them, he shut the door silently behind his and Desire's backs.

One second passed in silence, and Aoba and Desire managed to slip their shoes off and kick them to the corner.

Two seconds passed in silence, and Aoba had made it to the stairs, Desire trailing closely behind, keeping to the wall.

Three seconds passed in silence, and then rapid footsteps approached the entryway, he and Desire exchanged a look of total panic, and they both made a break for it.

By the time they made it to Aoba's room, out-of-breath, eyes bulging wide, the door shut tight behind them, Granny was knocking hard and fast and yelling up a storm.

Aoba and Desire stared at each other while Granny went off, and Desire, with a small sigh and a look of melancholic resignation, headed for the closet, opened it, and slipped inside. Aoba, with an even bigger sigh and a silent prayer to whatever God might decide to have mercy on his poor, adolescent soul, unlocked the door.

He didn't even have a chance to take a step away from the door before it was flung open, almost causing him to topple over from the force of Granny's shove; lucky for him he regained his balance rather quickly, but then he was faced with something even more frightening than falling on his face: a raging Granny.

"Aoba," she yelled, standing in the doorway, finger jutted out, face twitching with anger, "I don't know whatis going through your head, but you've been acting strange for the past few days and I—"

"I am so sorry."

Granny blinked.

Aoba, head bowed, hands clasped in front of him, and eyes on the floor, took a deep breath.

"I know I've been making you worry, and I'm really sorry about that. I've just been going through some stuff but everything's getting worked out, so…" Aoba chanced a look up, face sheepish. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

Granny stayed frozen in place, finger still hanging in the air for a good minute, mouth agape; but then, with a sigh, she lowered her hand, and her face began to relax.

"You can talk to me about anything, Aoba," she said, voice much calmer, more soothing than a moment before. "I'm your grandmother. It's what I'm here for."

"I know that," Aoba said with a small smile. "And thank you. I...really appreciate it."

As though those were the magic words, Granny's face morphed into a tired smile, and she snorted out a chuckle.

"Stop worrying me so much." She shook her head, then, with a sigh, headed out the open door and for the stairs. "Dinner is ready," she called on her way down.

"I'll be down in a minute."

And then Aoba was alone.

He jumped when the sound of clapping came from the other side of his room, his head jerking up towards the source of the noise. There Desire stood, grin firmly in place, leaning against the closet door.

"Good job, Aoba. You're getting pretty good at this."

"...Somehow I feel like that's not a good thing."

Desire snorted, then crossed the room and plopped onto Aoba's bed with a small bounce, back against the rumpled covers. Hurriedly, Aoba closed the door and turned the lock, just in case Granny decided to head back upstairs and check on him again (though he doubted she would).

"We're going to have to be more careful," he said as he joined Desire on the bed, legs crossed, chin on his hands.

"She's gonna find out sooner or later. That old lady is sharp."

"Tell me something I don't know," Aoba muttered. And then, he sighed. "I'm gonna go eat—we can't have her coming back up here again. She's already suspicious enough." He stood, then shot Desire a small smile. "I'll sneak you up something to eat later, alright?"

"You better." Desire grinned. "I'm fuckin' starving."

Aoba snorted, and then, after throwing one last look over his shoulder, he headed for the door.

After his (second) knee-jerk apology, Granny was much calmer. As they ate they discussed Aoba's school life (although, for the sake of his pride and his grandmother's sanity, he kept it brief), and his and Mink's new relationship. That was when things got a little awkward.

"...So how old is this man, again?" The sound of chopsticks clinking against her plate punctuated Granny's sentence; Aoba stared into his bowl of soup for a good thirty seconds before he found the courage to respond.


Granny's eyebrow twitched, her chopsticks pausing halfway to her mouth.

"...And he knows you're nineteen?"

"Y...Yeah?" Aoba took a big bite of rice, chewing slowly, his eyes on the table, his cheeks extremely red.

"And he's fine with this?"


Granny only sighed.

And that was the end of that conversation.

After dinner finally ended (and Aoba was grateful; who knew what Desire was up to), he cleaned up, and then, when Granny wasn't looking, swiped the tupperware full of leftovers out of the fridge, a water bottle from the pantry, and a fork out of the drawer.

He'd never seen someone eat so fast before in his life.

As he watched Desire shovel food into his mouth at a speed that was so quick it was nearly inhuman, he had half a mind to tell him to slow down lest he end up a severe case of regret and an upset stomach—but the second he opened his mouth to say as much, Desire stared him down, fork poised in front of his lips, and Aoba's mouth soon snapped closed.

Once the tupperware and water bottle were empty, Desire shoved them aside and raised his hands above his head with a wide yawn.

"That was great. Way better than the shit you made this morning."

Aoba almost pouted, but a light punch in the arm and an, "I'm just kidding," was enough to make him crack a smile. It was still surreal, being with Desire like this, sitting face-to-face, talking outside of his mind. Even though the circumstances surrounding the whole ordeal were less than satisfactory and more than mildly traumatic, Aoba was actually pretty happy things turned out the way they did, however it happened.


"So, Aoba..." Desire leaned forward, his eyes glinting in a way that made Aoba's stomach burn. "I think we should definitely—"


Desire's face dropped. But then, with a shake of his head and a dismissive grunt, he hopped to his feet, jammed his hands in his back pockets, and stepped to the closet. Aoba watched him, one eyebrow quirked.

"...What'cha doin'?"

"Getting ready for bed."

He threw Aoba's closet open, shifted on his feet, then promptly shut it.

"What the fuck am I supposed to sleep in?"


Desire stared at him. Then, with a little smile and a definite bounce to his step, he made his way back to Aoba's bed.

"...Naked it is."

Aoba paled.



After Granny went to bed and the sound of her snores drifting out into the hallway was constant and assured Aoba that she was dead asleep, both boys made their way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. After much red-faced, hushed arguing (at least on Aoba's part), he finally convinced Desire that sleeping naked would do both of them a disservice, and, with a good bit of struggling and cursing, managed to squeeze him into a pair of briefs. (It still wasn't ideal, but hell, Aoba would take what he could get.)

So there they stood in the bathroom, toothbrushes poised in front of their mouths, Desire mostly naked save for the tiny garment he begrudgingly wore, Aoba clothed in an oversized t-shirt that reached mid-thigh with his boxer briefs underneath.

"You're wearing too much." Desire spat in the sink; Aoba's face went red.

"You aren't wearing enough."

Desire smirked, setting his toothbrush down on the sink and turning on the faucet. "Is that a problem?" He mouthed the faucet and swished the water around in his mouth, then spit it out and turned the faucet off. Aoba sputtered, toothpaste dripping down his chin; he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

"Not at all."

Desire chuckled as he straightened up, his gaze drifting around the bathroom—and then his eyes lit up.

"Hey, Aoba…" He reached across Aoba, whose face was blank as ever, to the bottle of lotion they kept on top of the toilet. He hit the pump once, and then, with a shit-eating grin, forced his hand against Aoba's face, smearing it with white.

Aoba stared at his soiled reflection in the mirror, blinking quite a few times as it all set in. His hand drifted to his face, touching the sticky substance.

"...Was that really necessary?"

Desire grinned.


And so the war began.

Aoba, after tossing his toothbrush aside, pumped out a handful of lotion and smacked his hand against Desire's chest, smearing his entire upper torso with white, floral-scented cream while Desire stared, frozen with surprise. After a moment of recovery, Desire chortled, and, his grin increasing in size, dragged his fingers through the mess on his chest then shoved his hands under Aoba's shirt; Aoba yelped from the cold then shut his lips, worried he'd wake Granny, but then Desire's fingers began to move across his stomach, tickling him something fierce, and Aoba found himself backing against the wall, unable to help the volume of his laughter.

"Desire, stop it, damn it—"

Desire tickled him harder, his hidden hands flying over his stomach; Aoba thrashed, nearly hitting Desire in the face more than once (Desire's reflexes were good, lucky for him). But then Desire's hands took a detour.

Aoba, face red, panting hard, blinked quickly once he felt Desire's slick hands sliding up his stomach.

"What are you…?" His gaze drifted up, locking with Desire's; the glint in Desire's bright eyes made him shiver. As opposed to seconds before, where his eyes were mischievous, playful, now he looked...hungry. Starving. Aoba gulped; he knew exactly where this was going.

"Nothing," Desire said, his face drifting closer, his tongue flicking out against Aoba's lips, tracing their outline with the tip as he grinned. Aoba, breathing quite hard, trembled when those fingers barely brushed against his nipples, making his hips jerk.


"Quiet, now," Desire said, burying his face in Aoba's neck, smirking wide. "Granny's right down the hall." And then he nibbled beneath Aoba's ear, mouthing the skin with surprising gentleness, and Aoba's mind went fuzzy.

Desire's hands moved slowly, massaging Aoba's pecs with careful pressure—not too much, but not quite enough, either. As his fingers continually skirted around his nipples, pointedly avoiding any and all contact with them, Aoba worried his lip between his teeth, his breath growing shallower, his body beginning to tremble; and then, with a lazy smirk against his neck, Desire finally pinched his nipples, and Aoba whined, his head slamming back against the wall, his hips beginning to ache.

This needed to stop.

"Desire, please, you can't—" He shoved his hands against Desire's chest; Desire's breath fanned against Aoba's ear, and he sucked Aoba's earlobe into his mouth, nibbling gently, his fingers tweaking Aoba's nipples hard. "I-It's not right, Desire—stop."

And so he did.

Desire removed his hands from underneath Aoba's shirt, leaving his chest feeling cold, neglected, and immediately headed for the door as though he never had any intention of doing anything else. Aoba was stricken with shock.

But right before Desire stepped out of the bathroom, hand on the doorknob, he threw a wink over his shoulder, leaving Aoba pressed against the wall with lotion smeared across his red cheeks, his abdomen, and his chest, more confused and conflicted than ever before.

"So, where are you sleeping?"

Desire looked at Aoba like he was stupid.

"Uh, with you?"

"...Is that a good…" Aoba sighed, palm against his face. "Never mind."

And that's how they ended up sharing Aoba's twin-sized bed.

Now, after the incident in the bathroom, Aoba was entirely certain that he had just enough self-control to fend off Desire's advances if he decided to try anything else. He held a vigil for quite a good portion of the night, just waiting for Desire to make a move, knowing that the way they were pressed together was anything but innocent—but soon Desire's breath against his neck (and that in itself kept made it hard to sleep) grew deeper, more rhythmic, and his arm around Aoba's waist grew limper, heavier, less stiff. At this point, Aoba, breathing a well-deserved sigh of relief, finally let his eyes slip closed, and his mind began to drift.

And that's where he made his mistake.

When fingers began to trail down his stomach, moving so lightly it could have been Aoba's imagination, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter, determined to ignore whatever Desire had planned. When temptingly soft lips pressed against the nape of his neck, kissing it just gently enough to make him shiver, teeth barely scraping against all the places that made Aoba bite his lip the hardest, Aoba tried to distance his mind, imagine he was somewhere far, far away.

But when a tongue licked a trail right up to his ear, and the shell was bitten, sucked on, licked all over, he couldn't help but moan.

"Fuck it."

Desire threw his leg over Aoba and straddled his waist, forcing his back against the bed, the breath out of his lungs. Aoba squirmed beneath Desire, suddenly wide awake, but Desire grabbed his wrists, pinned them to the bed, and stared down at Aoba with a smirk so lustful, eyes so hooded and dark, and a laugh so sinful Aoba could hardly bear it.

"I'm so fucking hard right now, Aoba, you have no idea."

Aoba couldn't find his voice; his eyes were terrified and wide. Desire's eyebrows lifted, his head tilting to the side with mock innocence, his hair tickling his naked chest.

"What," he chuckled, "don't believe me?"

Desire grabbed Aoba's limp hand, and then, with a shuddery laugh, pressed it right against his crotch.

He was hard as a rock.

Desire chuckled again, then moaned just barely, rocking against Aoba's hand, squeezing it tighter against himself. Aoba couldn't tear his eyes away, his entire frame shaking so hard his teeth knocked together.

"I want you, Aoba," Desire moaned, his eyes slipping half-closed, still on Aoba's face. He laughed: a breathy, strained, desperate sound. "I want you so bad I can't stand it."

Aoba's throat was incredibly tight, but he, almost unconsciously, began to knead Desire's erection, shuddering when it twitched under his palm. Desire whined and threw his head back, lip caught between his teeth, then let out a silky laugh that seemed to wind around Aoba's skin, caress it in every dirty, forbidden place, make his mouth water, his hips rock forward.

"You want me too," Desire said, voice a hoarse whisper. "You want me so bad."

And then he dove forward, pausing right before Aoba's lips, his hair falling over him and Aoba like a veil. Aoba's breath hitched, his hands twitched.

"Tell me you want me, Aoba," Desire whispered, his voice filthy and naughty and everything Aoba never knew he craved. "Come on…" He urged Aoba on with a smile, his eyes dark and so, so inviting.


And with that same smile, Desire kissed Aoba so hard his mind was wiped clean.

This kiss was anything but gentle, anything but sweet, and Desire's tongue and teeth and lips were so hungry, so insistent, so adamant that Aoba was convinced he was being devoured—but his kiss was intoxicating, making Aoba's head spin, his thoughts blank out, his hips rock upwards, desperate for any sort of contact, anything, anything at all. He moaned and whimpered and whined against Desire's lips, begging not with his words but with his voice, his desperate, keening voice.

"I wanna fuck you until you scream," Desire growled between fiery kisses, "pound you into the bed, pull your hair, bite you all over—Ahh—Fuck, Aoba—"

Aoba, panting hard, squeezed and pulled and kneaded Desire's erection, somehow already too far gone to care about anything but the smell of Desire, the feeling of their sweaty skin pressed close and sliding together, and he humped against the air, his hips gyrating hard, but still met nothing that quenched his thirst even a little.

"Desire, Desire, please—"

"Already ahead of you," Desire growled, pressing one more bruising kiss against Aoba's mouth, catching his bottom lip for a moment, biting down hard with a smirk. Aoba jolted. "I'm gonna make you cum so fuckin' hard."

Aoba moaned almost pitifully—he wanted it, he wanted it so bad he couldn't think straight. But wasn't he supposed to feel guilty, wasn't he supposed to—wait, wait, he was supposed to—

"Oh my God—" His eyes shut tight, his voice a high whine when Desire was suddenly right where he wanted him, his mouth hot and moist on the fabric of his boxers, making it so wet it almost hurt to be this turned on. He kissed all over his clothed erection, tugged at the material with his teeth, sucked on the tip, swallowed him down, and then Aoba was clutching at the sheets above his head, his feet sliding against the bed because fuck this felt good, this felt right, and he wanted more he wanted more he wanted more—

As if he read his thoughts, Desire, with the darkest laugh Aoba had ever heard, tugged his boxers down—but he didn't stop there, no, he didn't stop until they were off completely, thrown halfway across the room, and he parted Aoba's legs, settled between them, inhaled Aoba's scent—his own scent—burying his face against his groin, mouthing the base of his dick, sloppy and wet and messy and disgusting but not enough.

"Desire, please, please, please—"

Desire, with a groan that made Aoba's cock twitch, suddenly bit his thigh, sucked hard, so hard Aoba squirmed, so hard Aoba's cock jerked, spraying pre-cum against his shirt, his stomach, and Aoba could do nothing more than whine, nothing more than pray that Desire would stop teasing him, Desire would stop being mean, Desire would—

And then Desire's mouth was on the tip, slurping up all his pre-cum, his eyes on Aoba, on nothing but Aoba, and he smirked around his cock and Aoba groaned because fuck that was hot, this was hot, and he wanted nothing more than to shove his dick down Desire's throat, cum on his pretty face—a face just like his, but so different, not the same—and Desire swallowed him whole.

He couldn't even make noise at this point, he was too far gone; his mouth opened and closed, his face flushed and sweaty, eyes so unfocused he couldn't see a thing other than gold, striking gold, desperate gold, and he humped against Desire's mouth, his nails scraping against the sheets and then Desire's fingers were sliding along his sweaty skin, slipping along the cleft of his ass, and they were buried between his cheeks and Aoba tensed, biting his lip so hard it blood trickled down his chin.

Desire popped off Aoba's cock just long enough to shoot him a grin, and then he shoved a finger inside, not needing any form of lubrication because Aoba was that wet, that desperate.

"Always so wet for me," Desire chuckled, his finger beginning to move, beginning to squirm all around, curl against his walls, stroking them so slowly Aoba knew he was on the brink of insanity. The sounds that echoed across the room should have made Aoba squirm, blush, cry from embarrassment, but they didn't, they only made him burn hotter, and then Desire added another finger and pounded into him so hard Aoba's body jolted back, his back curled, his voice slipped out.

"Desire, Desire, Desire—"

"Fuck yeah, moan for me, Aoba. You sound so fuckin' good." Desire's tongue dragged along Aoba's cock, but then it jerked away from his reach and he chuckled, the sound like gravel, and grabbed it with his other hand, jerking him hard, and Desire, so hard his boxers were drenched, began to slide against the bed, so horny and hot and fuckingturned onhe was reduced to nothing but a sweaty mess, humping the bed while he jerked Aoba against his face, his fingers crammed in his twitching ass, and then he licked Aoba's balls, sucking them into his mouth while jerking his cock, rolling them on his tongue, pounding his hole, and Aoba, with a cry that was much, muchtoo loud, arched away from the bed, cumming so hard he couldn't remember his name; he couldn't remember anything, nothing at all.

His cum sprayed across Desire's face and hair and Desire moaned out Aoba's name again and again, grinding against the bed faster, harder, gritting his teeth as he watched Aoba come undone by the work of his hands, his mouth, his voice, and that in itself was enough to send Desire spiralling, falling so hard he whimpered pitifully as he sprayed the inside of his briefs, shuddering so hard it nearly hurt.

And then, they began to calm.

Aoba looked like he'd just been put through the wringer, completely undone, completely wrecked, his hair plastered to his forehead, his face,and Desire was about the same. With a chuckle, he released Aoba's softening cock and slid his fingers from his ass, then dragged his own fingers across his face, collecting the cum—Aoba's cum—that had soiled him, and popped them into his mouth.

Aoba, hardly awake, panting hard, looked down at Desire as he licked his fingers, noticing the state of his hair, his face, himself, but much, much too tired, too sated to care.

"Hey, Aoba…" Desire's eyes flashed. He chuckled, crawling up Aoba's body, towering over him, licking his lips. "Look at the mess we made."

Chapter Text

Aoba awoke to the sight of a blurry silhouette slumped against the wall, knees pressed to their chest, blanket loosely wrapped around their waist, hands gripping it tight. He blinked a couple of times, his unfocused eyes drifting to the clock on his nightstand that read not quite four, then shifted his gaze back to the form he could barely make out in the dim moonlight. It took him a moment, his eyes examining the shadowy person, their shaggy blue-tinted hair that stopped mid-waist, their sloppy posture as it all became increasingly familiar…

"Desire," Aoba mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep. "Why're you awake?"

Desire jolted, his eyes wide in the dark room, solid rings of gold carving holes in the night—and then his expression softened as he slid down the wall, threw a carefree smirk onto his face to cover up whatever expression he'd just had.

"Weird dreams."

Aoba, sleep already pulling at the edges of his mind, reached out and tugged Desire back down next to him by his wrist, wrapped his arms around his waist, ran his fingers through his tangled hair, and said, with a yawn: "Don't think about it. Go back to sleep."

And then, both their eyes slipping shut, they did just that.

When Aoba awoke for the second time, the first experience was almost entirely forgotten, mixed and muddled with the dreams he'd had that night. He blinked as bleak sunlight drifted through his blinds, shone in his eyes, then peeked at the clock on his nightstand. Seven fifty-five. That meant Granny was already gone.

As he slowly sat up, the covers falling away from his shoulders, his arms stretched above his head as he yawned, he had the feeling that something was missing. And then he noticed the empty space beside him.

At at that moment, he was entirely awake.

He kicked his covers away, already sprinting for the bedroom door before his feet had a chance to touch the ground, threw the door open, and ran downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Dread settled in his stomach, heavy and nauseating, but before he had a chance to call out his eyes rested on the familiar, slumped-over, blue-haired form sitting on the couch, their eyes on the television, their face as neutral as ever. Aoba went limp with relief.

"Desire," he said, stepping into the living room, closer to the couch. He managed a weak little smile.

Desire's eyes slowly drifted away from the TV, his expression lighting up the second his gaze landed on Aoba. With a smirk, he patted the spot next to him, and Aoba stepped around the couch and plopped down.

"Sleep well?" Desire asked. Aoba nodded, slumping back against the couch. He looked at Desire for a moment; it seemed he'd gotten dressed while Aoba was asleep.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes resting on the TV, not really registering whatever they were watching. "You?"

"...More or less." And then Desire clicked the television off and hopped to his feet. Aoba watched, confusion spreading across his face. "You gotta get ready for school, right? Let me make breakfast."

After a second of blank blinking, a smirk found its way onto Aoba's face.

"You? Cooking?"

Desire's face fell into something Aoba could almost describe as a pout.

"And here I thought you liked that romantic shit."


What was he—

Aoba blinked.


Oh no.

Oh no.

Aoba's hand immediately slapped over his mouth, his eyes wide, his heart dropping fast, like a coin tossed off a building. Last night, he and Desire, they—

"Oh my God."

Desire smirked, eyes narrow and glinting not unlike last night.

"Did I jog your memory?"

"Oh, God. Oh...Oh, God." Aoba shook his head as if that would change his memories of last night, but Desire, with a shit-eating grin, only nodded.

"I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself. You were wrecked."

Aoba glared; his hand dropped into his lap.

"What part of no don't you underst—"

"Okay, listen up, Aoba." Desire slapped his hands against the back of the couch, his face stopping barely an inch from Aoba's; Aoba's eyes went wide. "The only difference between now and when I was inside of your head is that I can make you feel a hell of a lot better, as I'm sure you've already figured out." His grin was back. "Just enjoy yourself. Let me unravel you…" His fingers twirled a piece of Aoba's hair, tugging just barely. He chuckled. "I love making you moan."

Aoba's face couldn't have been any redder.

"B-But it's cheating Desi—"

"Mink doesn't have to know."

Aoba's brows furrowed; he gritted his teeth.

"I'm not like that."

Desire sighed. "...I know." His expression twisted. "But if you'd just give up on that hardass—"

"You were the one who made me go for him in the first place!"

"...Yeah, because it's what we both wanted." Desire's eyebrows drew together. "But mostly you." He snickered. "I just wanted a good fuck—you're practically in love with the bastard."

Aoba jerked his head to the side, wincing as his hair still wound around Desire's finger was tugged. Desire, with a wry little smile, released his hold.

"I'm not in love with him."

"Not yet, maybe, but you're getting there." Desire sighed, the expression on his face unusually serious. "But that doesn't mean I'm gonna give up now that I've got a chance. Hell—" His grin was back in an instant. "I know exactly where to touch..." His fingers dragged down Aoba's cheek, tickling underneath his chin, sliding over his Adam's apple. "Lick..." Leaning forward, he swiped his tongue flat up against Aoba's neck; Aoba's breath hitched, his fingers scraping his thighs. "Press..." His fingers drifted down to Aoba's chest, quickly finding his nipples, rubbing them into hard little peaks, pinching them hard through his shirt. He drew his head back slowly, his eyes almost as low as Aoba's. "Kiss…" And then his lips were against Aoba's, slow, heavy, and warm, his hand gripping Aoba's jaw, and despite his wishes Aoba found himself melting against him, into his kiss (and it was so unlike last night, so much gentler, but still so, so pleasant). And then, with a lick of his own lips, Desire pulled back, hands and all. "You can't tell me you don't like it."

Never before had Aoba felt so torn.

"But I…" He swallowed, his pulse still jumping, his head cloudier than he'd like it to be. "I like Mink."

Desire's expression was tight and aggravated, his lip curling up in the corner, exposing a razor-sharp canine—but then, as though the wheels in his head just clicked into a very, very good place, his face broke out into a full-on smile.

"Can't you like both of us?" Something glimmered in Desire's eyes—something that made Aoba's pulse race even faster. "I wouldn't mind sharing with that prick so long as I get to taste you all I want." He grinned. "The three of us could have so much fun together, Aoba, with you right in the middle."

Aoba's voice was lost for a good few moments.

"...You honestly think Mink's going to go for something like that?" Aoba finally said, blinking rapidly, his mind reeling, his face flushing fast. "After all that's happened? Really?"

"I'm sure he'll come around," Desire chuckled. "If it makes his precious Aoba happy, what does he have to lose?"

Aoba didn't want to like that idea. He didn't want to like it at all.

So he shook his head, silenced his thoughts, and pushed Desire away.

"I like Mink."

Desire's expression had never been so dark.

"No," he gritted. "You like both of us." He grabbed Aoba's collar, tugged it hard, lifting Aoba away from the couch and knocking their foreheads together so roughly Aoba yelped. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have been begging for me to touch you last night, make you cum, suck your fucking cock—"

"I get it already!" Aoba's face burned. "I was caught up in the momen—"

"Remember at school? When you came with both of our names on your slutty little lips?" Desire pecked him once, hard, his eyes trained on Aoba's. "I do."

Aoba's hands, gripping Desire's wrists, were shaking.

"I felt your pleasure when you thought of both of us together, side-by-side, doing everything dirty, depraved, fucking filthy to you." Desire kissed him again, slower, a wicked smirk on his lips. He dragged his tongue hard against Aoba's closed mouth, chuckling as Aoba shook beneath his touch, trembling like a leaf. "We can make all your fantasies come true."

And then Desire dropped Aoba's collar, making Aoba fall back against the cushions, and stepped away from the couch, his eyes slanted but still bright, hands jammed deep in his back pockets. The look on his face, the lust curling his lips, flashing in his eyes made Aoba's chest ache with a feeling so foreign he couldn't give it a name.

"Think about it."

And then, with a snicker, Desire left the room.

But Aoba couldn't stop shaking.

Aoba's mind drifted the entire day.

Desire's words played like a broken record in the back of his mind, over and over again until he had to jam his earbuds in his ears and crank up some music just to drown it all out (his teachers weren't happy about this, he was sure, but something about the look on his face must have kept him from being scolded). He was beyond confused, conflicted by Desire's words, his actions, the way he made like he couldn't stand Mink but was willing to share Aoba with the man he so hated if it meant he could have him too. Aoba couldn't understand the reasoning behind it, behind anything he did, really, but that didn't keep him from mulling it over, tasting both of their names on his tongue, wondering what it would feel like if they...if they…

He took a deep breath.

Now was not the time such thoughts.

As the last bell of the day rang, Aoba froze in his seat, headphones stowed away, the guilt that had been eating him alive since that morning growing until he thought he might actually be sick. Mink, clueless as to the thoughts speeding through Aoba's mind, began to pack up as usual as his students filtered out, his warm eyes drifting for a mere moment back to where Aoba sat. Aoba didn't return his gaze.

He'd let Desire touch him, hell, he'd begged for it, although it wasn't anything new, not really—but now Desire had his own body, his own hands, his own existence… Aoba sighed, palm against his face. He didn't know what to think anymore. All he knew was that this guilt made him feel like he was drowning, like he couldn't take a breath without crushing pressure on his chest.

"Aoba." Aoba jumped, his eyes widening when they fell onto Mink who, somehow, had managed to creep up next to his desk without drawing Aoba's attention. Mink eyed him for a moment, his lips turned down. "You're upset."

It wasn't a question; it was a statement. A statement Aoba couldn't deny.

So instead of wracking his mind for some half-assed excuse, he stared down at his desk, his eyebrows knitted, his stomach twisting, and let that serve as his answer.

Mink sighed.

"What did he do?"

Aoba's eyes began to water automatically, but he scrubbed at them with the back of his hands, and then Mink's arms were around his shoulders, the side of Aoba's face was pressed against his chest, and warm, gentle fingers were running through his hair.

Both were silent for a few moments, Aoba sniffling rather pathetically as remorse stabbed at his chest, Mink entirely silent. Mink's touch and scent that were usually nothing but comforting seemed to ramp up Aoba's guilt until it felt like hands around his neck, strangling the life out of him.

He needed to tell Mink. Mink would probably be angry, Mink would probably hate him—hell, he wouldn't have been surprised if Mink dumped him right there. With these thoughts crashing around inside his skull, making his palms sweat, his body shake, Aoba pulled away from Mink, sat up straight in his chair, and said:

"Desire kissed me." He winced, knowing that wasn't what he meant to say, knowing that wasn't even half of it. He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, clenched his fists on his thighs. "He kissed me and we...went further. A lot further." And then, his lower lip trembling terribly, Aoba sank into his seat, arms crossed tight over his chest. It felt like his grip on himself was the only thing holding him together.

Mink was silent for so long Aoba wouldn't have been surprised if he simply left the room—but then a deep sigh rang out, and Aoba's eyes pricked once again.

"...Did he force you?"

Aoba's eyes widened; and then, as if on cue, his cheeks turned red.

"...Not...exactly." Aoba cringed, barely resisting the urge to shove his head against his desk. He was an idiot—a complete and utter idiot. He wished Mink would dump him right there so he could scurry away to the bathroom and drown in self-loathing.

Mink's hand came to rest against Aoba's head, and he sighed once again; Aoba cringed worse.

"I'm not surprised."

Aoba blinked, wide eyes dragging to Mink. His face was stern, his jaw was stiff, but his eyes weren't angry or cold in the least (even if they weren't focused on Aoba, he could tell as much). If anything, they were...resigned.

"...What do you mean?"

Mink paused.

"...He was a part of you. He was inside of your body, meaning that you shared sensations, feelings, wants, and desires—" Mink's eyes went to Aoba, "—or so I'm guessing."

"That...sounds about right."

"Then I'm not surprised."

Aoba gulped. If that meant what he thought it did… He slid down in his seat, face heating up fast.

"But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

And the guilt was back tenfold.

"I'm so, so, so sorry," Aoba said, wringing his hands beneath his desk. "I shouldn't have let him convince me to, to do that, and if I could go back I—"

Mink patted Aoba on the head. "I'm sure it wasn't your fault." And then, one arm braced against Aoba's desk, Mink leaned down until they were face-to-face, his lips twitching just barely. "But you're still mine for today."

And then he pulled away, stood up straight, stepped towards the front of the room, and continued packing as though their conversation had never even happened, leaving Aoba staring in awe, his eyes pricking again but for an entirely different reason than before.

And slowly, Aoba's guilt loosened its grip on his neck.

"Are you hungry?"

Aoba nibbled his lip, twirling a piece of hair between his fingers as he stared out the car window. For some reason, just that question alone made his chest feel warm.

"...A little bit."

"Where would you like to go?"

Aoba chanced a peek at Mink; he looked much more relaxed than Aoba was used to, his face less creased, his lips less turned down than they ever usually were. He supposed that could have been a result of Desire's absence, both mental and physical. (It felt strange, but it wasn't unpleasant. Not at all.)

"It doesn't matter." He slid down in his seat a little, crossing and uncrossing his arms, trying to get more comfortable. "What about you?"

"...It doesn't matter."

Aoba snickered, and then this turned into a chuckle, which turned into a rather uproarious round of giggles. He tried to squash them by covering his face, squinting his eyes, but one look at Mink's cocked eyebrow was enough to make him laugh even harder.

When it finally died down and he thought it safe to remove his hand from his mouth, he sniffled, his eyes watering just a bit, then smiled right at Mink.

"What?" Mink asked, voice amused, lips twitching like crazy. Aoba's smile grew even bigger.

"I'm just really...happy," he said, chewing on his lip. It was embarrassing to say, but… "I'm really happy that you're giving me another chance, and just...I'm happy...I'm happy being with you." And then, convinced he'd embarrassed himself enough for one afternoon, Aoba clamped his lips shut and looked out the window.

When they pulled up to a stoplight not a minute later, Mink suddenly reached over and grasped Aoba's chin, tilting his face to his. Aoba didn't have a second to blink before warm lips were pressed against his mouth, but then they were gone and Mink was once again facing the road, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts. A blush bloomed across Aoba's face as soon as the car was moving again, and, as he sank against the seat, the smile on his face was so wide his cheeks began to sting.

Soon, they pulled into the small shopping center they'd gone to when they got coffee together, back when things were so different between them, when Mink's eyes were still cold—in Aoba's mind it seemed like ages ago, but, as he thought harder about it, it really hadn't been long at all. Amazing how quickly things had changed.

Mink pulled into a parking space, yanked his key out of the ignition, unbuckled his seatbelt, and opened his door, and Aoba scrambled do to the same. Soon he was out, snuggling deeper into his jacket as am especially cold gust of air made him shiver, and Mink came to stand right next to him, both surveying the shops and restaurants scattered around.

"Where do you want to go?"

Aoba shifted on his feet, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. He shrugged and opened his mouth to say it didn't matter, but then it closed when he realized Mink wasn't going to be the one to choose for them. He smirked.

"How about pizza? Something simple." He peeked up at Mink to see if he liked the idea, and, judging by his short nod, Aoba guessed that he did. Aoba jumped a little when he felt large, calloused fingers stroke the back of his palm, and he, the smile on his face beginning to widen, slipped his fingers out of his pocket and through the cracks in Mink's. His hands are so warm.

They headed for the little restaurant, hand-in-hand; it was extremely crowded, Aoba realized once they stepped through the door, and it took a good thirty minutes for their pizza to be ready (and Mink had paid for it, of course, no matter how much Aoba protested), during which they sat on a bench outside, Aoba's head against Mink's shoulder, their hands still clasped together. When Aoba began to complain of the cold, shivering just a bit despite Mink's warmth (and the temperature had been dropping faster and faster lately just like the leaves on the trees), Mink pulled away only to shrug his own jacket off his shoulders and drape it over Aoba's. Aoba's heart beat so fast he wouldn't have been surprised if he went into cardiac arrest right then and there, and, after a few minutes of fruitless protests, he, with a long and elated sigh, cuddled up even closer to Mink, thoroughly warm and surrounded by the scent of cinnamon. And then their pizza was ready.

Since the restaurant was so crowded, they decided to head back to Mink's house to eat. Once there, they stepped into the kitchen (and Aoba took his time perusing it in all its rustic glory, seeing as he'd never been this deep inside of Mink's home before), then made their way to the wooden table in the dining room. Mink set the pizza box onto it then grabbed a couple of plates from the cabinets while Aoba offered to help; Mink only looked at him and gave a small shake of his head, and that was enough to quiet Aoba's voice.

Soon they sat at the table in comfortable silence, and it wasn't long until half of the pizza was gone, their dishes were in the sink, and both were headed into other parts of the house. Instead of stopping in the living room like Aoba expected, they walked right past it and continued on into the hallway, walking until they reached a door near the end. Aoba had expected it to be a bedroom—and the thought made his heart leap, his stomach twist—but it turned out to be something like a den with a well-worn couch that looked much more comfortable than the one in the living room, a small television, and a little coffee table.

"Would you like to watch something?" Mink asked as they stepped inside, causing Aoba's attention to break away from surveying the room. He nodded.


And so they flipped through the channels for a couple of minutes as they settled in, bodies pressed close on the comfortable brown couch, thighs touching, Aoba's throat growing tight when he fully realized their situation, the intimacy of it all, of everything now that they were truly alone. Mink's hand drifted down to his leg, and Aoba stiffened as his fingers trailed up until they reached his hand, winding together perfectly with his own, and Aoba let out a shaky sigh.

He didn't know when it happened, exactly, but soon enough they were lying down, Aoba's back to Mink's front, watching television in what Aoba was convinced had to be the most comfortable position imaginable (even if his heart was going a little bit crazy). He shifted closer to Mink, shuddering just barely as Mink's hand wound tighter around his waist, squeezed a little harder; he could almost imagine Desire's commentary, Desire saying how badly Mink probably wanted to turn him around and kiss him, pin him to the couch and ravage him…

Aoba didn't realize his thoughts had taken such a turn until Mink shifted again—and then, with a look of utter mortification, he realized that his own body had begun to react to something as simple as his thoughts. He clenched his eyes and teeth, then opened his eyes slowly, his gaze drifting back to the television.

But Mink was right behind him, Mink was so warm, Mink's chest was so hard, so broad, his hands were so tempting, his breath was hot, so, so hot, right against Aoba's ear… Aoba squeezed his thighs tight as he felt his body react even further, his eyebrows knitting together, and he almost let out a moan when Mink shifted behind him once again, pressing their bodies so close Aoba could feel the outline of his chest, his legs, everything.

He breathed out Mink's name, his eyes bulging wide when he realized it, his lower lip soon trapped between his teeth, sinking in hard. He felt Mink stiffen behind him, but then his hand was rubbing Aoba's chest, and Aoba shuddered.

"What is it?" Mink said, and it could have been Aoba's imagination but he sounded like he was teasing, like he knew exactly what was going through Aoba's head—but his voice was so deep, with a rugged hint that was so unusual for him Aoba knew he wasn't the only one suffering from dirty thoughts.

"We're all alone," was all Aoba managed to say, hoping that would be enough to get his point across, hoping he wouldn't be forced to elaborate. He squeezed his eyes shut as a shuddered breath fanned against his ear, making his skin prickle with goosebumps.

"So we are." Mink's hand drifted down again, closer to the part that was beginning to throb, closer to where Aoba wanted to feel Mink the most—but then his hand slipped under his shirt, warm and rough against Aoba's skin.

"Mink," he breathed as that hand slid up farther, slowly, almost lovingly caressing his stomach, his chest; Aoba arched into the touch like a cat with a sultry little whine, his hand gripping the cushion underneath his head, the other clawing at the couch. Mink's fingers, deft and careful, rubbed against Aoba's nipple, and Aoba groaned, his eyes slipping closed, his body beginning to burn. He wanted to face Mink, he wanted to see him, he wanted to...

But then Mink was mouthing the base of Aoba's neck, his breath staggered, hot, moist, and Aoba shivered almost violently, Mink's name coming out again as his nipple was rolled between Mink's fingers, his rough, warm, wonderful fingers. He held his breath when Mink pulled him closer again, seeing as he'd begun to drift towards the pressure of his hand, and felt that Mink was getting hard, Mink wanted him.

He shifted against Mink's erection, drawing a groan from deep in the man's throat, a sound Aoba never expected to hear. It made Aoba's stomach coil, made him begin to sweat, and he did it again, harder, earning a harsh pinch of his nipple, a lick of his ear, and then he was shivering and moaning and Mink's hand had left his shirt and was now grasping his hip, digging in just barely, holding him tighter against himself as their hips moved together, grinding hard and slow.

Mink's rough pants fell onto the shell of Aoba's ear, wracking his body with shiver after shiver though he was hardly cold, far, far from it, and soon the urge to see Mink's face, to feel Mink fully was too intense, too hopelessly overpowering to ignore.

"Mink—" He gasped when suddenly Mink's hand was on his groin, squeezing him tight, and his body arched forward only to be dragged back again, pressed against Mink's throbbing heat, and Aoba felt too deliciously muddled to complain; he only gyrated harder, whimpering as Mink's fingers toyed with him, nails scraping against his cock, making Aoba bite his lip, writhe and wish that they weren't wearing so many clothes, that they could be closer, that they—

And then Mink's heat was gone.

Aoba scarcely had time to blink before his shoulder was pressed down and he was lying back against the couch, staring Mink straight in the face, Mink's arms braced on either side of his head, his ebony hair falling down, tickling the side of Aoba's face. Their eyes locked; Mink's pupils were dilated, his eyes hooded, his gaze so full of longing Aoba felt like he was something sacred, something so, so special, and then Mink kissed him full-on, but it wasn't hard, or lustful, or desperate, or any of the things Aoba had been expecting—it was soft, and careful, and so sweet and hot and loving Aoba's entire body felt weak.

Mink's lips opened wide and Aoba's followed suit, their tongues meeting each other slowly, sliding together in a way that wrenched a moan deep from Aoba's chest, made his legs wind around Mink's waist, pressing them closer, as close as they could get on this tiny little couch with all of their clothes blocking the way, making everything more difficult than it needed to be. Mink chuckled against Aoba's lips, in Aoba's mouth, and then Aoba's eyes drifted open as Mink pulled away, his lips growing farther, too far, much too far from his. Aoba almost groaned.

Mink leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Aoba's forehead, pushing his bangs away from his face, letting out a staggered breath.

"...Is it alright?"

"I-Is what…" Aoba swallowed hard. "...Is what alright?"

Mink grasped the side of his face, his thumb stroking a trail down his cheek, over his lips, over his chin. Aoba whimpered.

"I want to erase his scent from your skin."

Aoba's pupils dilated; his groin gave a violent throb. After a moment, a playful little smirk found its way onto his wet lips and he wound his hands through Mink's hair, tugging him closer, so close their lips almost met, but not quite. As he breathed against Mink's mouth, he stared into Mink's eyes, his eyes that were so warm, so inviting, so helplessly captivating; and as their lips finally pressed together again, he whispered:

"Then do it."


Chapter Text

Aoba was burning.

As Mink kissed him hard and wet and picked him up off the couch, Aoba's legs winding tight around his waist, their foreheads pressed together, eyes low, locked, glassy, Aoba's entire body was on fire, sizzling hot. He groaned at the rocking movement of their bodies as Mink walked them out of that room and into another, his fingers and nails digging into Mink's back, his lips immediately attaching to his neck, sucking, licking, nibbling as Mink's low grunts fell onto his ears, Mink's hands squeezing his ass tight, making Aoba shiver over and over again, goosebumps peppering his skin. He squirmed against Mink's chest, whining, pressing forward, pressing back—and then they were in a bedroom, Mink's bedroom, and Aoba was tossed onto a soft bed, surrounded by Mink's scent, and Mink was towering over him on his hands and knees, panting, his golden eyes flashing in the waning light.

And then Mink's lips were on Aoba's once again and Aoba, with fingers shaking so terribly he could hardly get a grip, hastily began to unbutton Mink's shirt, groaning as Mink's slick tongue slipped into his mouth, slid all around, rubbed against his own, and he jolted when Mink lowered his groin to his so that they were perfectly aligned and grinding together so slow and hard it almost hurt.

"Mink—" Their lips broke away for barely a second, Aoba's eyes low, his mouth open wide. "Please, Mink, I can't—it won't—" He tugged at Mink's shirt, and Mink, with a chuckle so low and ragged it was almost a growl, pulled back, his fingers flying over his shirt with ease, his eyes hooded, his gaze intense and on nothing, nothing but Aoba.

Aoba shivered, his eyes riveted by the movements of Mink's nimble fingers, the dexterity, the finesse with which his shirt was unbuttoned, shrugged off, and tossed aside, leaving nothing to Aoba's imagination, making him whimper under his breath and reach forward and run his palms flat down Mink's chest, feeling the wiry muscle bulging beneath his tanned, rugged skin, making him think himself almost scrawny, inferior until his eyes caught Mink's again. His heart thumped, his body jolted from the electricity that ran over his skin, and then Mink's fingers were bunching his shirt and lifting it above his head and Aoba sat up rather awkwardly, whimpering as the coarse fabric dragged against his oversensitized skin only to be tossed aside not a second later; now it was Mink's turn to stare, to touch, and Aoba groaned, burying his face in Mink's neck, shivering as Mink's fingers once again found his nipples, twisting, teasing, and Aoba breathed against his neck, nipped a little too hard, and then he was pushed back against the bed and Mink was working on his belt, his hands just a little clumsier than a moment before.

Aoba held his breath as his belt was unfastened, the button of his jeans was popped, the zipper was pulled down; and then his pants were tugged over his hips, his thighs, along with his boxers, and he looked away, embarrassment making his cheeks flush even darker, his heart thump even harder.

"D-Don't look," he said as his pants were tugged over his ankles, tossed aside; but Mink only rested his hands against Aoba's knees, pushing them down onto the bed with the lightest pressure, the smallest bit of coaxing. Aoba's legs fell open completely, leaving him entirely exposed from head to toe, and he squinted his eyes, bunched handfuls of the blanket between his fingers, chewed on his lip.

"Why not?" In an instant Mink's lips were right next to Aoba's ear; Aoba shivered, bit his own lip even harder. "Don't hide anything from me."

As if those words poured gasoline onto the fire burning inside of him, Aoba's eyes locked with Mink's yet again and he laced his fingers through Mink's hair, tugging his mouth to his, kissing him much more desperately than before, each and every one of his choked out moans and whimpers swallowed down by Mink who kissed him back ten times harder, ten times better.

His eyes had begun to slip closed but they flew open when suddenly Mink's fingers were wrapped around his stiff and throbbing cock, tugging, his fingers running up and down his length with slippery ease. Aoba had to break away, pant, and tilt his head back, his eyes closed, his voice nearly lost from the unexpected pleasure, the unexpected heat pooling in his stomach, making his balls tighten, his cock twitch again and again against Mink's palm. Whimpering, he tugged Mink's hair hard, and suddenly Mink's lips were on his neck, his collarbones, his chest, sucking, licking, tasting, his fingers still twisting over his cock, thumbing the dripping wet head, the other coming up to Aoba's chest, making Aoba's knees shake, his voice come out in short, harsh, whispered pleas for more, more, more.

Granting his wish, Mink's hands were suddenly gone; Aoba's eyes cracked open and he tried to sit up, but then he was pushed against the bed by two rough palms and Mink leaned back and unbuttoned his own pants, his eyes still fixed on Aoba's flushed, sweaty, arousal-twisted face—and Aoba couldn't help but stare right back, couldn't help the way his mouth went dry, couldn't help the way his body trembled with the desire for this man, the yearning to feel their sweaty, overheated skin pressed together as soon as possible.

"Please hurry," he choked out, his hands twitching against the covers, his body itching with impatience. He shivered as Mink's hot gaze caressed his body, slowly, lovingly, only to rest back on his face, his eyes so much darker than usual, absolutely ridden with longing, but still so warm they made Aoba's heart stutter, his throat tighten up. And then Mink was pulling down his pants, and his cock, hard and thick and red and enough to make Aoba moan so whorishly he should have been ashamed, sprang up against his abdomen, thick beads of pre-cum dripping down his shaft, making it glisten, and Aoba, his own cock pulsing, twitching, on fire was suddenly on his hands and knees, suddenly crawling closer to Mink, suddenly grasping his length, stroking it, breathing against the tip, all while his eyes were trained on Mink's face, Mink's dark and glassy eyes, Mink.

Mink grunted, his hands immediately gripping Aoba's hair, almost tugging him back but then Aoba's lips parted and his tongue darted out, lapping slowly, twirling around the head, teasing it, drinking down his pre-cum and shivering and shaking when Mink's eyes slipped closed, his head tilted back; and then he was guiding Aoba closer, closer to his pulsing cock, and Aoba was more than happy to oblige.

He suckled on the mushroom tip like candy, his tongue dragging flat along it then diving into the slit, a moan building in his throat at how sweet, how delicious Mink tasted, and then his other hand reached up, caressing Mink's heavy balls, rolling them in his palm, and Mink grunted again, louder, his teeth gritted, eyebrows drawn together.

But then, so suddenly Aoba cried out, he was shoved off Mink's dick, pushed back against the bed, Mink heavy and hot against his chest, making his body tingle, his groin throb when their wet cocks barely brushed together.

"You're going to have to take responsibility for that," Mink breathed against Aoba's ear, suddenly biting the shell so hard it should have hurt but it didn't, it felt amazing, and Aoba wrapped his legs around Mink's waist, rocking his hips up, gyrating against him, his arms around Mink's back, his body arching upwards, wanting to be close, so close, so much closer.

"Please, Mink, please—I'll take responsibility, I'll do anything, anything, just—" And then Mink kissed him harder than he had all night, his teeth nipping Aoba's lip, his tongue as he growled, and Aoba was a shuddering, shivering, drooling mess under the work of his lips and soon his hands when he wedged one between them, grasping their cocks, stroking hard, squeezing tight.

And then Mink pulled back, leaving Aoba shuddering against the covers, his hair splayed out on the pillow behind him, drool dripping down his chin, sweat sliding down his reddened cheeks, and Mink sat back, sliding his pants off completely, leaving him entirely naked: a feast for Aoba's eyes.

"Mink…" Aoba spread his legs a little wider, his face burning hotter but his mind too fuzzy for him to care. "Please."

Mink took a staggered breath, his eyes narrowing, muscles tensing, his chest expanding then collapsing hard; and then his eyes drifted down, down to Aoba's cock that was so red and swollen and wet it looked painful, then down to his thigh, where a dark purple bruise had blossomed, courtesy of Desire. Aoba's eyebrows knitted together when he noticed the flash of anger on Mink's face, but then Mink arched forward, his lips resting against Aoba's other thigh, his gaze honing in on Aoba's glazed-over eyes, and his teeth digging into Aoba's flesh.

Aoba cried out in a voice so sweet Mink visibly shuddered, his body curling away from the bed, hands flying up to grip the pillow on either side of his head, and he thrashed at the suction of Mink's lips, the bruising pressure of his teeth, the pain that only seemed to make him want Mink so, so much more than he already did.

"Mink!" His voice was a high-pitched wail; his chest felt tight, wonderfully tight, and his cock jerked so hard he almost came. "God, oh God, Mink—"

And then Mink pulled back, breathing hard, pupils so blown out he looked enraged. He crawled up Aoba's body, his hair falling over both of them, then tilted Aoba's chin with two fingers, gazing at the unraveled mess he'd become. He chuckled: a dark, uneven, arousing sound, and leaned over Aoba and towards the nightstand, reaching for something Aoba couldn't see until it was held in front of his face.

He blinked a few times, his mind clearing just enough for confusion to cut through, his eyes drifting to Mink's face as opposed to asking outright. Mink only smiled, a small curl of his lip, then unscrewed the top of a little tub he was holding and dipped his fingers inside, scooping up a smooth, white substance, then setting the container on the bed beside them. The smell of flowers hit Aoba's nose, reminding him vaguely of the cream Mink had given him for his hair; but something about the smell of this was hotter, muskier, different from the light, summery smell of Mink's gift.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, his voice rugged; Aoba shivered, but nodded once only to tense up as Mink's fingers drifted down, briefly sliding against his cock which twitched under the touch, only to drift down farther until they pressed against Aoba's clenching hole. Aoba held his breath as Mink's fingers pressed against it, and then Mink's other hand grasped the side of his face, pushing aside some of his sweat-damp hair.

"Relax," he murmured, and Aoba, suddenly embarrassed at his own unconscious apprehension, tried his best to do just that; and when he did, Mink's finger easily slid inside, causing Aoba to arch up against Mink's sweaty torso. Never before, even when it was his own fingers touching himself there had it felt so slick, so hot, so good right from the beginning.

He groaned, spreading his legs even wider as Mink's thick finger slid deeper, so far Aoba's breath caught, his eyebrows knitted together; never before had he felt anything reach so deep inside him, so wonderfully deep. And then that finger was leaving, pulling out slow, and Aoba clenched around it, not wanting it to go so soon; Mink chuckled under his breath, then pushed his finger back inside until it was completely swallowed, completely encased by Aoba's heat. Aoba jolted.


He gritted his teeth, his face scrunching up, his eyebrows twitching when Mink pulled out just barely, his finger pressing against something inside of Aoba, something that made Aoba's toes curl against the bedspread.

"Feel good?" Mink, with a dark glint in his eyes, pressured against that place again, rubbing his finger back-and-forth fast, making Aoba jerk his head in a quick nod.

"So…" He whined when Mink did it again even harder, one of his legs sliding down, collapsing against the bed, the other still bent, his ass angled up. "So good." He rolled his hips upwards, his cock leaking a steady stream of pre-cum onto his stomach, mixing with his sweat. Mink's other hand wrapped around Aoba's cock, giving him a quick jerk, making him drip all over Mink's hand. Aoba actually screamed.

Mink, with drooping eyes, slowly (so, so slowly), withdrew his finger only to bring another up to Aoba's hole, teasing the twitching rim then slipping it inside, cramming it next to the other with a wet squish. Aoba's mouth was open wide, his eyes unfocused, blankly staring at the ceiling as Mink scrambled his mind to bits.

Those fingers scissored inside of him, spreading him wide, wider than he'd ever felt before, still reaching deep, so deep Aoba swore he never knew pleasure like this existed, and then they were twisting, stirring him up, and he tossed his head against the pillow, gripping it tight, his face tensing up worse, his voice spilling out more until he was so close to cumming he could taste it.

"S-Stop!" he cried out, his hand suddenly gripping Mink's, stilling his movement along his cock. Mink's fingers paused inside of him as well, his face scrunched with worry and confusion. Aoba could hardly make out his face, not with how blurry his eyes were, but he swallowed hard, the action hurting his throat with how dry it was, then said in a voice so ragged it hardly sounded like his own: "I-I'm gonna...cum."

Mink's lips lifted, his fingers withdrawing as he sustained eye contact with Aoba, making Aoba's legs tremble.

"Understood." His lips curled even more, his face tight with unrestrained longing, no shred of his usual reserved self left in his hungry expression. His fingers dipped into the cream once again, smearing it down his cock, and the smallest, deepest moan slipped out of his lips; the sound made Aoba whimper. And then he reached over Aoba, grabbing a pillow from beside his head and lifted Aoba's hips, pushing it underneath his ass; the action made Aoba quirk a small smile, his chest fluttering at the consideration for his comfort. And then Aoba had to bite his lip as one leg was hoisted over Mink's shoulder and two hands were spreading his ass; the embarrassment, the exhilaration of knowing Mink was looking at that place, a place he never wanted anyone to see made his hole twitch, just begging to be filled. Mink, with a heavy, broken breath, looked to Aoba's face.

"Are you ready?"

Aoba nodded without a second thought.

And so Mink, with an almost pained sigh, began to push inside.

At first, it felt like Aoba was being split in two, and he cried out, gripping the cushion above his head, tears automatically springing to his eyes; it was painful, so, so painful, but when Mink stopped moving Aoba stared at him and found him looking worried, apprehensive, and it only made Aoba's determination stronger.

"Keep going," he rasped, smiling just barely. "I can take it."

Mink still paused for a moment, his eyebrows tight, eyes searching Aoba's face.

"...You've never done this before."

Aoba, blinking fast, nodded once.

"N-No, I...haven't." He looked away, chewing on his lip. And then Mink grabbed his cheek, turned his face back to his, and gave him a smile so sincere Aoba's heart just about stopped.

"I'm glad." And then he kissed Aoba softly, their lips moving together with feather-light pressure, and began to push inside once again. Aoba tensed, his face screwing up in pain, but let out a harsh breath against Mink's mouth as he felt himself begin to give way, Mink's cock begin to slide inside, spreading him wide open. The stretch burned terribly, but just knowing that it was Mink was enough to make the pain more than worth it.

And once Mink was fully inside, his pelvis pressed against Aoba's ass, balls resting against the cleft, Aoba let out a shaky, pained sigh—he knew he was stretched to his limit. He wound his arms around Mink's neck, pulling him down for a deeper kiss, and Mink, his arms shaking just barely as they rested against the bed next to Aoba's head, reciprocated with enough passion to distract Aoba from the uncomfortable tingling burn that still persisted.

They stayed like that for a couple of moments, their kisses gradually becoming hungrier and louder and wetter until Aoba began to moan once again, wiggling his hips, and Mink nipped at his lip, growling against his mouth, his cock twitching inside of Aoba, making Aoba groan and tug at Mink's hair.

"Move," he said—no, more like commanded. "I want to feel you. All of you."

And so Mink, with yet another growl against Aoba's lips, pulled out slowly, making Aoba groan and toss his head back against the pillow, his thighs twitching, legs shaking at the feeling of Mink's cock dragging against his inner walls, so slick, hot, and wet he felt like he'd go crazy from the overstimulation.

And then, Mink plunged back inside.

"Hah!" Aoba cried out, toes curling, mouth wide. Mink withdrew once again, almost to the tip, one hand on Aoba's hip and the other on the thigh resting on his shoulder, holding him steady; then he slammed back in and Aoba writhed so desperately Mink pinned his wrists down above his head with one hand while the other gripped his thigh harder, a lusty smirk on his face as he pounded into Aoba, making Aoba mumble incoherently, swear up a storm as he moaned, his fingers gripping the sheets as much as he could with the way Mink was holding his wrists, making his mind swim, making his body feel like he was floating from the near-painful amount of pleasure coursing through his veins, washing over his entire body.

"Hah—ah—ah—" His voice was loud and broken, and then Mink began to move harder, gyrating his hips in a wide circle as he pressed against Aoba's ass, so close there wasn't any space left before pulling out again and slamming back inside, the wet sounds their bodies made as they collided filling up the room, filling up Aoba's mind along with the scent of flowers, making his cock pulse, his ass squeeze Mink's cock, pull him in deeper, so deep Aoba couldn't breathe. Aoba felt full, so, so full, completely stuffed to the brim, and he loved it—he couldn't believe he'd gone so long without feeling Mink this way, so deeply, so completely.

"Mi—i—ink—" Aoba's mouth was wide, tears slipping down his cheeks, mingling with the sweat already there. He tugged at his wrists, wishing they were free. "C-Closer—"

Mink, with a grunt and an especially hard thrust, leaned down, taking his hand off of Aoba's wrists, clutching Aoba's hip yet again; Aoba immediately wrapped his arms back around his neck, his hips meeting Mink's every thrust as he groaned and whimpered and panted right against Mink's ear.

"Feeling it?" Mink asked, voice a baritone growl, his hips smacking harder, faster, Aoba's leg almost crushed against his chest from how close they were pressed together.

Aoba nodded desperately, mouth opening and closing, reduced to nothing but a mess of shivers and whimpers and moans.

"Feels s-ohh—" Aoba shuddered violently, his voice catching in his throat, his cock twitching against Mink's hard stomach, sliding against it every time they moved, lubricated by a mixture of pre-cum and sweat. "So...good—" He clenched his eyes and teeth, shivering harder, his hips moving more, whimpers falling out of his open lips and landing on Mink's ear.

Mink grunted hard, his own body tensing up, his cock spasming inside of Aoba, making Aoba jerk with a moan so loud it bordered on a scream. Mink's breath shuddered out against Aoba's ear, and with a short, dark chuckle, he said: "You're close, aren't you?"

And then Aoba couldn't think, couldn't function, tightening so hard around Mink's cock Mink grunted in surprise, his head falling against Aoba's shoulder, buried in his hair, his own voice beginning to heighten in volume as Aoba's leg fell off his shoulder, wrapping around his waist, his hips rising, pulling him in even deeper.

"Aoba," Mink grunted, slamming into him with so much force Aoba was knocked backwards on the bed only to be pulled back yet again, his ass twitching and gripping Mink's cock like a glove. Aoba cried out so loudly his voice echoed off the walls, and then his stomach was coiling, his balls were tensing up, his cock was spasming against Mink's hard stomach and he came, spraying both of their chests with his cum, crying out Mink's name like a mantra until his throat was raw, and Mink was trying to pull away, trying to pull out but Aoba locked his thighs around his waist and, with a grunt of his name, Mink came, his seed sloshing around inside of Aoba, making everything even slicker as he continued to thrust through both of their orgasms until Aoba's vision went white and he whimpered.

And then, slowly, they collapsed against the bed, both wet, panting, sweaty messes, coiled so closely and wound together so tightly the heat was near stifling—but Aoba didn't want to pull away, didn't want to lose this warmth just yet, so he clutched Mink tighter, nuzzling against his neck (although his hair was plastered to it), still in a daze.

Mink supported the brunt of his weight with one hand against the bed as both of them breathed heavily, caught in the blissful afterglow, bodies so close Aoba couldn't tell where one stopped and the other began. His ass was beginning to hurt and the feeling of wetness coating his insides was less than comfortable, but he smiled at the thought that it was Mink inside of him, and that instantly chased the pain away.

"Mink," he whispered, smiling against his neck. "That felt...amazing."

Mink chuckled, his chest rumbling and sharing vibrations with Aoba, then pulled back just a bit, Aoba's arms falling from around his neck, his dick sliding out of Aoba's ass with ease. Aoba's sharp intake of breath made Mink's face crease, but then Aoba smiled, his face resting against Mink's cheek, pulled him closer, and kissed him softly, smiling against Mink's lips.

"I'm fine," he said as though he'd read Mink's thoughts, pulling a hair's breadth away. "I'm happy."

And then Mink kissed him again, just a little bit harder, and whispered: "So am I." Aoba's heart fluttered as Mink pulled away, and Aoba immediately missed his warmth, missed him, but then Mink stood and it was beyond the power of Aoba's self-control to pull his eyes away from his sweaty, glistening body.

He really was in amazing shape, Aoba thought as he watched him leave the room, head into the hall, his eyes trailing behind him. Within a few short seconds Mink returned, damp towel in hand, and sat back on the bed.

"Sorry," he muttered as the bed sank beneath his weight, his eyes drifting down, between Aoba's legs, to the little puddle beginning to form on the pillow beneath him. Aoba blinked, and then, immediately, embarrassment hit him all at once.

"I-It's fine." He closed his legs, staring at the wall. "I wanted" He squeezed his eyes shut, humiliation settling deep in his stomach.

Mink took a shuddering breath, then snorted out a short laugh and began to clean off Aoba's stomach, making Aoba blush even harder. And when the towel rubbed between Aoba's legs, over his soft cock, down to his ass, his legs falling open automatically, he shivered, biting his lip, that heat already beginning to return, making him want Mink so badly he almost reached forward and pulled him close again.

And then, from somewhere in the room, his phone began to ring.

His eyes were huge as the familiar ring tone bounced off the walls, and he locked eyes with Mink for barely a second before he was on his feet, jerking his head around, searching for his pants with speed that startled even himself.

After a moment of internal panicking he noticed his pants near the foot of the bed and breathed out a short sigh of relief, then kneeled and shoved his hand in one of the pockets, pulling his phone out fast. He slammed his finger against the answer button and held the phone to his ear, only to have it blown out not even a second later.

"Aoba, where the hell are y—"


His palm met his face so hard it stung.

He heard Granny take a deep breath on the other end, and could almost imagine the vein in her forehead pulsing, the tendons in her neck standing out as she barely kept herself from exploding.

"...You're at this man's house again...alone?"

"Y-Yes, but—" Aoba took a deep breath, wracking his mind for any plausible excuse. "W-We just got here, and we went out for dinner—and, and—" He paused. "...I'll be home soon."

Granny sighed. "...You're an adult, Aoba, but you bare—"

"I know, I know." Aoba combed his fingers through his hair, grimacing at how sweaty it felt. "I barely know him. But dates are how you get to know people better, right?"

Granny sighed again.

"Just come home. Dinner is almost ready."

And then she hung up.

Mink came up behind Aoba as Aoba lowered his phone from his ear with a heavy sigh, and patted him on the head, mussing his hair up even worse.

"Get dressed," he said, leaning down and pecking Aoba on the temple. "I'll take you home."

By the time Aoba made himself look halfway decent, throwing his tussled hair into a sloppy bun on the top of his head (and really, halfway was a stretch with how disgusting he felt), twenty minutes had already passed since Granny's call—and never before was he more glad that Mink lived not even ten minutes away.

Mink kissed him hard before he got out of the car, and Aoba almost got caught up in it, almost started to moan and pull Mink closer, but then Mink pushed him away with the smallest chuckle, pecked him on the forehead, and told him to have a good night.

Now came the hard part.

Aoba steeled himself with a deep breath, hand on the doorknob, then pushed it open, wincing as his eyes immediately fell onto Granny who sat in the living room, a mug in her hands, the TV casting flickers of artificial light on her face. He muttered out an, "I'm home," and she snorted, bringing the mug to her lips as her eyes barely graced him, and Aoba took that as his cue to leave.

So he climbed the stairs one-by-one, clutching the straps of his backpack tight, and soon he reached his bedroom door. He opened it quickly then tossed his backpack into the corner of his room, but before he had a chance to turn on his light or even so much as blink he was slammed against his door, staring into eyes that were bright, much too bright in the pitch black of his room.

A hand gripped his jaw and he winced, gritting his teeth at the force used—and then a voice, so deep and dark and pissed his entire body went cold, growled out:

"Where the fuck were you?"

Chapter Text

"Where the fuck were you?"

Aoba could hear his heart in his ears, feel it in his throat, and he swallowed hard as those bright golden eyes bored into his, filled to the brim with a fury he never could have imagined.

"I was…" He squeezed his eyes shut, finally escaping that piercing, infuriated gaze. He took a deep breath. "I was with Mink."

Desire, with a noise of disgust, whipped his hand away from Aoba's chin; Aoba's own hand came up to rub it, wincing just the smallest bit.

"Of course you fuckin' were," Desire said, his voice a low hiss. And then he was even closer, his body pressed fully against Aoba's, one arm braced against the door, his nose buried against Aoba's throat. Aoba held his breath, frozen stiff. He felt Desire's lips curl against his skin. "I can smell the sex on you. I can smell him on you. You fucking reek."

And then sharp pain shot through Aoba's neck, making him cry out, his eyes flying wide open. As his mind reeled he jammed his hands between Desire and himself, trying his hardest to shove him off, but Desire held on tight, forcing Aoba's arms against the door with bruising, painful pressure, his fingers like a vice around Aoba's wrists, his body crushing him against the door. His teeth sank in deeper until the point of breaking skin with a sickening pop, making Aoba whimper from how badly it stung, tears pricking at his eyes, his entire body shaking hard. With a weak groan Aoba brought his knee up and rammed it against Desire's stomach as hard as he could; Desire jolted a few steps back as he sputtered from surprise more than anything else, a little trail of blood dribbling down his chin, coating his lips. His eyes flashed in a way that made Aoba's entire body feel cold, and he licked his lips with a grin, eyes terrifying and wide.

"You wanna fight, huh?" He brought his fists up, beckoned Aoba closer, staring at him down the bridge of his nose. "Bring it on."

Aoba clenched his fists against the door and shook his head hard. "I'm not fighting you!" With a wince, he clutched at his neck, grimacing when it felt wet. "What the fuck is your problem?!"

"That fucking asshole is my goddamn problem, Aoba!" Desire yelled, probably a good bit too loud. And then, his face twisting up, half-hidden by shadows and twitching with fury, he leapt forward and swung his fist at Aoba's face.

Aoba, eyes gone wide, narrowly avoided taking a hit straight to the jaw, blocking Desire's blow with his arm, wincing at the impact—but then Desire swung again with his left hand, connecting against Aoba's shoulder with much more force than Aoba ever expected, and Aoba, with a groan, stumbled back against the door, cursing under his breath, one hand clutched over his shoulder.

The room was dark, too dark to make out much more than shadows, and he blindly groped along the wall for the lightswitch, squinting when he finally managed to flip it. Desire hissed, eyes narrowed, and took an automatic step back—but then Aoba lunged, gripping Desire's wrists, forcing him across the room and slamming him against the opposite wall.

Desire jerked, swearing at the top of his lungs, thrashing under Aoba's grip; Aoba barely avoided multiple violent kicks, but then he pressed his forehead against Desire's, looked him straight in the eyes, and held him harder.

"Calm down!" he said, grimacing as Desire finally managed to land a kick against his leg, then another, then another. Desire panted hard, screaming obscenities right in Aoba's face, slamming the sole of his foot against the wall over and over again until Aoba was sure he'd broken right through from the terrible thumping alone—and then rapid, heavy footsteps were on the stairs, Aoba's face drained of all color, and Desire, after one last vicious curse, went entirely silent.

The door was flung open so hard it slammed against the wall, and Granny's shrill voice rang out, slicing through the air like a knife—but then, after less than a second, the sound died in her throat. Neither Aoba nor Desire had to look at her to imagine the look on her face, and Aoba's eyes slipped closed, his heart dropping fast.

"Downstairs. Now."

And then the door was slammed.

Aoba let go of Desire whose fit seemed to have passed, grunting in disgust, and glared at him hard.

"Look what you did," he gritted, pushing his hair out of his face and away from his wet neck as he stepped back, his eyebrows scrunched severely, his hair slipping out of the bun on his head. Desire, anger drained away, stared down at the floor, hands twitching against the wall. He almost looked guilty.

"You left me all alone," he muttered, and when he looked at Aoba again his eyes were blank, dead, every shred of bright fury drained right out. Suddenly, Aoba's own anger was gone, replaced by something so heavy and terrible he felt sick.


Aoba winced, wondering how on Earth his grandmother managed to inject that amount of volume into her voice—it seemed to cut through all the walls, pound right against his ears.

"Looks like we've got some explaining to do," he muttered, reaching for Desire's hand, his face softening fast. Desire, his eyes barely sparking, lifted his own hand only to smack Aoba's away.

"Fuck off."

And then he brushed right past Aoba, and walked out the door.

"So this is...Desire?"

Aoba, fingers drumming against the dining room table, nodded.


Granny's eyes drifted from Aoba's face to Desire's, but Desire didn't glance her way; he was too busy staring down the table, his arms crossed tight, blank face hidden behind his bangs and hood.

Granny sighed loud and long.

"...And how did this come about? Last time I checked, he was a voice inside of your head...and he didn't have a name." She took a sip out of her mug, her eyes back on Aoba, then lowered it slowly. "I thought he went away."

"Well…" Aoba sighed, drooping forward. "He popped up again a few weeks ago."

Granny's eyes widened, her eyebrows arching high. "And you didn't tell me?"

Aoba sighed again, elbow against the table, hand running through his bangs. He grimaced; he needed a shower. Badly. "He wouldn't let me."

Granny's eyes, narrowing fast, drifted back to Desire. Desire huffed.

"Being shoved inside a little box in the back of Aoba's mind fuckin' sucked," he muttered, finally speaking, "so I broke out. And I wasn't gonna let anyone shove me back in." His eyes flashed as he lifted them to Granny, and he smirked without a hint of mirth. Granny's eyebrows creased.

"But how…" She leaned back in her chair, her eyes drifting between the two of them. "How did he end up in his own body?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Aoba said, voice quiet. "He and Mink got into a...fight...and he made us—I something, and then Desire was gone."

Granny paused.

"...And this happened last weekend?"

Aoba nodded fast; Granny closed her eyes.

"I knew something was wrong with you. You haven't been acting right." She opened her eyes slowly, and heaved a tired sigh. "And I see you've gotten attached to this…" Her eyes shifted. "Desire."


Desire stiffened, crossing his arms a little tighter. "Doubt it," he muttered; Aoba shot him a glare.

"That's a lie and you know it."

"If you were attached to me you wouldn't have ditched me to go play tonsil hockey with your bo—"

"Shut up!" Aoba smacked his palm over Desire's mouth, face flushed beet red. Granny heaved yet another annoyed sigh, her temple beginning to pulse, her eye twitching just the smallest bit. And then Desire licked Aoba's palm.

"Ugh!" Aoba whipped his hand back, shaking it hard. "Again?!"

"Serves you right." Desire smirked, sliding down in his seat, spreading his legs underneath the table. Granny watched the exchange, one hand coming to rest against her forehead, and Aoba dried his hand off on his shirt with a tight grimace.

"...How on Earth did that man pull this off?" She sounded like she was talking to herself, but then she pushed out her chair and stood, sighing with her hands tight across her chest. "Well, dinner's ready, and I expect the both of you to set the table." Her eyes narrowed. "Now."

Aoba scrambled to his feet with a hushed, "yes, ma'am," almost falling out of his chair in his haste, but Desire stayed still, his eyes defiant little slits.

"And why the hell should I help?"

Granny's eyebrow twitched.

"Do you want to eat?"

Desire's face fell, his lower lip jutting out just the smallest bit. And then, with a melodramatic sigh, he pushed his chair out and stood, promptly jamming his hands into his jean pockets as he slouched.


And so the two of them set the table quickly, then slid back into their seats, Aoba's head hung low, his hair still a total mess (and his neck red and sore thanks to Desire), and Desire with a scowl the likes of which Aoba had never seen, his hands jammed underneath his armpits. After a moment of stalemated glaring with Granny, Desire finally relented and served up his own plate; Aoba, however, only nibbled on his lip, playing with his hands underneath the table.

"Uh…" He blinked fast. "I already ate."

"Oh?" Desire's eyebrows lifted, hand wound tight around a ladle as he smirked. "And what did you eat? Did it taste like cinnamon, by any chance?" And then he snickered, leaving Aoba sputtering and redder than ever.

Granny stared hard, one eyebrow lifted, her chopsticks poised in front of her open mouth. Aoba, with a pained expression, slid down in his seat, one palm covering the majority of his face which, at that very moment, felt like it was about to melt off. Goddamn it, Desire.

Dinner seemed to stretch on for hours, but then, much to Aoba's relief, it was finally over. Desire ate quite a lot, which didn't surprise Aoba in the least, but Granny watched him with her own restrained version of surprise as he crammed food down his throat so quickly he hardly gave himself a moment to chew. Compared to last night, his eating had slowed down a good bit, but he still somehow managed to shovel down two helpings of everything within the span of ten minutes and still go for thirds. Even Aoba was impressed; he could hardly finish a plate himself.

"Thank you for dinner, Granny," Aoba said, sliding his chair out from the table and picking up his and Desire's plates as he stepped to the sink. Though he hadn't eaten much, what he did eat had tasted amazing, as usual—not that he was surprised.

"Of course." Granny's eyes drifted to Desire, expectation written across her stony face, playing out through her narrowed eyes. Desire glowered.

"Thanks," he said, voice entirely flat. Granny cracked a smirk.

After some coaxing (more like nonverbal threatening), Desire helped Aoba clean up while Granny watched them carefully, catching eyes with Desire ever-so-often. Desire would grumble and swear under his breath whenever she did, but soon enough the kitchen was spotless, Granny was looking elsewhere, and it was time for them to go their separate ways.

"Is he sleeping down here?" Granny asked, leaning back against the counter as Aoba dried his hands on a dishtowel, Desire standing just a few steps behind him against the opposite wall. Aoba blinked, then looked to Desire whose face was blank.

"Hell yeah I am," he muttered under his breath. Aoba's face scrunched up.

"What happened to you sleeping with me?" His eyes widened once the words were out of his mouth (and really, sleeping separately would probably be best for reasons better left unsaid), but he couldn't deny he was curious. Was Desire really that mad?

"I know when I'm not wanted, Aoba," Desire said, his eyes darting to Aoba for barely a second. They almost rivaled Mink's in their coldness. "I wouldn't want to bother you or anything."

That...wasn't fair.

Aoba scowled.

"You really are a little kid."

Desire's eyes narrowed even further, and a sneer found its way onto his lips—but before he had a chance to say whatever was on his mind, Granny cut in with a booming sigh.

"I don't know what's going on between you two," she said, stepping between them, arms crossed tight. "I'm still more confused than I've been in a long while. But there's to be no more fighting in this house." She turned to Aoba, her eyes drifting down to his neck. Immediately, he slapped a hand over it, grimacing as he did; he'd forgotten all about Desire's little "gift." "And for the love of God, Aoba, please do something about your neck; I've been staring at it all dinner and it looks painful."

Aoba's face screwed up as Granny stepped out of the kitchen, and he backed against the wall, his head knocking against it, eyes to the ceiling. What a night this turned out to be. With a sigh, he rubbed at his neck, wincing at the fresh sting. Yeah, it was painful, alright.

"Just what the hell possessed you to bite me?" he muttered out, glaring at Desire. Desire smirked.

"Heat of the moment."

Aoba rolled his eyes.

"You're such a fuckin' kid." Then, with a shake of his head, he pushed off the wall. "I'll get you sheets and a blanket."

Desire scowled. "I can get them myself."

"...Do you even know where they are?"

"I was a part of you since birth. I think I can manage."

Aoba sighed, eyes slipping shut. And then, opening his eyes slowly, he stepped towards the living room with a wave of his hand. "Suit yourself. I'll see you in the morning."

Desire didn't respond.

So Aoba made his way upstairs, grumbling under his breath with every step he took, hands shoved deep in his jean pockets. This night… He shook his head. It'd been something, alright.

Well, Granny knew about Desire. And she fed him dinner and offered to let him sleep on the couch, so he guessed that was better than kicking him out or flying off the handle or doing whatever else he'd expected her to do (and really, he hadn't ever imagined her reacting so calmly, but then again, they were a pretty weird family). With a sigh, he stepped into the bathroom, immediately cringing when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Aside from his hair being a greasy, sweaty mess on top of his head, the skin around the bite mark on his neck was red and inflamed; there was even some blood crusted around the marks of entry, and he rolled his eyes at Desire's childishness as he grabbed a rag, wet it, and began to dab at the wound. Biting him? What were they, five? He was going to have a hell of a time covering it up in the morning once it started to bruise, not to mention explaining it to Mink.

His eyes widened.

That was right—he and Mink had…

He slapped a hand over his mouth, his face reddening fast; with everything that had happened once he came home, he hadn't had a second to reflect on what transpired between Mink and himself just a few hours before.

His heart fluttered and he smiled against his palm. Even if this night had gone sour, the memory of his and Mink's time together was still cemented in his mind, all of the emotions he'd felt in the moment firmly attached. He felt giddy just thinking about it.

But his giddiness was zapped away as soon as he thought of Desire.

He lowered his palm away from his mouth and shut and locked the bathroom door, tossing the rag aside, then began to strip, sighing so loudly it bounced back at him off the walls. Desire really complicated things, didn't he? But without Desire, he and Mink would still be nothing but teacher and student… The thought made Aoba frown.

But Desire was completely out of line.

...And Aoba had left him alone for hours on end without a word of warning.

Aoba reached into the shower and turned on the water, then climbed inside, banging his head against the tiles as remorse stabbed at his gut. He'd been thoughtless—even though Desire had thrown a fit like a violent, overgrown toddler, he could understand why he was angry, at least a little bit. Aoba chewed on his lip as he tugged the hair band out of his hair, slipped it on his wrist, and reached for the shampoo.

He just wanted time alone with Mink, that was all. He never intentionally meant to hurt Desire's feelings in any way, shape, or form, but it seemed he'd done just that. Hell, the thought of informing Desire of his date hadn't even crossed his mind.

He was so careless.

And he was also sore.

Wincing as he rubbed his lower back, Aoba whimpered quietly. Mink really was big... At that thought, Aoba began scrubbing his disgusting hair, eyes wide, face red, thoughts drifting places that only made him blush worse. He and Mink had actually… He shook his head, nibbling his lip with an embarrassed little smile. Maybe he really was falling for him.

And soon enough, he was clean.

He wrung his hair out with a towel as he stood in front of the foggy mirror, staring at his blurry silhouette, his mind far away. Obviously, something needed to be done about Desire. But the question was what. He couldn't deny that the thought of hurting Desire's feelings made his chest feel heavy, but he liked Mink, and it wouldn't be fair if he was constantly catering to Desire's wishes and neglecting his own. But then, Desire's words from earlier that day sped through his mind.

"Can't you like both of us?"

Aoba dropped his towel.

...Could he?

When he was with Mink, he felt happy and warm, like everything was perfect, like he was completely safe—when he was with Desire, he felt whole, and normal, and happy too, if not a little flustered when Desire started acting like, well...Desire. But he was getting better at behaving...kind of.

Aoba's mind felt torn straight down the middle.

He couldn't imagine his life without Mink, not now. He still wanted to get to know him, wanted to hear him talk about himself for hours, wanted to lie in bed with him and listen to the smooth timbre of his voice as he drifted off to sleep (thank God Desire wasn't around to make fun of him for that). And a life without Desire, well… He sighed. He didn't want to imagine that, either. He'd already experienced the emptiness that brought, and really, at this point he wanted both of them in his life for good. But neither wanted the other around.

Could they ever learn to get along?

With a small shake of his head, Aoba picked his towel up off the ground and hung it on the rack near the sink. Well, for now the most he could do was go to sleep and hope Desire would be in a better mood come morning. They needed to talk about everything, get things sorted out so that nobody's feeling stayed hurt. But liking both of them… Aoba's face flushed. How would that even work? And it's not like Mink would ever go for something like that...

Quickly, Aoba brushed his hair and teeth, headed for his room, pulled on some pajamas, and collapsed into bed, exhausted both mentally and physically. He could only hope that somehow, even with his thoughts running a mile a minute, he'd manage to fall asleep.

Aoba awoke in the middle of the night to nothing at all. He blinked as he stared at the ceiling, suddenly wide awake and wondering what on Earth woke him up (and he'd been dreaming, he knew that much, even if his dreams were already fading into black), then looked at the clock. Three thirty-five.

With a yawn, he sat up and stretched, feeling a small stab of panic at the absence of Desire next to him—but then he remembered their fight, and his heart felt heavy. Blinking any lingering sleep from his eyes, he threw his covers back then lowered his feet to the floor, immediately cold without his blankets sealing in his warmth. But, he thought as he stood, he wanted to see if Desire was awake; for some reason, he had a very strong feeling he was.

He opened his door and made his way downstairs quietly, careful to pause and listen for Granny's snores before he began his descent. Upon hearing them (and she snored like a chainsaw, good lord), he climbed down and peeked into the living room.

Sure enough, Desire was awake, back propped against the couch, blank face illuminated by the dull glow of the television. Aoba cracked a wry smile.

"Desire?" he called in a whisper, making Desire jump. He turned to Aoba, his face blank with surprise, eyes blinking fast, and then his expression fell.


Aoba frowned. But...he wanted to talk to him. He didn't like this wall Desire was building between them (and Aoba had made the bricks himself, intentionally or not). He wanted it gone.

"We need to talk," he said as he stepped closer, plopping down next to Desire. Desire's body stiffened and he crossed his arms across his chest, sliding down in his seat, blanket wrapped tight around his waist. Ah, so he did know where the linens were…

"I don't want to talk to you," he said, actually pouting. Aoba huffed out a quiet laugh.

"Well, we need to talk. You can't go around hitting and biting people when you're upset, you know."

Desire glared.

...Maybe that wasn't the best way to start an apology.

"...I really am sorry, Desire," Aoba said, frowning as he relaxed against the couch. "I didn't realize how late it was getting. I should have at least told you where I was going."

"Time sure flies when you're taking it up the ass, huh?"

Aoba rolled his eyes.

"You're not exactly blameless yourself."

Desire was silent; Aoba eyed him, then reached a hand up and tousled his hair, relieved when Desire didn't pull away. Desire, after a moment, slumped forward with a sigh.

"...I'm sorry too." Aoba's lips pulled into a smile.

"Thank you."

"...He's lucky, you know that?"

Aoba blinked, staring at Desire with a look of pure confusion. Desire groaned.

"Mink. The asshole's lucky he has you."


Aoba sank back against the couch, arms tight across his chest, face beginning to burn. "He...He's not that lucky."


Aoba sank deeper against the couch, guilt beginning to churn his stomach—and then he felt Desire shift, and there was light pressure against the side of his neck, right where Desire had bitten him earlier. Blinking fast, Aoba looked to the side only to find Desire with his face buried in his hair, his lips pressed against his neck, eyes squeezed shut. But for some reason, nothing about the situation made Aoba scared or suspicious; and even when Desire pulled away, cheeks just slightly darker than usual in the glow of the TV light, Aoba still didn't feel any trace of fear. If anything...he thought Desire was being a lot cuter than usual.

"What was that for?" Aoba asked, smirking just a little. Desire huffed, his eyes on everything but Aoba.

"I hurt you. I feel bad about it, alright?" He scratched the back of his head. "You didn't deserve that, even if I was pissed. So yeah." And then he collapsed back against couch, arms crossed, cheeks dark. And he was so cute like that, pouting and blushing, so unlike himself, Aoba just couldn't resist.

So he pressed his lips against Desire's cheek. Desire took a sharp breath, eyes wide, but then Aoba shifted back, and Desire stared at him, his face pulled up with surprise and happiness so pure Aoba's chest felt warm.

"...What was..." Desire cleared his throat. "What was that for?"

Aoba smiled, his own face just a little hotter than usual.

"I hurt you. I feel bad about it, alright?"

"Ah, shit, that's not fuckin' fair." Desire's hands came up to cover his face; Aoba laughed, lightly punching him on the arm.

"You started it."

"But I didn't expect you to reciprocate it." Desire's hands fell just a bit, his eyes glimmering in a way Aoba had never seen before. "I really wanna kiss you right now, you know that?"

Aoba froze, and took a deep breath. That reminded him…

"...You can kiss me."

Desire's eyes widened so hugely Aoba almost laughed. Yeah, he definitely didn't want to live without him; he wouldn't be able to bear it.


"Yeah." Aoba cleared his throat. "B-But that's all you can do until...we talk to...Mink." He trailed off, eyes to the floor, face burning up. And then there was a hand caressing the side of his face so gently he began to shake.

"...You like me?"

Aoba exhaled slowly, turning to Desire. When they caught eyes, hazel against gold, his heart thumped.

"Yeah. I like you."

And then Desire kissed him.

Chapter Text


Aoba blinked a couple of times until Desire's face, messy hair plastered against the side of it, one bright eye cracked open, came into focus. For a moment, he was nothing but confused—hadn't they fought last night? Didn't Desire sleep downstairs?—but then, slowly, their after-midnight conversation trickled into his mind, and then a soft kiss was pressed against his lips. He smiled.

"'Morning." He cuddled a bit closer to Desire, right up against his chest, arms tight around him; he was warm, and judging from the sun's place in the sky, it wasn't quite time to wake up yet. "You sleep okay?" he yawned.

Soon, Desire was yawning too, and holding Aoba just a bit closer himself, his own arms wound around Aoba's shoulders.


Aoba smiled against his chest.

"I'm glad."

They stayed like that, cuddled close, until Aoba's alarm rang and the sound of Granny shuffling around shattered the illusion of peaceful intimacy and they were forced to part—but before Aoba got very far, he was tugged forward by his shirt only to meet soft, insistent lips.

He melted into the kiss, shuddering when a wet tongue traced the outline of his lips, pried them open, dove inside, but then he pushed Desire away, already panting hard.

"Stop that," he said with a laugh, eyes lower than he wanted them to be. His lips twitched when he saw Desire's dreamy expression, and then he was pulled forward again, rolled onto his back, and Desire was kissing him again—but it wasn't like his usual kisses: needy, desperate, with a hint of fear that made Aoba feel anything but at ease. Dare Aoba say, this morning Desire's kisses were surprisingly romantic.

"I can't help it," Desire said as he pulled away, kissing him one last time. "You look so fuckin' cute like that, your hair all messed up, your face all sleepy and shit." He grinned when Aoba laughed, and nuzzled the side of his face, tickling Aoba's cheek with his hair.

"Morning breath included?"

"Morning breath included."

Aoba shook his head with a sigh, smiling wider with each passing second. He ran his hands through Desire's tangled hair, down Desire's naked back.

"I need to go to school."

Desire groaned, his arms tightening around Aoba, his face buried in Aoba's neck.

"Can't you skip today?"

Aoba frowned.

"I'm already behind as it is."

Desire sighed, and then, with another quiet groan and obvious reluctance, he loosened his grip and plopped onto the bed next to Aoba, one arm flung over his eyes. He sighed, lips twitching down. Their legs overlapped on the tiny bed, thick blanket twisted and wound tightly around their bodies.

"...Are we gonna tell him today?"

Aoba's eyes widened.

That was right—they needed to talk to Mink. He frowned deeper, guilt immediately rushing in, shattering the morning's mood.

"We should. It wouldn't be right if we didn't."

Desire lowered his arm and peeked at Aoba, his eyebrows scrunched together.

"...What if he doesn't go for it?"

Aoba didn't want to think about that. So he shrugged as he sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, barely managing to escape the blanket and scratching the top of his messy bedhead.

"We'll figure something out," he said. And then he threw a little smile Desire's way. "I want both of you. I won't be happy otherwise."

Desire beamed.

And after saying something like that, it wasn't much of a surprise that Desire didn't let him leave bed for another twenty minutes.

"Ah, I'm late!" Aoba slipped his shoes on at the door, hopping on one foot as he struggled to lace one up. "This can't happen again, Desire!" he said as his airborne foot hit the floor, almost throwing him off-balance, and he slung his backpack over one shoulder, smoothing down his hair with one hand to make sure it still covered the dark bruise on his neck. Desire, with a smirk, stepped forward and crammed a piece of burnt toast in his mouth.

"Have a good day," he said with a little, mischievous grin. Aoba, with a roll of his eyes, transferred the piece of semi-edible toast from mouth to hand and pecked him hard.

"You too." He smiled. "Mink's later?"

"Mink's later." Desire's expression twisted just the smallest bit, making Aoba pause with his hand on the doorknob, piece of toast poised just outside his mouth.


Desire sighed, arms crossed across his chest, expression trained on the wall. He words came out hushed and slow, his face just a little bit red.

"...You still want me?"

Aoba blinked, eyes wide. He was silent for a moment.

"Yeah." His face relaxed into a smile. "I promise."

And so he headed to school, jogging most of the way, and barely managed to slip into his first class before the bell rang, panting hard and falling into his seat. His teacher didn't give him more than a raised eyebrow before class began, and then he was finally able to relax—until the anxious thoughts kicked in, that is.

How in the hell were they going to pull this off?

It was obvious just from looking at Mink that he was more...traditional...and a relationship like this was anything but. Hell, Aoba himself wasn't traditional. But then again, Mink was dating his student...his very obviously male student. Aoba tugged at his hair as his face twisted with anxiety: sickening, crushing anxiety. He didn't want to lose Mink—not so soon, not ever, to be honest—but excluding Desire just didn't feel right, and after a morning so nice he couldn't ever imagine shoving him aside again and denying his feelings, twisted as they were. He loved them both, albeit in slightly different ways—but the intensity was still exactly the same.


He retraced his thoughts a few steps.

Loved? His face burned as he slid into his seat. Well, his feelings for them were strong, there was no doubt about that, but saying he was in love with them was a bit too much.

Or was it?

He sighed, closing his eyes. His heart pounded at the thought.

No. No, no, no. It was too early for thoughts like that. And was it even possible to love two people at the same time, let alone someone who used to be nothing but an interfering, semi-psychotic, emotionally stunted voice inside your head?

He slid down farther, one hand clamped over the bruise on his neck.

God, what a mess.

And that was the exact same thought running on repeat through his head as he stared Mink in the face six hours later, his question burning a hole straight through his tongue. But he couldn't get it out. He was too choked up. Too scared. He was starting to sweat, starting to shake.

Mink just stared.

"...Spit it out," he huffed, eyebrow beginning to twitch. His eyes weren't cold, but they were cloudy, muddled with worry, maybe even a bit of apprehension. Aoba took a deep breath.

"...Desire...and I…" He grimaced; just mentioning that name made Mink's face darken. "We have something we need to you...about. Alone." He released his breath, shutting his eyes. There. He said it. He already felt lighter.

Mink was silent for a long while; Aoba's eyes stayed shut. But then he heard a sigh, and the sound of shifting, and there was a warm, heavy hand on top of his head.


And so they left.

He and Mink picked Desire up from Granny's after Aoba texted Granny asking for permission to go out that night (for once). Aoba was wary about them all being in the car together, but Desire didn't say a word the entire ride—not to Mink, not even to Aoba, and he kept his hands and feet to himself. Aoba's relief couldn't be put into words.

But Aoba knew why Desire was acting so good, and the thought made him blush worse than he ever knew he could. Oh, God. What would happen when they tried to explain themselves? Would Mink agree? Would Mink break up with him? Aoba's head was starting to hurt; his stomach was starting to clench.

The lightest kick to the back of his seat made Aoba jerk his head up, and he peeked in the rearview mirror only to see Desire smiling at him, his face serene; almost immediately, Aoba's shoulders loosened, his posture relaxed, and he slid back against his seat. Everything would be fine. He wasn't sure how, but somehow, someway, things were going to work out.

Aoba was able to keep his line of thinking positive until the three of them stood in Mink's living room, silence piled heavy like dirt on a coffin. Aoba's throat was beginning to tighten; Desire clapped a hand on his shoulder with a little huff; Mink watched the action with a face devoid of all emotion.

Desire was the first to speak.

"So, Aoba here's decided that he likes me—"


"—but he likes you, too, so that leaves us with a bit of a dilemma."

Aoba's lips were a firm line, and he chanced a quick look at Mink—the man's face looked exactly the same.

"In order to keep Aoba happy," Desire said, the hand on Aoba's shoulder finding its way to the other as he wrapped his arm around him, tugged him close, "the both of us are gonna have to compromise."

Aoba didn't want to look up again, didn't want to see whatever expression Mink wore, but despite this wish his eyes drifted up from the floor. Mink's expression had shifted just a fraction, but, as always, it was still difficult to read—but his eyes were definitely darker, definitely less inviting. Aoba gulped.

"...What do you mean?" Mink's tone was a warning in itself.

Desire cracked a grin, his head tilting to the side. "I think you know what I mean. We've already established that you're not stupid—a little crazy, but not dumb."

Mink's eyebrow twitched, and Aoba immediately regretted allowing Desire to speak for him.

"What we're trying to say," Aoba said as he shrugged off Desire's arm and stepped closer to Mink, "is that the situation's a little...weird." He tried his hardest to smile up at Mink as he wound his arms around his waist, snuggled up close, his head against his chest. Mink's arm immediately wrapped around him and his hand rested against his back, stroking softly; Aoba felt himself begin to melt. "It's selfish, I know," he muttered, barely louder than a whisper, "but I care about both of you so much it's driving me crazy."

Mink exhaled a shaky breath, but stayed silent. Desire cracked another grin.

"Since Aoba's beating around the bush, let me spell it out for you: Aoba wants to date both of us."

Mink's hand on Aoba's back paused.

"We'd both get to love him, treat him like our little princess, take him out on dates, all that romantic bullshit—and we'd both get to fuck him until he's screaming and begging and too exhausted to move."

Aoba paled, burying his face in Mink's shirt. Eloquent was something Desire most definitely was not.


Aoba's heart dropped; Desire's lip curled.

"You're really that selfish? This isn't just for me, you know, even though I'd definitely be reaping the benefits." Desire's eyes narrowed. "Think about him." Desire jerked his chin at Aoba.

Mink was suddenly a lot less warm.

"Plus, it's not even all that weird—I've already blown you, I was there when you and Aoba were dry-humping the night away at Granny's, and I've made Aoba cum to the thought of you more times than I can count."

Aoba groaned in humiliation; Mink remained silent. Desire gave an annoyed huff, his expression twisting into one of aggravation, his arms tight across his chest, foot tapping against the floor.

"Guess words aren't gonna get us anywhere," he grumbled, mostly to himself; and then, in an action so quick it made Aoba yelp, he stepped forward, yanked Aoba away from Mink, and kissed him hard.

Aoba whimpered and tried to shove him away, his hands wedged between them, but then Desire's hands ran down his back, cupping his ass, tugging him closer, his tongue forced its way past Aoba's lips, and Aoba's mind went blank.

Desire moaned against Aoba's mouth with a little smirk, rolling his hips while squeezing his ass hard, and then it was Aoba's turn to moan as Desire's tongue slid against his, warm and wet and loud. He shivered and whispered Desire's name as Desire's hands slid up under his shirt, then dove under the back of his pants, kneading and squeezing his bare ass, making Aoba tremble with want.

Desire caught his lower lip with his teeth and sucked on it for just a moment, making Aoba's hands against his chest shake, then released it with a lusty little grin and looked right at Mink.

"You can watch us all you want," he said, his hands still inside Aoba's pants, still squeezing Aoba's ass so tight he whimpered. "Don't even try to tell me the thought isn't tempting."

Mink's face was blank, his hands were tight at his sides, but his eyes were dark and clouded—and not with anger, that much Aoba could tell as he looked up, blinking away some of the film that had begun clouding his vision. He seemed...conflicted. Extremely so.

"Let us give you a little show," Desire said with a lick up his lips. "Don't you want to hear just how loud Aoba can moan?" Desire brought his face to Aoba's ear, his breath hot and moist against the shell; Aoba whimpered. "Let's show him how slutty you really are."

Aoba wanted to say no, wanted to say that that was embarrassing, humiliating, but then Desire's finger pressed against his hole, rubbed the rim, and Aoba pushed back against it on instinct, panting out Desire's name.

And then Mink snapped.

"Bedroom," was all he said, voice low, commanding. Smirking wide, Desire slid his hands out of Aoba's pants only for Aoba to whine louder, cling closer.

"I knew you'd come around." Desire kissed Aoba one last time, their eyes meeting, exchanging unspoken words (relief, happiness, excitement), and then Mink was headed towards the hallway, Desire and Aoba stumbling along behind.

"Desire…" Aoba's chest felt tight, but no longer from fear—he was excited. Really excited. He looked to Desire, blindly reaching for his hand; once he found it, Desire squeezed tight.

"I know." Desire threw him a grin, and Aoba's heart pounded hard. Alone, they were amazing...but together… Aoba's heart was beating so fast he was surprised he was able to function at all.

When they reached the end of the hall, Mink pushed the door open, standing just outside as Desire shuffled in, his hand falling away from Aoba's—but Mink caught Aoba by the arm, his eyes on Aoba's face, searching, probing every nook and cranny. Aoba bit his lip.

"...This is what you want?" Mink's voice held a small note of uncertainty, just as his eyes did. Aoba gave a small smile.

"Yeah." His expression drooped. "But...what about you?"

Mink sighed, his lip curling up just barely.

"We'll see."

"You comin' or not?"

Mink, with a small ruffle of Aoba's hair, placed his hand on the small of Aoba's back, guiding him into the room. Desire was lying back on the bed, hands propped behind his head, legs spread wide, shoes kicked off somewhere along the way (Aoba's came off at the door). For a moment, all Aoba and Mink did was stand in front of the bed, looking more than mildly awkward, Mink's hand still on Aoba's back, Aoba blinking fast as though he was entirely lost. Desire rolled his eyes.

"Mink, go make yourself comfortable," he said as he slid into sitting position. Mink, though his expression was anything but happy, slid into a wooden chair pushed against the wall, facing the bed. "And Aoba...strip."

Aoba's face lit up.


"No buts." Desire hopped to his feet and crossed the distance between Aoba and himself in two quick steps, then brought his hands up and ran his fingers through Aoba's hair, lips brushing by his ear as he spoke, a wide smirk curling his lips. "Let's show Mink everything we've been keeping a secret, hm?" His hands brushed through Aoba's hair and down to his lower back; Aoba shuddered, melting against Desire until the hem of his shirt was grasped and forced up and he stumbled a couple of steps back.

Aoba cursed under his breath as he lifted his arms above his head (Desire was impatient, damn it), but then his shirt was off, and Desire was knelt in front of him, unbuckling his pants.

"S-Slow down," Aoba said as his pants were tugged down to his ankles, boxers included. His face felt painfully hot and his hands dove to cover himself (why was he the only one naked?!), but Desire caught his hands as he got to his feet, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"You're already getting hard, Aoba. Don't pretend to be embarrassed."

"But I am!"

"Not for long."

And he kissed Aoba hard, sloppy, and wet before yanking him back a few steps so they tumbled onto the bed, Aoba splayed out on top of Desire, his hands braced against the bed, legs hugging his hips, Desire grinning like a maniac underneath. His hands ran down Aoba's back, stopping at his ass, cupping it, massaging it, coaxing out quite a few adorable mewls before Aoba finally managed to stifle his voice. Desire hummed.

"You're so sexy, Aoba."


"Just a little."

From across the room, Mink grunted.

Aoba dragged his low eyes in Mink's direction, swallowing hard when their eyes met. Shit, this was really happening; Mink was really watching them… He shivered.

"Someone's getting excited…" Desire chuckled, voice low and raspy. And then, slowly, he sat up, shoving Aoba onto the bed beside him. Aoba eyed him with curiosity as he flopped against it, trying his hardest to ignore how totally exposed he felt, snapping his legs shut fast. Desire, with a quick wink, positioned himself against the headboard, legs wide open (and he was pitching quite the tent himself, Aoba noticed with a gulp), then patted the spot between his legs.

"Have a seat, Aoba."

Aoba, with a reluctant nod, crawled forward on his hands and knees, then swiveled around, pressing his back against Desire's chest as he settled in. He could clearly feel the outline of Desire's cock pressed against his lower back, and he took a staggered breath, knees pulled up to his own chest, heartbeat gone wild.

Desire clicked his tongue right next to Aoba's ear, then placed his hands on his knees and forced them down. "He's already seen you naked, I'm sure—don't be a little bitch."

Aoba glared, but Desire only laughed, then ran his hands up Aoba's chest, stopping to roll his hardened nipples between his fingers. Aoba's mouth fell open with a groan, his hands gripping Desire's wrists, head lolling against his shoulder. He felt his cock pulse, and bit his lip, eyes squeezed shut, knowing that from their position on the bed and his legs being spread so wide, Mink could see everything.

"I wonder how loud he made you moan…" Desire mused, hot breath fanning against Aoba's ear. "Did it feel good when he fucked you? Isn't he big?"

"Desire," Aoba whined, his cock twitching so hard it almost hurt. Oh, God, Mink was watching, Mink could hear him—

"Hey, teach—you got any lube?" Desire shifted behind Aoba, rolling his hips against Aoba's back with the tiniest moan, his fingers pinching Aoba's nipples even harder. "I wanna make sure Aoba's spread nice and wide…"

Mink grunted again, then motioned to the bedside table. "First drawer." His eyes, dark and burning, never left Aoba's face.

Desire reached over, one hand still twisting and rolling Aoba's nipple and earning the cutest little stream of wanton whimpers, and yanked the drawer open. Its contents rattled from the force used and he lifted an eyebrow, blank gaze drifting back to Mink.

"The wooden container."

Desire, with a small roll of his eyes, reached inside and pulled it out, then made himself comfortable behind Aoba once again, spreading his legs a little wider, pressing Aoba a little closer, and moaning at the added pressure against his cock.

Removing his fingers from Aoba's nipple, he opened the container quickly, scrunching his nose up at the flowery smell that hit him straight in the face. "Interesting…" he muttered, scooping some onto his finger then tossing the container aside. And then, with a smirk, he used one hand to push Aoba's leg out a little more, then wrapped his lube-slickened fingers tight around his cock and tugged.

"Hah!" Aoba cried out, eyes going wide, hips arching and rolling forward at the unexpected contact, unexpected pleasure. Desire forced him back down against his chest with a snort, one arm wrapped tight around his waist, burning golden eyes honed in on Mink from across the room.

Mink's face was unreadable as always, but from the intensity of his gaze, from where his gaze was directed, Desire knew he was enjoying himself a lot more than he let on. With a lick of his lips, Desire twisted his hand over Aoba's cock, then used two fingers to drag slowly up the shaft, making Aoba shudder and whimper beneath him.

"I can show you everything Aoba likes," Desire said, his fingers squeezing the dripping, swollen tip of Aoba's cock, making it leak even more, pre-cum dribbling down his shaft; Aoba moaned out Desire's name, and Desire shuddered with a heavy breath. "See how wet he already is?" Desire nipped at Aoba's shoulder, eyes heavy, almost as dark a gold as Mink's. "He's loving this."

"Desire, s-s—" Aoba clamped his lips shut when suddenly Desire stroked from base-to-tip, his hand a tight fist, making Aoba's toes curl against the bed. And once Aoba's eyes locked with Mink's yet again, his dick jerked hard, so hard he grit his teeth, his hands flying back to grip Desire's hair, tugging with all his strength.

"Ah—" Desire chuckled at the sting in his scalp, then rolled his hips once, twice before settling back against the bed and unwinding his fingers from around Aoba's cock. Aoba panted raggedly, eyes cracked open, and was just about to protest at Desire's inconsideration, the words on the tip of his tongue—but then he felt re-slickened fingers prodding at his hole, Desire's other hand holding his ass open wide, wide for Mink to see, and he groaned. Automatically, he arched his back just slightly, let his legs fall open a little more, giving Mink an even better view.

"See his little hole?" Desire licked his lips. "It's so hot and tight, isn't it? And lucky you...getting to feel it all…" He pushed his finger in slowly, curling it, making Aoba's knees shake, then tugged it back out, chuckling darkly when Aoba clenched around him, trying to keep him inside. "Just begging to be filled…"

Aoba's mind was in a total haze, and when he felt that finger jam itself back inside, he could do nothing more than moan, his voice strained, light, and weak. His entire body felt electrified, and every time he glanced at Mink for so much as a second, he burned ten times hotter. If only he could tell what Mink was thinking…

But his thoughts were scrambled when Desire forced two slick fingers inside.

Aoba cried out and writhed, but Desire held him steady, biting into his neck, his fingers wriggling and curling and thrusting so hard and fast it was just shy of painful.

"Desire, Desire, Desire—s-slow do-ah!" Tears slipped out of Aoba's eyes and he choked, pulling Desire's hair so hard he could hear strands popping loose—but all Desire did was moan and roll his hips, his cock digging into Aoba's back, twitching against the constrictive denim of his jeans.

"Moan as loud as you can, Aoba," Desire said through a pant, smiling against his neck, teeth bared, eyes flashing just for Mink. Mink's eyes were glossed-over and his lips were parted just barely; his tongue darted out to wet them, and Desire let out a choked laugh.

"He wants to fuck you so bad, Aoba," he said, twisting his fingers, stirring Aoba up just right. "Wants to cram his cock inside you, stretch you wide open—" Desire shoved another finger inside, moaning himself at how easily it slid in. "Do you want that? Do you want him to fuck you?"

Aoba mewled, wiggling his hips against Desire's fingers, wishing they'd reach deeper, stretch him wider, fill him more, more, more—

"Yes!" Aoba cried, eyes squeezed tight, tears slipping down his red-flushed cheeks. "Yes, yes, yes, yes—"

Desire groaned and rutted against Aoba's back, cramming a fourth finger inside, making Aoba grit his teeth with a moan that sounded more like a sob. Mink's breathing was audible from all the way across the room, a fact that made Desire grin against Aoba's shoulder, scissor his fingers a little wider.

"He's watching you, Aoba~" Desire whispered, licking a trail right up Aoba's neck, right over the bruise he'd given him yesterday. "He can see everything."

"M-Mink," Aoba gasped, chest heaving, vision terribly blurred. "Mink—"

"You gonna cum with him watching you?" Desire's other hand wrapped around Aoba's cock, jerking it once, hard; it was leaking like a tap. "I can feel you tightening up around my fingers."

Aoba thrashed, jerking his head from side-to-side, his legs falling open so wide he felt his muscles tremble from the strain; and once his watery vision rested on Mink sitting across from them, his face pulled tight with longing, with lust, Aoba came undone.

He cried out so loudly Desire winced as he came, his cock shooting ribbon after ribbon of cum onto his stomach, his chest, some even managing to splash against his chin from the sheer force of his orgasm. Desire rolled his hips harder, panting like a wild animal as Aoba's ass clenched around his fingers, tugging them in deeper, making him wish it was his cock buried inside, unraveling Aoba, wrecking him to the point where he couldn't so much as breathe.

And then, slowly, Aoba's fingers loosened their death grip in Desire's hair and flopped onto the bed, his chest heaving and splattered with white, his lips open, swollen, and damp with saliva. With a loud squish Desire removed his fingers from Aoba's ass, the fingers of his other hand still loosely wrapped around Aoba's softening cock. And then, his eyes shifted to Mink who sat hunched forward, arms resting on his knees, face lightly flushed, legs spread with an obvious problem of his own tenting his jeans.

"Hey, Aoba…" Desire nuzzled Aoba's neck, placed an open-mouthed kiss near the nape. He grinned. "I think it's Mink's turn."

Chapter Text

After a moment of ragged, exhausted panting, Aoba was pushed off of Desire and onto the bed where he lied back, staring at the ceiling, trying his hardest to regain his breath. His mind was still swimming, his body still tingled all over, and he was so tired he knew he could have fallen asleep right there, right then—but when he felt the bed shift and heard the unmistakable sound of Desire's voice, he forced himself to roll onto his side, and once he did, he gaped at the sight he saw.

"You need some help with that?" Desire said, eyes glinting, hands smacking down on either arm of Mink's chair. "We could have a repeat of last time—I wouldn't mind." His eyes drifted to Aoba lying back on the bed; his face was strained, mouth still hanging open. Desire rolled his eyes. "If it's okay with Aoba, of course."

Aoba blinked and snapped his mouth shut, frantically trying to clear his mind just enough to make sense of the situation. It felt like he'd lost his bearings completely, but soon enough, his memory was jarred and he scooted against the headboard, knees drawn tight to his chest. He winced at the feeling of sticky, cooling cum against his knees and thighs, but it was better than feeling so exposed, though really, any belated embarrassment was pointless; he'd just been entirely debauched, lewd, and shameless thanks to Desire, as usual. He sighed.

"Well?" Desire lifted one eyebrow. "Unless you're up for it."

Aoba nibbled his lip.

"...You can go ahead."

Desire's eyes widened just a bit, excitement flashing through them before a grin broke out across his face and he whipped his head back to Mink, inching closer until their faces nearly touched. Mink's own expression was a good bit different than his usual stoic self, at least as far as Aoba could see from his place on the bed, and although he still looked conflicted, that much was obvious, the film covering his eyes, his grip on his knees, and the tent in his jeans were enough to speak of what he truly wanted.

"Whattaya say, teach?" Desire asked, tilting his head, raising his eyebrows. His hair fell over his chest, tickling Mink's cheek and shoulders—that's how close they were. "You already know how good I am with my mouth."

Mink was silent, his eyes drifting to Aoba who hugged his legs a little closer to his chest, chewing on his bottom lip, eyes wide as he waited for Mink's answer. Mink's gaze, once it settled on Aoba seemed to ask for permission, a thought that made Aoba crack the smallest smile and loosen up just a little.

"...Like Desire said, it already happened…" Aoba cleared his throat, his cheeks burning up. Odd as it was, the thought of sharing Mink with Desire didn't bother him as much as it probably should have, but, then again, sharing things was par for the course when it came to Desire—that was his reasoning in that very moment, not that the thought of watching them together was exactly a turn-off.

His eyes widened.

No, no, no. That wasn't it. He was just tired, that's all.

Mink heaved a sigh and looked back to Desire, his eyes holding a hint of resignation resting just beneath the fire.

"I never imagined myself in a predicament like this," he said, something like a tired laugh in his voice. Desire shot a grin at Aoba, who only managed a weak smirk before Desire sank down onto his knees, licked his lips, and unbuttoned Mink's pants.

"You complaining?"

"Not exactly."

Desire snickered, biting his lip as he fished out Mink's cock, shivering as it twitched in his palm, hot and hard and already dripping wet. He tugged hard; Mink's hips jerked. "Good."

He leaned forward, sustaining eye contact with Mink, and dragged his tongue all around the head, diving into the slit, shivering when Mink's hands laced through his hair, gripping tight, urging him closer. Desire moaned, scraping his teeth over the swollen tip and crying out when Mink yanked his hair tighter, eyes narrowed, breath coming short.

"Who said you could use your teeth?"

Desire smirked, dragging his tongue flat up the shaft, thumbing the head. "You gonna make me gag again if I do?"

Mink's lips twitched, his expression twisting into one of lustful malice (it was quite the combination, Aoba had to admit; he held his breath in anticipation).

"Are you asking to be gagged?"

Desire's eyes flashed, and he swallowed the tip of Mink's cock and slid back off with a little bite of his lip, wiggle of his hips.

"Maybe I am." His eyes drooped and he placed a sloppy kiss against Mink's shaft, then gave a little smirk, nipping at the underside. "You gonna deliver?"

Mink huffed out a strained laugh, forcing Desire closer, his eyes clouding over even more when Desire's lips easily fell open, the tip sliding back into his warm, wet, overeager mouth. "Make it worth my time, Desire."

And before Desire could respond, he was forced halfway down Mink's cock; his eyes flew open, his hands smacking against Mink's thighs to balance himself, and then he whimpered as he was dragged back up, shooting daggers at Mink. Mink's lip curled.

"Already disappointing," he muttered, rolling his hips against Desire's face as he pushed him back down. Desire's eyes narrowed and he dragged his teeth over Mink's cock as he slid up, making Mink's hips jerk, his breath hitch. Desire smirked.

"Don't talk shit to the man with his mouth on your dick."

Aoba slapped a hand over his own mouth, trying (and failing) to hold in a low snicker—but his snicker turned into a muffled gasp when suddenly Desire was shoved away and Mink's head lifted high, his lips curled into a forceful sneer. His eyes drifted to Aoba's for just a moment; the absolutely starving look in them made his stomach burn, but they didn't look hungry in the way they had yesterday—this was much more...raw. Unrestrained. Carnal. It made Aoba shiver.

Mink glared at Desire.

"Get on the bed."

Desire gritted his teeth.

"Don't tell me what to do, old ma—"

"Now." Mink's voice held not a single wavering note, and he spoke as though there was no room to argue, a warning held deep in his rugged voice. Desire's eyes widened, and then, slowly, yet another grin spread across his face, and his body began to tremble.

"Yes, sir…" He got to his feet in no hurry at all, keeping his eyes locked with Mink's all the while, and Mink smirked, his eyes flashing for merely a moment.


Desire's pupils dilated, his breath caught, and then he hooked his fingers underneath the hem of his shirt and slowly (so, so slowly), began to work it off over his head, flashing Mink another lustful little grin. Aoba watched him closely, confused but mostly surprised by Desire's blind obedience, but the tone of Mink's voice was something that sent shivers down his spine—it was safe to say the same went for Desire, judging by his actions.

After Desire's shirt was thrown off, next came his pants which he worked off with tantalizing slowness, like each drag of fabric against skin had special meaning—but Aoba knew he was teasing, could tell by the shimmer in his eyes when he glanced back that this was exciting him. Shit, it was exciting Aoba, and he'd just recently found release—intense release. He hugged his legs a little tighter, took a couple of deep, steadying breaths, then honed in on Mink's face, shivering as their eyes caught for a short second. This entire situation was making his head spin.

Once Desire was stripped bare (and, oddly enough, it was a sight Aoba couldn't drag his eyes away from though he'd seen it a thousand times), he sat on the bed, legs spread, palms flat against it, no thought spared for decency. His cock was so swollen and red it looked painful.

"What are you gonna do to me?" he asked, his voice wavering with excitement. Aoba held his breath—what was Mink going to do?

Mink, his face betraying none of his plans stood to his feet then made his way to the bed, gesturing towards Desire.

"Get on all fours and face the foot of the bed."

Desire, with a breathless little laugh, did just that, his ass held high; Aoba found his eyes drawn to it, and he gulped, his throat uncomfortably dry.

Mink grasped Desire's chin and jerked his head up with enough force to make Desire yelp—but his eyes didn't dull even a fraction. Mink stared at him for a long moment, then peeked at Aoba from the corner of his eye. As if he read his mind, Aoba gave a short, tentative nod, and then Mink let out a heavy breath, and guided Desire's face towards his groin.

"Finally," Desire muttered as he opened his mouth, Mink's cock resting against his tongue, making him shiver at the bittersweet taste. But then Desire, with an annoyed huff, pulled off and reached forward, yanking Mink's pants down to his thighs before promptly leaning forward and swallowing him down, taking him almost to the base in one go, hands slammed against the edge of the bed to steady himself. He winced and retched as Mink's cock knocked against the back of his throat, but seeing Mink's eyes widen and hearing his breath hitch was a reward in itself. With a quiet moan he slid back up and let out a heavy, muffled groan when Mink immediately shoved him back down, fingers laced tight through his hair, giving him barely a second to breathe before his mouth and throat were stuffed full once again. He whimpered and fisted the bedspread, trying his hardest to relax his throat so Mink could slide down deeper, wreck him harder—and soon enough, Mink's hips started to move on their own as he guided Desire's face down his cock, his balls smacking against his chin with more and more force every second, making Desire sputter and slobber and glare and burn with lust.

Aoba watched, eyes wide, face burning as Desire's hair was tugged and yanked and his face was fucked so hard drool slid out of his mouth, down his chin, plopping onto the bed, choking noises slipping out without pause. Aoba's eyes drifted up to Mink's face: his eyebrows were drawn, his face strung tight, eyes flashing with some sick combination of lust and pure hostility; Desire's eyes were barely open as Aoba's gaze drifted down, but Aoba could only imagine the salacious look they probably held.

And then, as his gaze drifted back up, he caught eyes with Mink.

Mink's eyes immediately widened, then narrowed once more, his head tipping back just barely as his hips snapped harder, faster, and Desire moaned even louder, slipping forward on the bed, the bulge in his throat more and more apparent as Mink's thrusts hit deeper, reached farther. Aoba was torn on where to rest his eyes—it was all so arousing, so disgusting, so wrong.

And he was so hard it hurt.

The realization was punctuated by a particularly loud moan from Desire and Desire reaching a hand underneath himself, wrapping it around his cock and fucking his hand so hard Aoba could hear it. The sight of his arm moving coupled with everything else (the noises, the smell of sex, the sight of Mink pounding his face) made Aoba release his own little moan, and, without thinking, almost unconsciously, he spread his legs, let them drop onto the bed, and his fingers began to drift.

He flicked his tongue against his lips, grasping his cock tight, hissing at the immediate throb that followed, and rolled his hips, his head tossed back against the headboard. His eyes drifted to Desire's ass, to the side of Desire's red, tear-streaked face, to the sight of his arm moving furiously underneath himself; and then they drifted to Mink's sweaty, twisted face, his eyes (and he looked near-delirious, his hips snapping harder, faster, grunts falling out every time Desire gagged particularly loud), and the sight of his fingers clutching Desire's hair so hard it had to hurt. Aoba whimpered, his hand sliding over his erection with ease, his body trembling with want.

"Mink," he panted, shuddering when Mink's eyes flickered to him. A lusty little smirk slid onto Mink's face as he stared at Aoba, his hips still moving, still slamming against Desire's face, and Aoba, eyes nearly shut, whimpered out his name yet again, his hand quickly picking up speed.

And then Desire paused.

With a loud, lewd pop, he pulled off of Mink, panting hard, coughing raggedly as his face scrunched up, as his burning lungs were finally filled. Mink eyed him with curiosity, if not a bit of concern—but Aoba doubted that was truly the case, not with how rough he'd just been.

"As much fun as this is," Desire said, voice ragged, cut up with pants, "I think Aoba over there could use some attention." He grinned, his face tired, his eyes so glossed-over and red he looked like he'd been sobbing. He tilted his head, peeked at Aoba from the corner of his eye. "Show me how well you treat him, hm?"

Mink, his eyes still boring into Aoba, nodded once, then dropped his hold on Desire's hair. Desire collapsed on his arms against the bed, ass still held high and breaths coming hard and short.


Aoba's heart sped up, his hand stroking himself a little faster as Mink crawled onto the bed, making it dip beneath the added weight, the expression on his face nothing if not predatory. Aoba shivered as he was boxed in and his lips were claimed with heat so intense he moaned louder than Desire, his legs immediately wrapping around Mink's waist, tugging him close, his arms winding around his neck, crushing their chests together. Desire chuckled weakly, then coughed again, content enough with his current position to enjoy the little show.

"Mink," Aoba said against his lips, rocking his hips, his face scrunched-up and red. "Please—"

Mink kissed him hard once again, then separated and reached for the long-forgotten cream resting on the bed beside them—Aoba almost groaned, almost complained, almost told Mink to forget it, but then his mind focused in on the way his ass was already beginning to ache from today and yesterday's activities, and he held his tongue, instead shivering when two wet fingers easily slid inside of him, making him grip the blanket, cry out Mink's name.

Desire's hand that had stilled along his length began to stroke once again, and he let out an airy little moan, rocking forward as he watched Mink stretch him with two, then three fingers, then pull away only to slick his own cock and hold Aoba's thighs.

"Are you ready?" Mink asked, voice a ragged growl. Aoba nodded, tugging at Mink's shirt.

"Yes, but, first—"

With a small smile and shake of his head, Mink quickly unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it off, and tossed it aside; Aoba groaned with relief once Mink's chest was bared, dragging his hands down it, down to his stomach, his abdomen, his cock, grasping it himself and lifting his hips high, staring at Mink with eyes shining, desperate, completely ridden with lust. Mink's breath hitched and he gripped Aoba's thighs harder, then allowed himself to be guided forward, gritting his teeth when the head slipped inside.

Aoba threw his head back, moaning so loud he put Desire to shame, wiggling his hips as he took Mink in deeper, was stretched to his absolute limit once again. He panted hard, his eyes only slipping open when Mink grasped his face and kissed him, then swiveled his hips, making Aoba's thighs tremble, his hands claw at Mink's back.


Desire, breathing heavily, finally slid into sitting position, one knee up, arm braced against it. He licked his lips; Aoba was adorable when he begged.

As Mink finally pulled out and gave Aoba what he wanted, Desire watched closely, eyes hooded, gaze riveted to the place where they were joined and ears perking up at the sound of sloshing, of fucking. He bit his lip, hand wound tight around his cock, jerking hard in time with Mink's slow thrusts.

Aoba groaned, arching his hips higher, trying to feel Mink as deeply as he could—and when his eyes drifted over to Desire, falling onto his lust-filled face, his hand around his dick, Aoba felt himself tighten up, felt himself shiver and shake. Desire smirked, lips barely parted.

"Looks like Aoba's enjoying himself," he said, voice still quieter, breathier than normal. Aoba moaned as Mink rocked into him, hard and slow and so, so deep. "How's he feel inside of you?"

Aoba shook as he searched for answer, his words entirely lost, vocabulary scrambled at the feeling of Mink's thick cock rubbing inside of him, touching all the right places, at the sound of Mink's heavy breaths against his ear, making him tremble even worse.

"...A—" Aoba groaned, his legs winding tight around Mink's waist. Mink chuckled against his ear, sending another round of shivers spreading across Aoba's skin. "Amazing—"

Desire panted hard, eyes drifting to the back of Mink's head (his face was hidden by Aoba's hair), then back to Aoba's face, shivering when Mink's hips picked up speed, made Aoba yelp. Desire fucked his hand harder, smearing pre-cum down his shaft, panting hard as he felt his release coil in his gut—but then he paused, an idea flickering through his mind.

"Hey, Aoba…"

Aoba, his body still rocking, still jolting from the force of Mink's thrusts looked to Desire, hazel eyes barely cracked, lips parted and wet.

"Suck me?" Desire grinned, squeezing his cock, shivering as pre-cum oozed from the tip, dribbled onto the bed. Aoba, after a moment of blinking blankly, nodded fast, then looked to Mink, asking for permission. Mink, with a grunt, pulled out of Aoba; Aoba whimpered at the sudden emptiness, his legs falling against the bed.

Both Mink and Desire's eyes raked over Aoba's spread, naked, and flushed body, but then Desire cleared his throat, Aoba's eyes widened, and he scrambled up.


"Doggy style." Desire winked. "Show us a good time, yeah?"

Aoba shuddered, too far gone to form any reply other than a nod of his head. He crawled forward awkwardly on his hands and knees, his eyes bulging when he came face-to-face with Desire's groin, his own ass held high, just like Desire's had been not too long ago. He took a deep breath, his eyes squeezing shut, face going red as he felt warm, rough hands cup his ass and spread it, the bed shifting under the redistribution of weight, and then he was entered again in one swift thrust—but from this angle, everything felt different.

"O-Oh—" he moaned, fisting the bed. Shit, he was so deep, so deep—

Desire knocked two fingers against Aoba's forehead, smirking wide, one hand wrapped around his cock as he spread his legs wider, Aoba settled in-between. "Open up."

Aoba, with a scowl that lasted barely a second (a particularly hard thrust from Mink made his face go slack), opened his mouth wide, his tongue darting out to lap at the tip, his feverish eyes focused in on Desire.

Desire gritted his teeth with a hard pant, cock twitching under the work of Aoba's hesitant, shy little tongue, at the ravenous look on his flushed red face. "Ah, Aoba…" He rocked his hips, urging Aoba to take him in deeper with a small push against the back of his head; Aoba happily complied.

It was difficult to focus on doing much else while Mink took him from behind, his thrusts hard, yet still gentle and so, so good, but Aoba tried his best to suck on the tip of Desire's cock, flick his tongue against it, wrap his hand around the base and tug and twist and pull until Desire's eyes fell shut and he panted out Aoba's name, running his fingers through his hair.

Suddenly, Mink's thrusts picked up speed, making Aoba's eyes fly open, his hips push back, his voice spill out and his face press against the side of the bed. Desire clicked his tongue, but then Aoba continued to move his hand, not wanting him to feel left out, and Desire moaned, rolling his hips.

"Aoba," he panted out through a little smirk, hair falling over his sweaty chest, sticking to his forehead. "Let me cum on your face?"

Aoba's eyes widened; he felt himself tighten up at such a request, earning a ragged groan from the man behind him and a thrust that hit so deep he saw stars. Aoba moaned weakly, then nodded, too spaced-out, too gone to care about his pride. He was getting close himself—that much he could tell from the way his cock felt like it was about to burst, from the way his ass was so wet it would have felt disgusting if not for Mink's presence inside, spreading him open, rubbing him so well he couldn't think straight.

Desire let out a rough breath then shifted onto his knees, Aoba's hand falling away only to be replaced by Desire's, stroking fast, his fist tight, teeth gritted. He chanced a quick peek at Mink, their glossy golden eyes meeting for a split second, sending a jolt of excitement through Desire that he just couldn't ignore.

"You ready for this, Aoba?" he said, voice a rough chuckle. Aoba could only moan, Mink's thrusts speeding up to the point where he was shoved forward on the bed, his mouth wide open.

"Desire—" he panted, "Mink—"

Desire, his hand sliding over his cock, shuddered, his eyes nearly slipping closed as he pumped himself, biting his lip until it nearly bled as heat pooled in his stomach, made him moan Aoba's name out loud as he came, spraying Aoba's pretty, wrecked, flushed face with his cum; Desire's eyebrows knitted together from the force of it, his mouth hanging open, body jerking and shuddering just watching Aoba being fucked so hard, so good.

Aoba's mouth was still open, and his eyes slipped shut as he felt the warm liquid splash against his face, his lips, his tongue—just the full realization of what was happening, just the fact that Desire was cumming on his face made him whimper, writhe, and moan as he was finally shoved over the edge so violently his entire body trembled, pleasure washing over him in crushing waves, making him scream both of their names until his throat felt raw. Even lost in pleasure he knew Mink followed soon after by the feeling of warmth flooding him inside, of Mink's cock swelling and bursting, buried so, so deep, making Aoba groan in ecstasy with his nails digging into the sheets.

It took a few moments for the three of them to calm, during which all that could be heard was the sound of loud panting, of staggered, tired breaths, and of Desire whispering, "Holy shit," so many times Aoba had to laugh.

"...Feel good?" he asked, one eye cracked, resting on the sweaty mess Desire was. His expression twisted just a bit as he swallowed the cum resting on his tongue; it was more bitter than he expected, though not entirely unpleasant.

Desire smirked, his chest still heaving. "Hell yeah." And then he raised his eyebrows, his smirk turning into a grin. "You look hot as fuck like that, Aoba."

Aoba's eyes widened, and he paled before his face flushed worse.

Oh, right. Desire came on his face.

"...I can't believe it."

"Hm?" Desire tilted his head, face scrunching up with amusement. "What can't you believe? That you had just a threesome with your alter ego and your history teacher, or that I came on your face?"

Aoba hid his dirty face in the blanket, flushed red to the tips of his ears.


Aoba gasped and gripped the blanket tighter as Mink pulled out, slow enough so that it didn't hurt, and shivered when he felt cum dribble out of his hole, trickle down the backs of his thighs. He almost thought to cover himself, but was too exhausted to move, instead opting to fully collapse against the bed with a weak, tired groan.

He felt Mink shift and heard the sound of fabric rustling, and then he was watching his naked back as he walked out of the room (he'd refastened his pants, it seemed). Aoba smirked, knowing exactly what he was going to get, then faced Desire once again. They exchanged a look: Aoba's full of exhausted relief, Desire's full of excitement.

"So...I think that's a yes," Aoba muttered against the bedspread after a moment, mind racing fast. "I mean, if he did all of that with us…"

Desire chuckled, his eyes drifting to Mink as he walked back into the room, two damp towels and a washcloth in hand.

"I guess so." And then Desire hopped up, brushed right past Mink, and picked his boxers up off the ground. "Well, I'm sure you and Aoba have some things to talk about," he said as he stepped into them, slipping them over his legs. "You got a TV or somethin'?"

Mink eyed him for a moment, one eyebrow raised, and then jerked his chin towards the door. Desire rolled his eyes.

"Guess I'll find it myself, then," he muttered with a wave of his hand. "Don't have too much fun without me."

And then, just like that, he left, leaving Aoba blinking away confusion as his back disappeared into the hallway. But soon Aoba's attention was drawn away from Desire's bizarrely considerate behavior when the bed dipped and Mink slid in next to him, his eyes soft and kind and everything Aoba had missed. Aoba managed a weak smile, but it dropped immediately when he realized how terrible he probably looked.

"U-Uh—" He averted his eyes. "S-Sorry about…"

Mink snorted, then dragged the washcloth along Aoba's face, making Aoba's eyelashes flutter as his cheeks and nose were kissed with warmth.

"It's fine." He sighed, and then the washcloth paused. "...He's fine."

Aoba's eyes darted back to Mink, his heart stuttering in his chest, pounding in his ears.

"...He's fine?"

Mink's lips twitched.

"Yes," he said, leaning forward and pecking Aoba on the top of the head. "He and I can...share." Mink's other hand drifted to Aoba's face, and he pushed a strand of sweaty hair behind his ear as the washcloth began to move again. "But I still expect to have you to myself sometimes."

Aoba nodded dumbly, and swallowed hard.

"You're...sure? I mean..." Aoba looked away. "We've put you through a lot, and this whole situation is just…weird."

Mink paused.

"It's undoubtedly...strange, but I can't deny that he was once a part of you. I won't interfere in your relationship, whatever it is. Not again." He paused once more; his eyes were clouded as though he was lost, confused, like he couldn't find the words he was searching for. And then the washcloth was tossed away, and Mink leaned forward, elbows against his knees, a heavy sigh on his lips. He peeked at Aoba from the corner of his eye. "...There are some things I need to tell you."

Aoba's eyes widened and silence stretched on until he, after quite the delay, cleared his throat and said: "Go ahead."

And so, with a small sigh, clasped hands, and closed eyes, Mink began to speak.

Chapter Text

"When I was a child, my parents expected great things from me. They expected me to be the chief of my tribe as my father was, and it was my own plan to follow in his footsteps. But…" Mink paused, face creasing, eyebrows drawing together. His eyes finally slipped open. "Some things happened to prevent this."

Aoba waited with bated breath, his eyes on nothing but Mink. After a moment of silence, Mink continued, a heavy sigh in his voice.

"I met a woman. Her name was Tibah." Mink paused; the way his mouth curved down made Aoba's stomach flop. "She was my wife."

Aoba blinked.


Mink sighed, then pressed his fingers against his forehead, kneading hard. Aoba's elation from earlier began to fizzle out; the tone of Mink's voice was dark and did nothing to set Aoba's mind at ease, no matter their current situation.

"She and I married young—we were twenty-two. But our marriage was anything but easy." His lips turned up into something that hardly resembled a smile. "She was a lot like you."

Aoba didn't like where this conversation was going.

As if he heard Aoba's thoughts, Mink peeked at Aoba then placed one hand against his head and ran his fingers through his hair; pathetic as it probably was, that action alone was enough to make Aoba sink back into the bed with a little smile, bunching the blanket up against his face. "...Go on."

Mink sighed, his eyes slipping closed again as his other hand fell onto his lap.

"What I meant by that is she…" Mink's head tilted from side-to-side as if he couldn't find the right words, as though he needed to seek them out. "She was very sad. But it wasn't her fault." His eyebrows drew even closer together; the crease between them was deeper than Aoba had ever seen it. "It was a lot like you and Desire. Something made her that way. It took away her own personality and replaced it with someone else." Mink's eyes slipped open and he turned to Aoba. "Does that make sense?"

Aoba nodded fast. It was hard for him to wrap his mind around it at first, but as he replayed the words in his mind, their meaning was soon crystal clear. "...Did she have one? A...voice inside her head?"

Mink's lips twitched, and he shook his head. "No. She was only sad."

Aoba's lips turned down. "What do you mean by...sad?"

Mink paused for a moment, his eyes glossed-over, distant.

"...She lost the ability to see things for how they really were; she only saw them for how her mind made them. And it was a twisted version of reality, but it was hers." Mink paused. "...I couldn't save her."

Those words felt like a punch to Aoba's stomach.

"...I' sorry," he said, face paling, scrunching up. He reached out for Mink's hand resting against his thigh, brushing the back of it with gentle, trembling fingers, the weight of that confession heavy in his mind. Mink's own hand was shaking.

"It's fine. It's in the past." Mink sighed, his shoulders straightening, free hand reaching for Aoba's and clutching tight. "But that isn't all I wanted to tell you."

Aoba blinked, one eyebrow raised. There was...more?

Mink's eyes were on the ceiling; his face was tight.

"I have a daughter."

Aoba froze.

"...Ah, I see." His lips twitched and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. A daughter, huh? "...How old is she?"



Mink sighed.

"She's the reason this is my last year teaching. I've been away from home long enough." Mink gave Aoba a wry smile, and massaged his scalp with his fingers; Aoba melted beneath his touch. "I figured you had the right to know. As I said before, you're young. You have your whole life ahead of you, and you have Desire—"

Aoba held up a hand, then slowly pulled himself into sitting position, blushing just barely at the show of immodesty as his hands fell into his lap.

"I want both of you," he said, voice firmer than he meant for it to be. Softening his tone and clearing his throat, he continued. "I...really care about you both. If I lost even one of you, I—" Aoba bit his lip, eyes darting to the ground. "It's extremely selfish, I know,'s how I feel, no matter what's happened in your past. So please don't say things like that."

After a moment of near-deafening silence, Mink's lips pressed against Aoba's temple, making Aoba's eyes go wide.

"Then I won't do it again."

Aoba's face relaxed into a small, relieved smile, and he brought one hand up, running his fingers through Mink's hair. It's so soft.


"I promise."

"Knock knock."

Aoba rolled his eyes as Desire strolled into the room, eyeing both of them with an eyebrow raised, his lip curled. Mink's face immediately turned to stone.

"Sorry to intrude on whatever disgustingly mushy moment just happened buuut I'm hungry." Desire bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes wide and expectant, arms across his chest. "Aoba, feed me."

Aoba's face went blank.

"...Are you serious?"


"...But we're at Mink's."

Desire looked to Mink.

"Mink, feed me."

"That's not what I meant!" Aoba slapped his palm against his face. Under his breath, he muttered: "And he says he's not a little kid."

"I heard that."

Mink snorted, one hand covering his face as he slowly shook it back-and-forth. Aoba peeked at him, wondering what he was thinking, what story his eyes told; but when his gaze rested on them, he found they were...softer than usual. And Mink was looking at Desire. Aoba's own eyes widened in shock.

"I'll cook something," Mink said, slowly getting to his feet. He looked to Aoba, then leaned down, grasped his chin, and pressed a soft peck against his lips. Aoba smiled.



Aoba rolled his eyes and patted the spot next to him as Mink walked away and out the door, chuckling under his breath. "Come get yours too."

Desire, perking up like a dog offered a treat, bounced over and kissed Aoba hard, his arms winding around his waist as he fell back onto the bed, pulling Aoba down on top of him. Aoba laughed as his mouth was attacked with short, closed-mouth kisses, then froze as Desire pressed a kiss against his nose, then his cheek, then his forehead, his fingers of one hand running through his hair, the other on the small of his back, holding him close. Aoba's heart pounded so hard he could hear it.

"I love you, Aoba."

Aoba took a sharp breath, his heart clenching so hard it hurt; Desire laughed.

"I don't expect you to say it back since you suck at knowing what you want unless it's spelled out for you, but yeah. I love you. A lot." Desire kissed his cheek again, eyes sparkling in a way Aoba wasn't used to seeing. "I know you'll love me too. I just gotta be patient, right?"

Aoba was at a total loss for words, so instead, after a moment of shocked silence and light trembling, he smiled and pressed his own kiss against Desire's cheek, lingering for an extended moment. He took a deep breath, let it out slow.

"...I'm sure I will."

Desire and Aoba decided to shower while Mink cooked since Mink wouldn't allow them to help in the kitchen and they were both covered in dried sweat and cum (though Aoba got the brunt of it, inside and out). At first, Aoba protested when Desire suggested they shower together, but, after a few minutes of god-awful whining and promises to behave, he finally agreed.

He soon wished he hadn't.

"Desire, s-stop—" Aoba clenched his eyes shut, Desire's hands running down his wet chest as he was pushed against the cold tile wall, making him shiver. "I'm tired—and we're at Mink's!" He tried to shove him away, but his attempts were futile (and it wasn't as though he was trying all that hard).

"We gotta get you clean, right?" Desire smirked against Aoba's neck, water spraying against his back. "Let me help out."

Reaching over to the soap, Desire grabbed it then ran the bar down Aoba's chest, smirking wider when Aoba shuddered with a light moan.

"I'm perfectly capable of g-getting myself clean, thank you," Aoba panted out, though his hands had already found purchase in Desire's hair, pressing his mouth closer to his neck. When Desire opened his mouth and lapped at the angry purple bruise marring his skin, Aoba shook even worse—that bite mark was tender.

"You say that, but you don't really want me to stop…" Desire chuckled, nuzzling Aoba's neck. " me a favor?"

Aoba blinked. "Wh...What?"

Desire stepped away, back pressed against the glass wall of the tiny shower, rubbing the bar of soap between his hands. He grinned, eyebrows arched, eyes wide and innocent. "Turn around?"

Aoba, with one eyebrow raised and no small amount of reluctance, did as requested and pressed his hands against the tiles, blushing bright red when he felt Desire's eyes all over him, tracing every contour of his body, his skin, his...ass.

"What is the point of—Desire!" Aoba yelped and squirmed when he felt two hands on his ass, and a sharp pain in one cheek that made him shiver. It almost felt like...a bite?

His eyes went wide.

"Desire, please tell me you're not—" He knocked his head against the tiles, panting hard with a whimper when he felt something smooth and slick wiggle its way inside of him. "Desire, I'm tired—"

"Which is why you should let me clean you up." Desire smacked Aoba's ass, smirking at his yelp, then pushed his finger in deeper, shuddering at how easily Aoba gave. "He sure stretched you out nice and wide…"

"D-Don't say things like that!" Aoba bit his lip, hands scratching against the tiles, breath coming staggered and short as Desire used the thumb of his other hand to spread his hole a little wider; almost immediately, cum began to dribble out, making Desire's eyes gloss over. He caught his tongue between his teeth with a dark little laugh.

"He came a lot, Aoba…"

"That's disgust—" Aoba bit his lip, trembling as he felt his walls being rubbed, Desire coaxing out every bit of cum he could find, making it dribble down his legs, plop into the water pooling at their feet. "You're such a p-pervert!" Aoba's voice rose sharply in pitch when Desire brushed by his prostate; his knees buckled against the wall as he moaned.

"And you love it, which makes you just as perverted as me." Desire leaned forward, biting Aoba's ass again, breathing hard as he pushed another finger inside, making a come-hither motion then twisting his hand, forcing more cum out when he withdrew. Aoba was a mess against the wall, his face entirely red, swelling cock pressing against the tile, making him shiver from the contrast of the warm water and cool ceramic.

Desire repeated the action one more time, shivering himself at Aoba's quiet moan, and then, with a low snicker, he pulled his fingers out and ran them under the spray of water, then grabbed the detachable shower head and rinsed any stray cum from the backs of Aoba's thighs and ass.

"All clean," he said as he stood, pressing a kiss against Aoba's neck then grinning as Aoba shivered, his ears tinted red. "What's wrong? Turned on?"

"N-No!" Aoba closed his legs, whimpering when Desire's hot cock brushed against his hip as he put the soap and shower head back in their place.

"There's no shame in saying you are~"

"No way."

"So difficult," Desire chuckled, hands sliding between Aoba and the wall, running down his slick chest. "And you were so honest earlier..."

"Th-The situation was different!" Aoba shuddered when Desire's fingers brushed against his nipples, down his chest, to his abdomen, purposefully skirting around his cock. He bit his lip, the side of his face pressed flat against the wall, his hips pushing back without his consent. Desire's eyebrows arched.

"Even after cumming twice, you still want more? Impressive."

Aoba groaned.

"Don't say it like that…" He bit his lip, staring back at Desire with glassy eyes. He swallowed hard, stomach burning with embarrassment and arousal. "Just make it quick?"

Desire's eyes flashed and he grinned.

"That's more like it."

He flipped Aoba around and kissed him with enough force to knock him back against the wall, his hands gripping either side of Aoba's face, nose jammed against his cheek. Aoba's eyes widened and he couldn't breathe, his hands limp at his sides—but then Desire broke away, panting, and licked his wet lips.

"I won't ask to fuck because I know you're tired and probably sore, but please—" Desire grabbed Aoba's limp hand and guided it to his groin, his thumb stroking Aoba's cheek. "Touch mine?"

Aoba, with a broken breath and wide eyes, immediately wrapped his fingers around Desire's cock, shivering as it twitched against his palm and Desire's head drooped forward, his hand falling away from Aoba's face and gripping his hip as he moaned.

Aoba knew he'd touched him before, in the room, on the bed with Mink, but he wasn't paying much attention then, too distracted by all the sensations to really give it his all—but now, looking into Desire's bright and feverish eyes like this, seeing his face screw up and actually feeling his hard dick in his hand as he stroked it…it was something entirely different.

Aoba's eyes slipped closed and he bit his lip when Desire's fingers brushed against his cock, immediately rolling his hips towards the pressure, his own hand giving Desire an experimental little squeeze. Desire's breath hitched, his head coming to rest against Aoba's shoulder, his breath tickling his neck.

"Your hand feels so good…" he breathed, making Aoba shudder and stroke him faster.

"You're always so...shameless," Aoba said through a moan, rocking his hips forward, shivering when Desire did the same.

"It turns you on," Desire said, nipping at Aoba's shoulder then licking a wet trail all the way up his neck, catching the drops of water already there. "I used to be inside your head, remember?" Aoba could hear the smirk in his voice, feel his hot breath against his ear. "You'd get so hard whenever I'd start talking dirty."

As if to prove Desire's point, Aoba's cock throbbed in Desire's hand; Aoba whimpered, his free arm wrapping around Desire's back, pulling him closer, craving the feeling of their skin pressed together. On instinct Aoba's lips pressed against Desire's neck, his face buried in his wet hair, and then, in an action completely unlike himself, Aoba brushed away the hair plastered to Desire's neck and bit down hard.

"Shit—" Desire jolted, breathing hard, then moaned, one hand braced against the tile, holding him upright. "Shit, Aoba, that fuckin' hurts…"

Aoba, eyes wide, immediately popped off with a quiet, "Sorry!"

But Desire's chest was heaving, his eyes feral and wide, hand shaking as he stroked Aoba's cock hard.

"I didn't tell you to stop."

Aoba froze, then shivered, crying out when Desire thumbed the head of his cock, digging in just enough to make his knees shake. "Desire," he moaned, his lips brushing against his reddened neck, tongue lapping against the mark before his teeth sank in again, piercing his skin even deeper than before, stopping just short of drawing blood. Desire cried out Aoba's name, his body wracked with a violent shudder, his dick swelling and hardening even further in Aoba's hand as Aoba twisted his fingers over it, pumping him much harder than he'd ever pump himself—something told him Desire would like it.

He released the skin caught between his teeth with a pop, panting hard, smirking against Desire's neck as Desire gave a weak little moan, another little shiver.

"Feel good?" he panted out, knocking his forehead against Desire's shoulder with a quiet whimper when Desire tugged harder, pulled faster.

"Fucking amazing," he growled, voice deep, uneven. In the blink of an eye he shifted until he and Aoba were face-to-face, his golden eyes hooded and glossed-over, lip quirked up into a lustful little smirk, and pressed his open mouth against Aoba's with a hot breath; his tongue immediately came out to play, making Aoba arch up against him with a sultry little whine, his own mouth open wide as their tongues tangled, breaths mingled.

Desire twisted his hand expertly—he knew exactly where to touch, that much was obvious, and Aoba, with a needy, breathy moan, humped against his hand faster, cried out louder when suddenly Desire's hot cock was pressed flush against his, his hand a tight fist over both of them, jerking them so hard Aoba's hands flew back against the tiles, scraping, clawing, desperate for anything to hold onto.

"Desire, Desire, Desire, I'm gonna cum—" Aoba's keening mewls were swallowed down fast, and any that managed to slip out were drowned out by Desire's own grunts and moans. Aoba had never heard him be this loud before—the pure, unfiltered lust in his voice made Aoba squirm.

"Cum for me, Aoba," Desire hissed against his lips, staring Aoba straight in the eye as he stroked them both hard, hand slipping over their cocks with ease, thumb brushing against their heads on every upstroke. "Scream my name?" He bit his lip with a moan, head tilting back as Aoba's face contorted; but right before he came Aoba's hands flew up, grabbing the back of Desire's head and crashing their lips together again as he moaned out Desire's name, humping against his fist, shuddering as his cum sprayed against their chests, dribbled over their dicks, making everything slicker and smoother as his mind spun.

He heard Desire groan out his name and felt warmth splatter against his ribs, his stomach, his chest, and he shuddered, a voice in the back of his mind finding it almost amusing that this was the second time today Desire came on him, but this idle thought was knocked away when Desire kissed him again, their mouths gradually falling closed, kisses slowing down until they were one long, drawn-out press against the other's lips as both breathed heavily through their noses, slumping against the wall.

This continued for some time; Desire's arms found their way around Aoba's waist as they kissed gentle and slow, not a hair's breadth of space between their bodies, but a loud knock against the door made their eyes dart open, lips break away.

"Everything alright in there?" came Mink's muffled voice. Aoba, with a nervous, stuttered, "Yes!' and blossoming blush, gradually untangled himself from Desire and stepped under the long-forgotten spray of water.

Desire, with a little smile, came up behind Aoba, arms wrapping tight around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder.

"I love you, Aoba."

Aoba's face immediately lit up.

"...Saying things like that so easily," he muttered, unable to crush his own little smile before it showed itself as he reached for the shampoo. Desire laughed, then placed a quick peck against the bruise on Aoba's neck. Aoba sighed, biting his lip while his smile grew wider. His chest felt so warm…

"We've been in here for a while," Desire said as he and Aoba switched places once Aoba was clean. Desire grabbed the shampoo and squirted a bit onto his hands, then tilted his head back under the water, smoothing his hair against his scalp. "I'm getting kinda dizzy."

Aoba blinked, realizing for the first time that he too was beginning to feel a bit lightheaded.

"Ah, you're...right." He blinked again, his vision going spotty in the corners. He tried to take a deep breath, groaning as it only made his head spin worse. "I'm gonna go outside, okay?" He pecked Desire on the cheek then pushed the fogged-up shower door back, grabbed a towel, dried off quickly, and headed for the bathroom door, towel wrapped tight around his waist.

Upon opening it he took a deep breath, slouching against the doorframe in relief as his starved lungs were filled with cool air. He could see Mink's bare back from here as he stood in the kitchen, something which made Aoba smile with a bite of his lip. His heart felt so full he feared it might burst.

"Sorry we took so long," Aoba said as he stepped down the hall, through the living room, and into the kitchen, shivering at how chilly it felt in comparison to the bathroom.

Mink eyed him, his gaze drifting down his chest, to the towel, then back up again. Aoba felt his face heat up quick, and shifted on his feet.

"It's fine," Mink said, turning back to the stove, something about his tone saying he knew what they were up to, but he didn't sound angry; Aoba's heart felt light with relief, and then, he yawned.

"Tired?" Mink asked, one eyebrow raised, hand wrapping around Aoba's shoulder, pulling him closer as his other hand stirred a pot of something that smelled delicious. Aoba snuggled up against his side with another little yawn.

"A little," he said. "Today's been...a day."

Mink snorted, his lips twitching. "Indeed it has."

"Is the food ready yet?" Desire called, walking into the kitchen, boxers resting on his hips, towel slung over his head. Aoba peeked over his shoulder then looked to Mink, eyes big.

"Not quite," Mink said. Desire groaned, falling into a chair at the dining room table.

"When will it be ready?"


"When's soon?"


Desire groaned even louder, slumping against the table, his arms stretched out in front of him. Aoba yawned again, one hand coming up to his mouth as his eyes watered just a bit.

"Why don't you go lie down, Aoba," Mink said, looking at him from the corner of his eye. "I'll let you know when the food is ready."

Aoba was about to protest and say he was happy right here, thank you very much, but the look on Mink's face told him it wasn't a suggestion. With a roll of his eyes and a little smirk, he shrugged off Mink's arm then headed for the living room, arms stretched out above his head. The towel almost slipped off, but he grabbed it just in time, his face flushing a little as thoughts tumbled around in his mind.

Everything felt so different now, he thought, stepping through the living room, down the hallway, into Mink's room; upon entering he picked his boxers up off the floor, slipped them on and over his hips, and tossed his towel into something that looked like a hamper. In such a short time, the entire dynamics of their relationship had changed—he still thought the situation was a little weird, of course, but who wouldn't, given everything that had happened? But it wasn't like he was unhappy—if anything, he felt happier than he had in...months. Years. He smiled to himself.

His eyes drifted to Mink's bed, the mess that it was, and he blushed as he remembered, well...everything. He shivered, then yawned again, then decided to head for the den to lie down until dinner was ready, per Mink's instructions.

He pushed the door open, leaving it slightly ajar behind him as he collapsed onto the comfortable, worn couch, thoroughly exhausted. Geez, if this was what he was in for, he'd probably die from exhaustion before he reached the age of twenty. He laughed to himself, but was cut off by yet another yawn as his eyes grew heavier and heavier then eventually fell shut.

His mind drifted quickly, floating amidst a sea of aimless thoughts, and before he could stop himself, he'd fallen asleep.

Desire stared at Mink the entire time he cooked, observing him closely. It wasn't like he hadn't done it often enough, especially when he and Aoba shared the same body, but now, it was different. He was his own person. He wasn't just an extension of Aoba anymore, a voice trapped inside his head by some cruel twist of fate—he was...Desire. He was what he'd made himself.

His stomach rumbled and he sighed obnoxiously loud, hoping to get a rise from Mink, but the man didn't spare him so much as a glance. So, naturally, Desire sighed again, even louder, throwing in a nice, loud clear of his throat for good measure.

"Why don't you go get Aoba?" Mink said after Desire's melodramatics died down. Desire smirked. Point to him.

"Fine by me." He stood, arms behind his head, then made his way out of the kitchen and towards the back of the house. "Aoba?" he called as he peeked in the bedroom, frowning when he didn't find him there. Then his eyes fell onto the cracked door to his right and he stepped forward, pushing it open and immediately cracking a smile when he saw Aoba curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

"Guess we wore you out," he muttered, stepping closer and squatting near Aoba's face. He smiled when Aoba didn't so much as stir, his face smooth, serene, adorable. Desire let out a little sigh, elbow resting against his knee, face against his palm.

"That tired, huh?" Mink said, making Desire jump and fall on his ass. He cursed under his breath, eyes wide, desperately hoping he hadn't woken Aoba, but his face relaxed when he saw that Aoba hadn't moved an inch.

"We might have to go easier on him next time," he said with a little grin, his sparkling eyes drifting to Mink. Mink snorted, but his expression was soft, relaxed.

"That may be so."

Desire's eyes drifted back to Aoba, and he sighed.

"He's so cute when he sleeps, right? I mean, he's always cute, but…" Desire's mouth snapped shut, his face warming fast; in a quick attempt to save whatever was left of his pride, he glared at Mink. "Don't think this means we're friends or anything. I still think you're a prick."

Mink huffed, eyebrows rising just barely.

"I could say the same."

Desire smirked, his eyes glinting in the room's low light.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Chapter Text

Aoba awoke to the sound of muffled voices filtering through the walls. He blinked quite a few times, confused and sore all over, with no knowledge of where he was, and with a strange taste in his mouth. He winced and tried his hardest to swallow, but his throat felt bone dry, making such a feat nearly impossible and more than just a bit painful.

Straightening himself up, he winced as his weight fell against his ass and gritted his teeth at the sharp pain that shot up his spine. That certainly jogged his memory.

With a tired sigh and a rub of his eyes, he slowly stood, a thick blanket falling from around his shoulders and onto the couch as he did, and stretched his arms above his head. What time was it? He had no idea, but it was late, he could tell that much.

He wandered out of the den and into the hallway, the voices becoming clearer and clearer the closer he got to the kitchen. Eventually, he could make out words—he even heard his name mentioned a couple of times, which piqued his interest fast.

He stepped lightly, not wanting to draw any attention to himself—from his position he could see Mink and Desire sitting at the kitchen table; it seemed they'd gotten dressed while he slept—and paused just outside of the kitchen, leaning against the outer wall as hushed words drifted to his ears. (He knew eavesdropping was wrong, of course, but any guilt was quickly overridden by curiosity.)

"So, what, you in love with him or somethin'?"

The sound of a dish clanking against the table hit Aoba's ears.

"It's a little too early to be asking that question."

"Tch." Aoba heard the sound of rustling fabric. "So that's a no, then."

"...I'm not denying that I could fall in love with him."

"Well, I, for one, am crazy about him."

"I wasn't aware this was a contest."

"Tch. Well, it's not." In a mumble, Desire added: "At least not anymore."

Mink snorted. "Glad to hear we've reached an agreement."

"Well it's only because of him. All of this is because of him."

"That is true."

Desire went silent.

"...Why do you like Aoba, anyway?"

Aoba held his breath; the house fell quiet again.

"...He's kind. He cares for others, as far as I can tell, and he's captured my interest. I'd like to know more about him, if he'll tell me." Mink paused. "...And what about you?"

"W-Well, it's kinda complicated, y'know?" Aoba peeked into the kitchen; Desire was pushing his hair back, his cheeks a little red, face turned towards the wall. "I mean, it's weird as hell to be in love with yourself, right?"

"I think we're past calling things weird."

Desire gave a wry smirk as he sank into his seat.

"Ain't that the truth. But lucky you, getting to fuck around with two hot teenagers."

Mink snorted. "I only asked for one."

"Don't be a prick," Desire bit, but then he paused. "...It's like you said. He's sweet as shit and always puts other people before himself. He's gonna fuck himself over one day, but it's endearing, I guess. And he's hot, I can't forget about that, plus he's got a great ass, as I'm sure you've figured out by now." Desire smirked. "It's also pretty cute when he tries to be slick and eavesdrop but forgets we're not blind."

Aoba went red.

"S-Sorry." He stepped out from behind the wall, head bent, scratching the back of his neck. Desire smiled at him; Mink's expression remained the same, though his eyes lit up a good bit.

"Morning, sunshine."

Aoba rolled his eyes and stepped into the kitchen, only to be tugged by his wrist towards Desire once he drifted close enough. "Where's my good morning kiss?"

"It's dark outside."

"Do I look like I care?"

Aoba huffed with another roll of his eyes, then bent down and pecked Desire quickly. "Good morning, Desire."

Desire grinned, releasing his grip on Aoba's wrist and sinking back into his seat.

"Your hair's a mess," Desire said. Aoba's eyes widened and he patted the top of his head, trying to smooth it down.

"That's what I get for falling asleep while it's wet," he mumbled. Desire snickered.

"There are leftovers on the stove. We ate without you," Mink said. "We would have waited, but we didn't know how long you were going to be asleep."

"That's fine," Aoba said, stepping towards the stove. As he did this, he looked at the clock on the microwave perched above it, his eyes bulging wide when he noticed the time. "It's almost nine!" He whipped his head to Desire, expression strained.

Desire shrugged and brought a mug to his lips. "You told Granny we were going out, right?" Aoba nodded. "Then we'll be fine."

"But she's gonna be pissed, Desire. It's a school night and we're at Mink's."

"I'm with you. What's the worst that could—" Desire's face went blank; he threw a look at Mink, then slapped a hand over his mouth as he cackled, mug in his hand clattering against the table. "Never mind," he said through a laugh, shaking his head. Aoba's face went completely red.

"I still can't believe it," he muttered to himself, his own hand covering one side of his face. Now that his mind was refreshed, he had a lot of memories to sift through, including ones that would probably make him sick with embarrassment, not to mention those of his and Mink's conversation, short as it was.

Oh. That's right.

Aoba looked to Mink, searching his face. He wanted to know more about his past, about his daughter, about his late wife—what was her name? ...Tibah? Aoba mulled it over. That sounded about right. But with Desire in the room, he knew the chances of Mink talking freely were slim to none, and it really was getting late…

"We should probably leave," Aoba said, stepping towards the table. Upon reaching it he wrapped his arms around Mink's broad shoulders, nuzzling his neck; from his peripheral vision he saw Desire look away, but paid him no mind. "Will you tell me more about Tibah another time? And your daughter?"

Mink's hand came up to pat Aoba on the head. "Of course."

Aoba smiled, face buried in Mink's neck, and pressed a light kiss against it. "Okay."

"You guys are so goddamn mushy," Desire grumbled, eyeing them, his eyebrows scrunched together. "And did I just hear some shit about a daughter? Old man's got baggage, huh."

"Desire," Aoba scolded, clicking his tongue. Mink sighed.

"Aoba and I already discussed it. Not fully, but enough." Mink patted Aoba's head again; Desire's eyes drifted between the both of them.

"She got a name?"




"Pretty young."

"I'm aware."

Desire rolled his eyes, then set his elbows against the table and leaned forward with a cheeky grin. "So Aoba's gonna be a mommy, huh?"

"D-Desire!" Aoba sputtered, jerking away from Mink, red to the tips of his ears. Mink chuckled, a mug pressed against his lips.

"I'm sure she'd like that."

"We really need to leave," Aoba said, his embarrassment making it hard to breathe. Desire snickered, grin still in place, then hopped to his feet.

"You're not gonna eat?"

"Ah—" Aoba looked to Mink, expression apologetic. "I mean, I'm just worried, that's a—"

"It's fine," Mink said as he stood. He flashed Aoba a quick smile, then placed his hand against the small of his back, nudging him towards the living room. "Go get dressed—I'll be out in the car."

"Thank you," Aoba said, his face relaxing; Mink swooped down and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, earning a rather dramatic gagging noise from Desire, and Aoba, with a small shake of his head, smiled as Mink pulled away, and even caught a little smirk on Mink's lips as he headed for the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. Aoba looked to Desire once Mink was outside, his smile widening fast, one eyebrow lifted high.

"Little kid."

"Am not."

"You so are."

Desire rolled his eyes and jerked his head away, mumbling under his breath, arms crossed tight across his chest, but Aoba caught his smile, even if it was small.

Before Desire and Aoba got out of the car once they arrived at Granny's, Mink asked Aoba if he'd be willing to come over again tomorrow, sans Desire, so they could continue their conversation uninterrupted. Desire whined and put up a fuss, of course, but Aoba kindly reminded him that they lived together and saw each other more often than he and Mink did, which, thankfully, was enough to quiet his voice (but not to erase his pout).

"I'll see you tomorrow," Aoba said, kissing Mink quick after Desire hopped out of the car, door slammed behind him. Mink's hand rested on his upper arm, making Aoba pause with his hand on the door handle.

"Can I see your phone?"

Aoba blinked fast, his eyebrows drawing together, then nodded, reaching for his backpack nestled near his feet. He searched through it for a moment, cursing under his breath when he found that his phone had sank to the farthest depths of his bookbag, then pulled it out once his fingers brushed by it and handed it to Mink.

Mink looked mildly confused for short moment as he stared at the screen, but then he quickly tapped at it before handing the phone back to Aoba. Aoba raised an eyebrow.

"So you can contact me outside of school."

Aoba blinked for a moment, face blank, before he realized what just happened: Mink gave him his number.

"Ah!" He nodded fast, face heating up just a tad. Desire tapped on his window, expression blank and annoyed, and Aoba held one finger up. "That's—that's good. Uhm." He paused. After all that had happened, something so small (and late, if he really thought about it) shouldn't have made him so happy...but it did. It really did. "Thank you." He felt his face burn then leaned forward for one more kiss. "I'll text you so you have mine?"


Desire banged on the window.

"I'm coming!" Aoba shot him a glare, then threw Mink an apologetic smile and opened the door, sliding his phone into his jean pocket as he stood. "I'll see you tomorrow," he called. closing the door and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Mink waved once as he drove off, soon disappearing around the corner, leaving Aoba staring off after him with a wistful expression, his cheeks tinged red. With a loud sigh, Desire grabbed Aoba by the arm and dragged him towards the door a little harder than necessary, in Aoba's opinion. Aoba scowled and tried to shake him off as he stumbled along; Desire held on tight.

"I can walk by myself."

"Weren't you the one who said Granny was gonna be pissed we're so late?"

Aoba's frown deepened, but soon a question popped into his mind, making his eyes widen and his palms begin to sweat.

"...What are we gonna tell her we were doing for so long?"

They paused right outside of the door. Desire had an oddly concentrated look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes to the ground.

"...Research," he finally said with a shrug of one shoulder, his hand falling from Aoba's arm. "I mean, we still wanna figure out how I got this body, right? That could take hours. It's fuckin' weird."

Aoba stared at Desire for a moment, then nodded hard and slow.

"That's actually...a good idea."

Desire glowered.

"I'm not a total idiot, thank you." He twisted the knob and forced the door open far more aggressively than Aoba expected, making Aoba's eyes widen as he trailed in behind.

"We're home!" he called, rifling through his pockets and tugging out a hair-tie quickly; his hair was still a wild mess. Desire headed straight for the stairs, but Aoba caught his arm, one hand holding his hair on top of his head. "What's gotten into you?"

"None of your business."

Aoba stared, unamused.

"...You're being a brat."

"You're being a brat."

"You two are home late." Aoba dropped Desire's arm and swiveled to Granny; she looked anything but pleased, arms crossed tight across her chest, expression dark as she stood in the entryway. "Care to explain why?"

Aoba paled as he quickly threw his hair the rest of the way up, twisting it into a bun, but lucky for him Desire hopped down from the first step and spoke up quick.

"We were doin' a lot of research about how this—" Desire spread his hands out in front of him, "came to be. It took a while. Our bad."

Granny lifted one eyebrow, then looked from Desire to Aoba.

"...Why's he so quiet?" She jerked his chin towards Aoba, then looked back to Desire. Desire opened his mouth to answer, but out of nowhere Granny squinted, tilted her head, and motioned for him to come closer.

Desire and Aoba exchanged a look, and then, very, very slowly, Desire stepped up to Granny, hands jammed in his back pockets, feet dragging across the floor. Immediately, she tugged him down to her level by his collar and swept a couple stray strands of hair away from his neck, squinted her eyes a little more, then heaved a giant, exasperated sigh.

"There's a bite mark on your neck." She looked to Aoba, then sighed again, releasing her hold on Desire's jacket; his eyes were huge as he straightened back up. "It doesn't look quite as bad as Aoba's, thankfully." On reflex, Aoba slapped a hand over his own neck—thank God he didn't have any new marks to show, though he was surprised he didn't after such an eventful afternoon.

Granny, with a shake of her head, turned on her heel and headed deeper into the house.

"Dinner is ready," she called behind her.

Aoba and Desire were frozen stiff.

"...Did she just?" Desire motioned to his neck and looked to Aoba, eyes wide as dinner plates; all Aoba had to offer was a shrug and a lift of his hands.

"We really need to be more careful," he whispered from the corner of his mouth. Desire stared after Granny, leaning forward on his toes to look around the wall as she walked to the kitchen. He rested back on his heels, and slipped his hands into his jacket pockets with a shake of his head.

"That's for sure. Christ."


Aoba cringed, kicked his shoes off, and scrambled towards the kitchen; Desire did the same, though he took his sweet time getting there.

After setting the table at Granny's command, both Desire and Aoba took their seats. Aoba was surprised that Desire still loaded up a heaping plate after eating at Mink's—for about half a second. Then he remembered that this was Desire, better known as the human garbage disposal, or human vacuum, or the human incarnation of a black hole—he could go on for days. Aoba pressed a smirk against his glass.

Dinner went smoothly until their plates were nearly empty; that's when Granny dropped quite the bomb.

"Ren and Sei are visiting this weekend."

Desire dropped his fork; it clattered onto the table as his jaw unhinged, his eyes blown out wide, voice stuck somewhere between his mouth and his throat. Aoba, on the other hand, choked rather spectacularly on a bite of food, almost coughing up a lung as he slumped against the table, banging it hard.

Desire pounded him on the back as he hacked until he finally gasped for air, his eyes wide and watery, honed in on Granny. She looked nothing short of amused.

"You alright, Aoba?"

Aoba nodded and swallowed hard.

"Wh-When did they…?" He sounded out of breath; Desire still looked shellshocked.

"This morning," she said, taking a sip of water. "They said they tried to call you, but you didn't pick up."

On instinct, Aoba patted his pocket, then pulled out his phone and tapped the screen.

Oh. Six missed calls.

He slipped his phone away as he slumped back against his chair, groaning loud and pitiful. He looked to Granny, then to Desire; with a half-hearted smirk, he pressed his fingers against Desire's chin to close his mouth, earning himself quite the glare (but it helped Desire find his voice, it seemed).

"...Why the hell are they coming here?"

Granny lifted an eyebrow, her eyes challenging and bright. "Why shouldn't they?"

"Oh, I don't know—maybe because I'm here? In the flesh?" Desire slammed his hand against his chest, then sank back in his chair, one hand smacking against his forehead, combing through his hair, his face strung tight. Aoba chewed on his lip, and when he spoke, his voice was soft.

"I'm sure they won't mind you—"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Desire shot him a piercing glare, then shifted his eyes back to Granny. He steeled his jaw, the veins in his neck pulsing, pushing against his flushing skin. "Tell them not to come."

Granny huffed. "As if I'd do such a thing to my own grandchildren."

Desire bristled, arching forward, teeth bared.

"I don't want to see them!"

"Desire, calm dow—"

"Fuck off, Aoba!"

Desire slammed his fists against the table, making the silverware and dishes rattle, then stood up fast, his chair sliding back so hard it toppled over, and stormed away. Granny and Aoba exchanged a quick look, eyebrows raised, and Aoba sighed, stood, picked up Desire's chair, then slid it back into place.

"Sorry about that."

Granny sighed. "This is what you had to deal with all those years?" she scoffed. "He's an overgrown child with a filthy mouth."

Aoba managed a wry smile. "Try telling him that."

After Desire's outburst, Aoba took a moment to set their dishes in the sink (though Granny told him he didn't have to wash them that night, much to his relief) and put the leftovers away, then headed upstairs after Desire. When he reached his room, he turned the knob, but found his door locked.


"Desire," he said, pounding against the door, cheek twitching with aggravation, "open up."

The room was silent.

"Desire!" Aoba said, pounding harder, relentlessly, without pause. "Open the door! You're acting like a little—"

Desire threw the door open.

He glared at Aoba for a moment, hand on the knob, before giving up with a melodramatic roll of his eyes and trudging towards the bed. Aoba watched him as he dragged his feet, at a total loss for words. Desire was normally childish, that was a given, but this was pushing it even for him.

"Desire," Aoba said as he walked into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. "Why are you so upset?"

"It's none of your business."

"It's definitely my business."

Desire glared, but it was a weak attempt; he eventually plopped onto the bed, hugging his knees to his chest, and stared at the ground, looking for all the world like a toddler who'd just been scolded. Aoba sighed, made his way to the bed, and sat down next to him, the bed creaking under his weight. After a moment of quiet deliberation, he ran his fingers through Desire's hair, smiling just a little when Desire didn't smack his hand or pull away. He twirled a little piece between his fingers; it was surprisingly soft.

"You can tell me what's bothering you. I'll listen."

Desire drooped forward; he was silent for a good moment, his face scrunched up like the words he wanted to say were bitter, but Aoba was patient, content to play with Desire's hair until he calmed down. Eventually, his patience paid off.

"...They'll talk you into leaving me again if they come here," Desire finally mumbled, mouth squashed against his knees. "I know it."

Aoba paused.

Desire's eyes were angry as he looked at Aoba—furious, if Aoba were to be honest—but Aoba could tell there was something else, something barely concealed resting just beneath the angry veil Desire tugged over it. The harder he looked, the clearer it was.

Suddenly, things made a lot more sense.

"...You're scared."

Desire's eyes widened and he snarled, knocking Aoba's hand away from his hair.

"Like fuck I am."

Aoba's eyes slipped closed.

"Desire…" He shifted forward on the bed, his eyes opening, hand cupping the side of Desire's face. Desire glared at him, cheeks red, eyes shiny and wet, lower lip pushed out far. Aoba managed a half-hearted smile. "I'm not going to get rid of you. Ever. Okay? You're a part of me, even if you have your own body now."

Desire looked away. "You don't mean that."

Aoba's hand dropped, and he inched closer, closer until he crawled into Desire's lap as his knees fell down, wound his arms around his neck, and pressed his lips against his cheek. He held him tight.

"I'm never going to leave you. You've been my friend since I was a kid, right?" His eyes glossed over with memories, and he nuzzled Desire's throat, pressing a kiss against the bite on his neck. "We did reckless things together. It's not just your fault, and I'm not mad anymore, okay? I want you here."

Desire stiffened, entirely silent, his arms hanging limp by his sides.

Aoba stayed put for a few moments, cuddled close, until he felt something wet plop against his neck, making him jerk back with eyes startled and wide—but they grew even wider when they fell on Desire's face.

Desire was crying.

Aoba blinked in awe, his hand coming up to wipe Desire's tears away as they slipped down his cheeks, and then he leaned forward, kissing him softly. He pulled back a little, just in time to catch Desire's sniffle, and smiled the best he could.

"You promise?" Desire said, voice cracking in all the wrong places. Aoba nodded.

"I promise."

Desire scrubbed at his face with the heals of his palms, sniffling again, even louder than before.

"God, this is fuckin' lame," he said, shaking his head with a sarcastic laugh. He shot Aoba a teary glare, chin trembling. "Don't tell Mink about this. I won't forgive you."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Desire's arms finally wound around Aoba's waist, and he buried his wet face in Aoba's neck. It tickled, but Aoba didn't say a word, only played with his hair, enjoying seeing such a soft side of Desire. Aoba's heart was jumping all over the place.

"...Thank you."

Aoba took a sharp breath.

"Don't thank me, Desire," he said with a sad, forced laugh. "There's no reason to. I'm sorry for pushing you away for so long. That must have hurt."

Desire sniffled again, then gave his own little laugh. "I'm a dick, I can't say I blame you."

"But you wouldn't be you if you weren't," Aoba muttered, his lips twitching. He pulled back and looked at Desire's face; though still wet and red, his eyes were no longer angry or defensive. He looked...happy. He looked relieved.

"I love you, Aoba," Desire said, his fingers running up Aoba's back, combing through his hair. He smiled—and the sight was somewhat pathetic, paired with the waterworks—then pressed a soft kiss against Aoba's lips.

Aoba, heart going wild and hands brushing through Desire's hair, kissed back as hard as he could, wanting nothing more than to put Desire at ease.

After drying Desire's tears and poking at his homework for roughly an hour (and God knows he needed to), Aoba and Desire got ready for bed and said goodnight to Granny—within fifteen minutes both were in their pajamas (which consisted of a pair of briefs for each and a light shirt for Aoba), and cuddled close on the bed, Aoba's back to Desire's front, their legs tangled together under the sheets, the lights turned off. But neither were quite ready to sleep.

Aoba took a deep breath.

"Hey, Desire?"


"...I thought you said you wouldn't mind seeing them—Ren and Sei—back when they called."

Desire paused, the arm thrown around Aoba holding him even tighter, the hem of Aoba's shirt caught between his fingers. He sighed and buried his face in Aoba's hair, taking a deep breath.

"I thought I was safe inside of your head…and I knew you missed them. I wanted you to be happy."


They slipped into silence for a couple of minutes after that; Aoba was convinced Desire had fallen asleep before Desire spoke again, startling Aoba fully awake.

"I really wanna know how I got here, Aoba," Desire whispered. And then he paused, the hand tugging at Aoba's shirt beginning to tremble. "...I have dreams."

Aoba perked up, blinking a couple of times as his mind cleared of fog, and threw a look at Desire over his shoulder. "...Dreams?"

Desire gave a slow nod. "Yeah."

"What are they about?"

Desire's face fell. "Well, I'm in I-I don't know where, but it feels...weird. Empty. But it's not. It's full of things I can't see because everything's pitch black and anything I can hear sounds like it's behind a wall. It's all...muffled. Far away. And I feel lost. I feel completely...lost. I don't know how to find my way back, but that's all I want to do, and I can't stop wandering around in circles because it's dark and I don't know where I am—"

"Desire." Aoba flopped around until he faced Desire, and grabbed his shaking face, tugged it closer, and kissed him slow and chaste. Desire was trembling all over; Aoba's rubbed his arm up-and-down, his grip firm, but still gentle. "It's okay. You're here now, right? No matter what happened in your dream, all that matters is that you're here. I'm here." He stroked his hair back, pushed it behind his ear, and sighed. "Maybe those dreams are a clue?"

Desire, blinking away the film covering his eyes, nodded slowly.


Aoba snuggled against his chest with a deep sigh; slowly, almost tentatively, Desire's arms wound around him again, pulling him even closer. He gave his own sigh.

"I don't know why you put up with me."

"I'm stuck with you, idiot." Aoba pressed a kiss against his chest. "And that's how I want it."

Desire groaned, hugging Aoba so tight Aoba found it hard to breathe. "God, you're perfect. I love you so much it's gonna drive me crazy."

Aoba's face felt hot; he was glad it was dark so Desire couldn't see his blush.

"Don't say that! And—and don't hold me so—tight—" He pushed at Desire's chest and took a deep, well-deserved breath, but made sure he didn't drift too far away; Desire was warm, after all.

"Why?" Desire's voice was light, teasing; his fingers ran through Aoba's hair. "Are you embarrassed?"

"...A little."

Desire blinked—and then his smile was back, but it was softer. He mussed Aoba's hair and pressed hard kiss against the top of his head.

"Don't be. It's just me. I've been here your whole life."

"...Yeah," Aoba said with a little smirk buried against Desire's chest. "That's true."

Desire took a deep breath and started to speak, but his voice cut off mid-word; Aoba was about to take a peek at him when his voice came out again, clear and uninterrupted, if not a little melancholy.

"I've loved you for a really long time, Aoba."

Aoba took a sharp breath.


"Let's go to sleep, alright?" Desire held Aoba closer and pulled the blanket over them, tucking them in tight. "You have school in the morning."

Aoba rolled his eyes. Dodging the subject, of course. He sighed.

"Goodnight, Desire."

Desire smiled, chin on top of Aoba's head.

"Goodnight, Aoba."

Chapter Text

When Aoba's alarm went off, he jolted awake, groaning as the noise pounded against his eardrums, against his head. With a tired sigh, he sat up and smacked his fist against his clock, only to be tugged down not second later by a heavy arm thrown across his chest. He fell back with an 'oof,' his eyes darting to the sleeping mess lying next to him, blankets wound around them both, binding them together. He rolled his eyes with a little smile.

"Desire," he said in a whisper, "I have to go to school."

"Don't care," Desire mumbled, flinging his leg over Aoba's, eyes clenched shut. "Warm."

Aoba rolled his eyes again, and patted Desire on the back.

"Granny will be mad."

"Don't care," Desire groaned, slightly louder. "You're warm."

"So are the blankets."

"But they're not you." Desire cracked one eye open, pouting just barely. "Five more minutes?"

Aoba sighed, his lips twitching like crazy as he settled back in, swallowed by soft warmth.

"Fine," he sighed, cuddling close, Desire's head tucked under his chin. He really is warm.

Twenty minutes later, Aoba finally got out of bed.

The day went by slowly as usual—but without Desire to keep him company now, Aoba found his school days were kind of...lonely. (And his headaches were completely gone as well, odd as it felt; he'd gotten so used to the dull throb in his head.)

He had people he spoke to sometimes, of course, but his relationships with them were superficial at best. They spoke about their days at school, gossiped about faculty and students, worked on projects together, even copied homework off of each other when needed (which, for Aoba, was often)—but he wouldn't call them friends. Their bond wasn't that deep.

Aoba sighed as he packed up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, watching the kids around him talk and laugh and seem so engrossed in each other. He had other things on his mind, that was true, but somewhere along the way he felt like he'd missed out on being a teenager—and soon enough, he wouldn't even be that.

But of course, seeing Mink cheered him up quick.

He watched Mink all through class, listening to his deep, warm voice, watching as he became more animated when he dove in-depth into his lessons; Aoba could listen to him speak for hours. He sighed, jotting down the notes on the board, and caught eyes with Mink as he glanced up. Mink smiled—a small curve of his lip—and Aoba did too. Then they were back to teacher and student.

After class, Aoba waited at his desk as Mink packed up his briefcase, and then they were in his car, on their way to Mink's house. They stepped inside, Aoba kicked off his shoes, and Mink made them tea—soon enough, they were settled in on the couch in the den, Aoba's head against Mink's shoulder, Mink's arm draped over Aoba, and Aoba's chest fuzzy and warm.

Neither spoke for a couple of minutes as they drank their tea; the silence was pleasant, not the least bit awkward, only disturbed by the ticking of the clock on the wall. But eventually, it was broken by Mink's sigh, and Aoba listened close, breath held tight.

"Tibah and I met when we were thirteen."

And so, Mink's story began.

She was very pretty, but not in the usual way. That was the first thought to run through Mink's head when his eyes first landed on the girl everyone always whispered about, everyone always made fun of. In his mind, it didn't make sense to treat someone you barely knew so terribly (and really, she'd been there for less than a month, but her family was well-known enough), though all of his friends pointed and jeered and laughed—but, more than anything else, it made him curious about her, about this girl that was so strongly disliked for whatever reason. So one day, during recess, when all the other kids were running around and she was sitting in her usual place under the willow tree near the creek, back propped up against the trunk, an open notebook in her lap and pen in her hand, he sat down next to her.

She didn't spare him a glance, but Mink wasn't deterred. He prefered silence, anyway; it made it better to observe. But eventually, when he finally snuck a little peek at what she'd scribbled on the page (a drawing of a bird?), he broke the silence with a clear of his throat.

Tibah looked up with wide, startled eyes—and they were a captivatingly dark brown, almost black, Mink noted—as though she hadn't noticed Mink's arrival at all. Mink tilted his head, his lips twitching as he held back a smirk.

"Did I scare you?"

Tibah shook her head fast; her cheeks gained a good bit of color, Mink noticed.

"No," she said, voice firm. She stared at him hard, blinking quickly, then jerked her head down, her eyes on her notebook. Mink frowned.

"Do you always come here to draw?"

Her face reddened even further, but then, tentatively, she nodded.

"Yeah," she mumbled, pen scraping against the paper loud and hard.

Mink nodded and shifted on the grass.

"You're going to tear the paper if you press down that hard."

Tibah's pen paused. She looked up at Mink, one eyebrow raised.

"Who asked you?"

Mink snorted. "Fine. Tear your paper."

Tibah's eyes narrowed, her lower lip pushed out just a fraction (and Mink took note of how pink they were, almost like she was wearing something to make them that way, though they were just a bit chapped).

"I will, Mister Chief's Son," she grumbled, pen dragging against the paper even harder now. Mink snorted again, just short of a laugh.

"So you know who I am?"

"Who doesn't?" Tibah spoke to the paper in her lap. "You've got those bright eyes like your dad. They're scary."

"Oh?" Mink lifted an eyebrow. "That's a first. People usually tell me they're pretty."

Tibah rolled her eyes. "Mister Chief's Son's got a big head, I see."

"No," he said. "You just surprised me."

Tibah looked up again then, her eyes wide (and her eyelashes kissed her cheeks every time she blinked, Mink noticed). Her cheeks began to redden again, her blush spreading from her cheeks across the bridge of her nose and to the very tips of her ears, but when the bell rang she jolted, pen falling onto her leg and rolling onto the grass. She reached for it quickly but Mink, with a small smirk, picked up the pen and placed it in her hand. Her lips parted as he stood up; she looked like she couldn't remember how to speak.

"I'll see you later, Tibah," Mink said, his lips twitching again. "My name is Mink." She nodded, mouth agape, and then Mink turned around and headed towards the school building.

They sat together everyday after that.

At first, Tibah didn't want Mink to see her drawings, and they didn't speak much (though he still stole a couple of peeks at the notebook on her lap when she wasn't looking)—she said she was embarrassed and thought they were no good when she and Mink finally began to converse, but Mink was patient and didn't pressure her to do anything she didn't want to, content enough sitting by her in the sun, enjoying the fresh air, the light spring breeze. She was different from everyone else. She was interesting, even if she was quiet.

Eventually, one day, just before recess ended, she turned her notebook around, pressed it against her chest, and flung the cover open.

Mink blinked.

"Wow," he said.

She looked away, face entirely red.

"...Is that a good wow?"

Mink's lip twitched and he nodded. "A really, really good wow."

She blushed even more, and her lip began to curve up just a bit. She swung her eyes to him slowly, like she was scared he was joking, that his nice words would evaporate when they locked eyes, and took a deep breath.



And there was her smile.

Mink really loved her smile. Her teeth were porcelain white (but just a little crooked) and her lips were cherry red—the contrast was something Mink found beautiful.

"So it doesn't suck?"

"It doesn't suck."

She squealed quietly and rocked back-and-forth; Mink smiled wider than he had in a long while.

His eyes drifted back down to the drawing: a bird. Its feathers were shaded and ruffled out, and it wore a little crown of fluffy feathers on its head.

"Are you going to color it?"

Tibah blinked. "Should I?"

"If you want to."

"Well...what do you think?"

"I think you should do whatever you want to do."

Tibah rolled her eyes. "You're such a big help, Mink."

Mink smirked as the bell rang, then stood up slowly, palm outstretched. Tibah glared for a moment, eyes narrow, lips twitching like mad, then closed her notebook, grabbed her pen off the grass, and took Mink's hand with a little grin, allowing herself to be tugged to her feet.

"People are gonna think we're dating," she said, eyes averted, clasped hand swinging between them, lips pursed. Mink smirked.

"Is that a bad thing?"

Tibah squeaked.


Mink squeezed her hand.

"Then don't pay attention to them."

That's when the rumors started.

They were mostly mild, since no one truly wanted to mess with the Chief's son, of all people, but every time a new rumor popped up, usually one that painted Tibah in a negative light, this certain look would cross Tibah's face, making her eyebrows draw together, her forehead wrinkle up, her lips turn all the way down. But, as usual, Mink kissed the wrinkles away.

"D-Don't do that!" she sputtered one day, waving her hands in front of her face; Mink laughed as he sat back down on the grass, slipping his bare feet in the cool stream babbling along in front of them.

"Why not?"

"It's embarrassing," she whined, hand pressed against her forehead. "And weird. You can't just go around kissing people's foreheads."

"I only kiss yours."

"Shut up!" She punched his arm, her face as red as a tomato—but she was smiling from ear-to-ear.

When they weren't sitting under that tree during lunch, they liked to wander around the woods together, exploring everything they could find, turning over rocks and catching crickets and frogs and whatever else was too slow to evade them.

"I'm tired," Tibah panted after quite the chase, plopping down, ripping off her moccasins and swiping her sweaty hair away from her face. Mink plopped down as well, pulling his hair back with a tie, glad once it was off his face.

He looked to Tibah, smirking at the red and sweaty mess she was. With a little laugh, he reached over and picked a leaf out of her hair, dangling it in her face. She glowered.


Mink grinned, barely avoiding a punch to the arm. "That's not very ladylike," he teased, pulling yet another leaf out of her tangled, wind-swept hair.

She tried to punch him again, this time barely managing to graze his arm before she toppled forward from the force with a little yelp; Mink caught her by her waist, laughing loud—something he only ever managed to do with her.

She looked up at him from chest-level, expression stormy, but when their eyes locked, something shifted. Suddenly, her face was bright red—and not just from exertion, though that was part of the cause. Mink's own face began to heat up as hers did, and he cleared his throat, but he didn't let go of her waist. She felt thin and bony, Mink thought, his hand absentmindedly rubbing at her dress. She felt like she might break.

"That tickles," she muttered; Mink jerked.

"S-Sorry." He pulled back his hand as she straightened up. With a smirk, she jabbed two fingers against his forehead.

"It's fine, Mink," she muttered, her fingers slipping away. Mink took a deep breath.

"Your lips look really soft." His eyes bulged and he tried to backtrack (that wasn't supposed to be said out loud, it really wasn't), but only managed making himself sound even worse as he sputtered, face even redder. Tibah raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, her messy hair spilling over her shoulders, framing her face. Her lips twitched like crazy.


Mink swallowed hard.


Tibah's eyes glinted, her hands coming up to grip Mink's cheeks.

"Your lips look soft too," she murmured, patting his face. "Really soft."

Mink swallowed again, his hand drifting up to tuck her hair behind her ear. He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"...Really?" he asked, heart beating hard. Tibah, with a little nibble of her lip, nodded once.


And then, eyes closed, hearts pounding, they kissed.

Mink swallowed hard, his hand squeezing Aoba's tight. "I need a moment," he said, expression apologetic, voice wavering. Aoba nodded, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. Their mugs lay empty on the table.

"Take your time."

Mink sighed, his eyes slipping closed again.

"It's a long story. I apologize."

"It's fine," Aoba said, smiling as reassuringly as he could. "I like listening to you speak."

Mink managed half a smile, his fingers drifting up to Aoba's scalp, running through his hair.

"I'm sorry to push this on you," he muttered. "I'm sure it's tedious."

"Not at all." Aoba wrapped his arm around Mink, snuggling closer. He sighed at the familiar scent that hit his nose—but then, a question popped into his head. "Why do you always smell like...cinnamon?" He immediately felt stupid; he cringed against Mink's chest.

Mink chuckled. "Family secret."

Aoba's face fell.


Mink laughed again, short and deep, jerking his chin towards the pipe laying out on the table. "That. It changes your natural scent. It's something we're taught how to harvest, dry, and grind growing up."

Aoba blinked up at Mink. "That's"

Mink pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and let out a staggered breath.

"May I continue?"

Aoba smiled against his chest.

"Of course."

"I look terrible, Mink. My hair's a mess."

"It's always a mess."

Tibah glowered, hurling a punch right at Mink's arm. He actually winced as he stepped back, rolling his shoulder and rubbing the spot her punched landed. Her aim had gotten better over the past few years, that was for sure.

She sighed, staring at her reflection in the floor-length mirror, pouting something fierce. Her flowy blue dress didn't seem to fall right on her thin body, her hair was frizzy and no amount of pins seemed able to hold it in place...

"They're all gonna laugh," she grumbled, tugging down the hem of her dress. "Seriously—my hair is a wreck."

Mink snorted and shook his head, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her close.

"I like your messy hair," he said. "It suits you."

Tibah turned red.

"Y-You're just saying that."

Mink nuzzled the side of her face, locking eyes with her in the mirror.

"I don't lie."

Tibah rolled her eyes, but sank against Mink, her lips turning up.

"Have you ever lied?"


Tibah laughed, wiggling away from Mink and grabbing a bobby pin off her dresser, holding it in her mouth. "Now I know that's a lie," she mumbled.

Mink, with a smile, ran his fingers through her untameable hair that stopped just mid-back. It was always so soft.


"Tibah, why are there scratches on your arms?" Mink's eyebrows drew together; he ran his fingers over the shallow marks, his breath making puffs of smoke against the air.

Tibah tugged down the sleeves of her sweater, eyes misty and shifting away.

"We got a new cat." She smiled and blinked. "She's feisty."


"So you're still courting this...girl?"

Mink's eyebrows knitted and he sighed, teeth gritted tight, eyes clenched shut. Tibah's head was bowed.

"Yes, father. I have been for almost nine years, as I'm sure you know."

Mink's father sighed, arms crossed tight over his chest, pipe dangling in one hand. The chair he sat in began to rock.

"You are aware that her family is unwelcome here? I'm sure you've heard the rumors."

Mink, after a short pause and a squeeze of Tibah's hand, nodded. His father sighed.

"What is so good about her? She's hardly a woman with how scrawny she is. Can she even bear a child?"

Mink's eyes popped open, bright with fury. His mother clicked her tongue.

"It doesn't matter," he gritted. "She's the woman I plan to marry. There's no one else I want."

"You have duties for more than just yourself, Mink."

"I don't care."

His father sighed, eyes closed, pipe lifting to his lips.

"Irresponsible. Foolish." He shook his head. His eyes slipped open. "I won't allow it."

Mink bristled, standing up fast, but Tibah pulled at his hand, her eyes wide.

"Mink, it's alright—"

"No it isn't." Mink's voice was tight. "She's the woman I love. I don't care about anything else."

"You're going to regret this ten years from now when you don't have a son to—"

Mink slammed his fist against the table, muscles strung tight, vein in his temple pulsing hard. Never before had he been so angry.

"I don't care," he gritted. Tibah stood, trying her hardest to tug him back down.

"Then leave. Go with this girl," Mink's father said, exhaling a thick plume of smoke with a wave of his pipe; it seemed to punctuate his words as it lingered in the air. "You've made your choice."

Mink shook his head, eyes shut, expression bitter.

"So I have."


"Mink!" Tibah burst in the front door, running a mile a minute, crashing into the wall and making the pictures hung there rattle. Mink raised an eyebrow. "Come on!" she said, out of breath, smiling wide, tugging Mink up from the couch and out the door. Mink stumbled along behind her, barely on his feet, expression nothing if not confused.

"Where are we going?"

"I found you a job!" she said, throwing a smile over her shoulder. Mink blinked fast, nearly tripping over the twigs and autumn leaves on the ground as he was yanked along.

"A job?"


Mink shook his head, lips lifting at the corners. "What kind of job?"

"A good one!"

"Very specific, Tibah."

She pouted as they came to a stop, and jerked her chin towards a cabin a few feet away, her hand falling to clutch Mink's. "Go talk to the old guy in there. He says he needs a helping hand. Someone strong." She patted Mink on the shoulder with her free hand, smiling huge. "I have a good feeling about this."



Mink clutched her hands, the sun setting behind the mountains, casting a glow on their faces, making them squint against it. Mink nuzzled his nose against hers with a smile.



Tibah leaned into Mink's chest as her shoulders shook, shaking her head as she muttered words Mink couldn't quite hear.

"Sh," Mink said, rubbing her back. "It's alright."

She shook her head harder.

"I-I'm just a failure, Mink," she said, voice broken by sobs. "I made your f-family hate you, and I can't even give you a ch-child—"

"Tibah," Mink's voice was firm, and he sighed, his fingers brushing through her soft, tangled hair. "It doesn't matter. I have you. We have each other. That's how it's always been."

"It's not enough," she whispered, barely loud enough for Mink to hear.


"You're drawing again?" Mink asked, peeking into their bedroom. Tibah looked back with a smile that stopped just before her eyes.

"Yeah," she said. "Or I'm trying to, at least." She let out a little laugh and gestured to the sketch on the table in front of her. Mink raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer; his heart stopped cold.

"She looks" He cleared his throat. "She looks like—"

"Our child?" Tibah smiled, eyes glossy, wistful. "I dreamed about her last night, Mink." Her voice was soft. "She's beautiful."

Mink's chin trembled.

"She is."


"Please, mother, I'm worried sick—"

"This isn't my problem—"

"Yes, it is!"

Mink held his trembling fist against his forehead.

"I understand that you don't approve for whatever archaic reason, but she is my wife." He lowered his fist. "We want a child. Please, make her something, anything. I just want to see her smile again." His eyes were wide and desperate.

His mother sighed, her face tired, sagging, and worn. His father sighed as well, smoke slipping through his lips.

"...I'll see what I can do."


"You're sure?"

The doctor smiled, paper in hand, and nodded.

"You're six weeks pregnant."

Tibah covered her mouth, her eyes wide, tears slipping down her cheeks. Mink squeezed her hand.

"...You're really sure?"

The doctor laughed.

"Yes," he said. "I'm sure."


"We have to decorate the room with lots of dreamcatchers," Tibah said with a smile, twirling around, her woven skirt fanning out as she did. She was wearing dresses again. "I don't want our baby having any bad dreams."

"Alright," Mink chuckled, catching her wrist and tugging her close. He kissed her quickly and she smiled against his lips, then pulled away again, twirling around their bedroom before collapsing on the bed, grinning at the ceiling.

"She's gonna be beautiful, Mink."

Mink plopped down beside her, smiling almost as wide as she was, hand resting on the little bump of her stomach.

"She is."


"Say hi to daddy," Tibah whispered to the baby cradled in her arms. She smiled, eyes brighter than they'd been in years; Mink's fingers shook as they brushed against Mai's pink cheek.

"She's beautiful," he whispered. Mai yawned wide.

Tibah smiled even bigger, face brimming with pride, fingers brushing through the little tuft of brown hair on Mai's head.

"She is."


"Mai—I said no running in the house!" Mink shouted, expression exasperated.

"Look at how fast she's gotten, Mink—"

"You're not helping!"

Tibah stuck out her tongue and Mink huffed, catching Mai and lifting her up as she sped on past.

"You," Mink said as Mai giggled, her legs dangling, "need to learn how to listen."

"Don't pay attention to daddy," Tibah said, tickling Mai's stomach; Mai cackled and kicked the air. "He's a spoilsport."

"Tibah." Mink shook his head, but he couldn't help smiling. "She's going to end up just like you if this keeps up."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Mink smiled.

"Not at all."


"Tibah, how long has this been going on?"

"I-I don't know, I just—" Her voice caught. "You weren't supposed to see."

Mink gave a broken sigh, cradling her wrist with shaking hands, wrapping it tightly with gauze. It was soon soaked with red.

"Tibah." His voice was strained; his eyes flickered up. "Why did you do this to yourself?"

She looked away, her lip trembling.

"I wanted to feel something."


"Tibah?" Mink flicked on the light; the lump on the bed barely stirred. His heart leapt into his throat when he noticed the disarray of the room, the absence of their daughter, the crumpled papers littering the floor. "Where is Mai?" His voice had an edge.

"A friend's…" Tibah's voice was light and weak, muffled by the covers she'd buried herself beneath. Mink took a shaky breath.


"...Don't remember."

Mink turned off the light.


"Tibah?" Mink's hands rested against her stomach; he could feel her ribs through the thin shirt hanging off her shoulders. "You haven't been eating much lately."

Tibah smiled, eyes unfocused, lips thin and dry. Mai wailed in the background.

"I'll eat when I'm hungry."


"I don't know what to do. I don't know what happened. We were so happy, and then—" Mink shook his head, his voice catching in his throat. His mother looked at him over the rim of her mug, her eyes soft and sad.

"I don't know if there's anything I can do to help. This isn't my area of expertise, but I'll try. Mink..." She closed her eyes. "You know, I always liked that girl. Spunky, full of life. Rumors are just rumors. I'm not foolish enough to believe those things, not like your father." Her eyes slipped open, and she managed half a smile. "I'll do whatever I can."

Mink's eyes blurred.

"Thank you."


"Would I be prettier if my hair were neater?"

"Would I be prettier if I lost some weight?"

"Would I be prettier if my teeth were straighter?"

"No, Mink. I'll never be good enough for you."


"These books have a lot of recipes for tonics that might be able to help you, Tibah," Mink said, voice quiet, hands gentle as he played with Tibah's hair—it wasn't as soft as it used to be. He pressed a kiss against her forehead, but the wrinkles still remained; Tibah leaned into the touch.

"It won't work," she said, voice thin and frail, just like her. "Not even your mother can help."

"That doesn't mean I'll stop trying."

"...I know."



Mink cracked one eye open; the room was still dark. He hugged Tibah closer with a wide yawn.

"What is it?" His voice was heavy.

"I love you."

Mink blinked fast, his eyes heavy, mind already slipping back into sleep.

"I love you too," he mumbled, eyes falling closed.

Tibah's pillow was wet.


This wasn't real. It was all just a dream.

Mink checked her pulse again.

No. This wasn't real.

It was all just a dream.


"Daddy, where's mommy?"

"She went on a trip, Mai."

"When is mommy coming back?"

"...I don't know."


"You'll be staying with grandma and grandpa for a little while, Mai."

"But daddy—"

"I'm sorry, but I have to go away for a bit, okay? Mommy and I love you lots. I promise I'll be back soon."

Mai sniffled, hugging Mink tighter. It felt like a stab to the heart.

"Okay, daddy. I love you too."

Tears slid down Mink's face by the time his voice died out, dripping down his chin, leaving the room oddly silent, filled with nothing but the echoes of his words. Aoba swallowed the lump in his throat, flinching just barely when Mink's hand drifted down to his lap where Aoba had laid his head, stroking Aoba's scalp, his hair, making him let out a shaky sigh. But it felt wrong, in some way, like he was breaking some sacred silence, slicing through something that was meant to stay intact.

He didn't know what to say; it seemed Mink didn't either. They sat bathed in quiet, the sun setting outside, casting an orange glow over the both of them, Mink sniffling softly, his fingers still raking through Aoba's hair. It was calming for the both of them.

And eventually, both Mink and Aoba's eyes slipped shut, and they, worn and exhausted, slipped into a deep sleep, lulled by the soft ticking of the clock.

Chapter Text

Aoba's eyes flew open.

For a moment, disorientation was all he felt. Where was he, what time was it? But when that familiar, spicy-sweet smell hit his nose, making him relax against Mink's knee, and the room slowly came into focus, he loosened up with a wide yawn.

"Mink?" he asked, voice scratchy, sitting up slowly and cracking his arms and neck. He looked to his right, and there Mink was, all right, but he was fast asleep.

Aoba couldn't tear his eyes away.

He held his own breath as Mink's chest rose and fell, his eyelids smooth, his face entirely relaxed despite the awkward position he fell asleep in. Never before had Aoba seen him look so young, like he wasn't ten years older than he claimed to be, weighed down by worries and more stress than he deserved. Before he could stop himself, Aoba's fingers drifted forward, tracing the outline of his jaw, of his chin, his cheeks, his lips, his touch so light it was barely there at all.

His heart stuttered and he bit his lip, and then, his own eyes fluttering closed, he leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against Mink's lips.

He pulled back slowly, embarrassed and more than a little confused by his own actions, only to meet groggy, honey-gold eyes and an expression so amused it made it hard to breathe. Aoba flushed from his cheeks to his ears, muttering a quiet apology under his breath, but Mink's hand drifted up, his fingers brushing Aoba's hair away from his face, behind his ear, and he slowly leaned forward, brushing their lips together again.

After a moment of initial surprise, Aoba's eyes slipped closed, his arms winding around Mink's neck, pulling him even closer. The kiss was light and gentle, if not a little sleepy, their lips moving lazily together with no sense of urgency. Aoba was convinced heaven felt like this.

Their groggy kissing continued until Mink pulled away and Aoba cuddled up close, head against Mink's chest, yawning wide and blinking slow.

"I should probably get you home," Mink said after a moment, voice heavy and quiet. Aoba's heart dropped and he frowned.


Mink rubbed Aoba's shoulder, squeezing tight, but neither budged an inch. After a moment of this, Mink let out a small laugh, as did Aoba.

"I don't wanna leave," Aoba muttered with a little smile; Mink squeezed his shoulder again.

"I don't want you to get in trouble on account of me."

Aoba shrugged. "I'm nineteen. It's not like I'm a little kid." He said that, but really, he was terrified of Granny getting angry and putting him under house arrest—it's not like it hadn't happened before. He sighed. "But you're right. I should probably get home soon."

Mink, with reluctance obvious in how slowly his hand slid from Aoba's shoulder, stood up; Aoba followed suit, stretching his arms above his head and yawning wide once more. His eyes drifted to the window as they cracked back open; it was already dark. Hopefully Granny wouldn't be too angry (though, sad at is was, she'd probably gotten used to this by now).

Mink patted Aoba on the back, drawing Aoba's attention away from the window.

"Thank you," he said. Aoba blinked.

"...For what?"

Mink looked at him, one eyebrow raised, lip twitching.

"For listening. I've never talked to anyone about what happened before." His eyes grew distant, but soon the film cleared as though he'd yanked himself back. "It was...nice. To speak about it."

Aoba, with a small gulp, nodded. "I'm happy to listen," he said, shooting Mink a little smile. "She sounds like a wonderful woman."

Mink took a slow, broken breath, his lips twisting up into something that made Aoba's heart hurt.

"She was."

 It took Aoba and Mink a while to leave, seeing as once they left the den, they collapsed in the living room, exchanging more lazy kisses on the stiff wicker couch, and once they left the living room to finally take their empty mugs to the sink, they drifted closer once again in the kitchen, Aoba pulling Mink to him and standing on his toes to give Mink even more relaxed little kisses. Eventually, Mink, a light laugh in his voice, pushed Aoba away with a peck to the forehead and said they really needed to leave. Aoba agreed with a glance at the microwave clock, a pout, and a grumpy, "Okay."

So now they sat in front of Granny's in Mink's car, Aoba nibbling his lip, clutching his backpack as he looked to Mink and shifted in his seat, putting off leaving for as long as humanly possible. Mink sighed.

"I won't be able to drive you home tomorrow or next week."

Aoba blinked, heart dropping fast. "H-How come?"



Aoba had forgotten all about them.

"I have to stay late tomorrow to revise my tests, and next week I have to stay after to grade them."

Aoba nodded, though he couldn't erase his pout entirely. He was going to miss him, even if it would only be for a week.


Mink looked at Aoba for a moment, eyes fond and expression apologetic.

"Will you let me take you out next weekend?"

Aoba immediately perked up.

"Of course!" His eyes darted to the window, and he nibbled his lip with pink cheeks and a little smile. "I'd...really like that."

Mink patted his head. "Me too."

Aoba sighed then, twisting his face so he could lean up and peck Mink one last time; then he finally got out of the car, backpack in hand, and closed the door behind him. Mink sped off quickly, and Aoba took a deep breath before heading inside, careful not to zone out on the curb lest he end up staying outside for longer than intended.

Soon enough, he pulled out his key, opened the front door, and stepped inside the house.

"I'm home!" he called. After closing the door, Aoba kicked off his shoes and peeked into the living room, sliding his key into this pocket, eyes widening when he found Desire and Granny sitting together on opposite ends of the couch, watching TV. Desire wore an expression of pure elation as he hopped to his feet and bounced to the front door, immediately wrapping his arms around Aoba and hugging him hard when he reached him; Granny wore a little smile.

"Welcome home," she said.

"I missed you," Desire said, squeezing tight, making Aoba's face uncomfortably warm. Desire let go after a moment with a little smile and twinkling eyes, then grabbed Aoba's hand and tugged him towards the stairs. Aoba, with one last peek at Granny—and she'd already gone back to watching television, so he guessed he was off the hook—climbed up the stairs behind Desire.

"Someone's in a good mood," he said once they reached his room, tossing his backpack towards the nearest corner; Desire immediately reattached himself to Aoba's waist, nuzzling his neck, cheek, and finally his nose, pressing a soft kiss against his lips that lasted hardly a second. Aoba blinked fast, face bursting into flames no matter how hard he tried to hide it. "A very good mood," he muttered, lips turning up, hands combing through Desire's hair.

Desire smiled too, then kissed Aoba again for just a little longer with a quiet, contented sigh.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, eyes locked with Aoba's as he pulled away. Aoba nodded; Desire's smile widened. "I'm glad." He leaned forward again then paused, chin resting on Aoba's shoulder, hands gripping his waist tight. "...What did you do at Mink's?"

Aoba blinked again, then dragged his arms down and wrapped them around Desire's waist as well, hugging him just as tightly as Desire hugged him. "We talked for a long time. We fell asleep on the couch, too, which is why I didn't come home sooner."

Desire shifted, hands rubbing Aoba's lower back soft and slow. He let out a little breath.

"Did you...y'know...?"

Aoba rolled his eyes.

"No," he laughed. "We didn't."

Desire loosened up in Aoba's arms and gave a little laugh of his own.

"I mean, I don't mind if you do, but…" Desire puffed out his cheeks just a bit as he leaned away; Aoba raised an eyebrow. Bright golden eyes flickered to Aoba's face, but soon, Desire shook his head, his lips twitching just enough to make Aoba suspicious. "Never mind."

Aoba's face dropped. "Tell me."

Desire narrowed his eyes, smirked, then kissed Aoba again, so hard Aoba was forced a step back, eyes wide, face red. Desire flicked his tongue against Aoba's lips, making Aoba shudder, then backed away, hands and all, with an impish grin.


Aoba glowered, but before he had a chance to push the subject Granny called both of their names from downstairs, announcing that dinner was ready, and Desire left the room with a little wink. Aoba groaned aloud, but followed soon after, trudging down the stairs with his hands jammed deep in his pockets. Desire always dodged the subject when it suited him—it never failed. Aoba could feel a headache coming on; funny how Desire always seemed to be the cause no matter where he was.

Dinner was quiet aside from little spurts of conversation between heaping mouthfuls of food. Before long, Desire and Aoba's plates were empty and they were put on dish duty, elbow deep in water and soap with sponges in hand. Aside from Desire making sure to splash Aoba every chance he had (and Aoba squeaking and flailing each and every time he did), cleaning up went smoothly as well. Only once they were back in Aoba's room did Aoba begin to worry.

Well, Desire didn't seem upset, Aoba thought as he observed him, perched on the edge of the bed, squinting at a book laid open on his lap. He seemed...content. Unusually so, not that Aoba was complaining—it was nice to see him so happy. Aoba, with a little sigh, turned back to his homework; he was currently lying on his stomach, textbook open in front of his face, chin resting against his hand.

But then, there was weight on his back.

Aoba jerked his head up, blinking fast, and tried to twist around only to find he couldn't get very far. He frowned in confusion, and tried again, but felt the weight shift, pinning him down even worse.


Hair tickled his face and he peered up the best he could, only to catch eyes with Desire who wore a grin that stretched from ear-to-ear. Aoba raised an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?"

Desire pecked Aoba on the cheek, then settled back, ass against Aoba's lower back, hands on his shoulders.

"Don't mind me," he said, squeezing just a bit. "I just wanted to get a better seat."

"...That seat being me?"


Aoba, with a roll of his eyes and a weary sigh, turned back to his homework. Desire was hopeless.

"Suit yourself," he mumbled, once again trying to focus on quadratic equations and the point they served, pencil tapping against his chin (he couldn't find one, but he could certainly try).

This worked for a while, and Aoba was sure Desire must have gone back to reading whatever book drew his attention once his hands left his shoulders, but all of a sudden he felt his ponytail snagged (and he'd tossed his hair up high once he and Desire went back upstairs, annoyed by the constant tickle on his neck), and something soft and warm pressing against the nape of his neck. He gasped, his eyes fluttering shut, but then the pressure was gone. His eyes cracked open.

"What are you—" He bit his lip when the pressure came back, making him shiver from how light it was. "Desire, stop it—"

"Shh," Desire said with a little laugh. "Just focus on your homework."

With a scowl, Aoba stared at the book in front of him, the words blurring and swimming and not making a lick of sense, but when hot breath ghosted against his nape, travelling up until it reached the shell of his ear, he let out a little moan.

"It's kinda hard to f-focus when you—" Desire tugged his earlobe with his teeth; Aoba groaned, gripping his pencil so hard it nearly snapped, his head lolling forward. Already, as Desire licked his ear, nipped the shell then moved back to his neck, trailing hot kisses, short licks, and soft nips all along it, Aoba could feel himself heating up. He clenched his teeth, his face flushing fast, his voice slipping out more and more.

"You're really sensitive, Aoba," Desire said, voice hot, breathy, and right outside Aoba's ear. Aoba shivered. "It's so easy to turn you on…"

"Desire," Aoba gasped as his hair was wrapped around Desire's fist and yanked, making his upper body lift off the bed; he let out a little yelp at the dull sting, and whimpered when Desire's other hand snaked between his chest and the bed, slipping up under his shirt, finding a hard nipple and rolling it between warm fingers. Aoba's chest tingled and he groaned, grinding his hips against the bed the best he could with the weight on his back, his arms braced against it, shaking hard.

"What," Desire breathed against Aoba's ear, making Aoba whine, "already getting hard?" Aoba's face flushed worse, and he gulped, fingers clawing the bed, body trembling all over.

"N…" He gulped, eyes slipping shut, lip caught between his teeth as another embarrassing noise rang out when Desire pinched his nipple so hard he jerked. "No."

Desire clicked his tongue with a little laugh. "You're such a bad liar."


Two knocks sounded against the door.

Desire fell off of Aoba with incredible speed, rolling onto the bed beside him and grabbing a pillow to place in his lap as he sat up, back straight as a board. Aoba didn't have a chance to move (and really, this position was probably for the best) before Granny came in, door swinging wide open behind her.

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze drifting between Desire, stock-still, stiff, and red-faced, to Aoba, hunched over and even redder. Her eyes slipped shut with a sigh.

"I came in to tell you two that I just got off the phone with Ren, and he said that he and Sei should be here sometime Saturday morning." Her eyes opened slowly, and she stared at Desire with a small shake of her head, then looked to Aoba; without another word, she left, the door shutting behind her with a little click.

Aoba took a deep breath.

"Okay, new rule," he said, sitting up and crossing his legs Indian style with a clear of his throat. Desire's eyes drifted down, and Aoba blushed when he followed the path his eyes took. Taking a pointer from Desire, he grabbed a pillow and placed it in his own lap, face as red as a tomato, pointedly ignoring Desire's cocky smirk. "No doing stuff like...that...while Granny's awake, alright? She…" He closed his eyes. "She probably has a pretty good idea of what's going on by now, but…" He sighed. The situation was probably too weird even for her.

"Got it."

Aoba's eyes shot open.

...No way.

" won't do it again?"


Aoba tilted his head, squinted his eyes.

"...Are you feeling alright?"

Desire raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah? Why?"

"...You're being surprisingly...agreeable."

Desire glowered (but it was more of a pout from Aoba's standpoint).

"Even I can understand why us getting caught wouldn't be good. You really think I wanna lose you?" Desire's lips twitched down and he reached a hand up, scratching the back of his head. "Not saying she'd go that far, but…" He sighed. "You get it, right?"

Aoba nodded, mouth agape.

Desire sighed with closed eyes. "Now wipe that stupid look off your face. I'm takin' a shower." He hopped up, hands jammed in his pockets, before pausing with another, scrutinizing look at Aoba. Eyes flashing with mischief and lip caught between his teeth, he bounced around to the other side of the bed, leaned down, and whispered: "Are you still sore from yesterday?"

With a clear of his throat and wide eyes, Aoba nodded.

"Uh...y-yeah." He swallowed hard, eyebrows scrunched. "Kind of."

Desire kissed Aoba quick, smiling against his lips, then pulled back, bright eyes flashing; Aoba's pulse picked up speed.


And with that, he stepped to the door, flung it open, and headed towards the bathroom, pulling it shut behind him. Aoba stared at his closed door, blinking in awe.

...But why was he disappointed?

He shook his head, shoved the pillow aside, and lay back down, face still hot, body still hot, and tried his hardest to calm down and focus on his homework. But the entire time he did so, his mind kept drifting back to the feeling of Desire's lips, tongue, and teeth against his neck, his ear, his throat…

"Damn it," he muttered, cheek pressed against his open textbook; it felt cool against his overheated skin. What was happening to him? Never before had he needed attention like this, not until recently. He sighed, listening to the shower run in the background—he could clearly imagine Desire soaped-up, naked, and wet, his body so similar, but still so different…

Aoba's eyes bulged when he noticed his thoughts, and he grimaced at the heat shooting straight to his groin, making concentrating even more difficult. He shifted against the bed, biting his lip to stifle a moan, then shut his eyes, his forehead creased as he tried his hardest to will his problem away. This was ridiculous—Desire had barely touched him!

...And that was likely the cause of Aoba's frustration.

He nibbled on his lip, rolling his hips against the bed just barely, just enough for it to feel amazing, moaning under his breath at the pressure against his cock. He could always just masturbate...right? But it had been a long time since he did of his own free will, and with Desire staying in his room, sleeping in his bed, it seemed kind of pointless; but actually asking Desire to touch him was something Aoba doubted himself capable of, and it's not like he ever had to before... He groaned. Why was this so confusing?

He bit his lip until it stung, forcing his eyes back to his textbook, whimpering as he shifted again. This was all Desire's fault! He clenched his eyes shut with a curse muttered under his breath, hands gripping the blanket, hips gyrating hard and slow against the bed—and not of his own doing, not really.

"You alright, Aoba?"

Aoba jolted then froze, eyes going wide when he realized he wasn't alone. He dragged his blurry gaze to Desire dripping wet, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, leaning over the bed with his face right above Aoba. Aoba swallowed hard; suddenly, his mouth was completely dry.

"Y-Yeah," he said. Desire's eyes twinkled. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Desire said, leaning forward even more; Aoba held his breath as Desire grinned right in his face, fingers trailing down his neck, to his collarbones. Aoba couldn't look away. "Why don't you go take a shower, Aoba? It might cool you off."

Aoba blinked.

...The hell?

Before he had a chance to comment (and wouldn't Desire usually have pounced by now, regardless of whatever 'rule' Aoba made?), Desire stood, stepped to the closet, pulled out a pair of sweats, and headed out the door with a muttered, "See you in a few." Aoba was so confused his head hurt.

...And he was still hard. Very, very hard.

With another forced swallow and a small sigh, he straightened himself up and sat back on his ass, his eyes immediately going down to the tent in his pants. He whimpered and shifted; why did he feel so...neglected? He shook his head, fists against the sides of his face. His thoughts didn't make sense anymore.

With a groan, he forced himself to his feet (and walking wasn't easy at the moment), and headed to the bathroom. Once there, he closed and locked the door then stripped down fast, clothes tossed to the floor, moaning and shivering when his cock was free; he grimaced at the sight of himself so hard, but if he imagined it was Desire—shit, the sight made him throb.

He groaned, stumbling back against the wall, hand wrapping tight around his cock before he had a moment to think it through. He shivered at the first initial squeeze, that first shot of pleasure, and rocked against his fist, moaning under his breath, eyes barely open, lip caught between his teeth. He wanted Desire to touch him; he wanted Desire to wreck him.

His free hand clawed at the wall and he shook as his hips rolled, his hand squeezed, his mind wandered. It drifted back to the shower, when they were at Mink's; it drifted back to the three of them on Mink's bed (and at the thought of this, his cock jerked and knees shook). He wanted them to touch him again; he wanted Desire to unravel him, to make him spread his legs while Mink watched everything all over, eyes dark and glassy and so, so intense.

He knew he should have been embarrassed by these thoughts—hell, just a of couple months ago he never would have imagined wanting something so perverse, so unlike himself. But now, as he groaned out their names, fingers wrapped tight around his cock, stroking himself so well—but not as well as Desire—he wanted nothing more.

He slid down the wall, landing on the floor with a dull thud, eyes closed, mouth open wide, whining under his breath. He shivered when two fingers drifted up to his lips, and he licked them just like Desire always made him do, lathering them in saliva, sliding his tongue in-between the cracks. He shuddered in anticipation, biting his lip as his fingers drifted down, and spread his legs even wider, propped his hips up even higher as his fingers traced the rim of his hole. He gave a small wince—he was sore, but it wasn't like he couldn't manage—then pressed inside, whining high and long as they easily slid in, sucked deep inside by how badly he wanted them there. His eyes cracked open, blurry and wet, and he wiggled his fingers in deeper, jerking when he brushed by his prostate, trying his hardest not to moan too loud.

But if Desire found him like this...

At this thought, he stroked himself faster, scissored his fingers wider, his legs twitching and trembling as he slumped forward.

"Desire," he panted, "Mink."

He wanted them both there with him, touching him, kissing him, tasting him all over. He wanted it so badly it hurt.

He grunted and whined and whimpered, knowing he was going to cum soon, knowing he wanted to cum soon; but he wanted to cum at the hands of one of his boyfriends, or, no, no, that wasn't right—he wanted both. He wanted to be trapped between the two of them as Mink took him from behind—or wait, maybe Desire this time; he whimpered his name—while Mink took his front, pushed his hair out of his face, looked down at him with those soft eyes that were still so intense while his cock twitched and throbbed and Desire whispered everything naughty and horrible and depraved in his ears and fucked him so hard and so good he screamed and begged and cried and pleaded for more more more—

Aoba whined, head thrown back, hand a blur over his cock. He could hear his fingers thrusting in and out of his ass (and the sound made his body burn even hotter), and he began to move his hips, imagining his fingers were someone else's, wishing they were.

It didn't take long for that familiar feeling to build up inside of him and take him over, but even before his orgasm overtook him he already knew it wasn't enough. He gritted his teeth, barely keeping his voice down as he shivered and came, whining high and long in the back of his throat, but then it was over and he was left feeling frustrated, so frustrated he wanted to scream.

And as he lay there panting, chest and stomach dirtied with his cum, eyes barely open, his only thought was of Desire's cruelty and the look in his eyes when he drove him completely insane.

Chapter Text

Aoba was humiliated.

After the stunt in the bathroom, he found it hard to look Desire in the eye without his face feeling as though it was held above an open flame. He was so shameless now, so lewd—he knew it was all Desire's fault, really, but this did nothing in the slightest to lessen his embarrassment.

He made it through the rest of the night with red cheeks and averted eyes—things which, judging from his smirk and little jabs, Desire most definitely noticed.

"You sure you're feeling alright, Aoba?" he asked yet again with twinkling eyes, legs crossed as he sat on the bed, cheek against his palm. Aoba nodded quickly, eyes trained firmly on the workbook open in front of him, pencil scribbling fast and sloppy. Desire leaned over his book and kissed him on the cheek, lingering for just a second longer than usual, then said, right outside his ear: "There's no shame in asking for what you want."

Aoba's eyes bulged but then Desire was gone, up off the bed and headed downstairs once again to do God knew what. Aoba wanted to scream.

The rest of the night went much like this.

By the time they finally wound down and crawled into bed, Desire's body pressed close to Aoba's (so close, in fact, Aoba could feel everything he had to offer), not much had changed. Aoba was still on edge; Desire was enjoying every second.

Desire grinned against Aoba's neck, kissing it lightly, basking in each and every one of Aoba's shivers and strained little moans. Seeing Aoba like this was just so worth it, he didn't want it to end—and he was sure Mink would agree.

At that thought, Desire frowned, but he shut his eyes fast, hoping to fall asleep soon in anticipation of tomorrow.

Aoba had no such luck.

By the time he fell asleep, dead exhausted, Desire had been asleep for a solid two hours; but Aoba was too on edge, too bewildered to let his guard down that quickly.

Morning came, and things were exactly the same—except now, Aoba was confused, frustrated, and tired: a lovely combination. But who wouldn't be after waking up to fingers trailing down their chest, hot breath against their neck, and something suspiciously hard pressed against the swell of their ass? All Aoba managed was a weak groan before he forced himself out of bed, shaky, red-faced, and much too turned on for hardly eight o'clock in the morning.

Desire cracked one eye open and gave a sleepy grin, then tugged Aoba down and kissed him hard and wet; Aoba was a shivering mess by the time he pulled away, his pupils blown out, face flushed straight to the tips of his ears.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he moaned, near-delirious, rocking his hips forward against the air. He bit his lip hard, staring at Desire with a look that spoke of nothing but lust—but Desire only yawned, then grinned even wider, hand sliding down Aoba's chest and stopping just before the obvious bulge in his briefs.

"Doing what, Aoba?"

Aoba cried out, rolling his hips again. "Please—"

"Please what?"

Aoba's throat was dry, his head spun, but even then, even like that…

He looked to the floor, mouth opening and closing like a fish, just trying to muster up the nerve to ask for what he so obviously wanted; he must have taken too long to answer because within a quick moment. Desire hopped to his feet and headed for the door, making no attempt to hide his own problem on the way over (and Aoba couldn't look away no matter how hard he tried).

"Not yet, then, huh?" he laughed as he left, much too chipper for Aoba's liking. Aoba, with a violent shudder, whimpered and braced his arms against the bed, panting hard, his body burning with need. What had he done to deserve this torture?

After trying his hardest to calm down—and really, he needed to; school started in less than an hour—he headed to the bathroom, got dressed, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair. Heading downstairs, he whimpered again at the pure need settling deep in his stomach, but he shoved his hands deep in his pockets, telling himself that Desire would eventually snap out of it once he got over whatever the hell this was. Abstaining from touching him? It was absurd.

But it was happening.

After plopping down at the dining room table, Aoba stared at Desire as Desire tried his best to "cook" (which meant throwing together whatever was lying around into something semi-edible), his eyes glassy, unfocused, and his breathing coming shorter than normal.

"...Why are you doing this?" he asked again, thumb drifting to his mouth; he bit the nail hard, hoping to distract himself, but it didn't help one bit.

"Still don't know what you're talking about," Desire said, winking at Aoba as he slid a bowl of cereal in front of him (for him, that was gourmet). "Maybe you should ask yourself that question, hm?" He tilted his head, then suddenly jerked forward, hands slamming against the table, face stopping just before Aoba's; Aoba's eyes popped wide open. "All you have to do is ask, you know—I'll give you whatever you want."

Aoba swallowed hard, throat sticky and dry; Desire pulled away, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"It's not like you haven't before."

...He had a point there.

"...But it was...different."

"Different because it was already happening? Give me a break, Aoba." Desire rolled his eyes, then plopped into the seat across from him with a melodramatic sigh. "Plus asking for 'more,' or whining 'please' with your legs spread wide op—"

"S-Stop!" Aoba's face hurt. "You don't have to say it like that!"

"But it's true." Desire's grin was back; he bit his lip, taking a deep, measured breath through his nose. His eyes were so dark, so ridden with lust Aoba couldn't tear his own eyes away. "I want to do so many bad things to you, Aoba."

Aoba froze.

Desire, with a dark little laugh, leaned forward in his seat, eyes drifting down Aoba's chest and back up, undressing him with that steamy look alone.

"I wanna bite your neck...your chest...I wanna mark every inch of you. I wanna make you squirm and moan and beg for my cock—but I'd only give it to you after you sucked me until I came, made me moan your name until my throat was raw. Would you like that, Aoba? Do you wanna suck my cock?"

Aoba's hands began to shake."It's a shame you're being stubborn, huh?" Desire slid his chair out and hopped to his feet, hands in his back pockets, chest rising and falling fast. He swooped down, warm lips right outside of Aoba's ear, brushing the shell, then breathed: "Your cereal's getting soggy, Aoba."

Aoba was frozen stiff.

This was unfair—no, this was cruel.

"You're so mean," Aoba panted out, body trembling with the desire for release as he slumped onto the table. All he had to do was ask, right? And then he'd get—he'd get Desire's…

He squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted it. He wanted it so badly but asking for it was embarrassing—vocalizing his wants was something he couldn't do, not like Desire so obviously wanted him to. Knowing him, he'd make him go into detail, beg for every little thing, and Aoba… He shook his head. He couldn't. He really, really couldn't.

"Hey, Aoba—"

Just the sound of his voice made Aoba throb.

"—what time are you getting home today?"

At such an innocent question, Aoba blinked, licking his chapped lips as he wracked his mind for an answer.

"U-Uh...Mink late."

Desire came back into the kitchen, hands running through Aoba's hair, lightly tickling his neck. Aoba shivered.

"Perfect." He leaned down again, face-to-face with Aoba, breath heavy and hot and everything Aoba craved. "Granny's coming home late tonight. Think we can entertain ourselves?" He bit his lip, smirking behind it; that look alone was burned into Aoba's eyes.

By the time Aoba finally got to school (and it took a while just to be calm enough to walk), he was exhausted, and not just from last night's silent vigil. His mind was in the gutter for hours, and even in Mink's class, he was distracted—and surprisingly enough, not by the man himself, though his presence didn't help much at all with the memories it brought.

It was odd only getting to speak to Mink for a few minutes once class ended, dare Aoba say a bit depressing, and even odder when Aoba was pulled aside by a classmate once he exchanged a quick greeting with the man—he couldn't even remember her name, but she sure as hell remembered his.

"He's so scary, Aoba!" she said, nodding towards Mink as they sat in the back of the room, voice hushed and conspirational. "I always see you talking to him, though—you're pretty brave." She smiled at Aoba, teeth white and lips stained cotton candy pink. Aoba shrugged one shoulder.

"He's not all that bad," he muttered. "I was scared at first too." He blinked. Was that a strange thing to say?

"Ah, I see," the girl continued on; Aoba squinted at her, combing through his memories, just trying to remember her name. "He tutors you, right?"

Aoba blinked.

"Uh...yeah. Sometimes."

"I remember you asking," she said with a little smirk, half-sitting on the desk behind her, arms propped against it.


...Oh, no.

Aoba cleared his throat and looked away. That was a bad, bad memory.

"Yeah," he said with a grimace. "Not my brightest moment."

"It was pretty funny, though. He looked like he wanted to kill you!"

"...He did, didn't he?"

The girl laughed again, tossing her head to the side with a big grin; for some reason, the expression on her face, brown eyes narrow, cheeks red, reminded Aoba of Desire.

Oh, right.

He squeezed his eyes shut then threw his best smile onto his face, and stood up quick, heart picking up speed so fast it hurt.

"Well, I need to head home—"

"Do you walk?"

"Uh, yeah." Aoba blinked. The girl leaned forward, crossing her arms across her chest; Aoba got an eyeful of cleavage, not that he particularly wanted to.

"Wanna walk together?"

...No, not really.

"I mean, it's not far—"

"I don't mind," she said, standing and cramming her hands in her back pockets. "I live pretty close, too."

Aoba threw one last look at Mink; if only midterms weren't coming up...

With a sigh, he looked back to the girl, then nodded with a sigh. "Alright."

So they headed outside, backpacks slung over their shoulders; Aoba tried his hardest to listen to the girl's words, but she talked a lot—sadly enough, he could tell this much from less than ten minutes in her presence. What he had no way of foreseeing, however, was Desire's presence in front of the school, back against the outer wall, hands jammed in his pockets. Aoba stopped short.

"Aoba," Desire said with a grin—that grin, pushing off the wall and stepping towards the two of them on the sidewalk. When he noticed that Aoba and the girl were in fact together, his grin dropped, replaced by a thin-lipped smirk. "Who's this?"

Aoba was working on that himself.

"Miranda," the girl said with a little wave by her face. "Aoba and I have history together."

"...Okay." Desire tugged Aoba closer by his wrist, expression turning stormier by the second. Aoba gulped; he didn't like that look.

"Why are you he—"

"I didn't know Aoba had a twin brother."

Both Aoba and Desire blinked.

Desire cracked a wider smirk, fingers slipping through the cracks in Aoba's; Aoba took a deep breath.

"Well, I mean, I do, but—" Wait, what was he saying? "...Uh, yeah."

"That's so cool!" Miranda squealed, clapping her hands. Desire cocked an eyebrow, lip turning up even more. "I've always wanted a twin. What's your name?" she asked, mascara-ed eyes on Desire.

"...Wouldn't you like to know?"

The air shifted.

Aoba gaped at Desire, but then he was tugged along with hardly a second to say goodbye to the girl whose name he just learned.

"Desire, what the hell?" he asked in a loud whisper, ignoring the eyes on them as they crossed the street; what an odd sight they probably made.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"...Are you serious?"

Desire paused on the sidewalk, whipping around and tugging Aoba closer in a flash; Aoba's eyes bulged and he slapped a hand against Desire's chest just to keep some distance between the two of them. They were in public, for Christ's sake!

"I don't remember her," he said, voice low and tight. "You've never spoken to her before." His eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Aoba gaped.

"...You actually think I owe you an explanation?" His face tensed up. "I'm allowed to have friends, Desire."

"You never had any before."

"And whose fault was that?"

Desire turned away with a pout, though he tried to cover it with a wide-eyed glare and a twisted scowl, hands crammed into his pockets, shoulders hunched forward. Aoba's defensive armor, slowly but surely, slipped off, and he gave a huge sigh. Desire really was just like a kid—a jealous one, at that.

"Look," Aoba said, "I didn't even know her name until she introduced herself to you." He patted Desire on the chest. "I don't know what you're so upset about, but it's not true. So don't think about it, okay?" He smiled up at Desire the best he could, cheeks red from more than just the nippy air. For some reason, he found this kind of cute, even if Desire was hopelessly immature (but wasn't that part of his charm?).

Desire took a deep breath.

"...That's not fair."

Before Aoba had a chance to think on what he meant by that, he was tugged along by Desire once again, nearly losing his footing by how quickly they walked. He blinked fast, faster than his feet moved, trying to make sense of Desire's odd behaviour—but then he was tugged behind a corner, slammed against a wall, and there were hot lips pressed against his, a body invading his space, and his mind went blank.

So that's where they were going.

At the contact, all memories from that morning and the night before immediately came back, flooding his mind, weighing it down, making him sink back against the wall and pull Desire closer, lips parted wide. He moaned, quiet but still just as lustful, eyes barely cracked. He shivered; Desire hummed.

"Good to see you haven't forgotten how much you want me," Desire said with a grin, breathing against his lips, palm sliding under his shirt, up his chest. Aoba's eyes were barely open and he shuddered, pressing their lips together yet again with a little whine, hands gripping Desire's forearms tight. How could he forget that, of all things?

He jolted with a moan that was admittedly much too loud when Desire's hand slid past his abdomen, brushing by his crotch, but in an involuntary reaction (he wanted it, he wanted it so much) he rocked his hips forward, gasping when Desire squeezed him with a soft little laugh.

"You're already getting hard..." Desire's lips were so warm, so soft, and his breath was so hot. "Anybody could see us here, Aoba…that's dirty."

Aoba shuddered, arms wrapping around Desire's shoulders, pulling him closer and opening his mouth even wider, moaning against his lips. Desire's eyes were huge.

"Already that desperate?" He bit Aoba's lip, palming him just a bit harder, then released it with a groaned out laugh. "I've barely done a thing…"

"Y-You're so mean," Aoba gasped out, rolling his hips, tugging Desire's hair; Desire moaned and rocked forward. "S-Stop teasing me!"

So Desire pulled away, palms held out in front of him, hair already tousled thanks to Aoba's wandering hands.


Aoba blinked fast.

"N…" He swallowed, mind so hazy he could hardly think. "...You're cruel."

Desire grinned. "Just a little."

Aoba groaned and slammed his fists against the wall behind him, head thrown back; the way Desire looked at him, his eyes twinkling with mischief, and that fucking grin…

Aoba took a deep breath, hand drifting to his crotch and giving it a little squeeze; he whimpered in embarrassment and need, eyes to the ground, body twitching and shaking with nerves. He couldn't take it anymore. All he had to do was swallow his pride; all he had to do was ask him to...

"Touch me."

Desire froze.

"Please...Desire…" He spread his legs a little farther and slid down the wall, hand rubbing a harder, squeezing more. He chanced a look up, pushing through his embarrassment; he couldn't take this torture a second longer. "...Please...I..." Aoba swallowed, cheeks burning, heart thumping. This was so lewd. "I I want you to..." He squeezed his eyes shut with a shuddered breath. "I want you to...touch me." He cracked his eyes, squeezing himself again with a little moan. "Will you?" He moaned again, even louder. "Please?"

The shift in Desire's eyes was immediate—the change from light and teasing to dark, heavy, and so, so hungry was enough to make Aoba's knees shake.

"Now that's more like it," Desire said, voice almost a growl, expression so dark and dirty Aoba's heart thumped. He stared Aoba right in the eye, and took a deep breath with a bite of his lip. He looked excited. Really excited.

Reaching forward, he tugged Aoba away from the wall with handfuls of his jacket, pupils dilated and huge, lips pulled into a wide grin. With one last searing kiss that stole Aoba's breath away, made his heart stutter and his knees shake, he pulled Aoba back out to the sidewalk and down the street; Aoba had half a mind to tug his jacket down to cover the problem he so obviously sported, and never before had he been more grateful for such a short walk home.

But he had no clue what he was in for when they got there.

Desire slipped his hands into Aoba's front pockets once they stood at the front door, making Aoba's breath catch, his body shiver. "Where the fuck's your key?" Desire growled against his ear; Aoba shuddered again.


Desire slid his hands out of his pockets so slowly Aoba ached.


It seemed like years passed before Desire finally fished out his key, body pressed flush against Aoba's, hips rocking forward as he searched, but then he pulled away, unlocked the door, and yanked Aoba inside so fast he almost tripped.

"Don't think I'm letting you off with just that," he growled, climbing the stairs fast, Aoba stumbling along behind him, kicking off his shoes somewhere along the way. "I've waited too long for this. Way too long."

Aoba blinked in confusion, but then they were inside his room, his backpack was shoved off his shoulders, and Desire's eyes were darker than he'd ever seen.

"Get on the bed." Desire shut the door and turned the lock with a click, head raised high, chin jerking towards where he wanted Aoba to go. "Show me just how much you want me."

Aoba gulped, but did as instructed without a single protest; the tone of Desire's voice made disobeying seem like a criminal offense. With shaking hands he lay down carefully, heart pounding hard, vision beginning to blur, and made himself comfortable with a hard bite of his lip. Desire took a shaky breath.


Aoba's face went even redder and he jerked up. "D-Desire—"

Desire opened the door a fraction, hand tight on the knob, and cocked one eyebrow. "I can always leave."

"...This isn't fair."

"You were the one who asked me to touch you." Desire grinned again and shut the door; Aoba held his breath. "Unless you want me to strip you, which I wouldn't mind doing, I suggest you—"


Aoba fumbled with his shirt, eyes to the wall, and yanked it over his head fast—Desire clicked his tongue.

"That's not very sexy."

Aoba glared.

"Shut up."

Desire laughed and leaned against the door, arms crossed, foot propped up against it. He jerked his chin again. "Keep going."

Aoba huffed and rolled his eyes, then lay back and got to work on the buckle of his pants. Unlike with Mink, he wasn't really nervous—hell, he was more excited than anything else—but the apprehension was definitely still there, making his hands shake, his stomach burn. But it was...different. Desire had already seen him fully, already knew every single thing about him; there was nothing left to hide. It was just so…

"...Embarrassing," Aoba muttered, face so red he could physically feel it.

"You won't be complaining once I'm inside of you."

Aoba's heart thudded.

"...How can you say things like that?" he muttered, slipping his pants over his hips with a little whine and eyes screwed shut; he was so exposed.

"It's a gift."

Aoba smirked, kicking his pants the rest of the way off, but his eyes flew open when he sensed Desire's presence and felt the bed dip. He gasped, staring straight into Desire's bright golden eyes, tinted with longing, swimming with want; but there was something else, too, something that Aoba could hardly take.

"It's finally happening," Desire said, voice breathless, face relaxed, happy. Aoba's heart gave another thud, but for some reason, this one was even more painful.

"It is," he said, running his fingers through Desire's hair, pulling his face closer so their lips brushed together. Desire kissed him back without a moment's hesitation, hands sliding down Aoba's chest, rubbing up-and-down, so slow Aoba couldn't help but moan. Compared to the frenzy he felt earlier, this was...nice. Surprisingly so.

But he wanted more.

"Please don't tease me," he breathed. "I can't take it, ple—" His back arched and his voice was lost when suddenly, heat enveloped his nipple. "Ngh," he groaned, rocking up, though his hips met nothing but air; Desire had curved away, his narrow eyes holding a mischievous glint.

"You like it when I play with your nipples?" Desire asked as he popped off, hot breath against moist skin; Aoba jerked. Desire, without waiting for a response, dove back down again, dragging his tongue flat against Aoba's nipple, lapping at it, licking all around until it was hard, red, and so, so sensitive. Aoba groaned out his name, jerking his hips yet again when Desire bit down, sending electric shocks all throughout his body.

"Desire," he panted, eyes glassy, unfocused, staring at the ceiling. "Please—"

"Already begging?" Desire's voice was strained. "You're gonna be the death of me, Aoba." He slid down Aoba's body fast, panting so raggedly Aoba felt every little breath against his sensitized skin, until he was exactly where Aoba wanted him—but he didn't stop. Aoba's eyes opened; he blinked in confusion.

And then his legs were hoisted over Desire's shoulders, his cheeks were parted, and something warm, wet, and entirely unexpected pressed against his hole.

After his initial surprise, embarrassment flooded Aoba from head-to-toe and he yanked at Desire's hair, trying to dislodge him, panting out protest after protest as he continued to lick so hard and fast Aoba whimpered. With a roll of his eyes and a smirk he didn't even try to hide, Desire pulled back, and said:

"We don't have any lube, and I don't wanna hurt you. I'm not as big as Mink, but…" He bit his lip. "I'm not as patient, either."

Aoba's hands shook.

"B-But your tongue—"

"You don't taste bad." Desire shrugged, then bit his lip again, eyes flashing. "I like it." He breathed hotly against Aoba's hole, shoulders tensing, muscles rippling, then dragged his tongue flat against his taint, stopping just before his sack.

Aoba squeezed his eyes shut, head flopping back against the pillow. His cock gave a weak pulse and he moaned, humping against the air, neck curved, hair already a mess. He bit his lip hard and squeaked when Desire's tongue lapped against his hole again, but then he felt soft lips brush against his puckered skin and he shuddered with a long, loud moan.

"Oh God—" He choked on his words, gripping Desire's hair harder when he began to suck, tongue still flicking against his hole, prying him open, making him so wet he shuddered. Aoba relaxed the best he could, his body easily sucking Desire's tongue inside; it was Desire's turn to moan.

He forced his tongue in deeper and Aoba gasped—the feeling was so unusual, the way it moved around like it was alive, felt so flexible and wet and so strangely good. Letting out a little whine, Aoba shoved his hips back, mouth open, heavy pants falling out without pause.

Desire stared up at him with hooded eyes, nails digging into Aoba's ass, pulling him closer as he sucked with all his might, sliding his tongue all around inside of him; and when Aoba looked down and locked eyes with Desire, a surge of pleasure shot straight through his body and he writhed, bucking his hips back, cock leaking and bobbing and so red it looked like he might burst.

Pulling back with his own gasp, Desire panted hard, grabbing Aoba's cock in a tight fist, jerking him as the fingers of his other hand drifted up, tickling the rim of Aoba's hole. Aoba humped forward against his hand then pushed back against his fingers, unsure of which he wanted more in his lust muddled mind.

Tongueing Aoba's balls with a smirk and jerking him hard but slow, just enough to tease him, make him moan and squirm and do everything Desire loved, Desire bent down and licked his finger, pushing it inside slowly, eyes fluttering when heat wrapped around him, pulling him in even deeper.

"You really do want it," he breathed, tip of his tongue darting out to trace the rim of Aoba's hole. Aoba nodded with a high whine, mind swimming, body twitching limply as he lay there gasping. "Tell me how much?" Desire gave his cock a harsh jerk; pre-cum dribbled over his fingers.

"S-So much!" Aoba hunched his shoulders and moaned, hips rocking forward, back, begging for more.

"Not good enough," Desire said with a breathy laugh, nibbling on his inner thigh. "Tell me details or I won't put another finger in." He curled his finger for good measure and Aoba groaned.


"I think we're past that by now, Aoba," Desire growled, stroking Aoba even harder, twisting his hand all around, paying special attention to the tip with the pad of his thumb. He shivered at how wet he was. "Tell me."

Aoba swallowed hard, the words stuck in his dry throat. But he wanted it, he wanted it so so so much—

"Tell me what you want me to do to you."

Aoba's vision flickered.

"...I-I want...your fingers...inside—" Another finger slid in, making Aoba's back arch.

"How many?"

Aoba gritted his teeth.


A third slid inside and Aoba writhed, tugging Desire's hair so hard his fingers hurt. Desire hummed, cheek against Aoba's thigh, lips parted and wet as he worked his fingers in and out, wiggling them, scissoring them, stretching Aoba so wide he could see straight inside.

"Like this?" He curled his fingers especially hard; Aoba nodded quick and gasped.

"E-Exactly like—Oh God—"

Desire's tongue was back, licking right next to his fingers as they slid in and out.

"So loud…" Desire smirked, catching his tongue between his teeth. "So messy." He jammed his fingers in even harder; the squish was loud and wet.

Aoba bit his lip, flushed chest rising and falling so fast he couldn't catch his breath. "Please—"

"Please what?"

Aoba screwed his eyes shut; the stimulation of his cock, his ass, Desire's dirty words, dark eyes, raspy voice—everything was far too much. He swallowed hard, though it didn't help at all, tugged Desire's hair harder, and groaned, voice so high and breathy he sounded like a whore.

"Fuck me!" he gasped, lifting his hips, riding Desire's fingers, forcing them as deep as they could go. "Please f-fuck me!"

Desire pulled his fingers out so fast it almost hurt.

Aoba blinked and held back a disappointed moan, his fingers falling from Desire's hair, but squeaked when he felt something else pressed against his ass, something hotter and wetter and much, much bigger.

He bucked back with a high whine, eyes drifting up to Desire, mouth open wide. He reached up blindly and Desire laughed, leaning forward just enough so Aoba could hug him closer, his eyes watery and barely open.

"Tell me if it hurts too much," Desire growled. Aoba nodded fast.

So Desire began to push inside, handfuls of Aoba's ass in each hand, cock spreading him open much easier than expected. He gasped, head falling forward, and humped just barely, rocking his hips, pushing farther inside inch by agonizing inch.

"S-So tight—Aoba—"

He shivered all over as Aoba sucked him in with nothing but moans and whimpers and gyrating hips. Desire nipped at Aoba's ear with a low snicker, panting against the shell, rocking his hips harder; only halfway inside and he already felt his control slipping.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," he breathed with a rough thrust of his hips; Aoba shook like a leaf underneath him. "Think you can take it?"


Desire slammed inside.

Aoba cried out just short of a scream and arched forward, chest pressed against Desire's, cock trapped between them. It burned, but he wanted it so much he hardly felt that—all he felt was something big and throbbing inside of him, finally, finally after wanting it so much he thought he was going insane.

"You're i-inside," he gasped; Desire tried to laugh, but only managed to groan.

"You really are gonna be the death of me," he said, voice uneven, hips rocking slow and deep. He didn't really pull out, only swiveled his hips, arms shaking as he braced them next to Aoba's head. "It's so hot…" He sounded like he was talking to himself, but the words fell on Aoba's ears nevertheless, making him tighten up, suck Desire in deeper. Desire actually whimpered.

"I love you so much," he gasped out, pulling out just a bit before easing back inside, testing out the give, seeing exactly what Aoba could take. Aoba groaned and pushed back, pulling Desire even closer, hugging him even tighter.

"L-Love you t-too—"

Desire's eyes went wide.

With a moan of Aoba's name, he pulled out even quicker, even faster, then slammed back inside, gasping at how Aoba tried to suck him in as deep as he could go, tried to keep him from leaving again only to loosen up just enough to make it feel so amazing he could hardly think.

"Desire, Desire, Desire—" Aoba chanted as Desire rocked forward, in-and-out, jarring Aoba's body each time he rammed himself inside again. His hips snapped faster and faster, making him pant so loudly it was just short of heaving—but then, his hips slowed, barely moving at all. He leaned back just a bit and grinned in Aoba's red, sweaty, drool-covered face with a lick of his dry lips.

"How is it?" he asked, voice tight. "As good as Mink?"

Aoba nodded fast, trying to blink Desire's face into focus. "S-So good—"

Desire grinned wider, eyes low, face red. "How do I feel inside of you?"

"Amazing!" Aoba moaned, fingers scratching against Desire's scalp. "Don't stop!" He rocked back desperately, but Desire only laughed and held him still with a hand on his hip.

"If you want it that bad, you can do it yourself, right?"

Aoba blinked, confused. Desire shivered.

"I want you to ride me, Aoba."

Aoba's heart picked up speed; his hands shook.

"I-I don't know h-how—"

But Desire didn't listen; he pulled out quickly, groaning at the loss of warmth (and Aoba was so hot, so wet, so tight), and settled back against the headboard, legs spread wide. He patted his thighs with a lusty little grin, and Aoba, with a shiver and a deep breath, crawled closer.

"At least take your shirt off," he grumbled, indignation creeping up at the belated realization that Desire was fully clothed while he clearly was not. Desire laughed, but did as asked, lifting and tossing his shirt aside fast. Aoba nibbled his lip, eyes raking down his flushed and sweaty chest, then drifting back up to his face.

"Pants too?" Desire asked, hands already moving to his hips.

Aoba nodded just a little shyly.

Soon Desire lay just as naked as Aoba, patting his thighs again, curling his fingers, pants tossed near the foot of the bed.

"Don't make me wait much longer."

Aoba glowered, but it was half-hearted; quickly, he straddled Desire's thighs with a little moan, reaching behind him and grabbing his cock. It twitched in his palm, making Aoba's own dick jerk and throb, and he stroked it slowly, shivering at how hard and hot it felt against his hand.

"I-I probably won't be any g-good," he said, moaning as he lined Desire up, rubbing the tip against his hole—it was so wet. Desire tossed his head back against the headboard with a heavy breath.

"You'll be amazing, trust me."

Aoba clenched his eyes shut and dropped down faster than intended, eyes flying open when his ass rested flat against Desire's groin, filling him so much his thighs shook. He winced—he was so, so deep—but swiveled his hips just a little, testing it out, then raised himself bit before falling back down. He yelped.

Christ, that felt good.

Desire's hands drifted to Aoba's hips and he helped pull him up, grinning as he forced him back down, humping up as he fell.

"You look so good like this."

Aoba leaned forward, forehead against Desire's shoulder, eyes closed, beginning to bounce on Desire's dick, shivering all the while.

"Th-That's embarrassing—"

"But it's true."

Desire snapped his hips up with a long groan; Aoba barely managed a whimper, scrambled as his mind felt, mouth open wide. "You're so deep—" he gasped, immediately embarrassed by the words; but judging by the power behind Desire's next thrust, he more than appreciated the honesty.

"Am I?" he laughed, slamming Aoba down harder. Aoba shuddered and whined, bouncing faster, swiveling his hips around even more.


"Can't get enough?"

Aoba shook his head with a keening moan.

"Desire—" He pulled Desire's hair; Desire hissed and jerked his hips up hard.

"Neither can I," he groaned. "Shit, you're addictive—" He clenched his eyes shut and rolled his hips up, holding Aoba against his groin as he gyrated hard. Aoba whimpered and clawed at his neck, hands sliding down his back, leaving angry red trails of torn skin streaking down. Desire threw his head back, eyes barely open, then lifted Aoba up and slammed him back down yet again, so hard Aoba jolted, arching back, nails scraping down Desire's chest as he struggled for leverage. Aoba almost screamed.

"Ahh—ah—" Aoba cracked his eyes open and stared down at Desire, lips parted wide, drool sliding down his chin—but he wasn't in the state of mind to care one bit for appearances. Desire, with a little smirk and another hard roll of his hips, bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose; and then, without warning, he slowed down.

"Not again," Aoba whined, arching forward once more, wrapping his arms around Desire's neck and squeezing tight. Desire chuckled and smacked Aoba's ass; Aoba yelped and curved back on instinct, hands locked behind Desire, head lolling forward.

"Bite me," Desire said with a rough upwards thrust, baring his neck; the old mark was still there, faded to a yellowish purple. "Bite me as hard as you can."

"Wh-What if G-Granny sees—"

Desire smirked, then rocked upwards harder, but still just as slow, hand drifting down between them, clamping around the base of Aoba's swollen dick.

"Bite me or I won't let you cum."

Aoba took a short breath, arms trembling even worse.

"Y...You're cruel!"

Desire's eyes flashed.

"Don't make me show you how cruel I can be."

With a moan and a shudder so violent he lost his breath, Aoba leaned forward, brushing his lips against against Desire's shoulder, up to his pulse, pausing just behind his ear. He grabbed a handful of sweaty hair and pushed it back, then, with a deep breath, opened his lips and bit down hard.

The effect was immediate—Desire rammed into Aoba with renewed vigor, humping upwards so violently Aoba's teeth nearly popped off his neck; but he only held on tighter, groaning against Desire's skin, shivering when Desire cried out in what sounded like terrible pain.

He let go only once he knew he was on the verge of drawing blood, but Desire pressed his face back with a choked out: "Don't stop!"

Aoba, bringing his hips down to match Desire's frantic thrusts the best he could, bit down again, right below the new mark, sucking and licking and biting as hard as he could; Desire's moans were so loud they hurt Aoba's ears.

"You're so perfect," Desire gasped out once Aoba popped off again, panting against his neck. "Oh, G-God—" He squeezed his eyes shut, hand on Aoba's cock beginning to stroke, making Aoba's eyes bulge wide.

"Ngh—D-Desire—" Aoba writhed on his lap, bouncing faster, bouncing harder, sliding up and down on Desire's cock as it twitched and throbbed inside of him. His ass felt almost numb with pleasure and he gave a weak moan right outside Desire's ear, arms winding tighter, hips grinding harder. "I-I'm gonna—"

"Me too," Desire gritted, digging his nails into Aoba's ass as he slammed him down, the fingers of his other hand twisting all over his jerking, sopping-wet cock, squeezing and slipping around the head on every upstroke. Aoba panted out Desire's name like a mantra, white-hot pleasure building inside of him to the point where he couldn't take it anymore.

With a hard, hard bite of Desire's shoulder—and Desire screamed from the pain—Aoba came, spraying both of them with hot cum, riding Desire until he felt his cock swell and release and fill him up so much he himself nearly screamed.

He slumped forward, practically sobbing as Desire's cum splashed around inside of him, making his thighs tremble, his knees shake from the feeling and thought alone. His whole body felt light, but he was so heavy, so tired…

"Hey, Aoba," Desire panted with a tired grin. "Don't fall asleep on me, now."

Aoba groaned, weight completely supported by Desire, sweaty face against his chest.


Desire laughed—though the sound was light and airy—and carefully lifted Aoba off of his lap, sucking in a sharp breath at the torrents of cum sliding down Aoba's thighs when he moved, flopping against the bed, ass to Desire.

"...I came a lot."

Aoba cringed.

"...Did you really feel the need to announce that?"


Aoba snorted, sighing happily when Desire plopped down behind him, officially donning Aoba the little spoon as he cuddled up close, arm around Aoba's waist. Aoba shifted, then grimaced—he felt wet and sticky all over.

"Desire, I need a shower—"

"No, you don't."

"I'm disgusting—"

"You're fine."

Aoba pouted.

"...Granny's gonna see us like this."

"She's not coming home 'til ten. Said we've gotta fend for ourselves for dinner."

Aoba blinked; Desire pulled him closer.

"I just wanna cuddle for a bit, alright? We can shower later—we've got plenty of time."

Aoba sighed, but sank back against Desire; he was really, really warm, and Aoba was so tired he felt his mind already beginning to drift.


And Desire got his way.

Chapter Text

Aoba jumped awake from the sound of his ringtone slicing through the still air. He groaned, throat dry, body sore, and flopped around on the small, sticky bed, eyes drifting across the dim room as he tried his hardest to pinpoint the direction of the noise.

Desire's eyes slipped open just a crack when Aoba stirred, and he yawned huge, then hugged Aoba closer with sleepy words mumbled too quietly for him to catch. Aoba tried to wiggle away, and it took a moment, given Desire's grip, but once free he crawled over Desire and got off the bed slowly, making his way towards his backpack on the other side of the room (which he was relatively certain was the source of the noise, judging by how muffled it was).

By the time he pulled his phone out (and it was buried under multiple papers and books), it had already stopped ringing, and he groaned aloud when the screen flashed with Sei's name. With a sigh, Aoba trudged back to the bed and plopped down, clicking Sei's contact and pressing his phone against his ear as he fell.

It took quite a few rings, and Aoba was nearly ready to succumb to sleepiness and curl back up next to Desire, but then Sei answered, and Aoba's heart gave a hard tug.

"Hey, Aoba!"

"Hi," Aoba said. He cleared his throat; he sounded terrible. "Sorry I missed your call—I couldn't find my phone."

"It's okay! I just wanted to let you know that we should be there before noon tomorrow, in case Granny didn't tell you," Sei said, excitement obvious in his voice. "I can't wait to see you."

Aoba's chest warmed and he smiled. "Same here. I bet you can't wait to eat Granny's cook—" Aoba gasped as suddenly he was tugged onto his back, landing with a muffled 'oof,' and warm limbs wrapped around him like he was the most comfortable body pillow in the world. He threw a half-hearted glare at Desire from the corner of his eye, but judging by his closed eyes and deep, even breaths, he was practically asleep.

"...Are you okay, Aoba?"

Aoba let out a little laugh. "Yeah. I'm fine." He sighed, shifting closer to Desire, smiling wider when his arms wound tighter around his waist. "When are you guys gonna leave?"

"Probably Monday morning," Sei said. "We can take you to school if you want!"

"Sounds great," Aoba said. Then, he paused. "...I've really missed you guys."

Aoba could imagine Sei's smile, warm and genuine. "We've missed you too."

Aoba sighed, biting his lip hard. "...We should probably talk about everything that's happened, huh?"

Sei fell silent for a few moments, then let out a loud breath against the receiver; Aoba cringed from the blast against his ear.

"Yeah. We should." His voice sounded softer than normal, almost melancholy. "But like I said, I don't blame you—if anything, it was...his fault, right?"

For some reason, those words hurt.

"...Not...exactly. I mean—" Aoba took a deep breath. "It's complicated. We—I'll explain everything when you get here, okay?"

"Okay," Sei said. Silence dragged on for a few moments until, a little awkwardly, Sei finally said: "Well, see you tomorrow, Aoba."

"See you."

After hanging up, Aoba tossed his phone aside with a loud sigh, heart just a little heavier than he'd like it to be—how were they going to explain everything? So much had happened... With another little sigh, he looked to Desire, only to find his eyes cracked open and lip pushed out.

"He hates me."

Aoba's chest tightened.

"No, he doesn't. He just hasn't gotten a chance to know you." Aoba flopped onto his side and pressed Desire closer, rubbing his back up-and-down, enjoying his warmth more than he'd like to admit. "I'm sure they'll love you—it might just take some time."

"But I hurt Sei," he mumbled. "And you. I got us shipped off to Granny's."

"And it hasn't been bad here, has it? I mean…" Aoba nibbled his lip. "The way it happened wasn't...good...but you have your own body now. And we can be together." He blinked away some of his embarrassment, burying his face against Desire's chest, cheeks bright red. "Plus we met Mink."

Desire groaned. "I still don't know how I feel about that."

Aoba pulled back with a huff.

"I don't get it. You practically shoved me towards Mink and all of a sudden you hate him? I mean, I know what he did was messed up, but…"

Desire looked away.

"When you love someone, you want what's best for them, right, even if that isn't you?"

Aoba blinked, then nodded slowly.

"And it was impossible to think for even a second that I could, y' there for you, right?"

Aoba nodded again, even slower.

Desire finally looked to Aoba with a sad little smile.

"I knew Mink would take care of you, and you really liked him. I wanted someone who would make you happy."

Aoba gaped, then closed his mouth with a hard swallow.


"But don't get me wrong—I knew he'd be a great fuck, and I wanted in on that too," Desire teased, giving Aoba's forehead a hard kiss. "But...once I got my own body, I realized I had a chance. So he became the competition. But...I don't wanna rip you away from him because, let's face it: you're already in too deep." Desire huffed out a rough laugh. "Or more like we're in too deep." He rubbed Aoba's back with a sigh. "I just want you to be happy."

Aoba looked up to Desire with a little smile, then buried his face against his chest again, nuzzling him hard, hugging him tighter.

"...There's no way they could hate you."

Desire blinked, staring down at the top of Aoba's head.


"You're sweet when you want to be. Really sweet." Aoba looked up; his next words caught in his throat, making his chest flutter and pound, his face heat up with embarrassment. "...I think I you."

Desire lost his voice.

"...Hearing you say that when you're not high on hormones…" Desire couldn't squash his smile, and immediately dove down, peppering Aoba's face with kisses, holding his head still with his hands on his cheeks. Aoba laughed and shut his eyes, enjoying every second of the attention. "I think I love you too," Desire teased, finally kissing him square on the lips. Aoba gave a light sigh, heart full to bursting.

"...This is pretty insane," he mumbled against Desire's lips between kisses. "I'm in a relationship with myself and my World History teacher…" He shook his head, barely managing to break away for a second to get a proper breath. "I deserve an award for this."

Desire kissed Aoba one more time, then pulled back and breathed: "You're happy. That's all that matters."

Aoba's smile was back.

"Geez… You really are sweet."

Desire grinned, cheeks a bit redder than usual, head flopping back against the pillow as his kiss attack finally came to an end.

"Just don't let Mink know."

Desire and Aoba showered quickly once they hopped out of bed and threw their sheets into the washer (they were a mess); in an action that only further solidified Aoba's opinion that Desire was not-so-secretly very, very sweet, he offered to wash Aoba's hair—and other areas, though Aoba somehow convinced him he could manage those places on his own.

Soon enough, they were out of the shower, dressed in warm pajamas, and headed downstairs to rummage for food.

"I'm starving," Desire groaned, towel slung over his shoulder. He peered back at Aoba as he hopped down the last two steps. "Sex takes a lot of work."

Aoba flushed and punched him on the arm as he caught up—but not hard. "You're just now realizing this?"

"It's not like I've ever done it before."

Aoba blinked.

"...It's weird hearing you say that."

Desire laughed. "I agree." He grinned, then paused once they were in the kitchen and leaned back against the counter, tugging Aoba closer by the hem of his shirt and kissing him quick and hard. "My first time was with you," he teased, nuzzling Aoba's nose.

"That's so weird," Aoba laughed, though, really, it made him happy to hear for some reason or another. "I took your virginity? That seems….backwards..."

"Technically, yeah," Desire said, pulling back and kissing Aoba again with a grin. "Funny how that worked out, huh?"

"Definitely." Aoba sighed, leaning against Desire, chin resting on his shoulder. A smile tugged at his lips and he had no hope of fighting it, not when his chest felt this warm, his body felt this light. Was this how it felt to be in love?

Aoba's mind flashed to Mink—this was awfully familiar. His cheeks warmed even worse.

"So," Aoba said, yanking his mind back to the present, face buried in Desire's neck; he smelled good, even if he didn't smell like cinnamon—more like Aoba's body wash, though it somehow seemed different on him. "We should probably cook something. It's already eight."

Desire hummed, but only hugged Aoba tighter. "Probably."

Aoba smirked. "That means letting go."

"...Five more minutes."


Desire's arms tightened.

"I won't get to be couple-y with you all weekend."

Aoba's heart dropped.

"...You're right."

"So I win?"

Aoba rolled his eyes, but hard as he tried, he couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah," he said. "You win."

 Dinner was an event in itself. Between Desire and Aoba's less-than-spectacular culinary skills and rather impressive ability to trash the kitchen in ten minutes flat, settling on microwave pizza seemed like the safest bet once all was said and done (and the kitchen was in a state of total disarray). During the four minutes it took to cook (give or take—their microwave was decrepit), Desire managed to kiss Aoba into oblivion and only pulled away once the microwave beeped and the smell of pizza wafted throughout the kitchen. Aoba couldn't put his feelings into words, intense as they were, even if he tried.

Watching Desire devour his personal pizza was a good source of entertainment, Aoba had to admit, especially when he started eyeing Aoba's leftovers once he was done. Aoba, with a laugh and a roll of his eyes, pushed his last little slice towards Desire—it was scarfed down so quickly it hardly touched Desire's plate.

Granny came home as they finished cleaning up, and wished them goodnight as she made her way to the kitchen to fix herself something to eat—it wasn't long until Desire and Aoba were pressed close together in bed, eyes shut tight, breathing even and deep.

Then came morning.

"Aoba, I should hide."

Aoba stared at Desire's reflection in the full-length, closet door mirror with a deep frown, shirt and arms raised high over his head.

"...That wouldn't work." He pulled his shirt on with a huff, then fluffed out his hair from under the collar. "You know that wouldn't work."

"It could."

Aoba rolled his eyes; they landed on Desire, knees hugged tight to his chest as he sat on the bed.

"They're not stupid, Desire."

"Maybe not Sei, but Ren isn't exactly—"


Desire looked away.

"...They're not gonna like me," he grumbled to the floor. "I know they won't."

Aoba's expression twisted and he ran his fingers through his hair, examining himself in the mirror before his eyes darted back to Desire's reflection; he looked scared. Terrified, really. Aoba sighed.

"Even if they don't like you, that's not gonna change anything. You're stuck with me, I'm stuck with you. That's just how it is."

Desire's expression lifted just a bit.

"...You mean that?" Tentatively, almost shyly, he looked up at Aoba, catching eyes with him in the mirror. Aoba smiled.


Desire cracked a smile of his own.

But that smile turned into a grimace when the doorbell rang.

"Guess they're here," Aoba muttered, checking his reflection one last time before heading to the door. With a scowl as Desire sat frozen as a statue, perched on the edge of his bed with a face so pale he looked sick, Aoba stomped over and tugged him off the bed, giving him hardly a second to gain his footing before they were headed towards the door, and then, the stairs.

"I wanna go back up, Aoba—"

Aoba glared.


Desire swallowed hard. "Aoba—"

Aoba, with a loud huff, pulled Desire close once they reached the bottom of the stairs. With a peek around the corner and a look over his shoulder, he leaned forward and kissed Desire quick, then looked him in the eye and said: "It's gonna be okay. Trust me."

Desire's face was red.


The doorbell rang again.

With the warmest smile he could manage, Aoba pulled away and turned for the door, then threw it open, smile widening even more. There stood Sei and Ren; they looked exactly the same as Aoba remembered them, minus quite a few bandages and sunken cheeks on Sei's part.


Sei stepped forward, immediately wrapping his arms around Aoba and pulling him into a tight hug, which Aoba was quick to reciprocate, chin resting on his shoulder, hands rubbing up and down his back. Ren gave a warm smile as Sei pulled away, quick to claim his own hug from Aoba as he stepped through the door.

"How have you been, Aoba?" he asked as he pulled away, eyes crinkled at the corners. "How's Granny?"

"I've been good—so has she," Aoba said, stepping inside and holding the door open for Sei and Ren, taking a deep breath as they walked farther inside.

They immediately froze.

Aoba shut his eyes for a second as he closed the door, took a deep breath, then turned to the three teenagers standing in the entryway, two with varying degrees of shock on their faces, the third with the expression of a terrified, cornered animal.

"Aoba…" Sei turned to Aoba, eyes wide. "...Who is this?"

Aoba took another deep breath, then another for good measure.

"...Desire," he finally said, not able to hold Sei's gaze a second longer as he launched into his pre-prepared explanation (or tried to, at least). "You know the voice inside my head? Uhm, this is him, but he kind of got a body, so he lives with us no—" Aoba bit his lip. That wasn't like he'd mentally practiced, not at all. Chancing a quick peek at Ren and Sei (and both looked beyond confused, startled, mostly), he spoke again, a little quieter. "...He' But...different."

He was terrible at this.

"What Aoba is trying to say, and clearly failing at—"


"—is that I'm the infamous 'other him.' Pleasure to meet you." Desire's face fell. "Or not."

Aoba glowered.

"Great introduction, Desire."

Desire smirked.

"I'm...confused." Sei blinked. "He's...He was…"

"I was trapped inside of Aoba but I found my way out." Desire crossed his arms and propped his foot up against the wall, chin tilted up. "Guess there's no getting rid of me this time, huh?"

Ren stepped forward.

"Aoba." His expression was tight, voice even tighter. "How did this happen?"

Aoba blinked fast, rubbing at his shoulder, staring at the floor. "It's really...complicated. And weird. We're not entirely sure ourselves, actually."

"Yet you've allowed him to stay?" Ren's voice rose in pitch. "After everything he's done?"

Aoba grimaced, then looked to Ren, expression dark and stormy. "He was a part of me my entire life. Did you really think I'd just kick him out?"

Ren blinked, taken aback, and stepped closer to Sei, eyes downcast. With an airy little sigh, Sei gave Ren's shoulder a quick pat.

"Aoba's right," he said. "If I had a voice inside of my head, I'd probably get attached too, no matter what they did."

Aoba swallowed down a lump, then peeked at Desire with a frown; Desire rolled his eyes and pushed off the wall, arms still crossed tight, nails digging into his own upper arm as he struggled to stay calm (or as calm as he could stay in Ren's presence).

"I already apologized," he said, teeth gritted. "It was an accident. You weren't supposed to get hurt."

Sei frowned, eyes on Desire, but his expression wasn't annoyed or skeptical or anything like Ren's.

"I know it was technically my fault, but you can't blame me for being worried about Aoba. He's my little brother." Sei's voice was quiet. "You turned him into someone he's not."

Desire whipped his head to the side. "I was bored."

Aoba glowered. "Bored? That's not a good reason to—"

"So you put Aoba and Sei's lives in danger for the sake of curing your own 'boredom?'"

Desire glared at Ren, lip turning up into a sneer. "So what if I did?"

Ren bristled and Sei held his arm, but it was then that Granny stepped into the entryway with a sigh so heavy it broke the tension like a glass thrown to the floor.

"I was going to greet you two, but…" She shook her head. "The four of you come to the kitchen," she said, voice low, expression severe. "Now."

They had no choice but to obey.

So soon they sat at the dining room table, each with varying degrees of awkward tension painted across their faces.

Sei looked worried and tense, scraping his bottom lip with his teeth over and over again as he shuffled his feet under the table and shifted in his seat; Ren looked suspicious, eyes narrow and hard and focused on Desire, arms crossed tight across his chest; Desire looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, but returned Ren's gaze wholeheartedly with a cocky little smirk and fingers drumming against the table; and Aoba looked like a cross resting somewhere between Sei and Ren, biting his own lip until it was so sore it stung.

"So…" He cleared his throat, but awkwardness still hung heavy in the air. No one spoke a word in response.

Granny, with another sigh and a slam of a basket of donuts against the table, took her own seat, then gave each boy a hard look.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, shaking her head. "You're family—act like it."

"Some of us are family," Ren said. Aoba threw him a glare.

"And here I always thought you were always the reasonable one," he bit. Ren's lips turned down.

"Told you," Desire whispered, only loud enough for Aoba to catch. Aoba's stomach churned.

"...Desire's here to stay," Aoba said; it was more for Desire than anyone else, "and I'd prefer it if you treated him like a part of the family. He is one."

Ren and Granny sighed; Sei smiled; Desire looked away.

"I'll do my best," Sei said, nudging Ren. Ren heaved another loud sigh, then slowly, tentatively, nodded his head.

"...I'll try my best as well."

Granny smiled and huffed out a short laugh.

"That's more like it," she said, gesturing to the donuts in the middle of the table. "Now, by all means, eat."

 "So he came back at the beginning of the school year?"

Aoba nodded, shifting on his bed.

"Around then," he said. "I would have told you guys, but I, uh...couldn't."

Ren's eyebrow twitched, but he remained silent other than that, and Sei nodded, expression thoughtful, voice quiet.

"I guess he didn't want to be locked away again," he said, peeking at Desire through his bangs. Desire blinked fast.

"Uh, yeah," he said. He looked at the wall. "Something like that."

"But he could have gone about it differently. He put you in danger again," Ren said, eyes narrow and on Desire's face. Desire dragged his eyes to him.

"No I didn't," he mumbled, arms crossed tight, chin raised high. "I learned my lesson the first time. Hell, I even apologized for Aoba."

"...So that was you, then?" Sei asked. "On the phone that night?"

Desire nodded; his expression was just short of a pout. Sei laughed: a sad, quiet sound.

"Well, I'm glad you did," he said. Aoba peeked at Desire; he could have sworn he saw him blush.

"It's nothing," Desire said. "Even I have a conscience, y'know. And Aoba missed you." He shrugged, causing Aoba to snort.

"Desire can actually be sweet, believe it or not," Aoba said, face heating up just a tad. "He isn't all that bad once you get to know him, honestly."

Ren sighed.

"...I'll have to take your word for it."

Desire smirked, inching closer to Aoba on the bed, making Aoba stiffen with wide eyes—but all Desire did was ruffle his hair, and Aoba let out a short laugh.

"So you guys are alright with him, then?" Aoba asked, a little smile on his face. Sei nodded without hesitation, and Ren did too, though it took him a second longer than Sei to perform the action.

"Of course," Sei said. "I'm glad he's out of your head now, though."

"Me too," Desire said. "You wouldn't believe the type of shit Aoba thinks abo—"

"Desire!" Aoba's cheeks flushed red; Desire laughed, then shoved his head forward.

"Kidding," he said, eyes narrow and twinkling. Aoba frowned, but took a good look at Desire before he opened his mouth to respond; compared to just this morning, he looked...better. Happier. Relieved.

Aoba smiled once again.

"It's weird, though," Sei muttered, tapping his forefinger against his lip. "He looks more like your twin than I do."

"It is weird," Aoba mumbled, shrugging one shoulder. "But then again, so is the voice from inside your head getting a body of their own."

Sei nodded. "True, true."

Desire slung an arm around Aoba's shoulder; Aoba yelped.

"Y'know, it's nice to finally be included," he said, and the sheer honesty in his voice made Aoba freeze up. "Really nice."

The room fell into silence.

"...Yeah," Aoba said finally, voice quiet. "It is."

Chapter Text

The day went slowly once things smoothed over.

It was just like old times, Aoba thought as they hooked up the playstation to the living room television and settled in with full stomachs and stories to share. Sei rattled on and on about all the things Aoba had missed out on during his absence, and Aoba listened with a nostalgic smile as he and Ren went head-to-head in games he hadn't played in months.

After a couple of rounds and Sei's voice had faded out, Aoba looked to Desire who sat on the couch separate from the three of them, fist jammed against his cheek, elbows on his knees, and eyes glazed-over and distant. The look on his face was so vacant it was rather scary; Aoba found himself standing and moving to the couch before he had a second to think it through.

"You okay?" Aoba asked as he plopped down, eyebrows scrunched together. Desire blinked with a little jump, eyes darting to Aoba, and gave a small nod.

"More or less," he mumbled, eyes drifting back to Sei who'd taken Aoba's place, controller in hand. Then, he sighed. "I just feel...guilty, I guess. And it's weird. I don't like it."

"It's not a fun way to feel," Aoba said, lip twitching. He reached over and patted Desire on the head; Desire scowled. "Do you want to talk to Sei?"

Desire lifted one shoulder. "I already did."

"But it wasn't for long. And things are still a little…" Aoba trailed off, staring at Ren's back. Although he was still acting civil, the air hadn't cleared completely. "I think it'd be good for the four of us to talk about everything."

Desire sighed. "...I guess."

Aoba smiled and, while Sei and Ren's backs were turned and their attention was fully taken by the game, leaned over and pecked Desire on the cheek.

"I'm proud of you," he mumbled as he pulled back, sinking into the couch. "You've grown up a lot."

"I don't know if I should say thanks or tell you to fuck off," Desire grumbled, but his smile betrayed his true thoughts, as did the pink of his cheeks. Aoba found it very hard to resist kissing him full on the lips, but he somehow he managed to, even if it almost hurt to hold back.

Smile fading fast, Aoba sighed.

"Hey, Sei, Ren—" Both boys looked up quick, blinking in unison, game put on pause. Aoba swallowed hard. "Can the four of us talk? About...everything?"

Ren looked away with a sigh; Sei nodded fast.

"Of course," he said, one hand against the ground as he wobbled to his feet. He stood on his tip-toes and peeked into the kitchen, likely searching for Granny. "Should we talk upstairs?"

Aoba shrugged—it's not like Granny didn't know the gist of everything already, but…


So the four of them headed back upstairs. Soon, all four sat on the floor—even Desire, though he'd tried his hardest to sit on the bed until Aoba tugged him down.

"Why do I have to sit next to dog-breath?" he hissed through a whisper—a loud whisper. Aoba rolled his eyes.

"Don't make me take back what I said."

Desire's mouth clamped shut.

"So," Sei said, hands clasped together, legs crossed Indian-style. "Where should we start?"

Aoba squirmed, eyebrows drawing together, wracking his mind the best he could. It seemed like another lifetime entirely, though this chapter of his life had only come to a close earlier that very year.

"...From where it all went wrong."

"Are you fuckin' serious?"

Aoba glowered at the boy in front of him, caging him in even worse, chuckling at the terrified look on his acne-spotted face. "I already told you what would happen if you and your bitchass friends didn't stop talkin' shit."

The kid shrunk back against the dirty wall until he was practically a part of it, clutching his books to his chest like they were a lifeline. Aoba grinned.

"Don't tell me you already forgot. Are you really that stupid?"

The kid shook his head fast. With a scoff and a roll of his eyes, Aoba pushed off the wall, chin held high, eyes narrow and dark, and slid his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Your brother still owes me, too. I really fuckin' hate your family." The kid straightened up, but kept his eyes on the tiled floor. Aoba scowled. "Talk. Make excuses. Do something—this is pathetic."

The kid threw a weak glare Aoba's way.

...Yeah, pathetic.

Aoba stalked forward again, stopping just short of the kid's face, invading his space. "Your brother owes me seventy fuckin' dollars for what I scored for him. Tell him I want it by tonight, or his ass is getting beat. I won't hesitate to beat yours, too, as interest." The kid trembled like a leaf.

He looks like he's gonna cry.

Aoba grinned wider as he slid away, and then, without another word, turned and headed down the dark hall, his heavy footsteps the only source of noise in the vacant school.

"He talks big but it's no fun messing with someone who's that...lame." Aoba sighed and snuggled deeper into his jacket as he stepped out the school doors, though it wasn't all that cold this early in the year; it was more from habit than anything else. "Now his brother, on the other hand…"

Desire laughed with glee. Ah, I can't wait to hear what he'll say. It's so fuckin' easy to piss him off.

Aoba gave his own laugh. "It really is."

"Hey, you."

Aoba blinked, stopping in his tracks, and threw an annoyed glare over his shoulder; he blinked when he saw who it was.

That was fast.

"You're still messing with my little brother, huh?" The boy stomped forward, trailed by the kid Aoba had just thoroughly harassed only a few minutes before. He looked a lot more confident with his older, taller brother in front of him, that was for sure.

What a bitch.

Aoba whipped around, coming to full height, glaring with his head tilted high. "Hell yeah I am. And where's my money? I'm not patient, fuckass."

The boy, teeth bared, stopped directly in front of Aoba; he was nearly a foot taller, something that only made Aoba smirk.

"You're just asking to get your ass kicked, punk."

"And you're not?"

The boy bristled.

"Listen up, 'cause I won't say it again. You and me—" He grinned, jamming his thumb at Aoba, then at himself. "We're gonna fight tonight, and you're gonna get put in your place like the bitch you are."

Aoba's heart sped and he laughed, his own face splitting into a grin, Desire cackling like mad inside his head.

"You're way too confident, but sure, why not." Aoba shifted on his feet, throwing his weight around. "Where we meeting?"

"The park. You've got one hour." The kid stepped back, cracking his knuckles. "I can't wait to stomp you into the ground."

Aoba's eyes flashed gold.

"Aoba, where were you? It's almost dark outsi—"

Aoba rolled his eyes and slammed the front door; it shook on its hinges, making Sei flinch.

"What are you, our mom?" Aoba paused. "Oh, wait...she left, didn't she?"

Sei gaped, lip beginning to tremble, and whipped his head to the side.

"...I'm just worried about you. And—and me and Ren, we found drugs in your room today, Aoba—"

"You went through my shit?" Aoba bristled, teeth bared. "What the fuck, Sei?"

Sei's expression hardened; he dragged his eyes to Aoba.

"We're worried about you."

"And lucky me, getting two moms out of it." Aoba scoffed and stomped away, Desire's voice drowning out Sei's response, and slammed and locked his door behind him when he made it to his room.

He threw his backpack against the wall and cursed as loud as he could.

They meddle too much.

"You can say that again." Aoba frowned. "They better not have thrown my shit away. I still need to sell that."

We can always get more from the not-twins. Just say you used it.

"...True." Aoba sighed. "But now I have to deal with this prick tonight."


Aoba rolled his eyes.

"Sure, whatever—we. I just wanna get paid."

Someone pounded against Aoba's door.

"Aoba, please come out. Ren and I really want to talk to y—"

"Fuck off!" Aoba glowered at the wall. "You've already said enough."

"But Aoba—"

"I said fuck off!"

Sei went silent.

When he spoke again, his words were uneven, and his voice was strained.

"...I just want my brother back."

Aoba's chest tightened.

"...I never left," he muttered as Sei stomped away. His face screwed up and he trudged across the room, ripping his sock drawer open and tearing through it. He let out a loud sigh of relief when he saw that they hadn't so much as moved his stock, then took out a little bag of white powder, shaking it with a hollow smile. "Might as well give myself a boost, right?"

Desire was silent; Aoba frowned.



Aoba rolled his eyes and stepped to his bed, flipping on the bedside lamp as he plopped down, baggy in hand. "Do you feel it when we get high?"

...I'm not sure.

Aoba snorted, grabbing a textbook and a little slip of paper off his nightstand.

"What do you mean, 'I'm not sure?' You have to know."

I guess I feel something .

Aoba frowned, pausing for a moment.

"...You seem off today. You're less talkative than usual."

I feel off.

With a snort, Aoba dumped out some of the bag's contents, then resealed the baggy and tossed it onto his bed. "And why's that?"

Who knows.

"You suck at giving straight answers," Aoba muttered, rolling the slip of paper up and leaning down. He winced as he snorted up the messy line, then tilted his head back, grimacing at the drip, the burn, and the acrid taste.


Aoba jolted, barely managing to keep from sputtering and hacking at the sudden voice outside his door. Heart pounding hard, he looked at the book in his lap, the mess of white, and cursed under his breath, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand.

The doorknob jiggled and Ren knocked on the door, but Aoba stayed stock-still.

"Why is the door locked, Aoba? Are you alright?"

Aoba shut his eyes tight.

"It's my room," he said finally with a clear of his throat, eyes slowly cracking open. His heart picked up speed fast, and he began to fidget on his bed—he needed to get out of here. "I can lock the door if I want to."

Ren was silent.

"...I'm unlocking the door."

Aoba's eyes bulged and he shoved his textbook away, hopping to his feet, grabbing the baggy, and jamming it into his pocket all in the blink of an eye. His thoughts raced and he whipped his head around as he heard Ren step away, then dove for his drawer, pulling out the rest of his stock (pills and powders included) and slipping them into his backpack fast once he reached it.

What are you doing? Desire's voice had more of an edge than usual.

"Getting the fuck out of here," Aoba said, gnawing on his lip, body shaking hard. "We could probably stay at a friend's for a couple of days. Maybe even the not-twins." He shrugged, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and making his way for the door. He opened it quickly and quietly, peeking around the corner for any sight of Sei or Ren, then sprinted towards the front door, yanking it open and slipping it closed behind him with a muted click as he stepped into the hall. Desire didn't say a word until they were out of the apartment building and halfway down the street.

It's almost time to fight that kid.

Aoba patted his pocket and pulled out his phone, frowning at the time displayed on the screen.

"Shit. It is."

So he turned on his heel and made his way towards the park.

What he didn't know, however, was that he wasn't alone.

Ren and Sei both looked queasy as Aoba's voice tapered off, as did Aoba and Desire.

"...It's been...easier to shove the guilt on Desire, but we're both to blame," Aoba muttered, looking to the wall. "I...liked the rush. I liked getting into fights and doing drugs. I felt empty most of the time and I was desperate to feel something, and if I was that bad, I can't even imagine how Desire probably felt." He reached for Desire's hand on the floor, squeezing tight once he found it. "But things are better now, and I'd like it if we could look forward from now on." He looked up. "Is that okay?"

Sei blinked for a moment, then nodded; Ren did the same with a heavy sigh.

"I thought he was the one making you that way," he muttered, looking up and locking eyes with Desire. Desire held his gaze steady, squeezing Aoba's hand tighter. "And I can see that he definitely influenced you, but…" Ren bit his lip, eyes to the ground. "I didn't know you felt like that."

Aoba waved his hand. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm better now. So is Desire." He chanced a look at Desire, noticing that, for the first time Aoba could ever remember, he looked like he was holding back what he wanted to say.

"What is it?" It wasn't Aoba who asked, but Sei instead—it seemed they were on the same wavelength. Desire took a deep breath.

"I…" He looked up, withdrawing his hand from Aoba's and scratching the back of his neck. "...I wanna talk. Is that cool?"

"Of course," Aoba and Sei said in unision. Desire cracked a smirk.

And then, he said his piece.

It was hell being trapped inside of Aoba. Living, breathing hell. Every second felt like being chained up and shoved inside of a dark, stuffy box—except you could see out of the box, you could hear what happened outside of the box, but you were still, forever, inside of the box. The box was your life, and everything that happened outside of it was what you wished for, and was so close you could almost taste it, you could hear it, but so far you couldn't feel it. Such was Desire's life.

He didn't have a name. He didn't have a purpose. He didn't even have a body of his own. The closest thing to a reason for existence he had was talking to Aoba, helping him come out of his shell (and he'd had a thick one up until Desire's voice got louder), and being a friend to him when no one else was. But it was still lonely—he was still lonely. But Aoba was too.

They wanted excitement—that's how it all began. Bad friends and a thirst for something better than what they had set it all in motion. Before they knew it, they were in too deep to find their way out alone, but neither of them minded; it gave them both the sense of purpose they so wished for.

Aoba was crushed when their parents took off without a solid explanation just a few days after he and Sei turned sixteen, leaving them to their own devices with a grandmother a phone call away. Ren was in a similar state of blossoming independence, although his freedom wasn't so much thrusted upon him but more of a conscious choice. The three did well together when they decided to shack up until Desire and Aoba got restless. And empty. And sad and lonely and depressed and desperate. Being abandoned tends to do that no matter how many times you tell yourself you're fine and everything will be better soon.

Drugs seemed logical. Careless sex seemed logical. Fighting seemed logical.

Nothing they did was 'wrong.'

But everyone else saw it; they were blinded by their emotions (or lack thereof).

They wanted to feel.

And that day was when their taped-up world finally fell apart.

"You brought friends?" Aoba took an involuntary step back, hitting the trunk of a tall tree. He wasn't expecting more than one guy when he made it to the park, maybe two, not five guys who looked to be in their twenties, maybe even older. "What—can't take me on your own?" He grinned—all false bravado, a page torn from Desire's book.

But they saw right through him.

"Drop the act, Aoba—make it easier on yourself." The group stalked closer with wide grins of varying degrees; Aoba stepped back again, around the tree, heart pounding and hands shaking from more than just the drug he'd taken—and it leapt into his throat when he saw the glint of something from the corner of his eye, something held tight by a tall man to his right that made his breath hitch and his palms grow damp.

"...A knife?" Aoba gulped. "You can't be serious." His eyes stayed locked on the metal; it caught the light of a streetlamp so perfectly it made him shiver.

"You can bet your ass I am," the leader said, grinning from ear-to-ear. "And would you look at that—your faggot brother came along, too."

Aoba's first instinct was to open his mouth wide with a jab even more hurtful than the one towards Sei—but once the words settled in, his eyes bulged and he whipped around.

Sure enough, there stood Sei a dozen or so feet behind Aoba, eyes wide and terrified, face tight and so, so scared.

"...Sei." Aoba gritted his teeth. This was bad.

"You fucked with my brother, so it's only fair I fuck with yours, right?"

This was really bad.

After tossing his backpack aside, Aoba whipped around and lunged at the leader; his 'friends' lunged towards Sei. Desire's voice was eerily quiet until he started barking orders at Aoba—orders Aoba couldn't hear through the pounding of his heart in his ears as he tried to wrestle the knife away from the tallest man stalking towards Sei (whose feet seemed nailed to the ground), only to receive a punch to the face so hard it made his world spin.

"You don't have a problem with S-Sei," Aoba choked out, wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at the man controlling it all. He swore violently when the group circled around Sei and tried his hardest to hobble to his feet, but only received a kick to the gut for his troubles.

"Like I said," the leader laughed, "you fucked with my brother, so it's only fair I fuck with yours. He's too pretty, anyway—he looks like a fuckin' girl."

Sei whimpered, eyes wide, darting towards Aoba then back to the man stalking towards him. He tried to turn and make a break for it (a little late, all things considered), but soon his arms were grabbed and forced behind his back by a man twice his size, leaving him more defenseless than he already was.




Aoba saw it all.

Sei was shaking by the time Desire stopped talking; Aoba was too. Ren and Desire exchanged a quick look, then gathered their respective brother into their arms and held him tight. Immediately, their shaking lessened.

Sei let out a heavy breath, leaning against Ren, and Aoba did the same, curling up against Desire. Desire played with his hair and grunted out a, "Sorry," but Aoba waved him off, opting instead to bury his face in Desire's chest as the images cleared.

"...It wasn't just your fault," Aoba mumbled, face squished against Desire.

"If anything, I shouldn't have followed," Sei added, voice softer than usual. "But I wanted to know where Aoba was going—I was scared for him. And I'm scared of what would have happened if I wasn't there."

"I'm sorry for being such a handful," Aoba said, turning his face towards Sei. He swallowed hard. "I'm a lot less rowdy now, I can promise you that."

Desire snorted.

"That Aoba wasn't really him," he muttered. "It was, I guess. The Aoba you see now is how he really is. He just forgot who he was for a while."

Footsteps sounded up the stairs; Granny rapped against the door.

"Dinner's ready. Come and eat before it cools off—I don't want my grandsons to starve."

Desire blinked fast, opening his mouth then closing it with a little blush.

"Grandsons…?" The expression on his face was hopeful; so hopeful, in fact, it made Aoba smile and exchange a quick look with Sei. Sei laughed, and then, with a smile of his own and a voice light and happy, said:

"Welcome to the family, Desire."

Chapter Text

Dinner was nice.

Now that the air was fully clear (or as clear as it could be at this point in time), everyone felt lighter—at least, that's how it seemed.

Sei laughed louder than Aoba had heard in years; Granny's voice was much less severe than he'd grown used to; Desire's grin was unshakeable; and even Ren seemed to be enjoying himself, his face relaxed and lips turned up into a small smile of his own. They fought over the last of each dish like the children they were, and, for the first time Aoba could truly remember, it felt like they were a real family.

But, of course, Desire couldn't behave for long.

At first, Aoba was convinced the light pressure against his thigh was nothing more than his own imagination. He continued to laugh and eat and joke along with his family, but then the pressure grew heavier, more insistent, even firmer, and he froze.

Oh, no.

He whipped his head to the left, eyes landing on Desire sitting in the seat next to him, but the look on his face was innocent and happy. Aoba blinked fast, heart picking up speed, mind racing and palms beginning to shake. Was it really just his imagination?

The pressure slid up.

At this point, Aoba began to panic—things were going so well, why did Desire have to ruin it all?—but then any and all pressure was gone and it was all Aoba could do to keep from peeking under the table to see where Desire's hand now happened to be.

Everyone stayed at the table for longer than usual once their plates were clear, chatting like the family they finally were, and Aoba had almost forgotten about Desire's stunt, whatever it was, whatever it meant.

But then, the pressure was back.

Aoba clamped his lips shut and swallowed hard, throwing a steel-hard glare right at Desire; this time, he and Desire caught eyes, but all Aoba got in return for his troubles was a quick wink and a squeeze of his thigh.

He tried his best to ward off Desire's advances with his eyes (and it was hard to do, seeing as drawing attention to them would be very, very bad, not to mention awkward), but Desire was undeterred.

And then, he squeezed Aoba's crotch.

Aoba squeaked and fell forward, eyes bulging when his face nearly slammed against his empty plate before he caught himself not a second too soon, forearms slamming against the table. Sei and Granny went entirely silent, trailing off mid-word, eyes darting to Aoba, but Aoba waved them off with a muttered, "Sorry," and straightened up quick.

But that didn't stop Desire's hand.

Aoba shuddered and chewed on his lip, wishing for all the world he was something more than a horny teenage boy—maybe then his body wouldn't react in the worst possible situation, at the worst possible time. But really, Desire was the same; if anything, he was worse.

Aoba looked at him again.

...Way worse.

"Stop it," he muttered under his breath, hand gripping Desire's wrist—but Desire only squeezed harder with a quiet little laugh, eyes on everything but Aoba.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Aoba clenched his eyes shut.

"I can't believe—" His lips clamped closed and his eyes bulged when Desire's nails scraped against his jeans, making his hips jerk up and his cock twitch and swell. Perhaps keeping his mouth closed would be for the best.

"Hey, Granny."

Granny looked their way, one eyebrow raised. Her gaze settled on Aoba for a moment before moving to Desire with no change in expression; Aoba felt so relieved it was ridiculous, what with how hot his face felt and how hard he was getting.

"Aoba has a lot of homework this weekend—" Aoba blinked fast, "—so is it okay if we're excused?"

Granny's eyes drifted back to Sei and Ren.

"That's fine," she said, clearly dismissing the topic and launching back into their previous conversation. Desire threw a grin Aoba's way, coupled with a rough knead and yet another little wink before pulling his hand back like it'd never been there at all.

"Let's go upstairs, Aoba."

Aoba couldn't breathe.

Maneuvering his way away from the table without incident was no easy feat, but once they made it upstairs Aoba was immediately dragged into the bathroom, thrown against the wall, and attacked with bruising kisses before he had a chance to so much as blink.

"Desire, we shouldn—" He was cut off by Desire's tongue worming its way into his mouth, a hand raking through his hair and tugging his head back, and another squeezing his groin so tight and rubbing him so well he couldn't think; suddenly, he forgot what he meant to say.

"We're gonna have to be fast," Desire breathed, breaking away only to attach his hot lips to Aoba's neck, making Aoba whine and pant and roll his hips against the cup of his hand. "We've got twenty, thirty minutes tops."

Aoba blinked, head lolling to the side, hands firm in Desire's hair and hips rocking up without pause.

"W-We really—" Aoba let out a quiet moan, biting his lip to try and stifle it. He was already so hard stopping sounded painful, but really, doing something like this while everyone was awake—He threw his head back against the wall, hair spilling over his shoulders and back when Desire popped the button of his pants and reached inside, grabbing his bare cock and giving it a little squeeze. He laughed—and Aoba was expecting commentary, dare he say he was bracing himself for it—when Desire suddenly sank down and yanked Aoba's pants and boxers to the floor in one go.

Aoba blinked.

And almost fell over.

"O-Oh, God—"

Desire had Aoba's cock halfway down his throat before Aoba even registered what his intention was, bright eyes mischievous and glassy and focused in on Aoba's flushed face. He winked (and Aoba moaned), then began to bob his head as he twisted it from side-to-side, nails scratching down Aoba's bare thighs, noises sloppy and wet and so, so lewd.

"Why are you s-so—" Aoba groaned, rocking his hips, eyes barely open, "sh-shameless—"

Desire popped off with a little pant, wrapping his fingers around Aoba's cock and stroking as he tongued his sack. He grinned up at Aoba and dragged his tongue flat up the underside of his shaft, then paused at the head, kissing and licking and sucking like he couldn't get enough.

"I love you," he breathed out as he panted, breath much, much too hot against the head of Aoba's cock. "Why should I hold back?"

Aoba bit his lip, fingers brushing through Desire's hair—even he couldn't tell if his intention was to pry him off or pull him closer.

"B-But—" He gulped. "M-My rule—"

Desire lifted an eyebrow, cheek against Aoba's spit-slick dick, lip curling up yet again. "You want me to stop?" He turned his face, mouthing the shaft with hot, wet lips, still smirking with a small flash of teeth. "Really?"

Aoba's head fell back against the wall.

"L-Let's at least—" He choked when Desire swallowed him down again, sucking in his cheeks so hard it almost hurt. "Turn on the—shower," Aoba squeaked, shivering from head-to-toe, tugging at Desire's hair so hard he moaned around Aoba's dick; Aoba whimpered even louder. "Th-They can't he-hear us—"

Desire slid off and got to his feet, tugging Aoba's shirt off and over his head as he stood. "Got it," he said as he tossed Aoba's shirt away, grinning like the cat that got the cream—and he probably would, he was so skilled. Aoba blinked at the sudden change in position, then whined and tugged Desire closer by hands in his hair, kissing him with lips wide open and more tongue than anything else.

"It's so easy to turn you on," Desire chuckled, flicking his tongue against his; Aoba glared, catching Desire's lip with his teeth and biting down hard.

"You make me like this," he breathed as he released it, rocking up, his own hand drifting down between them; but before he had a chance to touch himself, Desire grabbed his wrist and held on tight.

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Desire licked his swelling lip, head tilted up, eyes narrow little slits.

Aoba blinked.

"...You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am."

So hard Aoba yelped, Desire yanked him away from the wall by hips; Aoba nearly tripped as he stumbled forward, feet caught in his jeans, but soon kicked them away with eyes confused and wide.

Desire grinned.

"Get in the shower, Aoba."

Aoba froze.

Something about the look on Desire's face…

With a hard swallow and more than a little uncertainty, Aoba nodded and pulled back the curtain, then stepped into the tub, heart hammering hard, hands beginning to shake as he turned on the water and cowered in the corner, waiting for it to heat up. Soon enough, his open palms told him that it had, and he stepped underneath, tilting his head back and wetting his hair under the warm spray as he tried to regulate his breathing, palm against his chest, heart beating like a drum against it; but within seconds Desire, fully nude, slid in behind him, grabbed his hips, and pulled him a few steps back.

Aoba didn't even have a chance to blink.


He slammed his hands against the tiles to try and steady himself but it hardly helped at all, not with the feeling of Desire's tongue against his ass, sliding between his crack, tonguing his balls, pressing against his hole so hard he couldn't help but let it slip inside.

"Oh God—" Aoba knocked his forehead against the tiles with a high whine only to shudder worse when Desire pulled away, fingers slipping up and ghosting right by his ass, making Aoba ache with how badly he wanted him.

"You're so naughty," Desire laughed, dragging his tongue flat from Aoba's taint to his twitching little hole; he spread his ass wider, squeezing his cheeks and making Aoba squirm, breath hot and teasing against his wet hole. "You want me to eat you out, Aoba? You want me to make you cum?"

Aoba's face burned. "I-I—" He swallowed, wiggling his hips back. Why couldn't Desire be nice, for once? Aoba, eyes clenched shut and face burning, hunched his shoulders and whispered: "You know I do."

Desire bit his lip and then, grin wide and lustful, leaned forward and lapped at Aoba's hole again, faster than before, harder, dragging his tongue flat against it then tracing the rim with the tip, making Aoba cry out and force his hips back.

"Desire, Desire—" He bit his lip, clawing at the wall, eyes going wide as suddenly, Desire's tongue slipped inside again, stretching him open, and it was all Aoba could do to keep his legs from giving out.

Desire wiggled his tongue around inside of Aoba, forcing it as deep as he could go as he tasted him, loving the heat, the way Aoba clamped down around him before he pulled back out only to wiggle back inside again. He fucked Aoba hard with his tongue as his nails dug into his ass, leaving pretty red marks and making Aoba moan so loudly the shower barely drowned it out and he could hardly catch his breath; with his own loud moan against Aoba's hot skin, Desire shoved his face against him, lapping and licking and sucking like he was starved for Aoba and all he had to offer. Aoba couldn't think.

He was so hard, so painfully hard his cock brushed against the cold tiles as he rocked back; the contrast of hot and cold made him feel so, so dizzy, and he didn't know which direction he wanted to rock towards more, which temperature felt best against his overheated skin. Reaching back with shaky fingers, Aoba grabbed a clump of Desire's damp hair and, in an action surprising even himself as he shivered and moaned, shoved Desire's face against him harder, grinding back against him with a breathy curse and legs spread wide.

At first, Desire's eyes went huge, but then, he only laughed and pulled his tongue out slowly, giving Aoba's ass a hard smack as he bit his lip, face still buried between his cheeks, eyes so low and vision so blurry he could hardly see.

"You like that?" he rasped out, pausing to clear his throat; he squeezed Aoba's ass even harder, so hard Aoba whined.

"Y-Yes—" Oh, God, what was he saying? "Don't stop!"

With the widest smirk he'd worn so far, Desire got back to work.

He dragged his tongue flat up-and-down Aoba's crack, pausing to kiss and suck his twitching red hole every-so-often; and when he peeked up with a lusty little grin and saw how gone Aoba was he only worked harder, cramming his tongue back inside as he groaned against Aoba's ass.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God—" Aoba squirmed, bucking back, bucking forward, cock-head brushing against the wet tiles and smearing them with more than just water. He couldn't take it; it was too intense, too much, too much— "D-Desire, I'm gonna—" In desperation, his hand slid down from the wall as his forehead knocked against it, blindly grasping for his cock, but Desire caught his wrist and tugged it back before he had a chance to come even close.

"I didn't say he could touch yourself," he breathed out, panting so hard he couldn't catch his breath. "You're gonna cum just like this, Aoba."

Aoba's eyes couldn't have been any wider, his breathing couldn't have been any more strained—and when Desire got back to work, cumming couldn't have been any easier.

Without his cock being so much as stroked, Aoba came so hard his eyes bulged wide, hips rocking up only to be pulled back down, cock barely brushing against the cool tiles as he came all over them, painting them with white, moaning and whining and humping and thanking all the while.

And too soon, he came down.

He whimpered as Desire's tongue slid out slowly, his whole body over-sensitive and tingling like mad, then braced both arms against the white-splattered tiles, unwinding his fingers from Desire's hair as gently as he could as he pulled his hand away.

But it wasn't over.

"Wake up, Aoba," Desire laughed as he stood, hands dragging up the backs of Aoba's thighs, squeezing and kneading his ass. Aoba shuddered; he was sensitive. "You made such a mess, I think it's only fair you return the favor."

Aoba swallowed hard.

"What…" He took a moment to pant, turning his head to look at Desire; his face was entirely red, but his expression was still so cocky it made Aoba's hands shake. "What did you have in mind?"

Desire's eyes rolled to the ceiling and he tilted his head, seeming to think it over; and then, his eyes dragged back to Aoba, and he grinned again.

"Suck me off?"

Aoba's heart thudded.

And without a single word of protest, he turned around, pushed Desire towards the opposite wall, and sank onto his knees.

Desire bit his lip, fingers in Aoba's wet hair, rubbing his scalp so gently it was almost strange in contrast to how forceful he'd just been. Aoba peeked up, face red, heart pounding, palms shaking as he imagined how he must have looked—but really, it couldn't have been much worse than just before, and after Desire having his tongue in his ass

"Hurry up," Desire groaned, rolling his hips, grinning wider when his cock twitched and smacked against Aoba's face. "We're running out of time."

Aoba frowned. Desire was right.

So Aoba got to work.

Tentatively, he flicked his tongue against the head of Desire's cock, eyes on his face as he gauged his reaction; Desire shuddered, squinted his eyes, and rocked forward as he pulled Aoba closer, urging him to take more.

"Don't fucking tease me," he hissed, cock sliding against Aoba's cheek, smearing it with pre-cum. "Take as much as you can—fucking make me cum, Aoba."

Aoba shivered and, choking down his embarrassment, licked harder, wrapping his fingers around the shaft as he began to stroke, twisting his hand, panting against the head. He didn't exactly know what he was doing with what little experience he had, but going off of what Desire did…

After taking a deep breath to steady himself, Aoba opened his mouth wide, leaned forward, and took Desire down as far as he could go.

"Ngh—" Desire bit his lip, hips humping up, head tilted back. "That's more like it."

Aoba shivered at the praise, forcing Desire down farther, not stopping until he felt him knock against the back of his throat; he gagged, pulling up quick, but hardly a second later he was pushed back down, making his eyes go wide before he relaxed the best he could and let Desire use his mouth as he pleased.

The wet noises and little moans that slipped out made Aoba's stomach and face burn with embarrassment, but the longer it went on, Desire guiding his head down as his hips barely rolled, the more Aoba found himself enjoying it: the stretch of his lips around Desire's cock, the way his mouth pooled with saliva that slipped out his lips and made everything wetter, even the bitter taste of pre-cum as it landed on his tongue when he slid up, making him suck harder, urging Desire to spill more. He stroked what couldn't comfortably fit in his mouth with his hand and it wasn't long until he really got into it, moaning and slurping and gagging on Desire's cock as he sucked with all his might, mind blurry, eyes clenched shut, and the sound of Desire's loud moans spurring him on and making him work even harder in hopes of pleasing him.

"Fuck, Aoba," Desire breathed, lip bitten hard, both hands on Aoba's head, forcing him down over and over. "You really love sucking my cock, huh? You look so good like that."

Aoba moaned in response, the sound muffled by wet noises and the cock in his mouth—but the meaning was still just as clear. He cracked his eyes open and pulled off slowly, opening his mouth to respond properly as he panted, when—

Knock knock.

His eyes went huge and he made to scramble to his feet, but Desire pushed his face against his groin before Aoba had a chance to break away, making him gasp and cry out with how badly it startled him, cheek against Desire's hip.

"Desire, Aoba?" It was Sei's voice. "Are you both in there?"

Aoba heard his heart in his ears.

"Sure are." Desire's voice was surprisingly level, surprisingly normal. "We'll be out soon. We're just taking a shower."

Aoba blinked; he knew he must have looked ridiculous like that, completely frozen right next to Desire's cock, eyes wide and scared, hand braced against Desire's thigh.

"...Okay." Sei's uncertainty was obvious in his voice, but then his footsteps started and faded, Desire looked back to Aoba, and Aoba's work started again—though it was only thanks to Desire's insistence.

Aoba glowered up at Desire as he was tugged forward, closed lips pressing against Desire's dick, but soon the desire to pleasure him swung back in full force despite his remaining anxiety, making his eyes slip shut, his lips fall open, and his voice bubble up no matter how hard he tried to stifle it. One hand drifted up as he bobbed his head (and it hardly felt like his own doing, not at all), and lightly grasped Desire's balls, rolling, teasing, urging him towards completion faster and faster. Desire moaned out Aoba's name and Aoba peeked up only to shudder so hard it almost hurt when he saw what a mess Desire was, face entirely red, eyebrows drawn tight, mouth open wide; and the thought that it was him who made him this way caused overwhelming pride to blossom inside of Aoba, making him work even harder to push Desire over the edge.

When Desire came not even a full minute later, Aoba nearly winced at how loud he was; there was no way the shower could have fully drowned that out, no way at all. But Aoba drank it down eagerly, shivering at the realization that this was the first time he was really getting to taste him. He didn't want to spill a drop.

"I love you," Desire moaned, slumping back against the wall, cock pumping weakly. "So much." He bit his lip, eyes screwed shut, panting hard, and rubbed Aoba's scalp as he pulled off, taking a moment to catch his breath.

"Feel good?" Aoba panted, swallowing one last time; it was bitter and undeniably salty, but it wasn't exactly bad.

Desire gave a tired grin.

"Hell yeah." He tugged Aoba up by his shoulder; Aoba stumbled and fell against Desire as he stood, immediately snuggling close, and Desire's arms wrapped around him, hands rubbing his back.

"We should probably get out…" Aoba cringed at the thought of Sei, Ren, and Granny knowing what they were up to, but it was too late now. And, of course, it was Desire's fault. "You probably got us found out."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

Aoba pouted.

"Just because we're okay with it doesn't mean other people will be too," he mumbled. "It's not normal."

"Since when have we ever been normal, Aoba?" Desire kissed the side of Aoba's face; the touch of his lips was so gentle, so unexpected, Aoba's couldn't find his voice for a good few seconds.

"...Th-That's not the point," he said, pulling away and stepping towards the water. Desire, with a little laugh, crept up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face against his neck.

"You're so cute when you get all embarrassed," he muttered. "I really do love you. It's kinda crazy how much I do."

Aoba's face couldn't have been any redder.

"I…" He swallowed. "I love you too."

Desire paused.

"...You mean it?"

Aoba pouted and threw Desire a glare over his shoulder. "Of course I do, you idiot."

With a little sigh and half a laugh, Desire squeezed Aoba tighter.

"Okay," he said. "Just checking."

Within ten minutes, Desire and Aoba got out of the shower, clean and hopefully sated for the remainder of the evening. Thinking back on it, Aoba was (somehow) surprised that Desire couldn't hold off for even a day—but Desire said that it was Aoba's fault, seeing as he was "cute" and "irresistible" and "way too fuckable." Aoba wasn't convinced.

But that wasn't their biggest problem.

When they walked into Aoba's bedroom, towels draped over their shoulders and waists, Sei and Ren, sitting on the floor, only stared. Silence was a heavy veil for quite a few minutes as Desire and Aoba rummaged for clothes.

"...You two shower...together?" Ren made an awkward face as he broke the silence, his cheeks a little red; Sei played with his hair as he looked to the wall, face even redder than Ren's.

"Uhm…" Aoba gulped, and, much to his mortification, was soon pulled closer by an arm slung around his shoulder, sweatpants dangling near the side of his face. Desire grinned.

"Old habits die hard, right, Aoba?"

Ren and Sei looked straight to Desire.

And Aoba really, really wanted to hit him.

Chapter Text

Never before had Aoba experienced a silence so awkward.

Sei and Ren continued to stare at Desire before their eyes (in unison, which was rather unnerving) drifted to Aoba's face as though they'd find an explanation there. Aoba was at a loss for words.

"Uh…" He looked away. "I mean, we were the same person for nineteen years, so…" Was that really a good explanation? "W-We weren't doing anything weird."

Palm met face.

"Smooth, Aoba," Desire said, lips twitching so hard he looked like he'd break out into an even bigger grin any second. "But it's not that unusual for two guys to shower together, is it? Happens in locker rooms all the time."

"But—" Ren's mouth clamped shut; his cheeks went three shades darker. "...Is it not abnormal for two men to make noises such as—"

"Ren!" Sei looked on the verge of tears. "I-I'm sure there's another—"

"Looks like the jig is up." Desire finally unwound his arm from around Aoba's shoulders and, palms out, said: "Me and Aoba are together."


One could have heard a pin drop, the room was so still.

"...But you're…" Sei blinked quite a few times; one could almost imagine the puzzle pieces snapping together inside of his head. "...You're the same...person?"

"Buuut, there're quite a few differences. I mean, Aoba's totally lame if you don't pressure him—"


"—and even then he's all like, "It's embarrassing!," "It's wrong!—'"


"—and then you have me, and I don't give a fuck. Well, maybe to Ao—"

"Stop." Ren held a palm up, cringing quite a bit. "Please."

Desire glowered.

"Don't cut me off, fuckass."

Another stretch of silence.

"...I can definitely see the difference," Sei muttered. Desire cackled.

"As can I," Ren said through a sigh, fingers rubbing his temple. "...How long has this been going on?"

Aoba's face screwed up. "Uh...not long. Not long at all, really. It's all happened...really fast."

"Nineteen years isn't fast." Desire threw a dark look Aoba's way; Aoba rolled his eyes.

"Like I would've legitimately dated myself."

"But I'm not you."

Aoba's head was starting to hurt.

"You always used to say you were—"

"But I gave up on that a long time ago. I have my own name now, right?"

"...Well, yeah."

"That was me breaking away from you. Well…" Desire's eyes flitted to the floor. "In a way, I guess. I mean, obviously you weren't gonna accept me as 'Aoba'—" He looked up with a little smile, arm winding around Aoba's shoulder again as he tugged him close. "But so far, being Desire's gone pretty well."

Aoba's chest felt warm.

"...My head hurts," Sei muttered, cheek squished against his palm. "But if you guys are happy, I don't see why—"

"Sei." Ren whipped his head to Sei. "You can't be serious."

Sei glared at Ren; the dark look was a frightening contrast to his usual self.

"The past is the past. They're both better. Don't be a jerk, Ren."

Ren's eyes went wide.

Desire snorted. "You heard the princess—don't be a dick."

"Well said," Aoba mumbled with just a tinge of sarcasm. "...Just don't tell Granny, okay? Please."

"She…kind of already knows." Sei scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish little smile. "That's why we stayed at the dinner table for so long after you two left. I mean, she said she's...seen and heard things—"

Dread dropped like a stone in Aoba's stomach.

"—but I don't think she really cares? I mean, she didn't have any solid proof, anyway. She still doesn't."

Aoba blinked. "Isn't she home?"

"She headed out to shop for groceries while you two were...preoccupied," Ren said with a pronounced grimace. "She left almost half an hour ago. She didn't come upstairs."

"Oh." Aoba blinked again; that was a relief. "So she's just...suspicious?"

"Basically," Sei said. Then, he gave a small smile. "She says you've seemed happier lately, though." Sei's smile faltered. "But there's something I still don't understand."

Desire raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

Sei looked to Aoba.

"...She said you were dating your history teacher."

Oh, God.

"...This is...really...complicated." Aoba grimaced, eyes slipping shut. "We're kind of...all dating? I guess?" His eyes cracked open and he looked to Desire.

"I guess." Desire shrugged. "I mean, I think he's a prick."

Aoba glowered.

"But he has a few redeeming qualities. Plus, Aoba's crazy about him." Desire shrugged again. "As long as he's happy, I'm happy. And the sex is—"

"Oh my God." Aoba covered his eyes. "Desire, stop."

Desire smirked. "If it'll make you happy, baby."

Aoba groaned.

Sei and Ren looked mildly traumatized, eyes wide and faces tight. Sei was the first to shake it off with a little laugh; Ren followed suit with a heavy sigh, palm against the side of his face.

"Well," Ren said, getting to his feet, hands braced against his knees. "I'm with Sei, I suppose. As long as nobody's getting hurt and Aoba's happy, I don't see the problem, even if it is...strange." He sighed, standing up straight. "How old is your teacher? We couldn't get a straight answer out of Granny."

Aoba paled.


"He looks way older, though."


"I'm just being honest."

Aoba rolled his eyes.

Sei sighed, as did Ren.

"Well, it could be worse," Sei said. "At least Aoba's nineteen. We'll be twenty in April, anyway."

Ren nodded. "True." Ren peeked at Aoba. "By the way, we never got the full story of where Desire came from. I'm still curious."

Sei nodded as well. "Me too."

"Ah." Aoba shifted on his feet—and then, belatedly, he noticed his and Desire's mutual state of undress. He shivered. "...Can we get dressed first? It's kind of a long story and I'm getting cold."

"That's fine," Ren said. "But just...don't…" He sighed, face twisting up; Sei patted him on the shoulder.

"...We won't," Aoba said, glaring at Desire. "I have self-control, unlike someone."

Desire smirked, pulling Aoba closer until his lips were right outside his ear.

"Not for long."

"Please get dressed." Sei's face was tight; Aoba's was entirely red.

"Y-Yeah," he squeaked, pulling away from Desire who only laughed.

"Kidding," he said, throwing his sweatpants over his shoulder. "I just got a little desperate earlier. But I think I'm good." He looked at Aoba, biting his lip. "...For a while."

"Clothes." Aoba grabbed Desire's wrist and tugged him towards the bathroom, his own outfit in hand, heart beating way too hard in anticipation of Desire's next—

No, no. That wasn't right.

"...What have you done to me?" Aoba muttered as they stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them. He sighed, pulling his towel off and blushing worse when Desire didn't look away; no, he stared. Aoba rolled his eyes. "And what are you looking at?"

Desire grinned.

"What's mine."

Aoba froze.

"...How do you keep…?" He shook his head, tugging his sweatpants on, soon followed by his baggy shirt. His heart pounded so hard he could feel it. "Look, we got lucky that Sei and Ren are okay with it, but we really can't let—"

"Yeah, yeah." Desire whipped his own towel off, tossing it into the corner. Aoba's face flushed; his eyes immediately drifted...there. "But Granny's already seen enough shit to piece two and two together. She's not stupid. Even Sei and Ren said she basically knows."

"I know that." Aoba sighed, straightening up and reaching for a hairbrush. "I just...don't wanna lose you again. I'm paranoid, okay?"

Desire's eyes went wide; he looked straight at Aoba.

"Hey." He stepped closer, sweatpants hanging off his hips, and wrapped his arms around Aoba's waist from behind. "Don't worry. We're stuck together, right?"

Aoba nodded slowly.


"So you've got no reason to worry." Desire nuzzled his neck with a little smile; but it wasn't like his usual smiles, not at all. "I love you. You're mine, and I'm yours, okay?"

Aoba swallowed hard.

"...Okay." His face felt like it was on fire. Expression relaxing, he let out a short laugh, sinking back against Desire; he was always so warm. "Y'know, I never took you for the sappy type." His hands fell over Desire's on his waist, and he rubbed the back of his hands, almost surprised by how soft they were.

"I'm just full of surprises, aren't I?" Desire grinned.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Are you...decent?" It was Sei.

Aoba laughed, but he didn't budge an inch. "Yeah," he said. "We are."

The bathroom door swung open; Sei visibly relaxed at the sight of both at least partially clothed, though he flushed a good bit at the position they were in, intimate as it was.

And then, without further ado, the three of them headed downstairs.

Aoba and Desire explained what they knew to the best of their abilities—which, admittedly, wasn't much at all.

"...So he forced you to take a tonic because he was scared of losing you because Desire used to take over your body? And then...Desire was gone? For two days?" Sei tilted his head, sinking deeper into the couch. Confused couldn't begin to describe his expression.

Aoba nodded.

"Yeah. It was a tough weekend." He frowned at the memory of the tight hold of emptiness, the feeling of suffocation, the loss of Desire's company. Desire squeezed his hand.

"I remember waking up in the park—you know that one we always used to go to as kids when we visited Granny? Yeah, that one. I was covered in dirt and leaves and God knows what else when I came to and it took me a while just to realize where I was. But once I did, I made a break for it and took the way I remembered home—it's a good thing Aoba was here." Desire grinned. "He was a mess, though. He'd been sobbing his eyes out."

Aoba rolled his eyes. "Is it so hard to believe I actually missed you?"

"At the time, yeah."

Aoba frowned, scooting closer to Desire on the couch.

"Idiot," he muttered, leaning his head on his shoulder. Desire laughed and pecked the top of his head, bringing a little smile to Aoba's face. Aoba had to admit, being able to act like a couple in front of Sei and Ren was surprisingly nice.

"Well, I'm glad Desire found his way back, however he did," Sei said, smile so sincere Aoba had to return it. "Do you have any other clues about where he came from?"

Desire paused, then heaved out a sigh and gave a short nod.

"I get these...dreams sometimes. But they feel really real? It's like...I'm trapped, I guess? But it's pretty different from when I was inside Aoba's head..." He shrugged. "They're scary as shit, I can tell you that much. But I haven't had any the past couple of nights." Desire smiled and squeezed Aoba's hand again. "I have Aoba to thank for that."

Aoba blushed.

"I didn't do anything," he mumbled, barely resisting the urge to hide his face against Desire's bare shoulder.

"You're with me," he said. "That's enough."

Ren cleared his throat.

"Have you spoken to your teacher about the whole ordeal?"

Aoba nibbled his lip.

"...A bit. But he's just as clueless as we are. This has never happened before, apparently."

"...I see." Ren frowned. "...Does he have previous experience with kicking voices out of peoples' heads?"

"I asked the same thing." Desire's lip twitched. "His answers are vague as shit, honestly. He's got this whole—" Desire raised his hands, waving them above his head, "'air-of-mystery' bullshit going on." He jammed his thumb at Aoba. "Worked like a charm."

"I resent that."

Desire grinned again.

Ren sighed. "Well, I suppose he was acting in Aoba's best interests." He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say more, but then, unexpectedly, the front door creaked open and Granny stepped inside. The room fell into silence.

"There are groceries in the car," she said, glancing at the boys squished onto the couch as she stepped into the living room. Her lips twitched up. "They aren't going to unload themselves."

In unison, all four boys groaned.

As Desire and Aoba lay in bed that night (and Sei and Ren slept downstairs, much to Ren's disdain and only thanks to Sei's consideration, angel that he was), curled up close, fingers laced together, Aoba's mind sped without pause.

"...I'm still kind of in shock," Aoba whispered when his racing thoughts got to be too much, not entirely sure if Desire was awake or not; thankfully for him, Desire's eyes soon cracked open, and he tugged Aoba closer on reflex.



"We've already been through this, Aoba," Desire mumbled, face half-squished against his pillow. "It's insane, but it happened."

Aoba squeezed his hand tighter.

"I'm just...scared. What if you…" His eyebrows knitted together. "...What if you disappeared one day?"

Desire's eyes popped wide open.

"I…" His face twisted and he crashed Aoba to his chest so quickly Aoba yelped. Desire, with a hard bite of his lip, now shook so hard Aoba felt it; immediately, he regretted saying anything at all.

"Hey." Aoba leaned up and kissed him softly, lingering for just a second longer than he usually did. "It was just a stupid thought; don't worry."

Desire wasn't convinced.

"'re right. It could happen. I was already a freak of nature and then this—" He buried his face in Aoba's chest and let out a long, shaky breath. "...I wasn't supposed to exist, Aoba." His words were muffled by Aoba's shirt, but Aoba heard them as clearly as if he'd shouted.

"That's bullshit and you know it." Hearing Desire speak that way made Aoba angry—extremely angry. "By that logic, none of us are supposed to exist. We're all here by accident, anyway, just like you."

Desire's shaking lessened.


Aoba drooped forward with a sigh, any and all anger leaving him in one big wave.

"Don't be."

They didn't speak again after that—by the time Desire had more to say, Aoba had already fallen fast asleep. Desire couldn't bear the thought of waking him.

So Desire held him close, tracing patterns on his back, listening to the sound of his gentle breathing and enjoying the feeling of him pressed so close. But no matter what he did, his mind continued to repeat Aoba's words, and the later it got and the more tired he became, the louder they sounded.

What if you disappeared one day?

The thought made him nauseous.

And, by the time he fell asleep, all he did was dream.

Why is it so dark?

Why can't I see anything?

...Why can't I hear anything?



Where am I?

Aoba, where are you —can you hear me?

Aoba, I'm scared

Desire whipped around.

This place was pitch dark and eerily empty, but he didn't feel alone.

Aoba… He rubbed at his arms—or where his arms should have been. But there was nothing there, nothing he could feel; how was he so cold?

...Did he even have a body?

Pure fear causing his thoughts to race, Desire wandered around—or he thought he did. He couldn't tell. Everything was black. Everything was silent. He wasn't even sure he could hear his own thoughts; it was more like he could sense them.

It was terrifying.

It was like being locked in farthest depths of Aoba's mind all over again, numbed by the drugs he took, shoved so deep he couldn't claw his way back out. But even then, there were moments when he could still hear Aoba's voice, moments when the medication wore off just enough for him to think again—and Aoba sounded happy, he sounded better. Those were the moments Desire lived for.

Aoba was better off without him—it was the clearest thought in Desire's muddled mind, time and time again.

But Desire was selfish. Desire was childish. Desire didn't know any better.

Desire missed Aoba.


He felt something move.

Desire needed to find his way home.

Desire awoke to the sound of someone calling his name. At first, he thought it was only part of his dream, but the longer it persisted, the more lucid he became.

"...Aoba?" His throat was dry and his eyes were stuck together with sleep. Aoba went limp with relief as Desire stirred, his anxiety draining away quite fast—but not entirely.

"You seemed like you were having a nightmare," he said; his voice shook. "And you wouldn't wake up."

Desire opened his eyes just a crack.

"...I's just tired," he grumbled, throwing Aoba a sleepy smirk. "Had trouble fallin' 'sleep last night." Already, he could feel himself being tugged back down, and he pulled Aoba close, placing a sloppy kiss against his forehead as he conked back out before he had a chance to say anything else.

Aoba's stomach churned.

Ren left before Sei, Aoba, and Desire woke up. He tagged along with Granny to the hospital, and none of them questioned it; if anything, it made things less strained. Ren wasn't as quick to accept things fully as Sei was, that much was clear. Never before had Aoba felt more blessed to have him as a brother.

"Are you guys hungry?" Sei asked, rolling up the sleeves of his white hoodie as he stepped into the kitchen, Aoba and Desire in tow. He smiled at Desire who trailed in behind him—and he looked like a zombie, hardly awake as he plopped down in a dining room chair—then looked to Aoba, one eyebrow raised. Aoba shrugged.

"A bit." He looked to Desire. "...Probably."

Desire groaned.

"Food sounds great," he said, collapsing against the table with a loud sigh, head on his arms. Sei's smile widened.


And so, he got to work.

"You eat a lot, Desire," Sei said, fists against his cheeks, elbows against the dining room table. Desire grinned.

"Just making up for lost time." He threw Sei a little wink as he chowed down on scrambled eggs and toast, courtesy of Sei, making Sei's cheeks darken just a tad.

"I suppose." He smiled, eyes closed and turned up. "You deserve to eat all the food you want."

Desire paused with the corner of a piece of toast in his mouth.

And then, his cheeks heated up—but it didn't stop there. His blush spread over the bridge of his nose straight to the tips of his ears, and he looked so cute, so caught off guard, Aoba found it adorable to the point of physical pain.

"...Thanks." He took a bite, eyes drifting down to the table as he chewed, face still bright red.

Aoba couldn't stop his smile.

After breakfast, the three of them settled in the living room. Aoba sat on the couch and Desire and Sei sat on the floor nearer to the television, and soon enough they brought out the game controllers, inserted a disk into the console, and played the game Aoba and everyone else (sans Desire) were so invested in the day before.

Aoba only watched this time, content enough observing how Desire cursed and flailed and nearly threw his controller at the wall every time Sei beat him. He had to admit, it was better entertainment than the video game itself.

"Why the fuck would anyone ever do this for fun?"  he hissed after Sei beat him—again. "This sucks."

Aoba slid off the couch and plopped down next to Desire, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as a consolation prize.

"You'll get the hang of it," he said with a grin; Desire glared.

"You're enjoying this."

"A little."

Desire's lip pushed out into a pout, but Sei's laughter was enough to divert his attention from Aoba before he said anything else.

"Would you like me to show you how to play?"

Desire sighed; he looked to be battling with his pride.


So they played again.

Once Desire finally started getting the hang of things (and 'things' mostly included hand-eye coordination and how to press buttons without mashing them so hard his thumbs hurt), Aoba sat back down on the couch, reaching into his pocket and rifling for his phone now that Desire's whining and swearing had died down. As he scrolled through his contacts in hopes of easing his newfound boredom (and it was a depressingly short list) and his eyes fell onto Mink's, he gasped.

He never texted him his number.

Scowling at his own inconsideration (but a good bit had happened recently, so maybe he had an excuse), he clicked his contact and typed out a quick text.

Or, at least, he tried to.

He must have erased and rewritten the message ten times before he worked up the courage to press send—even then, he could feel his heart in his throat, and he was so nervous he could taste it.

But Mink didn't reply.

For the first twenty minutes, Aoba's anxiety was through the roof. He wondered if Mink was angry with him for not sending a message when he said he would—but Aoba soon realized that was stupid, and Mink wasn't the type to get angry over such trivial things.

For the second twenty minutes, Aoba's stomach did flips, and he began to wonder if Mink was okay—but then, he realized how ridiculous that was. It hadn't even been an hour yet, and Mink said he was busy this weekend. Aoba settled down.

But after an hour finally passed and Aoba couldn't make himself send another message, he decided to call.

Never before had he been so nervous pressing his phone up to his ear, hearing the sound of ringing as he nearly gnawed his lip off with each passing second. And when Mink finally answered just when Aoba was about to give up, Aoba's voice seemed to have been stolen straight from his throat.


Aoba blinked.

"M…" He swallowed hard, cringing at himself. "Mink."

A pause.


Aoba sank into the couch.

"Hey," he said. "I, uh—I texted you...but…" He squeezed his eyes tight. He'd definitely overreacted—but how could he not when he felt so strongly? "Sorry if I'm bothering you. I just wanted you to have my number." It wasn't a lie, not really, though he found hearing Mink's voice made his heart ache for his company.

Mink huffed against the receiver; Aoba's stomach burned.

"It's fine," he said. "I just finished up my work for the weekend, actually." Another pause. "...I was just thinking about you."

Aoba's heart picked up speed.

"R-Really?" He bit his lip, trying to fend off some of the giddiness that immediately made his body shake. "Same here. I mean, obviously, since I called you and all, you were on my mind, but—" He could only sigh at his own poor choice of words, but soon he continued, hoping to cover up his awkward stumbling. "You haven't been working too hard, right?"

Half a laugh reached Aoba's ears.

"No," he said; Aoba could imagine his warm smile. "I haven't."

"Good." Aoba smiled too. "I miss you." He bit his lip, hoping he didn't sound too sappy, too clingy, too weird, but Mink's response put him at ease.

"I miss you too." He paused. "...Are you busy tonight, by any chance?"

Aoba blinked fast, eyes immediately drifting to the two teenagers in front of him; they hadn't noticed his quiet conversation, so it seemed. They were too invested in virtually beating each other up to pay him any mind.

"...Yeah. I have family over." Aoba's heart sank, but it wasn't like Ren and Sei visited often. "B-But, I really want to see you, and maybe—maybe you could come over for dinner?"

Aoba blinked.

Where did that come from?

Mink was silent for a moment—a long, agonizing moment. But then he spoke, and Aoba's body relaxed.

"That sounds fine," he said. "What time should I come over?"

" or so?" Aoba began to fidget on the couch, that's how excited he was. He was going to see Mink—he wanted to scream just from the thought, just from the butterflies that filled his chest and stomach and threatened to flutter up his throat.

"Perfect," Mink said. "See you then."

"See you."

Aoba smiled so wide his cheeks hurt as he lowered his phone from his face, staring at Mink's contact until it flickered and faded away.

"...You're such a girl."

Aoba jolted, blinking fast, cheeks burning as he locked eyes with Desire, then Sei. Both wore looks of amusement that mirrored each other's eerily well as they stared back at Aoba, game put on pause, controllers in hand.

"Am not," Aoba said with a pout, crossing his arms as he dropped his phone onto the couch; though, in retrospect, his reaction likely didn't do much to convince Desire otherwise.

"You so are."

And as Sei laughed, hand over his mouth, Aoba threw a pillow straight at Desire's face.

Chapter Text

After a few more rounds of the game (and Desire even managed to beat Sei a couple of times, believe it or not), Desire's eyes grew too heavy to keep open for a second longer and he, after kissing Aoba quickly and groaning about how tired he was, headed upstairs to take a nap, leaving Sei and Aoba to their own devices.

They had a lot to talk about.

"...So…" Sei twiddled his thumbs as he sat on the couch, legs crossed, hands clasped together. He smiled at Aoba; Aoba did the same. "A lot's happened these past few months."

Aoba nodded. "That's for sure."

"I didn't know you were gay," Sei said; and then, his cheeks exploded with red and he held up his hands, waving them in front of his face. "I-I don't mean it in a bad way! I see no problem with it—you love who you love, and body parts don't matter—"

Aoba held up a hand and laughed.

"It's okay," he said. "I didn't know either."

He blinked a few times.

...Was he gay?

"I mean…" He let out a heavy breath. "I guess I've never really thought about my sexuality? And I've been with girls before and I didn't hate it...but I never really...loved them? I guess? And I never got all nervous like I do with Mink..." He shrugged; it's not like he really cared. "Labels are pointless, anyway. Like you said, you love who you love."

Slowly, a small, relieved smile broke across Sei's face. "Yeah," he said with a nod. "I feel like the same goes for gender, too—like, labels are pointless, and it's more complicated than just one or the other…" He nibbled on his lip. "S-Sorry if that seems, I don't know, weird—"

"Sei." Aoba's face was blank. "I'm the king of weird. You're fine."

Sei snorted behind his hand.

"I can't argue with that." He lowered his hand with a sigh, eyebrows drawn tight. He nibbled on his thumbnail, eyes darting from Aoba to the floor; he seemed like he had something he wanted to say, but the words had gotten stuck. "I've never really told anyone this before, but...since we've both been coming clean lately…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't really...feel like a boy? At least, not all the time."

Aoba blinked.

"...Oh." When Sei's face dropped Aoba leaned forward, wracking his mind for a way to make his response seem less rude. "There's nothing wrong with that!" he said—no, more like shouted. He winced, settling back against the couch with a loud sigh. "I don't care either way, Sei. You're still my brother—er, sibling, if that's what you prefer." He shrugged, smiling the best he could. "I still love you no matter what."

Sei looked like he was going to cry.

"Th-Thank you…" He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands; Aoba immediately jerked forward, wrapping Sei into a tight hug on instinct. He paused.

"...This has really been eating at you, huh?"

Sei nodded against Aoba's chest. Aoba let out a heavy sigh.

"...I love you, Sei."

"I love you too." Sei's voice was muffled and broken; Aoba played with his hair as a means to soothe him. Aoba knew what it was like to bear secrets—it was terrible. He didn't want Sei to have to carry that weight alone.

"...How long have you felt like this?" Aoba's voice was soft—he could only hope his questions didn't come off as ignorant, but he wasn't sure how else to put it. Sei sniffled.

"Since we were little kids."

Aoba frowned.

"You've been keeping it a secret for that long?"

Sei nodded against Aoba's chest.

"I-I was scared."

Aoba could understand why.

"Well, you don't have to be anymore. You're my big br—" He paused. "...Sibling. And I love you. I always will." Aoba blinked fast—he had another question. "...Do you ever...dress like a girl?"

Sei paused.

"...I've wanted to."

Aoba nibbled his lip.

"Do you have any girl clothes at home?"

Sei shook his head.

"Not really. I'm too scared to go shopping alone and you're the first person I've told." He sighed; he sounded sad, wistful, almost.

That gave Aoba an idea.

Slowly, he pulled away, biting his lip hard to keep from smiling too wide.

"So you know how Christmas is coming up, right?"

Sei lifted an eyebrow.

"I mean, it's almost November…"

Aoba grinned.

"Let me buy you something."

Sei blinked for a long moment, expression lost and confused; but when recognition flickered through his eyes, he nodded quickly, eyes welling up yet again.

"Th-That…" He sniffled, lower lip trembling as it curved into a watery smile. "That would be amazing, Aoba."

Lucky for Aoba and Sei, the nearest strip mall was a quick walk down the street. Aoba wasn't a big spender himself, and any pocket money Granny gave him (once she was convinced he could be trusted not to spend it on questionable things, of course) stayed in his pocket. There was nothing he cared to buy.

He had plenty to spend on Sei.

"Get whatever you want," he said with a pat of Sei's back. The sparkle in Sei's eyes made Aoba's own eyes crinkle as he smiled. "Is there anything you've had your eye on?"

Sei nibbled his lip, eyes scanning the vast selection of racks the store had to offer. He shifted on his feet, twirling a lock of hair between his fingers, and said: "I've always wanted to wear a dress." He looked at the floor as he spoke, cheeks dusted pink.

Aoba's lip curled up even more. "Then let's look at them."

Within twenty minutes Sei had thrown at least twenty dresses Aoba's way (he'd stopped counting somewhere along the line for his own sanity's sake) and tugged Aoba towards the dressing room in the back—they didn't get many odd looks for two boys with an armload of dresses, surprisingly enough, but then again… Aoba looked towards Sei. Aside from having a flat chest, he really could pass as a girl—a pretty one, at that.

"I won't take too long," Sei said as they reached the back of the store, frowning at the sign hung on the wall reading 'five items or less.' He looked to Aoba. "...Do you mind...holding them?"

Aoba shook his head. "I've got nowhere to go."

Sei beamed and grabbed five dresses, smiling so wide he looked positively giddy. Even if Aoba didn't completely understand it—but it didn't seem all that weird, really, not with how happy Sei obviously was—he was just glad he was able to bring a smile that large to Sei's face. And really, Sei was adorable; he always had been and probably always would be.

Not three minutes later, Sei stepped out of the dressing room, pulling at the hem of a ruffled black skirt with cheeks redder than Aoba had ever seen. Aoba gaped.

"I-Is it...bad?" Sei stared at the ground, tips of his ears glowing red.

Aoba blinked quite a few times.

"...Not at all," he said after a moment. "You look great, Sei." He honestly did.

Sei's eyes darted up.

"...Really?" A slow, shy smile broke out across his face and he curtsied, biting his lower lip to keep from giggling too loud. Aoba snorted with a wide smirk.

"I like this one." Aoba nodded, shifting on his feet—these dresses were heavy. "Try on the rest?"

Sei nodded fast, stepping back into the dressing room and pulling the door shut behind him.

Within a half an hour, Sei had narrowed his options down to five dresses, including the first one he tried on. He asked Aoba for his opinion over and over again—and Aoba didn't have any good ones, according to Sei, seeing as he liked them all—until he finally settled on two: the one with the black ruffles that nearly reached his knees, and a deep violet sundress with a tightly cinched waist.

"I probably won't be able to wear this one until it gets warmer," Sei muttered, nodding to the sundress as they checked out, hands in his hoodie pockets. "But it's too pretty to pass up."

Aoba smiled, eyes on Sei (and he looked so happy, almost ridiculously so with his red cheeks and goofy smile), then handed his money to the cashier—she smiled at them both.

Soon enough, they headed home.

"I can't thank you enough, Aoba," Sei said, a definite bounce to his step as they walked in the cold. "Are you sure you don't want me to pay you back?"

Aoba scowled, shifting the bag from one hand to the other. "It's a Christmas present, Sei. You definitely don't need to pay me back."

Sei gave a happy sigh, nestling deeper into his hoodie. "You're the best, Aoba."

Aoba smiled. "I try."

Sei's eyes narrowed as his own smile widened.

"I've really missed you," he said. "This you."

Aoba frowned—but it's not like he could blame Sei. And then, with a sigh, he smiled again.

"...I have too."

"Where the hell were you guys?"

Aoba raised an eyebrow as he and Sei stepped through the door, kicking off his shoes as Desire scowled at them from the living room.

"I left a note on the fridge." He grinned. "Don't tell me you actually managed to keep away from it for more than two hours."

Desire rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for nearly giving me a heart attack," he mumbled with a pout, pushing off the couch and trudging towards Aoba and Sei. He lifted an eyebrow, jerking his chin towards the bag in Aoba's hand. "...What's in there?"

Aoba froze.

...This could go one of two ways.

"Uhm." Aoba bit his lip hard, exchanging a quick (and mildly panicked) look with Sei. "...I bought Sei some clothes."

Desire lifted an eyebrow.

"...Can I see?"

Aoba sighed.


The bag's crinkling seemed much too loud in the silence of the living room as Aoba retrieved the dresses from within, and the look on Desire's face when he held both items up in front of him, well…



Desire looked to Sei, then back to the dresses in Aoba's hands, eyebrows arched high.

"...They're nice."

Aoba blinked.


Desire looked to Aoba, then to Sei, a slow grin breaking across his face as the wheels began to turn.

"You should try them on and lemme see how they look." He gave Sei a quick wink.

Sei's eyes went wide, and he exchanged yet another look with Aoba—but this one was less panicked and more awestruck than anything else.

"O-..." Sei nodded fast. "Okay!"

Grabbing the dresses from Aoba's hands, Sei ran upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Aoba shot Desire an incredulous look.

Desire glowered.


Aoba shook his head, eyes slipping shut.

"...That was really nice of you." His eyes cracked open. "...Thanks."

Desire raised an eyebrow.

"Did you think I'd say something mean?"

Aoba paused, then lifted one shoulder.

"...I wasn't really sure."

"I'm not a dick."

Aoba deadpanned.

"...To everyone."

With a shake of his head, Aoba snickered. "Are we the privileged ones, then?"

Desire grinned and stepped closer to Aoba, flicking him on the nose; Aoba scrunched up his face and jerked away.

"Sei's my brother too," Desire muttered, pushing some of Aoba's hair behind his ear; Aoba's cheeks involuntarily grew darker. "Whatever makes him happy is fine by me. Plus, he's fuckin' adorable. And him in a dress?" His grin widened. "You think I'd pass up the opportunity to see that?"

Aoba smirked and huffed out a laugh. "I see your point."

Desire leaned forward, brushing his nose with Aoba's as his grin dimmed into a smirk. "I wouldn't mind seeing you in a dress, either," he breathed.

Aoba's face lit up and he shoved Desire away, but Desire chuckled, leaned forward yet again, and stole another kiss.

"Is that a no?" he teased, kissing Aoba one more time for good measure. Aoba wasn't amused.

Sei cleared his throat.

As he broke away from Aoba, Desire's eyes drifted to the foot of the stairs; he gaped when his eyes fell on Sei, not unlike Aoba at the store when he first saw him.


With a grin, Desire pushed away from Aoba and turned on his heel, coming to a stop in front of Sei whose face was entirely red as he stood, feet together, in the ruffled black dress.

"Does it look okay?"

"Better than okay." Desire smiled, face unusually warm as his hands slid into his pockets. "It really suits you."

Sei beamed. "Thank you!" Aoba had never seen him look so happy, so relieved.

"Now try on the other one."

With a nod, Sei bounded back upstairs, dress bouncing as he climbed the steps. Desire sighed.

"He looks happy," he said once Sei disappeared around the corner. He peeked at Aoba. "Really happy. You trying to win brother of the year or somethin'?"

Aoba scoffed.

"After all he's done for us—after all he's put up with, this is the least I can do." He shifted on his feet, empty plastic bag in hand. "He's been carrying this secret—" Aoba nodded to the bag, "around for a while. He deserves to be happy."

Desire's face was sober as he gave a slow nod.


Sei reappeared at the top of the steps a second later and, hand gripping the rail tight, descended as fast as he could; he lightly panted as he reached the bottom, cheeks even redder than before thanks to his haste.

"Well?" He spun around, arms outstretched, skirt fanning out as he did; Desire grinned.


The front door creaked open.

Immediately, all three boys froze.

Granny and Ren stepped inside not a moment later, immersed in conversation from the looks of things; however, any and all conversation quickly died off as their eyes fell on Sei.

They didn't so much as blink.

Sei looked mortified; Desire's expression shifted from surprise to something that could only be described as defensive within the span of a second; Aoba's face was blank with shock and, soon enough, dread.

Nobody said a word.

"Uhm." It was Ren who broke the silence at long last; he blinked a few times, mouth opening and closing slowly. "You look...pretty?"

Desire almost fell over.

"I love this family, holy fuck—"

"Language!" Aoba snapped; but his face drained of both emotion and color as he looked to Granny again. They all waited with bated breath, but she only sighed.

"Ren's right—you do look very pretty." Her lip twitched.

Sei gulped, fidgeting where he stood. He looked terrified.

"I…" His eyes flickered up, then back to the ground. "Thank you?"

Granny pulled the door shut; the lock clicked as she turned it. Then, she stepped towards Sei, but he only shrunk back, crossing his arms tight over his chest as he stared at the floor. He tensed worse with every step she took.

"I'm not angry, if that's what you're afraid of." Granny frowned. "Stop looking so scared." She huffed, tugging Sei into a tight hug; his eyes went wide. "I'm your grandmother, for Christ's sake. I'll love you no matter what you wear."

Desire grinned. "You kick ass, Granny."

Granny gave her own smile as she huffed, rubbing Sei's back. Slowly, his arms came up and he hugged her back with everything he had, lower lip trembling like crazy as he buried his face in her shoulder.

"I suppose I should say thank you," Granny muttered. "But I'm just doing my job."

Sei sniffled loudly. "I love you, Granny."

"I love you too." Granny pulled away, clapping her hands on Sei's upper arms as she pulled him back, expression soft and understanding as they locked eyes. Sei sniffled again.

"Thank you f-for not being mad," he said, voice broken; his entire body trembled, but he managed a watery smile. "Thank you...a lot."

"I don't know why you're thanking me." Granny huffed, turning and heading for the living room as she dropped her hands from Sei's arms. "Now, I expect help making dinner—I have to feed a small army, after all."

Aoba gasped.

...He never asked about Mink.

"A-Ah, Granny!"

Granny paused, one eyebrow lifted as she looked to Aoba. He took a deep breath.

"I-Is it okay if Mink comes over for dinner tonight?" He cringed; how thoughtless of him to ask so late. "I mean, we won't get to see each other much this week because of midterms and every—"

"I don't mind." Granny began walking again, back to Aoba. "He can help clean up."

Aoba blinked.

"...Thank you?"

Desire patted Aoba on the shoulder.

"If I haven't said it before, and I'm pretty sure I have," he said, "let it be known that I love that woman."

Nobody could disagree.

 Although Sei was quick to try and head upstairs to change, obviously flustered by all that had happened, he soon decided against it—but only thanks to Granny.

"It's not everyday I get to see you dressed in something nicer than your usual jeans and sweatshirt," she said, lip twitching like mad. Truth be told, Aoba agreed completely. "Wear it for as long as you'd like."

So Sei did.

He paced around the kitchen, trying to help Granny in any way he could for quite some time, skirt swishing out behind him as he bounced, but she waved him off, muttering about how he'd end up dirtying himself if he got too close to the food. Soon enough, he was exiled to the living room, Desire ducking out behind him when Granny's back was turned. Aoba could only roll his eyes.

After the majority of the ingredients were diced and chopped, Granny told Aoba and Ren they could go to the living room as well and relax, though both protested, saying they wanted to do more to help; but Granny only glared in silence, and, eventually, they gave up.

Desire and Sei were playing video games as they had earlier in the day when Ren and Aoba finally joined them, and soon enough Aoba switched out with Desire who complained about sore thumbs and blurry vision. So he collapsed back on the couch, next to Ren—or, more accurately, as far away as he could get on such a small couch.

Ren scowled as Desire squished himself into the corner, obviously making every possible effort to ignore Ren's existence.

"...You dislike me that much?"


Ren sighed.

"I'm sorry for everything I've said and done to try and ostracize you, but you can't blame me for acting the way I have."

Desire side-eyed him hard.

"And you can't blame me for thinking you're a total pri—"



Aoba shook his head, eyes still on the television.

"Play nice."

"Fuck no."

So they opted to stop talking.

Until Desire noticed something odd, that is.

While he himself chose to watch the screen in the absence of conversation, seeing as he quite liked the games they brought over—they had enough violence and animated blood to keep him interested, that was for sure—Ren's eyes weren't on the game. They were on Sei. And they didn't move for so long it was unnerving. Come to think of it, he'd been looking at Sei quite a lot since he and Granny came home that evening...

Desire cocked an eyebrow.

"Something caught your interest, dog-breath?"

Ren jolted, suddenly sitting straight as a board.

"...Not particularly." His voice was hushed, eyes wide as he dragged them to Desire. He looked like he was begging for silence.

Desire snorted, eyes drifting to the television, then down to Sei's back. He lowered his voice.

"You haven't taken your eyes off Sei since…" Desire blinked. "Since you saw him in that dress." He looked to Ren again; Ren's cheeks flushed red, and Desire sighed, almost smiling. Poor guy. "...Do I wanna know?"

Ren swallowed hard, dragging his eyes to the floor.

"...Probably not."

And at that very moment, the doorbell rang.

Desire blinked, eyes darting towards the door, and Aoba was on his feet in a flash, controller tossed away, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to answer it.


He flung the door open when he reached it, panting hard; there stood Mink on the doorstep, tall, stoic, and handsome as ever. Aoba's eyes glossed over.

Mink raised an eyebrow.

"Good evening."

As his throat went dry, Aoba floundered for words. He knew he must have looked like a dying fish.


With a snort, Mink shook his head, his lips twitching up into a small smile, his eyes brimming with fondness as they landed on Aoba's face. "May I come in?"

Aoba nodded and cleared his throat, cheeks flushing as he stepped aside just enough for Mink to squeeze past; he shivered as their bodies brushed, wanting nothing more than to kiss Mink, taste and feel his lips on his, be held close…

"Hey, teach." Desire grinned from ear-to-ear, arm against the doorframe of the entryway and hand raised in a little wave; Mink's face hardened, but, Aoba had to admit upon closer inspection, the shift wasn't nearly as severe as it used to be. "Miss us?"

"One of you."

Desire rolled his eyes.

"A real sweetheart, as always."

Aoba clicked his tongue and shoved Desire farther into the house as he stepped towards him, palms flat against his chest, only to be surprised with a peck on the lips that left him sputtering and blushing even worse.

"Granny's in the kitchen!" he yelled through a whisper.

Desire grinned and cackled as Aoba shoved him harder, making him stumble back the few steps into the living room, but soon the back of his legs knocked against the couch and he fell against the armrest with a loud curse as he toppled over, his feet stuck straight in the air. He blinked, stunned, then swore again, even more violently than before.

Mink sighed, tugging Aoba close by an arm around his shoulder, lips twitching over and over at Desire's little show; but his hold wasn't as possessive as Aoba had expected. It was almost relaxed, at least compared to how it used to be in the presence of Desire.

"This is your family?" Mink asked, nodding to the room's occupants and rubbing Aoba's shoulder; Aoba nodded and sank against his side.

"Yeah. This is Ren—" Aoba nodded in Ren's direction as he stood with a little wave, Sei following suit as he smoothed down the front of his dress, "and Sei."

Mink paused.

"...I didn't know you had a sister."

Everyone froze.


Sei's eyes were wide and he looked to Desire. "Y-You said he wouldn't care—"

"He doesn't."

Aoba blinked.

...So that's why Sei hadn't changed when the doorbell rang.

"Uh." Aoba looked to Mink; Mink was staring straight at him, which made Aoba's cheeks warm worse as their eyes met without warning. "He' brother." He peeked at Sei, worried that wasn't the right term, but Sei only nodded. Aoba let out a huge breath.

"...I see."

Aoba looked to Mink again; the man's face was blank as ever.


He didn't care.

Desire sat up straight, legs still thrown over the edge of the couch, and threw a wide smile Sei's way.

"Told you." He looked to Mink with squinted eyes, smile still in place. "Redeeming quality number one—he doesn't give a damn unless you fuck with Aoba."

Mink snorted; Sei looked happy enough to die.

"I see the gang's all here," Granny said as she stepped into the living room, nodding in Mink's direction; he nodded back. "Now, if you'd all be so kind as to step into the kitchen, dinner is ready."

"Thank God," Desire groaned, propelling himself off the couch. "I'm starving."

Needless to say, nobody was surprised.

And Aoba was sure, without a doubt, that this finally felt like home.

Chapter Text

Dinner was delicious, as expected.

During dinner, everyone took to immediately questioning Mink about his job, how much he enjoyed it, why he chose to teach, how he felt about Aoba—'everyone' being Sei and Ren, soon followed by Desire whose only true intention, judging by the grin on his face, was to get under Mink's skin.

Mink remained calm.

Though his answers were vague (and Aoba expected as much), he didn't seem to mind the constant flow of questions, nor was he opposed to helping clean up once dinner was finally over.

Cleaning up went quickly with the work split between five people, and soon enough they were all left to their own devices. Aoba clung to Mink's side; Desire and Ren clung to Sei's; and Granny headed upstairs, complaining about a headache.

As they settled into the living room with three other bodies, Aoba could already see that he and Mink wouldn't have nearly the privacy he desired—and though it hadn't been long since he last saw him, it felt like ages—so soon he suggested they head out to his car so to spend some time alone. Mink agreed with a silent nod of his head.

"It's lively in there," Mink said as he shut the car door, face relaxing a good bit in the absence of everyone else. Aoba smiled.

"Yeah," he muttered. "That's my family."

Mink laughed; the sound brought instant color to Aoba's face.

"It's a nice family." He looked to Aoba, eyes crinkled at the corners. "They care about you."

Aoba blinked, then nodded fast, cheeks heating up worse and worse by the second.

"Y-Yeah," he said, smile widening even more. "They really do."

Mink reached over, across the gear shift, and laced his fingers through Aoba's on Aoba's knee; Aoba took a deep breath, squeezing his hand tight.

"I missed you," he said—he could only hope he wasn't being annoying, but it was hard to help himself when his chest felt so warm, when he felt so whole. "I missed you as well." Mink squeezed his hand back. "Have you done your homework?"

Aoba paused.

"...I...will?" He shot Mink the best smile he could; Mink huffed with a shake of his head.

"I can't be responsible for your grades suffering, though you have managed to bring them up a good bit." Mink almost sounded proud; his voice held a note Aoba had never heard before. Almost immediately, Aoba flushed redder.

"I-I've been trying," he said; no, more like squeaked. "I really want to pass this year, so I, I can—" His mouth clamped shut. What exactly did he hope to do? All he knew was that Mink was leaving to be with his daughter, and the thought of being left behind, well...

Mink seemed to read his unspoken thoughts, even if Aoba himself couldn't put them into words, and leaned over, caressing the side of his face, making Aoba's eyes flutter shut and his head loll as he basked in the warmth of Mink's gentle touch.

"I'm sure you will," Mink said. "You're intelligent. You work hard. Your grades only suffered because of...him." Mink snorted, lip twitching up. "With your mind as your own, you're much better off."

Aoba took a deep breath.

"...True," he muttered. "It's nice actually being able to focus and not having outbursts in class anymore." He cringed; those memories were painful. "And it's definitely nice not constantly thinking about having sex with you and involuntarily sucking your—"

Maybe Aoba had been spending too much time with Desire.

"Wh-What I meant is that—"

Mink cut him off with another laugh, rendering Aoba completely speechless as the sound ricocheted around the small car.

"It's fine." His hand squeezed Aoba's again. He paused, face falling, eyes drifting to the window. "...I'm sorry for what I did."

Aoba blinked.

Then launched himself forward.

"D-Don't feel bad!" he said, words coming out in a hurry, hand on Mink's chest. Mink stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. "It was Desire's fault, anyway, but he's stupid and doesn't know any better." He bit his lip, voice calming down a good bit as his shoulders relaxed. "It wasn't your fault, okay? He can be...very...convincing." That was an understatement. "Plus," he muttered, "you took care of me afterwards."

Mink snorted, hand coming up to rub Aoba's back, pulling him closer—close enough that Aoba could smell Mink's familiar, comforting, intoxicating scent. He gulped.

"I suppose so," Mink said. "But I was still too rough. I lost my temper."

Aoba shrugged one shoulder, pressed his cheek against Mink's chest, and mumbled: "I survived."

Mink only sighed with a kiss pressed to the top of Aoba's head.

Meanwhile, inside…

"So I'm gonna borrow Sei for a second," Desire said, tugging Sei off the couch by his arm, giving no mind to his or Ren's protests as he dragged him towards the stairs. Sei's skirt swished as he bounced after Desire; his eyebrows were tight, face confused.

"D-Desire, what—"

Desire pressed a finger to his own lips, grinning behind it as they quickly climbed the stairs.

"You'll see."

Sei looked entirely clueless, eyes wide and mouth gaping as Desire tugged him into the bathroom when they reached the top of the steps; but soon enough, as Desire slammed him against the wall and locked the door behind them, he looked terrified.

"Wh-What is the meaning of th—"

"Ren has the biggest boner for you."

Sei blinked.

"...Come again?"

Desire rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I know you've got this whole 'innocent' thing going on—and trust me, it's adorable—but you can't honestly tell me you didn't notice him ogling you all night."

Sei stayed silent; Desire grinned.


"He's probably not used to me dressing like th—"

"Me and Aoba weren't staring like him. Neither was Mink. Or Granny."

Sei's lips fell shut.

"...He's our cousin, Desire—"

"And Aoba and I were the same person for nineteen years, andwe look like twins." Desire's grin widened. "Which is worse?"

"...Point taken." Sei slumped against the wall, face red, crossing his arms tight across his chest. "But I still think you're reading too much into this."

"Sei." Desire's face went blank. "I'm the incarnation of desire—Aoba's, at least. I know what it looks like when you wanna bang someone so bad you can barely hold yourself back."

Sei's eyes bulged.

"Desire!" he sputtered, shoving Desire away with enough force to make him stumble back a few blessed steps. "He's my cousin!"

"Worse things have happened." Desire rolled his arm with a small wince—Sei was stronger than he looked. "And judging by your reaction…" Desire's eyes gleamed. "You've got quite the hard-on for him too."

"This conversation is over."

Someone pounded on the door.

"Desire." It was Ren; he sounded pissed. "If you're doing something perverted to Sei I swear to God I won't hesitate to—"

"My fucks are reserved for Aoba and occasionally Mink, thank you very much." Desire unlocked the door and pulled it open, grinning right in Ren's face; Ren wasn't amused. "I won't touch what's yours, don't worry."

Ren looked horrified.

"Wh-What's mine?" Ren sputtered and looked to Sei; both of their faces were completely red. "Y-You must be mistaken—"

"Nah." Desire brushed past Ren with a knowing smirk. "You're just in denial."

And then, without another word, he headed downstairs once again, hands jammed deep in his back pockets, leaving a mortified Ren and Sei in his wake.

He felt pretty accomplished.

And back in the car…


Aoba didn't know how it happened, but he wasn't complaining, not when Mink felt so warm, when his mouth felt so good, when his hands were all over his face, his neck, his chest —"I missed you," Mink breathed against his lips before attacking them again, scrambling Aoba's mind, leaving him gasping between kisses as he clawed at Mink's arms.

"M-Mink—" Another deep kiss, stealing the thoughts from his mind, the breath from his lungs, the self-control from every ounce of his body. He moaned and rocked forward, hands dragging down Mink's chest, nails curling; Mink groaned, tongue forcing its way into Aoba's mouth as Aoba let out a whine so high and girlish he would have been ashamed had he been able to think.

Aoba broke away for hardly a moment, gasping, and Mink took the opportunity to attach his lips to Aoba's neck, brushing past the fading bruises as he mouthed his skin with lips so hot they felt like fire.

"Mink!" Aoba choked, shivers wracking him to his very core. "I-I want m-more—"

Desire pounded against the car window.

Mink jolted, eyes wide as he pulled away from Aoba; but when his gaze landed on Desire, his face fell, and he only sighed.

Aoba glared at Desire over his shoulder.

"Sorry to be a cockblock," Desire said, voice muffled, with a grin that said he was anything but sorry, "but Granny wants you inside."

Aoba groaned, throwing a pleading look Mink's way.

"I miss you," he mumbled, burying his face against Mink's chest. The sound of his pounding heart was oddly comforting.

"We still have this weekend," Mink muttered, fingers combing through Aoba's tangled hair. Aoba groaned; that felt like much too long.

"Okay," Aoba mumbled.

Desire pounded against the window again.

With a long, sad groan nearing melodramatics, Aoba detached himself from Mink and pecked him quick. "Love you," he said.

His eyes bulged; his mouth fell open.

Oh, no.

Mink blinked quickly, and, after a second's pause, muttered, "Love you too," and pecked Aoba on the forehead.

Aoba couldn't wipe the stupid look off his face no matter how hard he tried.

"He said it, Desire," Aoba said, drying his hair off with a towel. "I mean, technically I said it first but it slipped out and—"

"Cute, awesome, happy for you," Desire muttered, toothbrush in his mouth; Aoba frowned and looked his way.

"What's your problem?"

Desire lifted an eyebrow, and then, with a white-smudged grin and toothbrush pointed at Aoba, said: "I said it first."

Aoba's face went blank.

"...Are you serious?"


Aoba rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, this is a really big deal, Desire."

"I get it." Desire sighed and spat into the sink, setting his toothbrush down. "I'm happy for you guys. Just don't…" He sighed, leaning down, mouthing the faucet and leaving Aoba blinking in worry.

"Don't what?"

Desire held one finger up as he swished the water in his mouth and leaned back. Once he spat it out, he grabbed a corner of the towel on Aoba's head—and Aoba glared—patted his mouth dry, and sighed.

"Don't forget about me, okay?"

Aoba frowned.

"...We're not going to," he said. "You're our boyfriend too."

Desire smirked, thin and wry.

"I guess." He tugged Aoba closer by the hem of his shirt, kissing the side of his face. "But I love you."

Aoba frowned worse.

"...I wish you two got along better," he mumbled, turning as he wrapped his arms around Desire's waist, chin resting on his shoulder. "It'd make all of this a lot easier."

"At least we didn't try to kill each other tonight, right? That's progress."

Aoba smirked. "True."

Desire paused.

"...Maybe if we fucked really hard and got out some of our frustration we'd get along bet—"

"Desire!" Aoba pulled back, cheeks flushing red.

But Desire was serious.

"...You two…" Aoba swallowed hard, reaching a hand back to scratch the side of his face. "I mean, it's only fair, but…" He sighed, eyebrows knitted tight. "This relationship is fucking weird."

"Emphasis on the 'fucking?'"

"...I'm going to hit you."

Once bedtime rolled around, Aoba found himself more tired than he'd been in quite a while. A lot had happened that day—Sei coming out, Mink coming over for dinner, them finally saying it even if it was awkward and spontaneous—and Aoba was more than ready to go to sleep.

Too bad Desire had other plans.

"Aoba, I'm horny," he said, fingers dancing across Aoba's lower stomach. Aoba's eyes popped open.

"It's ten o'clock on a school night."

"I can make you cum in ten minutes."

Aoba sighed.

"Ren and Sei are still awake," he mumbled. "I can hear the TV."

Desire mouthed the nape of Aoba's neck, breath heavy, hot, and so, so tempting. Whining under his breath, Aoba closed his eyes with a shudder, gripping the pillow under his head tight.

"D-Desire—" He bit his lip to stifle a moan as Desire slid his fingers up his stomach, flicking his nipple hard once he found it. "Ngh."

"I'm not hearing a no~"

Aoba pouted.

"You know I can't say no to you."

Desire grinned against Aoba's neck. "I know."

The sound of shifting fabric hit Aoba's ears and he shivered in anticipation, his body already growing hot and clammy from excitement alone.

"How do you wanna do it, Aoba?" Desire asked, mouth suddenly right outside Aoba's ear; Aoba almost squeaked.

"H-However you want is fine," he said, turning his warming face and burying it against his pillow, fighting off shivers. Desire clicked his tongue.

"Creative," he said, voice dry; but he pulled away, settling back on his knees and straddling Aoba's hips as he pushed Aoba onto his back. Aoba blinked up at him, biting his lip as his eyes fell onto Desire's naked chest. On instinct, his hands flew up and he dragged them all the way down, sighing with a little smile at the feeling of his skin, warm and taut and soft under his fingers.

"I'm happy," he muttered, blinking fast when he realized what he just said. His filter had abandoned him that evening, it seemed.

"Me too," Desire said, swooping down to kiss Aoba hard; Aoba felt him smile against his lips, and his heart fluttered as he laced his fingers through Desire's hair, moaning when Desire nipped at his lower lip, tugging it hard.

Suddenly, Desire's hands were under Aoba's shirt, on Aoba's chest, scratching all the way down and Aoba bucked up with a moan that was, admittedly, much, much too loud in the near-silence of the house.

"Weren't you the one who said Ren and Sei are still awake?" Desire's eyes flashed in the low light and Aoba gasped, arching towards him as his nails dug in deeper. "You wouldn't want them to hear us again, would you?"

Aoba shook his head frantically. "N-No, I do—ohh!" He threw his head back when Desire shoved his shirt up and mouthed his nipple, biting it hard enough to make Aoba let out a sob. Desire grinned up at him, eyes dark and flashing with mischief.

"You're not doing a very good job of staying quiet."

Aoba moaned through his bitten lip. This wasn't fair!

"And wh-whose fault is th-that?"

With a little chuckle Desire sank between Aoba's legs, body arching and rolling like a cat's as he settled in, eyes wide and excited.

"Mine, of course," he breathed, nuzzling the outline of Aoba's cock hidden by his boxers; Aoba choked on his words, feet slipping against the bed, eyes squeezed tight.


Desire lifted an eyebrow.

"Okay, this is a record even for you." Desire chuckled, mouthing the outline of Aoba's twitching cock—he was already half hard. "Don't tell me your little make-out session with Mink got you that excited."

Aoba stiffened.

"N…" He swallowed hard. "No."

"You're still a terrible liar." Desire rolled his eyes, easing Aoba's boxers over his hips and tossing them aside. Aoba squirmed, gripping the sheets, biting his lip as Desire's hair tickled his skin, making him hold his breath just to keep from laughing. Then, their eyes met.

Desire grinned.

"Let's see just how quiet you can be."

He kissed up the shaft of Aoba's cock, eyes still on Aoba as he twitched and whined, bucking his hips up towards Desire's face; but, much to Aoba's disappointment, Desire soon moved away, kissing and nipping at Aoba's upper thigh instead.

"Get on your hands and knees for me?"

Aoba's eyes bulged.

"...Leave it to you to think of the most embarrassing positions. Lucky me." He shook his head and sighed, but didn't resist other than that. Soon enough, he tugged his shirt off and got on his hands and knees just as Desire requested, ass raised high off the bed, back curved, face buried in a pillow. His face felt like it might melt off.

Desire let out the raunchiest sigh Aoba had ever heard, and soon enough there were two hands on his back, rubbing down the arch of his spine, and Aoba had to bite his lip to keep from whimpering.

"You have such a great body," Desire murmured, smacking Aoba's ass hard, eyes on the ripple of smooth flesh. Aoba let out a high yelp, the noise barely muffled by the pillow squished against his face; he hugged it hard, eyes cracking open as he shivered.


"You need new insults." Desire caught his tongue between his teeth as he grinned, spreading Aoba's ass wide and taking a good look at his twitching little hole as Aoba squirmed beneath him. Chuckling under his breath (Aoba was so cute), he leaned forward and tugged open the drawer of Aoba's nightstand so hard its contents rattled; soon enough, he fished out a little tube of lotion, popping the cap as he leaned back once more. Aoba could have rolled his eyes; of course Desire came prepared. Second time was the charm, it seemed.

When cold, wet fingers brushed against his hole, Aoba stiffened only to push back with a high whine, mouth opening wide against the pillow. He wetted his lips as he gasped, cheeks flushed, eyelashes fluttering, and choked out, voice trembling: "Y-You're not gonna lick me today?"

...This filter problem was getting out of hand.

Desire froze.

"...Is that an invitation?" He smacked Aoba's ass yet again, so hard it stung; Aoba jolted with a loud moan. "Didn't know you loved getting rimmed so much." Desire's grin was back. "How perverted."

Aoba shuddered. "S-Says you!"

"I've taught you well, haven't I?"


Desire nearly cackled, only to be shushed by Aoba who, in turn, ended up jamming his face against the pillow to keep from outright screaming when Desire's middle finger slid deep inside.

"O-Oh—" He rocked back, eyebrows drawn tight, a wet spot forming on the pillow from how wide his mouth was open. Desire, with a flick of his wrist, pulled his finger out all the way, leaving Aoba pouting in disappointment and shivering with lust.

But when Desire laid on his back, grabbed Aoba's hips, and settled in-between them, Aoba froze.

"What are you…?" He gulped, suddenly on edge. Desire was quiet, much, much too quiet, but the sudden drag of his tongue against his cock shut Aoba up quick. He bit his lip hard, eyes falling shut, cheeks tense and tight as his chest sank against the bed, ass rising even higher. "Desire…"

Desire licked Aoba like he was the most delicious piece of candy, like he wanted to savor every bit of him—the thought brought a smirk to Desire's face as he worked, sucking just the dripping tip into his mouth as he pulled Aoba's hips down to make his job easier (and save his neck in the process).

Aoba squirmed, eyes opening just a crack; this was so slow, so unhurried, so…


"Desire, please—"Aoba's back arched into a bow and he slapped a hand over his mouth as, without a single word of warning, Desire took him deep into his throat, forcing Aoba's hips down until his pelvis was nearly flat against Desire's face—but he didn't stop there, no, not even close, and Aoba could only half-collapse against the bed with a pathetic whimper as Desire swallowed around him, nails digging into his ass, throat vibrating as he laughed.

Pulling off with a rough gasp, Desire tongued at the head again; Aoba's thighs trembled without pause.

"What was that again, Aoba?" he chuckled, voice rough and sinfully dark; Aoba could only whine.

"Desire—" he sobbed as Desire swallowed him again. "Oh—Oh God—"

He clawed at the sheets, completely powerless as Desire took control of his hips, of his mind, tugging him down over and over again, fucking his own face with Aoba's rock-hard cock—and the noises he made as he gagged, slurping and sucking and moaning again and again made Aoba throw a hand up, grasping at the wall while the other shot between his legs to grab a clump of Desire's hair.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—" Aoba bit his lip and shoved his flushed face against the pillow, unable to keep silent, unable to do more than shake and whine when Desire's mouth and throat felt so tight, so wet, so hot, so good—and every time Desire popped off for air he laughed like he knew exactly what he'd done to Aoba, and Aoba was powerless, reduced to this mess, only able to hate the fact that the sound made him drip like a tap and moan like a whore.

Desire grinned between Aoba's legs, mouth open wide, twisting his fingers over Aoba's length as pre-cum dribbled into his mouth, onto his cheeks, making him an even bigger, wetter mess than he already was. Aoba lay gasping, twitching from time-to-time as he tried his hardest to catch his breath, hand sliding down the wall and onto the bed as he groaned. He was so gone, so zoned-out he hardly noticed slick fingers tracing the rim of his hole; he only acknowledged their presence when two slid inside and his hips were forced down again, shoving his cock back into the heat of Desire's throat. Aoba thrashed.

"Fuck!" He slapped a hand over his own mouth with a sob. He was gonna cum, he was gonna cum, he was gonna fucking cum

Desire was gone.

Aoba's eyes cracked open and his arms shook; but once he felt something hard and throbbing and wet press against his hole he only spread his legs farther, propped his ass up higher, and reached his hands back to spread himself wide just for Desire, chest pressed flat against the bed.

"I love making you like this," Desire chuckled, rubbing his slippery cock up-and-down Aoba's crack as Aoba pushed back. "Look at what a slut you're being, Aoba. Aren't you embarrassed?"

Aoba wanted to be angry, he wanted to glare, he wanted to push Desire away and call him every name he knew; but before he could so much as breathe, Desire pushed just the tip inside only to pull out and leave Aoba groaning and gasping and so, so empty.

"P-Please fuck me," Aoba begged, voice choked, barely louder than a whisper. He bucked back, spreading himself even wider, throwing a teary-eyed, pleading look over his hair-plastered shoulder. "Desire!"

"Shh." Desire's grin widened; his eyes gleamed. "You don't wanna be heard, right?" He eased inside again, even farther, shivering at how Aoba sucked him in, twitching like mad, rubbing his cock so well it made his head spin. "God, you're tight...and hot...and wet."

Aoba's head fell forward and he gasped, trying so hard to stay quiet, so, so hard—but he was going insane, he knew it, his mind was crumbling, his body was breaking, he needed Desire, he needed him, he needed him right fucking now

Desire slammed inside and Aoba
screamed, the sound only muffled by Desire shoving his head against the pillow, fingers laced tight through his hair as he held him down.

"So noisy, Aoba." Desire rocked his hips, taking a hard breath through his nose, fingers of one hand splayed against Aoba's lower back. "Does it really feel that good when I fuck you?"

Aoba nodded with a muffled moan; Desire's head tilted back as his lips curled worse.

"You're so honest when I turn you on." He smacked Aoba's ass with a loud 'thwack,' and Aoba jolted, hands dropping onto the bed. "Do you wanna be fucked?" Nod. "You wanna cum hard?" Nod nod.

Desire laughed.

"You're so cute."

So he gave Aoba exactly what he wanted.

His hips rolled and snapped as he growled; Aoba bit the pillow and screamed against it, grabbing at the sheets, clawing at the wall, bucking back, clenching tight, going insane as Desire fucked him harder than he ever thought he could take. The sounds of their fucking were so loud Aoba knew, somewhere in the back of his lust-drenched mind, if the sounds he made didn't give him away, those definitely would—but at this point he couldn't be bothered to care about anything other than the pleasure Desire gave him.

His eyes rolled back and he writhed against the bed, body rocked forward with every one of Desire's thrusts—his vision flickered out and he whimpered as the heat reached its peak and, without more warning than his hand flying back to scratch Desire's forearm so hard he peeled skin straight off, Aoba sprayed the bed, dirtying the sheets, sobbing out Desire's name against his tear and spit-soaked pillow again and again.

But Desire didn't stop.

Aoba's eyes were wide and wet as Desire fucked him through his orgasm, straight through his pleasure, making it reach heights he never knew existed as his cock gave weak pulse after weak pulse until he was drained completely. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, but then Desire's hips stilled and a weak moan of his name reached Aoba's ears, he was flooded with warmth, and both boys, worn and exhausted, collapsed against the bed in one tired heap.

Aoba couldn't keep his eyes open.

As they both panted, Desire still buried inside of Aoba, lying flat on top of him, Aoba gave the weakest, most pathetic laugh imaginable.

"...Ten minutes my ass."

Desire gave a smug grin.

"You loved it."

Aoba hummed.

"...I'm gonna kill you tomorrow," he mumbled as Desire pulled out; Aoba winced, teeth bared. He was sore. "You're so lucky I'm exhausted."

Desire plopped down next to Aoba and quickly pulled him so they were chest-to-chest, nuzzling his nose with a smile that reeked of self-satisfaction.

"You love me," he said, eyes glassy, face red. Aoba smiled back.

"Yeah," he laughed. "I do."

Chapter Text

After an extended goodbye and numerous hugs come Monday morning, Sei and Ren dropped Aoba off at school before they headed back home. Desire tagged along for the ride, of course, and once again pestered Sei and Ren about whatever 'relationship' they had as soon as Aoba was out of earshot—for the sake of their own sanity, both learned to tune him out, faces red and music turned all the way up as they pointedly avoided meeting each other's eyes. Desire knew he was onto something, even if they wouldn't admit it themselves; this only worsened his teasing.

The house seemed quieter without Sei and Ren, Aoba had to admit, but before their departure Granny demanded both come back to visit for Thanksgiving, which they were quick to agree to. Aoba was definitely looking forward to seeing them again, as was Desire, surprisingly enough.

"Y'know, I don't even mind Ren that much anymore," Desire said after greeting Aoba at the door and dragging him upstairs just to flop back on Aoba's bed. Aoba nodded, only half-listening as he sank down as well, open textbook in hand—he really needed to study for tomorrow's test. "Yeah, he's an idiot, but he's an idiot that cares about you guys so it's not like he's—" Desire frowned when Aoba mhm'd, face buried deep in his book. Desire rolled his eyes with a sigh. "...Never mind."

The following week was a blur.

Between Aoba studying the hardest he could to make up for lost time (and lucky for him, he only had one midterm a day and his first was on Tuesday), he had hardly a second to miss Mink—though he somehow ended up missing him regardless of how preoccupied he was. Being in his class everyday, so close yet so far, was the worst torture Aoba could imagine.

When Saturday finally rolled around and all of his tests were through, Aoba couldn't have been more grateful.

He woke up at the crack of dawn thanks to his excitement and checked his phone with one eye open; his heart sank when he didn't have so much as a text from Mink, but Desire cuddled up to his back, pressed a quick kiss against his nape, and, soon enough, Aoba fell back asleep.

Roughly an hour later, he awoke to the sound of his ringtone slicing through the air.

Desire groaned and flopped over to face the wall, nearly kicking Aoba off of the small bed in the process, but Aoba jolted awake and slapped his phone against his ear before his eyes were fully open.

"H-Hello?" His voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard; he blinked fast and rubbed his eyes with a limp fist to try and clear his vision, mind still foggy and body much too heavy.

"Good morning."

Aoba's face broke out into a goofy grin.

"'Morning," he mumbled, trying his hardest to stifle a yawn—he failed, of course. "...It's Saturday."

Mink huffed against the receiver.

"That is is." Aoba heard the sound of shuffling on the other end. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"It's fine." Aoba smiled wider, snuggling back against the bed—it was warm. "I was actually up earlier but I conked back out again."

Mink hummed. Aoba could clearly imagine the serene expression he probably wore; it made his heart ache. "What's the quickest you can be ready?" More shuffling. "There's a place I like that opens for breakfast soon."

Aoba's chest warmed and he bit his lip; his smile was much too wide for this early in the morning.

"I'll be ready in thirty minutes."

The restaurant wasn't fancy, that was for sure, but it held a certain homey quality that immediately put Aoba at ease. It felt like he'd stepped into another world entirely upon entering the establishment to the soft tinkling of a bell—one that seemed to be frozen in time with polite waitresses and wood-panelled walls—and the food itself was just shy of incredible. Aoba could definitely see why Mink favored this place.

As they ate, feet tapping together underneath the cozy corner booth, Aoba found himself more excited than he'd been in ages. Though Mink hadn't given him many clues as to what he had planned for the day, judging by the way he told him to dress in his follow-up text—warm and in layers and with sneakers or boots if he had them—Aoba could only imagine it involved the outdoors.

"Where are we going?" Aoba asked as he lowered his fork, poking at a fluffy, butter and syrup-smeared pancake.

"Hiking." Mink flashed a small smile over the rim of his steaming mug. "If that sounds good to you."

Aoba nodded without a second thought.

"That sounds great." He couldn't stop smiling.

By the time they finished eating, it was approaching mid-morning and warming up a good bit. The air still held a sharp chill (though the sun broke through it well enough), and Aoba found himself almost stapled to Mink's side as they left the restaurant; the man felt like a space heater.

"The mountain I have in mind is a bit of a drive," Mink said, sliding into the driver's side of the car when they reached it. Aoba sank into the passenger's side seat, rubbing at his arms as his teeth chattered together. "You can rest if you'd like."

Aoba nodded, shutting the door, and blinking at the blanket Mink pulled from the back and tossed his way. He bit his lip with a little smile, fanning it out and spreading it over himself with shaking hands; already, as he snuggled against the thick wool, he felt much warmer.

"...Thank you."

Mink gave a small smile in response, reaching for the dial on the dashboard and turning the heat all the way up as he started the car.

"Of course."

Aoba dozed off as they drove, lulled to sleep by the steady, gentle rocking of the car and the music playing softly in the background. It was soothing, somewhat rustic, and served as the perfect lullaby for Aoba's foggy mind.

When he did manage to wake up (for no longer than five minutes at a time, though he truly did try his best to stay lucid), Aoba noticed how the trees grew thicker and taller and even more colorful the farther they drove. He blinked in awe, making note of such things, but soon fell back asleep only to dream of Mink and how warm he was.

When they finally reached their destination, it was nearly two, and Mink woke Aoba with a nudge of his shoulder.

"Aoba." Aoba barely stirred. "We're here."

With a nod and a sleepy, nonsensical mumble, Aoba forced his eyes halfway open and reached for the door, blanket falling away from his arm as he did. Mink chuckled and pressed a quick kiss against Aoba's temple before pulling away—and suddenly, Aoba was much more awake.

His cheeks burst into flames and he threw the door open, nearly strangling himself with his seatbelt and the blanket as he struggled to get out only to snap back against his seat with a pitiful yelp. Mink shook his head.

"Don't hurt yourself."

Aoba blushed worse.

When they finally managed to get out of the car—and Aoba was still half-asleep, leaning against Mink for support—Mink stepped to the trunk and retrieved a large backpack. Aoba eyed it, then Mink, blinking fast as he waited for an explanation.

"I packed a lunch," Mink said as he shut the trunk and slung the knapsack over his left shoulder. "And blankets, an extra jacket, water…" He looked to Aoba, lips twitching up just a bit. "I wanted to make sure you'd be comfortable."

Aoba's eyes went wide.

"Th...Thank you." He snuggled into the collar of his fuzzy jacket and looked to the ground, smiling mouth and red cheeks hidden by the warm fabric. Mink really was thoughtful, wasn't he?

Then began their hike.

They chose an easy trail, Mink assured, but Aoba wasn't convinced; the slope was steep and rocky (though beautiful, shadowed by colorful trees), and he did a double take when he noticed the distance written on the sign posted at the entrance: five miles. He gulped.

Mink chuckled and reached for Aoba's gloved hand—Mink had packed those as well—and squeezed it tight. "We'll turn around if you get tired," he said, "but I want you to see the top."

How could Aoba say no to that?

So they hiked through the red and orange woods until the sun rose high in the sky and Aoba began to sweat despite the cold weather; by this time he shrugged off his heaviest jacket and stowed it away, leaving him in only a sweater with a thin t-shirt underneath. Mink still wore the thick jacket he came in, but even he rolled up his sleeves with eyes squinted at the foliage-obscured sky.

"It's so pretty up here," Aoba muttered as he panted, stopping for the fifth time that afternoon, stooped over with his hands braced against his knees. He threw a weak smile at Mink as Mink set the knapsack down; clearly, he was in no hurry.

"I come here whenever I can," he said.

"I can see why."

"I've wanted to take you here for a while."

Aoba's eyes widened.

"...You...have?" He closed his mouth and straightened up quick, hugging himself and rubbing his arms though he was far from cold. He dragged his gaze from the ground to Mink, jolting hard when they locked eyes. Mink smiled.

"Yes," he said. "I have. There aren't many people I want to share things with." He pushed off the tree, stepped closer to Aoba, and cupped the side of his face; his thumb brushed against Aoba's lower lip, and Aoba's eyes fluttered as his pulse jumped. "I'm so glad you like it here."

Aoba's mouth went dry.

"I…" He tried his hardest to swallow; his throat felt like sandpaper. "O-Of course! It's gorgeous, and it means something to you so there's n-no way I couldn't like it—"

Clearly, Aoba's filter was still broken.

With a pout against Mink's thumb, Aoba sighed and covered Mink's hand with his. "I..." He bit his lip. He wanted to say it again; he really, really did. "I care about you. A lot. So…" He sighed, looking to the rug of trampled red and brown leaves beneath their feet. "I want you to share more with me. If that's okay."

Mink's eyes were wide.

"...That's more than okay," he finally said; Aoba's eyes darted back to his face. "I want to share everything with you."

Aoba's heart leapt.

"...I feel the same way."

A hawk screeched in the distance; Aoba jumped two steps back and slammed against a tree, eyes huge, only to frown and cross his arms tight over his chest when Mink huffed with a hard shake of his head.

"Now that we've rested a bit," Mink said with a loud snort, picking up the knapsack and slinging it over his shoulder yet again, eyes narrow and full of nothing but warmth; Aoba watched Mink handle the huge backpack as though it weighed less than a pebble, eyes wide as saucers. "Shall we continue?"

After a short second of frequent blinking, Aoba stepped forward and grabbed Mink's gloved hand in his with a sheepish smile.


The view at the top was absolutely breathtaking.

Thin wisps of white streaked through a sky as blue as the ocean; the sun blazed bright and hot, dampening their skin even worse in the absence of tall trees to serve as shade. But as they set out a thick blanket to soften the rocky ground, settled in, and began to unpack the meal Mink brought, Aoba thought this had to be the best place in the world.

"It's beautiful," he said, blinking dumbly as he stared at the tops of yellow and orange trees below the ledge they sat on. The word seemed dull in comparison to what he meant, but Mink nodded nevertheless.

"It is." He eyed Aoba in a way Aoba couldn't quite take, a way that made his stomach flutter and his hands shake. "I'm glad I get to share this with you."

Aoba screwed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hands; Mink chuckled and, soon, the rustling of fabric hit Aoba's ears.

"Is something the matter?"

"I'm too happy."

Mink raised an eyebrow; Aoba saw as much through the cracks in his fingers. He pushed his lower lip out with a sigh.

"G-Getting to share this with you, getting to be alone with you, it's—" Aoba took a deep breath. "It's nice. Really, really nice." He screwed his eyes shut, head drooping forward, and muttered: "I missed you a lot."

"I missed you too." Warm fingers brushed against Aoba's thigh; Aoba gulped. "I didn't realize what a large part of my life you've become until you were gone." Aoba chanced a peek up; Mink's eyes looked hazy, like he didn't quite see whatever distant object his gaze settled on. Aoba, not liking that expression one bit, reached forward and cupped Mink's cheek, tilting his head down. Almost immediately, the film cleared.

"The same goes for me," he said, voice quiet. He bit his lip, took a steadying breath. "...I love you."

He whipped his hand back and jerked his head away.

"I-I'm sorry if that sounds weird o-or clingy and if it's too soo—"

"I love you too."

Aoba gaped.

Mink, with the smallest of smiles, shifted closer on the blanket, so close his and Aoba's knees touched.

"I've thought about it a lot this past week, since we were in my car," he said, elbow against his thigh, chin against his fist. He looked straight at Aoba, eyes so stunningly bright in the sun Aoba could hardly believe they were real. "I believe I've fallen for you."

Aoba covered his face again with a squeak so high it was nearly inhuman.

"...This is so embarrassing," he mumbled against his hands as he shook his head, heart going absolutely crazy in his chest; Mink let out a soft laugh.

"It is for me as well."

Aoba peeked through the cracks in his fingers.

"You can get embarrassed?"

"I am human."


Mink raised an eyebrow, but Aoba shook his head with red cheeks and a wide smile as his hands dropped into his lap.

"Never mind." He jerked his chin towards the open lunchbox laying next to them on the blanket; then, his gaze drifted back to Mink, and he bit his lip, shifting where he sat. "...I'm kinda hungry." As if on cue, his stomach rumbled and he clutched at it as his cheeks flushed two shades darker.

With a snort, Mink reached for the lunchbox and tugged it closer to Aoba and himself, retrieving two metal thermos' from inside and holding one out for Aoba to take.

"Let's eat."

The meal Mink made was quite possibly the best Aoba had ever tasted (but Granny's cooking still rated higher, of course). It even beat the breakfast they had that morning, and that, in Aoba's mind, was quite the feat—but the warm beef stew Mink packed for them was absolutely perfect on a day as chilly as this.

"This is delicious," Aoba said, spoon in his mouth, open thermos in hand, wide eyes on Mink's face. Mink snorted and brought a spoon to his own lips.

"It's a simple meal."

"But it's good."

Mink shrugged one shoulder; Aoba rolled his eyes.

"You're too modest." He nudged Mink's leg with his foot. "It's okay to admit your cooking tastes awesome."

Mink lifted an eyebrow.

"...I suppose I should say thank you," he finally said, eyes slipping shut as he huffed. "But I haven't been on the receiving end of a compliment for quite a while. You'll have to forgive me for finding it hard to accept."

Aoba frowned.

"You deserve compliments," he muttered, eyebrows knitted tight. "A lot of them. You're so amazing it's almost scary."

Mink's eyes went wide, spoon pausing halfway to his lips.

He blinked; so did Aoba.

And then, as Mink brought the spoon to his lips at long last, Aoba could have sworn he saw the faintest blush.

After they finished their meal and stowed the utensils away, Aoba crawled closer to Mink, unable to take any form of separation as, quite suddenly, a mood so loving and affectionate he couldn't ignore it overtook him to the point where distance felt like pain. He settled himself against Mink's side, arms firmly wrapped around his waist, and gave a happy, relieved sigh at the scent he immediately smelled.

"You smell so good," he muttered, burying his face in Mink's chest; Mink ran his fingers through Aoba's wind-swept hair.

"I don't notice myself smelling any particular way."

Aoba peeked up at him with a dead expression.


Mink blinked.


"...But you smell like…" Aoba's lip twitched; he could only imagine Desire's commentary. "You smell like cinnamon. We've been through this before."

Mink paused.

"...I suppose." Once again, his eyes hazed over; but this time, he shook it off himself with a squeeze of Aoba's shoulder. "Would you like to rest for a bit longer before heading back?"

Aoba nodded without a second thought. "Yeah," he said, yawning wide—that hike was tough. "I'm so tired I could fall asleep again," he mumbled, squishing his face against Mink's hard chest once more. He wished they were wearing less clothes; Mink's jacket was much too thick.

Aoba's cheeks flushed red when he noticed the direction of his thoughts.

"You can nap if you'd like to." Mink pulled away from Aoba, leaving Aoba blinking with a pout so deep he could feel it. "I brought another blanket; I figured we could rest for a while."

As promised, Mink soon fished another blanket out of his backpack of wonders.

"...How much stuff can you fit in there?" Aoba raised an eyebrow, lying back and leaning on his elbows as Mink unfolded the blanket and fanned it out over both of them.

"A lot."

Aoba snorted.

Soon, Mink settled back down—but not before shrugging off his jacket and laying it near their heads for use as a pillow. Aoba smiled and pulled the blanket up over them, heart fluttering as they snuggled close, arms wrapped tight around each other's waists as they laid on their sides.

"This is so nice," he muttered, running his fingers down Mink's chest; he could feel every contour of his hard, toned stomach, and bit his lip to fend off a shiver as he met Mink's warm, honey-gold eyes.

"It is." Mink's lip twitched and he pulled Aoba closer, fingers splayed out on his lower back, until their bodies lay flush together, legs wound tight, and Aoba had to stifle an embarrassing noise.

"Y-Yeah." Aoba blinked fast, cheeks flushing redder and redder by the second—but Mink was warm and it was cold outside this thick blanket; he wanted to be close, even closer, so close there wasn't a single thing between them and their skin.

Without thinking, Aoba's face drifted closer.

"Your eyes are so pretty," he mumbled, his gaze drifting from them to Mink's lips as Aoba licked his own. He took a deep breath, eyebrows drawing tightly when Mink's hand on his back slowly drifted down.

"As are yours," he said, breath hot against Aoba's lips; it sent tingles down his spine, forced a whimper past his lips, and, soon enough, Aoba brushed his lips against Mink's, heart pounding so hard he felt it in his throat.

"I-I wanna be closer," he said, voice catching as Mink's hand ran over his ass, giving it the quickest squeeze and teasing him just enough to make him shake.

"We are close." Mink's lip twitched; Aoba shook his head

"You know what I mean," he mumbled with a dark pout, kissing Mink again, harder this time. "It's been t-too long." He tugged at Mink's shirt, eyes wide and pleading, face drawn into a look nearing desperation—but he couldn't get the words out no matter how hard he tried.

Mink took a deep breath, squeezing Aoba's ass again, making Aoba buck forward with a soft, strained moan. And then, Mink kissed him; but it wasn't like Aoba's kisses—soft and tentative and barely there—it was hard, and firm, but still gentle enough that Aoba craved much, much more.

"M-Mink—" Mink kissed him deep, so deeply Aoba could hardly breathe; and every time he managed to, all he could smell was cinnamon. "M—" He moaned, words swallowed by Mink as he was kissed and pulled forward and couldn't do more than wedge his hands between them to fruitlessly claw at Mink's chest.

Mink growled against his lips; the sound made Aoba jolt, it was so unrestrained, so unlike Mink's usual self, and Aoba found he wanted to hear every sound the man could make.

The nearby rustling of leaves startled Aoba, making him jolt hard and try his hardest to put some distance between Mink and himself; but before he had a chance to get far at all Mink tugged him back, shirt bunched in his hand, and kissed him again, tongue tracing his lips, wiggling inside, filling Aoba's mouth with a taste so sweet it was nearly saccharine.

"W-We're outside," Aoba gasped as he jerked his head away for barely a second; Mink kissed from his jaw down to his neck.

"No one is here," he breathed between kisses. His hand slipped under Aoba's shirt and dragged up his chest, palm flat and warmer than even the blanket. "We're alone."

Aoba's heart thudded.

"Mink—" He practically threw himself at Mink, tossing his leg over his waist so he straddled him, lips close to touching but not quite once he settled himself in. The blanket slid off of Aoba's shoulders as he moved but he paid this no mind, too distracted, too captivated by the striking gold of Mink's eyes to care about the cold air against his neck.

Slowly, Mink's hands slid down Aoba's back, slipping under his sweater until they pressed skin-to-skin; Aoba whimpered at the warmth of Mink's calloused hands, at the way goosebumps sprouted under his touch though his touch was the warmest thing Aoba could imagine. His own fingers, trembling hard, raked through Mink's hair, pushing it out of his face as Aoba brushed his lips against his cheek, down to his lips, eyelashes fluttering and body shivering when Mink's hands slid beneath the hem of his pants and gave his ass a firm squeeze.

"H-How—" Aoba swallowed hard, stomach burning. "How are we going to do this?"

Mink huffed, then kissed Aoba again, light and quick. "Look in the backpack."

One eyebrow raised, Aoba leaned over only to pause with an open palm hovering right above the backpack beside them. He blinked, eyes scanning the exterior and its numerous zippered pockets.


"Largest outer pocket."

Aoba nodded, then unzipped the pocket and reached inside; the last thing he expected to feel was a wooden tub not unlike the one Mink had at home resting at the bottom. The only difference, he noted as he pulled it out and eyed it hard, was that it was small enough to nestle snugly in Aoba's palm.

He blinked.

"You brought...this?"

Mink's eyes darted away.

"...I was hopeful."

Aoba couldn't hold in his laughter no matter how hard he tried; Mink laughed as well, though his was closer to an embarrassed huff than the rowdiness of Aoba's cackles. Once he recovered enough to catch his breath, Aoba looked to Mink as the sun shone down on the both of them and a light breeze tousled their hair. Aoba could hardly believe just how happy he was, heart swelling, lips curling.

He really, really loved him.

Clearing his throat, Aoba settled back in again, kissing Mink quickly as he slid the tub into his hand.

"Should I…" Aoba flushed darker. "Should I take off my clothes?"

Mink took a sharp breath, hand beginning to move up Aoba's back once again.

"Your pants should be enough."

Frowning just a bit, Aoba nodded; he prefered less clothes when it came to this (the feeling of his lovers' skin against his was indescribable), but he guessed this wasn't the best scenario for full nudity—it was still cold, after all.

Shivering, Aoba flopped down on the blanket next to Mink with a little 'oof' and got to work on his pants, unfastening them and slipping both his pants and boxers over his hips quickly, blushing when he saw just how worked up he'd already become—but his embarrassment was soon wiped from his mind when a freezing gust of wind blew against him, making his legs draw up and his teeth chatter.

"Get under the blanket," Mink said, expression tight with concern; Aoba happily obliged, but this time, Mink rolled on top of him, knees hugging Aoba's naked hips, hair tickling his reddened cheeks. As he tugged the blanket up and around them Mink smiled at Aoba, then unscrewed the top of the little container, dipped his fingers into the pink cream, and leaned back just enough to slip his arm between their bodies.

Aoba bit his lip and arched his back as Mink's fingers slid between his crack, pressing against his twitching hole, and let out a high little whine when they rubbed hard and slow, tracing the rim, making his body relax and practically suck them inside.

"M-Mink…" His eyebrows drew tight and he combed his fingers through Mink's hair, pulling his face closer. "Please…"

Slowly, a thick finger pushed its way inside; Aoba gritted his teeth, head falling back, legs spreading wider and wrapping around Mink's waist. It already felt so good…

Mink's finger slid in deeper until it was as far as it could reach—he curled it then, making Aoba buck his hips with wide eyes, and when it slipped back out, managing to brush past Aoba's prostate, Aoba moaned, loud and long.

"Ngh—" He bit his lip, eyelashes fluttering as he rocked back. "A-Another?"

With a heavy grunt, Mink obliged.

With the addition of a second finger, Aoba's mind fogged over so badly he hardly remembered where they were—all he registered was the feeling of Mink, the smell of Mink, and all he wanted was to feel their bare skin pressed close, feel the heat Mink always carried. But, of course, Mink took things slowly, stretching Aoba carefully, scissoring his fingers, spreading them wide, twisting them, curling them until Aoba's breath was broken and he couldn't take another moment of this sweet torture.

"Please!" He tugged Mink's hair; Mink grunted. "J-Just—" Aoba bit his lip at an especially rough twist of Mink's wrist and wiggled his hips, skin slick with sweat, sliding against the blanket in time with Mink's hand. "I'm ready!"

"Are you sure?"

Aoba's eyes went wide. That tone, Mink's smile, that glint in his eyes…

"P…" Aoba whimpered, head thrown back. "Please don't tease me!"

Mink withdrew his fingers.

Aoba shivered in excitement, arms falling back against the blanket; he clawed at it as he watched Mink unbuckle his pants, eyeing the bulge hidden beneath his jeans with a lick of his lips. His cock throbbed.

...When had he gotten so lewd?

The thought was short-lived and he spread his legs wider as Mink settled between them, swollen cock in hand, and looped an arm around Mink's neck as they locked eyes, honey against hazel. Mink wasted no time in pressing his hot cock between Aoba's cheeks, spreading him open with one hand as he rubbed up and down, everything made slicker from the cream and Mink's slick arousal.

Aoba twisted on the blanket, clawing at it with one hand as he whimpered and groaned—Mink was big, huge, really, and it took him a good moment just to catch his breath as Mink began to push in though he was anything but rough.

Aoba wanted it so badly he soon rocked his hips back, forcing Mink deeper, clenching down hard as Mink eased himself inside. He panted, mouth wide open, whispered pleas slipping out without pause as he was filled to the brim, stuffed so full his chest heaved and his vision flickered.

"Ah—!" His back arched away from the blanket as Mink swiveled his hips, grinding against Aoba's ass with a squelch so loud and wet it made Aoba shiver. Burgundy-tinted hair fell over them, tickling Aoba's cheek as Mink leaned down, and soon Mink's hot lips were on Aoba's, distracting him from the dull burn that slowly began to fade out only for pleasure to take its place.

Mink pulled out slowly but Aoba shook his head, groaning for him to move faster as he bucked back; Mink, with a huff, did as was asked, kissing Aoba harder as his hips began to snap.

"M-Mink—" Aoba gasped, hands once again raking through Mink's hair, holding his mouth firmly against his own as he rocked his hips back; Mink stretched him so wonderfully, filled him so well he never wanted it to end. "Feels so g-good."

With a grunt, Mink gave an especially rough thrust of his hips, lip curling against Aoba's when he whimpered as his body jolted back.

"You've missed this." It wasn't a question—it was a statement, one Aoba couldn't deny no matter how hard he tried.

"So much!" Aoba shuddered when Mink's hips picked up even more speed; and then, out of the blue, Mink grabbed Aoba's ass, pulling it off the blanket, and yanked him back as his hips snapped forward.

Aoba screamed.

"A-Ah! Oh, God—" Mink pounded into Aoba and Aoba's hands flew up, clawing at the blanket, arms stretched above his head. "Mink, Mink, Mink—"

Every one of Mink's grunts were like music to Aoba's ears, proving how good he too felt when they connected this way; Aoba's chest warmed and his mouth fell open, head tipping back as sweat trickled down his brow.

"Don't stop!" His eyes were barely open as Mink pounded into him, and he felt his stomach burn in a way that was all too familiar—but as though Mink sensed Aoba's impending release —and perhaps he could from the sound of Aoba's keening voice, the feeling of his burning body—his hips slowed, rocking so deeply Aoba's voice was lost.

Aoba gasped with a heaving chest, blurry, squinted eyes staring straight at the sky. The cold air blowing against the both of them made him shiver, but compared to the heat Mink gave him, it was nothing he couldn't handle.

"How does it feel?" Mink's rugged voice made Aoba blink, the film clearing for hardly a second before Mink's cock brushed against something wonderful inside of Aoba and his entire body jerked.

"H-Haah—" He swallowed hard, hands gripping and un-gripping the blanket over and over again. "So good." He bit his lip, hands coming up to wrap around Mink, pulling him closer. "I-I l-love you—" He rocked his hips back, eyes slipping shut; this rhythm was so slow, so deep, so nice.

"Aoba." Minks lips brushed against Aoba's flushed cheek, hips rocking just a bit faster but still slow enough to prod the fire and keep it burning strong and steady; clearly, he didn't want this to end, and Aoba wasn't about to complain.

So they stayed like that, Mink and Aoba rocking together, Aoba gasping for breath as Mink's lips brushed against his neck, mouthing his sweat-slick skin as his body shook; and when he felt himself nearing his peak once again as Mink's hands slid beneath his shirt, caressing his overheated skin, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold on, not with a build-up such as this.

He slipped his own hands underneath Mink's shirt, scratching at his back as his eyes clenched shut, teeth gritted tight. "I-I'm gonna—" He bit his lip hard, hips rocking faster in response to Mink's increasingly hard thrusts. Mink didn't stop.

Mink's breathing grew more ragged and his teeth brushed against Aoba's pulse, making Aoba whimper beneath his touch as they moved together, harder and harder until Aoba writhed on the blanket, mouth gaping and body trembling from head-to-toe. The pleasure was building, burning so hot Aoba couldn't take it and all he could do was gasp and buck back, buck up, arch forward as his hand dove between the two of them, fingers wrapping around his twitching, leaking dick. He stroked himself once, twice, and that's all it took for him to finally cum so hard he screamed Mink's name.

Mink followed not a moment behind, stilling deep inside of Aoba with a grunt of his name, a shiver dancing over his skin as Aoba's nails dug in the hardest they had yet. He panted against the crook of Aoba's neck, arms shaking as they moved to grip Aoba's hips, then his sides, slowly lowering him onto the blanket as he too slumped down, arms soon braced on both sides of Aoba's head.

They panted together, both recovering slowly; Mink kissed Aoba after a moment, and Aoba eagerly reciprocated, smiling against his lips.

"That felt so good," he breathed, tired and broken; Mink huffed out a short laugh.

"It did." He kissed Aoba again.

After a few more moments of light kisses, the temperature once again registered in Aoba's mind now that it had begun to clear of frenzied lust. Really, it seemed to be getting colder—that, or the cooling sweat coating his body made it feel much worse than it was.

"I'm cold," Aoba breathed; Mink frowned, immediately rolling off of Aoba, grabbing the blanket, and tucking it around his shoulders. Aoba smiled.

"We should probably head back soon," Mink said as he settled back on his knees, tucking himself away and squinting at the sky. Aoba followed his line of sight; the sun was beginning to set, it seemed. "I don't want us to get caught in the dark."

Aoba nodded, though he himself was perfectly content to stay there for the rest of the evening, wrapped in a warm blanket with Mink to serve as his main source of heat. Another time, perhaps.


After cleaning themselves up (and Aoba was the one who needed most of it), they packed their things and headed back down the mountain. Thankfully, they made it to the bottom just as the sun nearly dipped below the horizon, and slipped into Mink's car; Aoba was attached to the vent as soon as Mink turned it on.

"This wasn't the best weather to take you out in," Mink muttered as they pulled out of the lot.

Aoba shrugged. "I had fun," he muttered, rubbing his bare hands together in front of the vent. "I'd definitely like to do it again." He blinked. "...If that's okay."

As they rocked to a stop at the stop sign posted at the exit, Mink threw a quick smile Aoba's way.

"I'd enjoy that."

Aoba blushed behind his hands.

Aoba dozed off in the car yet again as Mink drove him home, and once they arrived, he could hardly wake up; it took Mink a good five minutes just to rouse him enough for him to open his eyes, and even then, he was barely awake.

Mink sighed, giving Aoba a pitying look.

"I wore you out," he said. Aoba mumbled something, blinking slowly, and shook his head.

"...S'fine," he said with a yawn and a sleepy smile thrown Mink's way. He reached forward, searching for Mink's hand; he found it fast enough and gripped it as tight as his weak muscles could. "I wanna do it more...dates…" He yawned.

Mink snorted and squeezed Aoba's hand.

"Of course." He paused. "...Would you like to stay at my house one night?"

Aoba was much, much more awake.

He blinked with increasing speed, cheeks coloring fast when the cogs in his sleepy mind began to turn.

A night at Mink's. An entire night. Eating together, sleeping together, waking up together. It sounded like a dream.

...But there was just one problem.

"...I'd love to, but…" Aoba sighed. "Desire would probably feel left out. You know how he gets."

Mink huffed.

"Of course he would." With a sigh, Mink pulled his hand back and tucked a strand of loose hair behind his ear. "He can come as well, I suppose."

Aoba's eyes went wide.

A night at Mink's. An entire night. Eating together, with Desire eating enough for five people; sleeping together, with Desire wrapping himself around Aoba like he was a body pillow, if they even slept, that is; and waking up together, to sleepy kisses and insistent cuddles.

Aoba gave a little smile.

"That sounds perfect."

And, after a long goodbye, Aoba headed inside.

Chapter Text

This shouldn't have been so surprising.

After being out in the cold for over half of the day and putting forth so much physical effort, it shouldn't have come as any surprise that Aoba would be a bit run down. Couple that with going to public school during the fall, and, well…

"I'm fine, Granny." Aoba barely kept from gagging when Granny yanked the thermometer from his mouth and glared at the tiny screen, expression severe. She sighed, looked to Aoba as he rubbed his sore throat, looked to Desire as he bounced on the bed next to Aoba, then back at the the thermometer as she lowered it away from her face.

"You have a fever." Her eyebrows creased. "You're not going to school."

Aoba paled.


"No buts." Granny put her hands on her hips, head tilted high. "You're resting today."

Desire grinned, leaning towards Aoba with glimmering eyes.

"I'll take good care of you."

"Yes, you will," Granny huffed, one eyebrow cocked; Desire frowned, eyes draining of light as they flitted to Granny. "I have to work late at the hospital tonight and Aoba needs a babysitter."

Desire groaned. "But—"

Granny's eyebrow arched higher; Desire slumped forward, onto Aoba who glared daggers at him.


And that's how this predicament came to be.

"Do you need anything else?"

Aoba sank deeper into his rumpled bed with a loud sigh.


"Are you sure?"


Desire huffed, then crawled into bed next to Aoba, flopping down, back against the cold wall. Aoba's eyes went wide.

"Aren't you worried you'll get sick?"

Desire shrugged. "Not really. I slept with you last night, anyway."

Aoba pouted, then flopped onto his side and snuggled closer to Desire with a yawn.


"That's what you get for wearing yourself out." Desire frowned, one arm thrown around Aoba's waist, one hand tucked underneath his own head. "I can't believe he got you sick."

Aoba glowered the best he could. "It's not like he meant for this to happen."


Sighing, Aoba pulled back, eyebrow twitching quite a bit. "You just love finding excuses to hate him, don't you?"

"It's a hobby."

Aoba collapsed back down.

"My body huuurts."

"Then rest."

Aoba groaned and jammed his face against Desire's chest. His head felt fuzzy; his temple pounded.

"...You smell good."

Desire cocked an eyebrow.




Aoba groaned again.

"Why don't you take a nap, Aoba?" Desire played with Aoba's hair, lips twitching up into a little smile when Aoba snuggled even closer; but then, he frowned as his fingers ghosted over the clammy back of Aoba's neck. "...You really are warm."

Aoba mumbled against Desire's chest.

But before Desire had a chance to say anything else, Aoba fell fast asleep.

Desire was a terrible babysitter.

He tried his best, truly, he did, but when Aoba grew warmer—so warm he began to sweat and twist and kick the sheets away only to tug them back up when he shivered—Desire started to panic.

"C'mon, pick up." He bit his lip hard, foot tapping against the ground, arm clutched across his chest as he shifted the phone from ear to ear. It rang once, twice, three times—but Granny didn't pick up.

With an exasperated huff, he tossed Aoba's phone onto the bed.

What was he supposed to do?

He had memories of when they'd been sick before but never had he been the one who cared for another; he knew pills could be taken to lower a fever but… His eyebrows knitted tightly. He didn't have the slightest idea of where they were.

Grabbing Aoba's phone once again, he practically flew downstairs, panting hard by the time he reached the bottom, and pressed the phone back against his ear as he ripped open kitchen cabinets only to swear violently when all he found were plates and pans.

"Come on, Granny," he muttered, gnawing on his lip, hand raking through his hair as he tried calling once more. He was worried, extremely so; he knew the likelihood of it being a simple cold was high, but Aoba was burning up. "Come on!"

Granny didn't answer.

Groaning at the ceiling, Desire nearly hurled Aoba's phone at the wall as an outlet for his growing frustration; luckily, he caught himself just in time, but it was still tempting. Very, very tempting.

Biting his lip even harder, Desire stormed around the kitchen, trying his hardest to locate something that could be used to bring down Aoba's fever; he had no luck there, so soon he moved onto the bathroom, but he didn't find anything resembling a pill bottle here, either, much to his dismay.


What now?

The only adults he knew were Granny and Mink. Granny was busy, and Mink, well…

Desire's face grew tight; he checked the time on Aoba's phone, chewing his inner cheek as he thought his limited options through. He could try lowering Aoba's fever some other way, he knew this, but really, he didn't have any idea what he was doing; knowing him, he'd be lucky if he didn't end up making Aoba's condition worse.

So, with a sigh of resignation, he pressed Mink's contact and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Where's the thermometer?"

Desire jerked his chin to Aoba's nightstand; Mink picked it up and, with a sigh, clicked the button and stuck it under Aoba's tongue. Aoba was hardly awake and only mumbled with closed eyes as Mink did this, but complied nonetheless (it's not like there was much else he could do).

With another sigh, Mink looked to Desire.

"Tae really left you to care for him?"

Desire glared. "Uh, yeah?"

Mink frowned, then looked back to Aoba, face creasing the smallest bit.

"I'm glad you called me."

Desire's eyes widened.

"Don't think I wanted to." He cringed at himself; that just made him sound worse. "But I was worried, and I don't know many people…" He sighed, bringing up a hand to fluff out the back of his hair. "Good thing you just got off of work, huh?"

"It was good timing, although I was in the middle of something."

Desire lifted an eyebrow.

"And that was…?"

Mink's expression immediately turned stormy. "I'm showing priority to a certain student, according to my co-workers. They had a word with me once classes were over."

Desire's jaw dropped.

"They know?"

Mink frowned deeply as he pulled the thermometer away from Aoba's lips and gave it a look, but shook his head.

"I don't believe they do, but I do need to be more careful."

Desire snickered. "What? No fucking in the teacher's lounge?"

With a click of his tongue, Mink glared at Desire, eyes narrow and hard.

"You're the cause of this, you know."

Desire grinned. "I know."

With a sleepy mumble, Aoba shifted on the bed, bloodshot eyes barely cracking open as he did,. Both Mink and Desire went silent when Aoba stirred, looking to him with wide eyes. Aoba blinked slowly; everything was a feverish blur.


Mink flashed a small smile.

"Go back to sleep," he said, pushing a clump of Aoba's sweaty bangs away from his face. With a yawn, a spaced-out look, and a sleepy nod, Aoba's eyes slipped shut once again.

"He's fuckin' out of it." Desire frowned. "I'm worried."

"Don't be." Mink straightened up, holding the thermometer out for Desire to take; Desire squinted at it. "It's not a very high fever, so he doesn't need to go to the hospital. In fact…" Mink stepped to his bag in the corner; Desire watched him with with one eyebrow lifted, thermometer hanging limply in hand. As Mink stooped down and rifled through his bag, Desire stood on the tips of his toes, trying (and failing) to get a better look into his bag, but, soon enough, Mink found what he was looking for, and Desire fell back with a huff.

Desire blinked, eyes on the vial in Mink's hand.

"What's that?"

"A tonic."


"...Of course it is." With a sigh, Desire jerked his chin Aoba's way. "Work your magic, I guess."

So Mink did.

After administering the tonic—and it wasn't easy with how heavily Aoba slept—both Desire and Mink headed downstairs with somber expressions and heavy sighs. The air soon turned cold in the absence of Aoba, however, and once they settled in the living room Desire squished himself into the farthest corner of the couch as he tried his best not to gag on the overwhelming scent of cinnamon.

Mink stared at Desire; Desire stared right back. Silence weighed so heavily Desire could taste it.

"...You can leave."

Mink's eyes narrowed.

"It will take at least an hour to know if the tonic's taken effect."

"I'll text you."

Mink's eyebrow twitched.

"Need I remind you that you're the one who requested my help?"

Desire gave a shrug and a quick flash of teeth. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"A fever is hardly cause for desperation."

Desire's face fell. "It's not like I've dealt with this shit before."

"...That is true."

"So don't be a dick."

Mink huffed.

"I fail to see how Aoba enjoys your company." He made a small noise of disgust, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he shook his head and looked to the wall. Desire leaned forward on the couch, teeth bared, hand slamming down by Mink's thigh as he bristled.

"You're so fuckin' cocky it makes me sick."

Mink's eyes darted to Desire's face; he leaned away, lip curled up.

"...And this is coming from you?"

"Fuck yeah it is."

Slowly, with an expression so tight it looked painful, Mink stood.

"Perhaps it would be best for me to wait upstairs."

Desire leapt to his feet; in a flash, he stood right in front of Mink, much too close for comfort with a grin that spoke volumes of his thoughts.

"Guess I'll come with you."

Mink's eyes were slits.


"It's my house."

"I don't care."

Desire gritted his teeth.

"Listen up." Desire slammed his open palms against Mink's chest; Mink took an involuntary step back, eyes wide. "I'm sick of you and your fuckin' attitude, acting like Aoba's gonna kick me aside for your sorry ass." With narrowed eyes and a widening grin, Desire said: "He loves me more. You're just in denial."

Mink's jaw tensed.

"You're a child," he spat, sidestepping Desire and heading for the stairs; Desire growled and sped after him.

"And Aoba's not? We're the same age, fuckass." He stopped directly in front of the stairs before Mink reached them, arms spread wide, chin tilted up. Mink's glare was chillingly cold. "What?" Desire's eyes flashed. "You gonna hit me?"

"It certainly is tempting," Mink grunted, stepping forward until their chests bumped; Desire grinned up at him. "Move."


Mink gritted his teeth.

"You really are nothing but a child."

"Fuck you."

Mink's eyes flashed.

"Move. Now."

Desire chuckled with a shake of his head.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You don't know when enough is enough, do you?" Mink let out something close to a laugh; Desire's grin split his face in two.

"But fucking with you is so much fun."

Mink's open palm landed against Desire's chest; ungracefully, he lost his footing, flailing and gripping the rail with both hands for balance before his ass hit the ground—barely. His entire body shook from the sting of the smack, but he wasn't angry. No, it was something else.

He was excited.

With an airy laugh, he straightened up again, licking his lips as dusted himself off.

"What?" he breathed, stepping closer, invading Mink's space. "You wanna fight?"

"As if you could win."

Desire's body tensed and curled, fists clenching at his sides; but, soon, he relaxed once more, grinning up at Mink with drooping eyes.

"I've been waiting for this." He bit his lip again and brought his hands up, running them down Mink's chest and groaning at the feeling of it beneath his fingers, hot and hard and strong.

Mink grabbed his wrists.

"What do you think you're doing?"


"You're delusional."

"Oh, come on." Desire rolled his eyes, then jerked one hand away and smacked it against Mink's crotch. "Aren't you pissed off?"

Mink's breath hitched; his eyes grew even narrower.

"Don't you wanna break me?"

Desire jammed the heel of his palm against Mink's groin, gasping out a laugh when Mink grabbed a clump of his hair and yanked his head back. "That hurts." He bit his lip, eyelashes fluttering when Mink tugged so hard his scalp stung.

"Let go."

"Not a chance."

Mink wound Desire's hair around his fist and, as his lip curled, whipped his hand to the side, slamming Desire against the wall.

"Shit!" Desire's eyes watered and he shivered, hands gripping Mink's wrist tight, eyes wide as he stared at Mink who towered above him.

"If you want to be broken, find someone else." Mink loosened his hold on Desire's hair and stepped back, fists clenching and unclenching as he held them at his sides. His pupils were wide, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged—Desire only laughed.

"You're so excited."

Mink worked his jaw, but Desire's grin didn't dim one bit—until Mink stepped away from the entryway and back into the living room, that is.

"Hey!" Desire sprinted after him with a growl, grabbing his arm and yanking him back once he reached him. Mink, with a snarl of his own, ripped his arm away, eyes wide and teeth gritted.

"Leave me alone."

Desire's laugh was enough of an answer; and then, on a whim he couldn't suppress, he balled his fist, lifted it high, and hurled a punch straight at Mink's jaw.

Naturally, he missed.

He swore violently when Mink dodged his blow but, as he was grabbed by the neck, hurled forward, and his face was smashed against the couch, his wounded pride was the least of his worries.

His eyes went so wide they bulged and he reached behind him, clawing at Mink's arm; it didn't do a lick of good as Mink settled in, legs on either side of Desire's hips, weighing him down. And when Mink's face drifted closer to Desire's ear, hair spilling past his shoulders and tickling his neck, Desire shivered.

"Are you ready to be put in your place?"

In half a second, Mink shifted and the sharp tear of fabric hit Desire's ears; he wiggled and clawed at Mink's wrist, at the couch, at whatever he could, but when cold air hit his thighs, he froze.

This was really happening.

"Guess your self-control's not as good as you thought, huh?" Desire licked his lips and let out a little moan, wiggling his hips the best he could under the heavy press of Mink's weight. With a low growl—a sound Desire had never imagined hearing from Mink—Mink smacked his ass hard, making Desire yelp with a violent jolt; that hurt.

"Shut up."

Desire opened his mouth, response on the tip of his tongue, but before he could, Mink grabbed a fistful of hair and shoved his face deeper against the couch; suddenly, speaking was a lot more difficult. He gritted his teeth against the cushion, shivering when hot, calloused hands rubbed at his thighs, peppering his skin with goosebumps, making him spread his legs wider on instinct. His pulse raced so fast it was all he could hear.

But then, without a word, Mink's weight was gone. Desire couldn't see a thing; his body tensed until his boxers were pulled—no, more like ripped—off. Only then did he relax once more, sinking against the couch with a muffled laugh.

He forced his face to the side, grinning up at Mink the best he could.

"You really are excited."

Mink's eyes were narrow and hazy, but, somehow, he cracked a smirk of his own.

"I told you to shut up."

"Make me."

Mink shoved Desire's face against the couch again; Desire moaned and clawed at the scratchy fabric, groaning as Mink's rough fingers trailed from the small of his back down to the crack of his red ass.

"How thoughtful," he laughed, voice a muffled mumble. He could have rolled his eyes; he might have, but doing anything aside from screaming was difficult when, without a word of warning, Mink jammed a thick finger inside.

It burned. It burned so badly—and as it was dragged back out so slowly Desire felt everything, Desire's body thrummed with pain, ass hugging Mink's finger tightly despite the agony it caused. He gritted his teeth tighter, until his jaw ached, but he didn't tell Mink to stop, he wouldn't dream of it; hell, this was what he'd asked for.

And he loved it.

Moaning loud, mouth open wide against the couch, Desire bucked back against Mink's finger, forcing it in deeper, making him writhe from the sharp, dry burn. "F-Fuck." It was agony; blissful agony. Desire's head swam.

"You moan like a whore." Mink forced his finger inside once more, lips twitching, eyes gleaming as Desire raised his ass as high as he could. When Mink loosened his hold on his hair, Desire turned his face to the side, cheek pressed firm against the couch; tears ran down his red cheeks, but all he did was smile.

"You love it." He bit his lip, eyebrows knitted, vision flickering as Mink twisted his wrist. "D-Don't go easy on me, yeah?"

Mink lifted an eyebrow but quickly forced another finger in beside the other, wincing himself at the nearly inhuman sound Desire made.

"It hurts!" Desire pounded his fists against the couch, hips rocking back, gasping again and again as Mink thrusted so hard his head slammed against the armrest. His vision went spotty and he moaned; the pain in his scalp, his temple, his ass—it all blurred together, and he couldn't get enough. "Fuck me already!"

"Impatient." Mink's breath came heavy and he spread his fingers wide; Desire shuddered. "You'll bleed."

"I don't fucking care!"

Mink took a staggered breath.

"...Very well."

So, he pulled his fingers out.

As he shivered and licked his lips, settling in, ass up, legs spread just for Mink, Desire laughed.

"Don't pussy out on me."

Mink scoffed, tugging himself out of his fly; Desire lifted an eyebrow as he watched over his shoulder.

"Worked up?"

"Who said you could speak?"

Desire grinned with a bite of his lip.

"Who said I needed permission?"

Mink, hard cock in hand, rubbed himself against Desire's twitching hole, wet head teasing the rim; Desire jolted.


"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay quiet." Mink's head tilted back, lips parting just barely. "...It's going to hurt."

"That's the point, dipshit."

Mink growled, pushing forward harder until Desire was just about to give.

"You really do talk too much."

Mink slammed inside.

Desire's eyes went wide and he swore at the top of his lungs, back bowing, mouth hanging open as he thrashed only for Mink to hold him down with a wicked curl of his lip.

"Regret it?" Mink's voice was strained; he humped forward, burying himself even deeper, cracking Desire wide open.

Desire, with a weak moan, shook his head as he collapsed back against the couch, wet face buried against it. His entire body throbbed.

"It hurts," he gasped. "D-Don't stop!"

Mink, with a small noise of disgust, swivelled his hips, groaning himself at how tightly Desire hugged his cock—Desire could feel it too, how his body sucked Mink in despite the pain, and the thought made him moan out Mink's name.

"This is sickening," Mink grunted out, ramming his hips forward as Desire rocked back. Desire laughed, quiet and breathy.

"But you're so hard." He bit his lip, shivering when Mink pulled out—things were wetter now, smoother, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to know why. "Are you imagining fucking Aoba l-like this?"

With a scoff, Mink slammed back inside, making Desire whine as his body rocked forward.

"I'd never treat him this way."

Desire laughed through a pained moan, body jolting and swaying as Mink set their pace: rough, merciless, and without a second to breathe.

"S-So it's just—ah!—m-me, then?" Desire's back arched back and Mink grabbed him, pulling him flat against his chest, grunting and groaning against his ear. Desire, lip bitten hard, threw his hands up to lace through Mink's hair, winding it through his fingers and yanking as Mink rocked up.

"Exactly." Desire felt Mink's hot breath, the curl of his lip, the muscles of his chest—everything. "But this is what you asked for, isn't it?"

Desire groaned, head lolling forward, jaw gone slack.

"You're so deep—" He could definitely see why Aoba enjoyed this so much, even if things were much different when he and Mink came together—but even now, the pain had begun to fade out, mixing together with his pleasure until he couldn't tell where one stopped and the other began. "Mink."

Mink shuddered and, in response to Desire's moans, slowed his hips until he was barely rocking up at all, only grinding, swiveling his hips; the wet, disgusting sounds made Desire gasp. Slowly, with a groan, Desire's eyes cracked open, and he licked his lips, panting hard as his body shook.

"Don't slow down, you m-motherfucker," he hissed, pulling Mink's hair harder; Mink growled and, in retaliation, latched his teeth onto Desire's neck, biting down so hard and fast skin broke and blood gushed out. "Fuck!"

Mink kept his hold on Desire's neck as his hips picked up speed yet again and only broke away to shove Desire back down, hand against his neck while the other gripped his hip to yank him back whenever he rocked too far forward.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Desire thrashed and tried to wiggle away—it hurt, it fucking hurt—but Mink held him firmly in place, and, after the struggle proved fruitless, Desire went limp, giving up as his vision flickered and his mouth fell wide open.

Mink grunted above him, nostrils flared, face drawn tightly as his hips snapped and his body trembled. "Have you learned your lesson?"

Desire tried his hardest to glare, but when he was pushed down so far his cock—and he was twitching, leaking, on the verge of bursting—rubbed against the rough couch, he only nodded as he gasped.

"Yes!" He bit his lip until blood and drool dribbled down his chin, moans increasing in volume the harder Mink rammed into him. It hurt so badly but still felt so good, so amazing, Desire knew he was on the verge of slipping.

Until Mink wedged a hand between Desire and the couch, stopping his pleasure short.

Desire's eyes went wide at the additional pain as Mink squeezed his cock—and he was so close he could taste his release—and growled, teeth bared, eyes wide and desperate as he looked to Mink for an answer.

Mink only smiled.


Desire gaped.

"...Fuck you."

Mink rammed inside yet again, gripping Desire's cock so tightly he let out a sob.

"Would you rather we stay like this?"

Desire shook his head, sobbing harder as Mink fucked him raw, forcing him deeper against the couch with every thrust.


"That's not good enough."

Desire pounded his fist against the couch, mouth open wide against it; a wet spot had begun to form beside his cheek, but he was too far gone to notice.

"P-Please let me c-cum?"

"Try again."

Desire felt like he was going crazy—completely and utterly insane. The heat, the pain, the pleasure

"I wanna cum! I wanna f-fucking cum!" he sobbed. "Please, Mink, fuck me, let me cum, sh-shoot inside, fuck me harder I don't care just let me cum—"

Mink stroked Desire's cock once, hand sliding from the base to the slippery tip, and that was all it took for Desire to shiver and shake and moan so loudly his own ears rang.

His orgasm was immediate—it started out intense, so intense Desire's vision went white, but as Mink fucked him through it, not giving him a second to rest as his body shuddered and jerked, Desire's eyes bulged, he screamed, and he came so hard and so much he couldn't breathe.

Mink followed soon after, stilling only after Desire was done, panting, slumped against the couch and filled him to the brim, his own eyes squeezed shut as his cock jerked. Desire gave a weak moan at the stinging warmth—he was sore, exhausted—but a clear of someone's throat made him jerk his head up.

He gaped.


Aoba cleared his throat again, face a mess of red, eyes to the wall, arms hugged tightly across his chest. After a long, tense moment, his gaze flickered back to Desire and Mink, who both wore expressions of equal horror, then to the sight of their joining and the mess trickling out of Desire's ass as Mink quickly pulled out; Desire hissed as he fell against the couch, landing in a mess of his own cum. (That would be fun to clean up later, he was sure.)

"...I-I…" Aoba swallowed hard, dragging his eyes away once again. "I wanted a glass of water."

Mink held his face in his hands and shook his head, muttering under his breath, but, as he sat up straight with a violent wince, all Desire did was laugh.

Chapter Text

"My ass hurts."

As Mink held a pouting Desire bridal-style and carried him up the steps, the look on his face nothing if not exasperated (and perhaps even slightly embarrassed), Aoba gave a hard huff.

"That's what you get for pissing him off," he mumbled, trailing up the stairs behind Desire and Mink. Mink's lips twitched up but a swift kick to his side made his expression fall quickly.

"Maybe he just sucks at controlling himself."

"Maybe you're just good at pissing him off."

Desire pouted worse.

"It didn't take much," he said, wiggling in Mink's grasp as they reached Aoba's room. Mink lifted an eyebrow when Desire squirmed out of his arms, but as Desire got to his feet only to topple over, hands slapping against Aoba's bed as he yelped, Mink sighed.

"I told you it would hurt."

"Shut up," Desire groaned, face buried against Aoba's bed. "It was worth it."

"If you say so." Mink's eyes drifted to Aoba and his lips twitched up. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Aoba's cheeks flushed red at the memory and, as he scratched the back of his head, he let out a nervous little laugh.

"I-I mean...I expected it? Eventually…" His eyes drifted to Mink's face and he smiled the best he could. "I think it's good that you guys got to bond."

Desire snorted.

"That was some pretty fun bonding."

Aoba rolled his eyes, but, as his mind spun, he brought a hand up to his forehead with a small groan. Mink frowned.

"You should lie down," he said, wrapping an arm around Aoba's waist and guiding him towards the bed. Desire peeked up and frowned as well, then crawled into bed properly and plopped down, back to the wall, being sure to leave just enough room for Aoba to curl up next to him.

"How do you feel?" Desire asked, pressing the back of his palm against Aoba's forehead, his cheek resting against his other hand.

"M'fine," Aoba said, settling in, head against the pillow. "I feel...a lot better, actually."

Desire smiled. "Good." His eyes flickered to Mink, and he said through a quiet mumble: "...It's thanks to him, I guess."

Aoba's eyes drifted over to Mink; he blinked quite a few times.

"...I think I remember drinking something; I thought I was dreaming." His lips twitched up. "Was that because of you?"

"It was," Mink said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I whipped something up before I came over. Desire was awfully worried about you."

"Way to be a snitch," Desire huffed. "I was, though. I wish Granny didn't leave this morning."

"She'll probably be home soon," Aoba said.

His eyes went wide.

Speaking of Granny…

"We really need to clean up downstairs," Aoba said, pulling away from Desire in a hurry; his vision flickered and his head spun from sitting up so fast, but if Granny were to come home and see the mess Desire and Mink left… Aoba shook his head—he didn't want to think about that.

"You two rest." Mink stood and placed his hand against the top of Aoba's head, leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the temple. "I'll clean everything up."

"Are you sure?" Aoba blinked fast and gulped, heart fluttering, hand coming up to grip Mink's arm. Mink smiled.

"Of course. It's the least I can do."

"Damn straight."


But even Aoba could admit, Desire wasn't entirely wrong.

After cleaning up the mess left downstairs, Mink headed home, leaving Aoba and Desire to wallow in self-pity and full-body aches. Aoba helped clean Desire up the best he could, but, despite Aoba's protests, Desire chose to collapse on the bed before he was truly patched up. He wouldn't budge.

"...I think you got blood on the bed."

Desire popped one eye open, hand drifting up to his stinging neck; his fingers came back wet.

"...My bad."

Aoba snorted.

"You finally got what you wanted, huh?" He yawned, squinting at the blinds. The sun was beginning to set; the glare made Aoba's head throb worse.

"Yep." Desire grinned. "And it was awesome."

Aoba laughed.

"I feel bad for you, though." His lips twitched. "Usually, I'm sore, but after the beating I'm sure you took…"

With a grimace, Desire groaned.

"...Don't remind me." He shifted with a hiss. "My ass hurts."

"Take it slower next time?" Aoba shrugged one shoulder. "It helps."

"Of course you'd know."

Aoba couldn't deny it, even if his cheeks puffed out at the accusation; but before he could respond Desire brushed his lips against Aoba's cheek.

"Let's get some sleep, okay?" he yawned, eyes slipping shut as his head fell back. "I want you to get better."

Aoba's chest warmed.

"Yeah," he said, snuggling up closer. "Let's sleep."

After Mink and Desire's fiasco and Aoba's surprisingly quick recovery, the week passed by slowly. School went as always, and Aoba received his midterm grades come Tuesday—surprisingly enough, he managed not only to pass each of his tests, but his lowest grade was a C, the highest being an A (in Mink's class, no less). Mink seemed more proud of Aoba than Aoba was of himself.

"It's a relief," he said as he drove Aoba home on Friday, "to know that our relationship hasn't negatively impacted your education."

Aoba frowned, but nodded after a moment's pause. "I've tried to make time to study, even if Desire kinda...gets in the way, sometimes."

Mink snorted. "I can only imagine what he's like to live with."

Aoba smiled.

"He's not as bad as you'd think."

As they pulled up in front of Granny's, Aoba sighed, disappointed that their time together was ending so soon—but then, quite suddenly, he remembered something that made him perk up quite a bit.

"...Is the offer to sleep over sometime still open…?" Aoba peeked up at Mink through his bangs, expression sheepish and shy; Mink blinked quickly.

"Of course," he said after a moment, lips beginning to twitch.

Aoba bit his lip.

"...So I can go pack my things and get Desire?"

Mink chuckled.

"If you'd like."

Aoba's heart leapt.

After a quick kiss he exited the car and bounded inside, practically flying up the stairs and bursting into his room, door slamming against the wall from how hard he pushed it open. He startled Desire so badly, in fact, he jumped nearly a foot off the bed and slapped a hand over his chest, eyes terrified and wide.

"Holy shit—"

"We're sleeping over at Mink's."

Desire blinked.

"...Okay?" Slowly, he got off the bed, eyeing Aoba with one eyebrow raised. "...He's cool with me coming?"

Aoba nodded, jerking the closet door open as he searched for clothes, backpack falling to the ground as he did. "Yep."



Desire smirked.

"Okay, then. Sleepover at Mink's it is.

They were back in Mink's car within five minutes.

Unfortunately for Aoba, given that Desire and Mink's last encounter was...interesting, to say the least, the air was stiff and stale as they drove. Desire opened his mouth quite a few times, and each time Aoba braced himself for the worst—but nothing came.

Aoba was nervous.

When they reached Mink's house (without incident, surprisingly enough), Mink carried Aoba's overnight bag inside, sparing Desire not a single glance before he headed to the door.

"...I should've stayed home." Desire clung to Aoba's side, pouting against his shoulder. "He still hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," Aoba murmured, pecking Desire's cheek quick and hard. "Now stop pouting—we're gonna have a nice night, okay?"

Desire sighed.


So they headed inside.

Once there, Aoba and Desire took to settling in: Desire on the stiff wicker couch, silently complaining with his glances and sighs, and Aoba on the rocking chair in the corner, scowling at Desire.

"I take it you two haven't eaten," Mink said as he returned from the back of the house, Aoba's bag left behind. "Does anything sound good?"

Aoba perked up.

"I'm not picky!" He peeked at Desire. "We're not picky."

Desire rolled his eyes.

"Just feed us."

With a huff, Mink got to work.

Seeing as they were staying the night, Aoba soon hopped up and followed Mink into the kitchen to offer whatever help he could; Desire, on the other hand, sat still for a few more moments before boredom got the best of him and he, with a little, mischievous grin, hopped up and decided to take a look around.

It's not like Mink had anything to hide, right?

He putzed around the living room first, picking up pictures—one of a little girl with long, brown braids standing with a woman who looked awfully like her caught his interest for a moment—only to set them down when they offered no lasting relief for his boredom.

So he headed deeper into the house.

He heard the sounds of activity in the kitchen: Aoba's voice going a mile a minute, Mink's occasional chuckles and the hard clanking of pans, but figured, since they were so involved in each other, his absence would go unnoticed.

He was correct.

Pushing the door to Mink's room open, Desire chuckled to himself; maybe he could find something interesting, something that would make Mink seem just a little less perfect in here. It's not like he was bitter, not at all.

He rolled his eyes.

Drawer upon drawer was opened and not a single item lay untouched as Desire tore Mink's room apart—neatly, of course. He found clothes—boring, plain brown and tan button-up shirts and rack upon rack of denim jeans—medicine wheels, dream catchers, feathers, braided ropes—

Tubs of salves and creams.

Desire lifted an eyebrow and stepped deeper into Mink's closet (the place of discovery), interest suddenly piqued. There were little papers tied to the wooden tubs by small strings of hemp; he couldn't have left these objects untouched if he tried.

He picked one up.

Holding it in his palm—and it fit snugly, perfectly—Desire flipped the handwritten, paper card open, eyes going wide when he read what it had to say.

"Holy shit," he breathed. He knew Mink was odd, he knew Mink was 'traditional' (just another word for weird, in his opinion), but seeing this definitely shed a new light on the man.

He made aphrodisiacs.

With a grin so wide it split his face in two, Desire unscrewed the cap, flinching as the smell of flowers and herbs hit him straight in the face. He held it up, closer to his nose, and took a stronger whiff, shivering just a bit—this was a fantastic discovery.

And it was giving him ideas.

He capped and slipped the little tub into his pocket and stepped out of Mink's deep closet, heading back into his bedroom, then the hall, and, when he reached it, called for Aoba once, twice, three times. Eventually, Aoba peeked out from the kitchen, a little scowl on his face.


"C'mere for a second."

Aoba looked skeptical.

With an apologetic look thrown towards the back of the kitchen, he stepped out and headed to the back of the house.

"What do you need?" He stopped directly in front of Desire. "We're trying to cook."

Desire grinned.

"I want you to try something."

Aoba tilted his head back, body curving away from Desire.


Desire's eyes roved to the ceiling, but he reached into his pocket, pulled out the little tub, and uncapped it nonetheless. Aoba watched the entire time with worried, apprehensive eyes and a troubled expression, but made no move to stop Desire; perhaps he was more curious than he let on.

Desire scooped a glob of white cream onto his fingers.

"Open wide, Aoba~"

Aoba held his lips shut tight, shaking his head. Desire's eyes gleamed.

"Come on."

"I said n—"

Desire shoved his fingers past Aoba's lips.

Aoba's eyes went wide and he nearly gagged, but, as he slowly (albeit reluctantly) relaxed, seeing as Desire had no intention of stopping, he sucked on the white substance, finding it didn't taste half as bad as he expected; it was almost sweet.

"Taste good?" Desire's cheek twitched from the strain of such a wide grin. "I found it in Mink's closet."

Aoba's face dropped.

"...You went through his things?" His voice was flat, as was his expression when Desire pulled his fingers away. "That's rude, Desire."

"I never claimed to be anything less."


Mink peeked around the corner and Aoba jumped, heart pounding all over the place. With a glare towards Desire who hurried to slip the tub away, he sighed and headed back for the kitchen.

"Is everything alright?" Mink asked once Aoba reached it; Aoba paused.

"...Yeah," he squeaked, shuffling deeper into the kitchen, head down, cheeks red.

And as he laughed to himself Desire knew, without a doubt, that tonight was going to be a blast.

Dinner was delicious.

Mink made stew again, but its flavor was slightly different from last time, Aoba noted; they used a wide array of spices, some of which Aoba never knew existed before that moment, but when they all came together like this, tied into one dish by fresh vegetables and high-quality, thick-cut meat, Aoba felt he'd gone to heaven. Even Desire didn't have a snarky word to say as he dove in, shoveling food into his mouth at the speed of light; Mink seemed pleased by the silence.

But halfway through the meal, Aoba began to feel strange.

He mentally cursed Desire and his insistence, noting to give him an earful later. He truly was like a child, Aoba knew, but this was pushing it even for him—what if he'd given Aoba something he was allergic to, something that could hurt him?

Aoba knew Desire wasn't that careless.

But he really did feel strange.

Loosening the collar of his shirt, Aoba took a deep breath, then another. And another. And another.

He felt warm.

"I-I don't feel that well," he mumbled, head spinning as he pushed his chair away from the table. He felt the need to be alone, to lie down, to get away from the warm kitchen. "C-Can I lie down?"

Mink gave him a look of concern.

"Of course—is it something you ate?" His eyebrows drew closer together; Desire snickered as Aoba shook his head quickly.

"I sure hope you feel better soon, Aoba." Desire leaned forward, elbow against the table, cheek against his hand, a little grin on his face. "I was really hoping we'd all have a good time tonight."

Aoba glowered.

"Shut up," he hissed, stomping into the living room. Once there, he collapsed onto the couch, shivering though he was the furthest thing from cold he could imagine. What the hell did Desire give him?

I won't forgive him for this, he thought, flopping back on the wicker couch, arms tossed above his head as his breathing picked up. His clothes felt tighter than before, like they were trying to suffocate him, but he couldn't imagine why. Unless…

His eyes bulged.

He would never forgive him.

Mink stared at Desire for quite a long time after Aoba left, eyes searching his face over and over again. Clearly, Desire's expression wasn't as innocent as he'd hoped.

"...You were out of our sight for quite some time."

Desire paused, spoon in his mouth. His eyes twinkled as they settled on Mink.

"Sure was." He lowered the spoon, tapping it against the edge of his bowl. "Nice of you to finally notice."

Mink's face grew tight.

"...What did you do?"

Desire only smiled.

"You'll see."

From the living room, Aoba groaned.

Mink was up in a flash, chair nearly toppling over in his haste to reach Aoba; Desire watched him leave, expression far past amusement.

"Ao…ba…" Mink's eyes were wide as he caught sight of Aoba.

He was a mess.

His arms were still tossed above his head, but the only difference now was that he was lacking a shirt and his pants were unbuttoned, sporting a lump so obvious Mink's cheeks colored just from the sight of it. As Desire trailed in behind, hands in his pockets, face as nonchalant as ever, Mink gave him a hard glare and extended his palm.

"Give it back."

"What makes you think I still have it?"

Mink didn't budge.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Desire reached into his pocket and slapped the tub against Mink's hand—but this didn't change their situation, not in the least.

"I feel weird," Aoba groaned, squirming on the couch; he pouted at Desire. "You're a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"

Desire brought his hands up with a playful shrug. "My bad."

"You drugged Aoba," Mink growled, face steel-hard. "This is inexcusable."

Desire pouted. "It's just herbs and shit. I read the tag."

"But you didn't ask him if he wanted to take it, did you?" Mink spat; then, he looked back to Aoba, who wore the look of someone entirely dazed. "...This isn't good."

"I think it's pretty great."

Both Aoba and Mink shot Desire a glare.


"I hate you," Aoba groaned, biting his lip. "I...I feel weird, Desire; my body's hot and,'s your fault!"

Desire's eyes gleamed.

"I knew tonight would be fun," he breathed, stalking forward and sliding his hands up Aoba's stomach; Aoba gave a breathy little moan, body arching towards the press of Desire's palms.

Mink clicked his tongue.

"I suppose the damage is already done," he sighed, stepping next to Desire. He gave Aoba a small smile. "Do we have your permission to touch you, Aoba?"

Aoba nodded quickly; Desire's mouth was all over his chest.

"Please," he breathed. "I-It kinda, kinda hurts!"

"Shh," Desire chuckled, hand slipping down to Aoba's groin; he squeezed him over his pants, shock flitting across his face for just a moment. "...You're really hard."

"Kudos to you for stating the obvious." Mink shook his head. "Let's go to the bedroom—this isn't the proper place."

Desire nodded, grinning from ear-to-ear as he helped Aoba sit up. "We'll take real good care of you," he breathed, lips dragging up Aoba's neck; Aoba tilted his head, jaw hanging open. It felt so good when his skin was like this, so raw, so sensitive.

Mink cleared his throat.


Desire broke away.

They stumbled a good bit, seeing as Aoba wasn't good for much more than clinging to Desire and rutting against whatever he could, but once they reached the bedroom, Desire tossed Aoba onto the bed, crawled on top of him, and got to work.

Aoba's pants were quick to go; they were half-off from the beginning, but once they were gone completely, along with his boxers, Desire couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Shit—that does look painful."

Aoba nodded, lip bitten hard.

"H-Help?" His voice sounded so strained, so desperate Desire shuddered.

"Of course," he breathed, kissing down Aoba's chest yet again, pausing only to play with his nipples; Mink got to work on his own clothes as he stood near the edge of the bed.

"I know most of your actions can be chalked up to immaturity, but this is low even for you, Desire," Mink muttered, tossing his shirt aside. Desire shrugged.

"It all worked out in the end, right?" His eyes darted up to Mink. "I mean, just look at him…" Slowly, Desire dragged his hand down to Aoba's cock, standing hard and tall and dripping without pause; it jerked under his hold, and the way Aoba squirmed, the noises that leaked out made Desire's cock throb. "This was so worth it."

Aoba pouted.

"Remind me to hit you l-lat-ah—" He arched back as Desire stroked him from base to tip, fingers rubbing hard against the soaking-wet head; his voice was shrill and weak. "Oh God, oh God, Desire—"

"You're so sensitive," Desire breathed, easing himself down until his lips brushed against the tip of Aoba's dick. "And wet."

"Vulgar as always," Mink sighed, stepping out of his pants; Desire eyed his cock with obvious hunger.

"Says the man with a dick that hard?" Desire wiggled his hips, jerking Aoba against his lips. "Let's treat Aoba well, yeah?"

Mink gave a wry smile.

"It's not like you've given us much of a choice."

"P-Please!" Aoba writhed, clutching the pillow above his head as Desire lapped at him slowly, so slowly he felt his mind crumbling to pieces and his feet slipping against the bed. "Don't t-tease me, Desire, please, please—"

"So needy." Desire caught his tongue between his teeth. "Get us some lube, old man?"

Mink scowled, but complied nonetheless.

"I don't like the look on your face," he muttered, settling in beside the two boys on the bed, holding the tub of lube out for Desire to take. "It's unsettling."

"I just wanna show Aoba a good time—is that really so bad?" He winked at Mink, then dipped his fingers into the tub as Mink unscrewed it and set the cap aside. "Spread your legs, Aoba."

Aoba, with a small, dazed frown, let his thighs fall open. Desire sucked in a sharp breath.

"Sometimes, I can't believe how hot you are…"

Mink snorted; Desire threw him a glare.

"Save it."

"I didn't say anything."

"Stop stalling." Aoba kicked at Desire's hip, squirming on the bed; Desire winced.

"Alright, alright," he said, chuckling under his breath as his fingers dragged between Aoba's cheeks. "You're so cute when you get all impatient, Aoba."

Mink snorted, then shifted positions, leaning down to kiss Aoba firmly; almost immediately Aoba's hands darted up, winding through Mink's hair and pressing him closer, mouth opening wide in desperation. Desire scowled.


Mink's shoulders shook.

Sighing, Desire caught his tongue between his teeth once again and rubbed the rim of Aoba's hole, eyes falling low as Aoba shuddered and moaned, legs spreading even wider as his hips rose off the bed.

"You love being filled so much, don't you…"

Mink's eyes cracked open, settling on Desire's flushed face, but Desire didn't pay him any mind.

"Even without the drug, I bet you were looking forward to this…" Desire slid one finger inside, not stopping until it was swallowed up completely; Aoba jerked away from Mink, moaning louder than Desire had ever heard before—and that was saying something. "Who do you want inside of you first? Me, or Mink? We can take turns…"

Mink let out a heavy breath, eyes falling low as Desire spoke. "You really are perverse."

Desire chuckled. "Want me to show you just how 'perverse' I am?" Leaning forward, eyes locked with Mink, Desire spread Aoba ass even wider and flicked his tongue against his hole.

"D-Desire!" Aoba thrashed, nearly clocking Mink in the face—luckily, he leaned back just in time, but his eyes were wide as he watched Aoba writhe. "It's embarrassing!"

In response to Aoba's whining, Desire wiggled his finger out, grabbed Aoba's hips, and shoved his face against his ass.

Mink's eyes bulged.

"Oh, oh God, oh—Desire!" Aoba's mouth fell open and his body shook, going limp as Desire's tongue pressed and lapped and wiggled inside, swallowed up even more eagerly thanks to the drug Aoba took. And truly, this felt better than Aoba could ever remember—every press of Desire's tongue, every flick against his walls made his eyes roll and his mouth hang open, jaw practically unhinged.

But Mink was watching.

Covering his hot face, Aoba whined against his hands and shook his head. "H-He's gonna think it's gross!"

Desire lifted an eyebrow, hazy eyes cracking open for just a second as his tongue paused.

"...Are you an idiot?"

Aoba glared through the cracks of his fingers.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Desire pulled away.

"Hey, old man." Mink blinked. "You think rimming's gross?"

Mink raised an eyebrow.

"...Not particularly."

Desire looked back to Aoba.


Aoba whined.


Before Aoba could finish speaking, Desire slipped away, eyes shining with mischievous light. "Hey, Mink—wanna trade places?"

Mink took a staggered breath, eyes roving to Aoba's face, then back to Desire's before he answered.


As he watched the exchange through the cracks between his fingers, Aoba's heart pounded, body shaking from every shift of the covers against his sticky skin. And when Mink settled between his legs, hair falling over his shoulders and sticking to the sides of his face, Aoba groaned.

"This is humiliating," he whined; but he didn't make any effort to move, much to Desire's amusement.

"We'll stop if you really want us to, Aoba."

Aoba pouted. "I-I didn't say I wanted you to st—ah—ah!"

Mink's tongue was against him.

Unlike Desire, who was quick and hasty and borderline rough with everything he did, Mink's tongue was slow and wet and warm and gentle as it traced the rim of his hole—Aoba's throat tightened and his hand clamped over his mouth, body tensing, hips lifting, and eyes focusing in on Desire's face. Desire gave him a warm smile.

"Feel good?"

Aoba nodded.

Mink's eyes cracked open and when Aoba met them he jolted, whining with bunched eyebrows and flushed cheeks. "M-Mink—" He squirmed so badly Desire had to lean over and force his hips back against the bed, chuckling all the while, but Aoba only threw his head back with a groan.

It felt much too good.

"M-More—" he choked, hand falling away from his mouth, resting against his chest, scratching at it. "I want more."

Desire gnawed on his lip, exchanging a little smirk with Mink.

"We aim to please~"

Within seconds Aoba was flipped, ass raised high in the air, thumbnail caught between his teeth as he glanced back. He wiggled his hips with a nervous little noise—having two sets of eyes staring him down all over again was more than just a bit nerve-wracking.

"Stop looking—"

Desire yanked his hips back.

"You never answered my question, Aoba…" Desire's lip curled up. "Who do you want first?"

Aoba screwed his eyes shut.

"I-I—" He wiggled on the bed, clutching at the blanket with his hand. "S-Surprise me?"

Desire frowned, then rolled his eyes.

"You stretch him more," Desire said, picking up the lube and holding it up for Mink; Mink scooped out a generous portion, smearing it against Aoba's hole before slipping two fingers inside, taking a sharp breath as he did. Desire chuckled.

"Y'know…" Desire's eyes flashed. "I've got an idea."

Leaning over, his lips paused right outside of Mink's ear as his hand shielded his mouth; Aoba threw a cautious look over his shoulder, face falling with confusion and just a dash of worry.

Mink cleared his throat.


With a little, confused noise, Aoba watched Mink shift away, fingers falling out as he did—Aoba shivered in response to feeling so empty, but his whine was cut short when Desire lifted his shirt over his head with flashing eyes and a wide grin.

"I'm gonna go first, Aoba."

Aoba's heart thumped.

"Might as well show Mink what we do when he's not around, yeah? I think he deserves a second show."

Aoba whined, burying his face in the pillow; but his hips wiggled and he moaned when Desire gave his ass a little smack.

"Something tells me you like that idea."

"Please," Aoba breathed, eyes watery and barely open. "Please just, just—" He bit his lip, hips rolling back when Desire's fingers slid against his crack. "Ngh—Desire, I want you inside."

His face burned.

Desire, with wide pupils and a rough laugh, threw his legs over the side of the bed and wiggled his pants all the way off.

"Your wish is my command, Aoba," he breathed, shifting once again, now fully nude; his cock stood hard and tall, twitching at the sight of Aoba, bent over and begging for it. "We haven't been at it as often, have we? Are you frustrated?"

Aoba huffed. "Something like that," he mumbled, squirming when he felt something hard brush against his ass. "Please—"

Desire's cock nudged against his hole.

"You really want it?"

Aoba's mouth fell open.

"Please—d-don't—" He gritted his teeth, tossing his head over his shoulder with the hardest glare he could manage. "Don't be a dick, Desire."

Mink snorted, hand slapping over his mouth.

Scowling, Desire huffed with a muttered, "Fine," then slowly, with a handful of Aoba's ass gripped in one hand and his own cock in the other, began to push inside.

"O-Oh—" Aoba buried his head in the covers with a bite of his lip; being filled always felt so good.

But Mink was here.

They were taking turns.

Aoba writhed.

"Whoa—" Desire, gripped Aoba's hips as he humped all the way inside, shivering at Aoba's heat, and let out a rugged laugh. "Gettin' a little too excited, there?"

Aoba whined.

"It's embarrassing!" he groaned, bucking back against Desire, grinding his ass against Desire's pelvis. Desire watched with wide eyes.

"Your mouth says one thing, but…" He grinned. "I don't think I need to finish that sentence."

He pulled out.

Aoba clawed at the sheets in anticipation, feeling Desire slide almost all the way out before slamming back inside so hard Aoba yelped and fell forward.

"Ah—ah—ah—" Desire set a hard pace from the beginning—one that Aoba's burning body was more than grateful for. His back bowed, his body flushed, his thighs fell open even wider—

"Don't stop!"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Desire bit his lip hard, watching his cock slide in and out of Aoba's tight, wet ass. "You feel even better than usual, damn—guess that drug really worked."

Aoba groaned.

"Mink can he—ar you—" He rubbed his face against the covers, eyes rolling back; the bed was damp with his drool. "More!"

Desire lifted an eyebrow, but soon gripped Aoba's hips tighter, dragging him back in time with the hard snapping of his hips. Aoba was submissive as a doll.

"Like that?" Desire breathed; Aoba whimpered. "I'll take that as a yes."

Mink shifted on the edge of the bed; Desire looked to him with a cocky expression, head tilting back as his hips continued to move, hard and fluid.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Mink cracked a wry smile.

"D—Desi—" Aoba pounded his fist against the bed, gasping. "G-Gonna—slow down—I—"

Desire slowed his hips to a crawl, chuckling under his breath when Aoba seemed to melt.

"Hey, Mink…"

Mink lifted an eyebrow; Desire caught his gaze.

"How many rounds is Aoba good for? You know more about that drug than I do…"

Mink took a sharp breath.

"...It depends on the person. But given his age…" Mink's eyes grew darker. "There's plenty for both of us."

Aoba moaned.

"I'm gonna c-cum, D-Desire—" His chest pressed and rubbed against the bed as his back arched, ass thrusted out even farther. "Ah—feels so good." His voice was a drawn-out whine and he shuddered; Desire's hips snapped faster once more.

"Go ahead," Desire rasped out, biting his lip even harder. "Let us watch you cum, Aoba~ Ooh, you got even tighter."

Aoba's jaw unhinged.

"D-Desi—Mink—I—I'm—" He thrashed beneath Desire, body jerking and thrashing all around as Desire struggled to hold him in place. This pleasure, it was too intense, too much, he was climbing too high—

Aoba came.

He came harder than he could ever remember; he came so hard he couldn't form a single thought. All he could focus on was the feeling of Desire inside of him, the feeling of his body on fire, the feeling of Mink's eyes all over him like he knew they were. It never seemed to end.

"Sh-Shit—" Desire's hips stilled and through the remnants of the haze, Aoba felt something suspiciously warm pour inside of him; he smirked.

"Mm…" Aoba's eyes cracked open, blurry and narrow, and he swiveled his hips as Desire pulled away. Desire's breath caught. "Mink's turn?"

Desire gaped.

"...Holy shit."

Mink snorted again.

"As I said," he murmured as he shifted, clearly ready to take Desire's place behind Aoba, "there's plenty for both of us."

Slowly, Desire grinned; Aoba was a total mess, whining and wiggling and pouting like he couldn't get enough, even with cum dripping down the backs of his sweaty thighs and an ass gaping wide.

Desire's heart pounded.

"Mink's turn."

Chapter Text

Aoba was in total bliss.

Being with Mink was amazing, no matter the circumstances: the power behind his hips, the shape and girth of his length, the way he was gentle but still strong enough to fuck Aoba into oblivion sent Aoba straight to heaven.

But this was even better.


Mink grunted, body draped over Aoba's back as his hips snapped harder and faster, just as requested. Desire, his own eyes low and breaths coming heavy and short, sat on the edge of the bed, watching their every move.

"He's so hot like this."

Mink chuckled.

"He is."

Mink took this moment to slow his hips, grinding against Aoba, reaching the absolute deepest he could go while Aoba only groaned, body like jelly against the bed.

"Are you alright?" Mink asked, lips brushing by Aoba's ear; Aoba shuddered.

"G-Great…" He gave a little smile, turning his head, nuzzling Mink's cheek. "Feels so good…"

Desire gagged.

"For the love of God, save that mushy shit. I just wanna watch Aoba get banged."

Aoba's eyebrow twitched.

"After m-making me t-take—" Mink's hips picked up speed; Aoba bit his lip, cheek pressed back against the bed. "T-Take that, that stuff—you don't have any—ah!—right to complain!"

Desire pouted.

But Aoba wasn't wrong.

"Whatever." He brought his knees to his chest, keeping one eye on the bodies next to him as they rocked and swayed. He bit his lip. "...I'm gettin' hard again."

Aoba rolled his eyes.

"Of course you a—ah—ah—"

Mink swiveled his hips; Aoba's jaw went slack as he gasped.

"Oh my God—" He bucked back, groaning when Mink dragged by his prostate perfectly as he pulled out. "Ah—m'gonna—"

Desire jumped forward, smacking Mink's arm; Mink lifted an eyebrow, hips slowing to a crawl, much to Aoba's (very vocal) dismay.

"I wanna do it." Desire's eyes flashed, drifting to Aoba's ass, stuffed to the brim. "He might not last long, though."

Aoba made a small noise of confusion, scratching at the sheets while he panted, lips parted wide.


Mink pulled out.

Groaning and collapsing against the bed, Aoba swore under his breath, glaring hard at Desire through cracked-open eyes.


Desire grinned.

"Lie on your back, okay?" He gave Aoba's ass a little smack; Aoba shivered. "We're gonna make you feel even better."

Aoba whined and, slowly, after a moment of careful consideration, flopped over, groaning at the strain his lower back already felt.

"M'gonna be sore later," he breathed, squirming in place, one eyebrow raised as he watched Desire shift.

But when Desire threw his leg over Aoba's waist and sat on his stomach, Aoba froze.

"...What are you doing?"

Desire's eyes were dark.

"You'll see."

Aoba held his breath, eyes wide as Desire reached over, scooping a huge glob of lube onto his fingers and bringing them up. He winked.

"After last time, I think I'll use some of this." He grinned, leaning forward, sweaty hair falling in Aoba's face, and reached behind himself, gasping as his fingers dragged between his crack. Tongue caught by his teeth, he slowly eased one finger inside, holding himself open with the other hand and shivering as he felt himself give.

Aoba's jaw went slack.

"Y-You—" He clamped his lips shut, swallowing hard. His throat was entirely dry. "You're going to…?" He looked to Mink, whose face was blank aside from the bright spark of lust in his eyes, then back to Desire.

Desire cocked one eyebrow, finger moving in-and-out, stretching him open as he caught Aoba's gaze. "I'm gonna ride you."

Aoba couldn't breathe.

"You—me?!" His voice must have risen an entire octave, much to Mink and Desire's clear amusement.

"Yup." Desire slipped another finger inside, moaning under his breath. "I gotta say, I've been thinkin' about this for a while—I figure now's as good as ever, yeah?"

Aoba blinked.


Aoba was in awe.

After another moment of Desire stretching himself wide, he reached over for the lube once more, fingers popping free from himself, and scooped up another thick glob of cream; but, this time, it was for Aoba's cock.

Aoba shivered, gripping the sheets as Desire stroked him, lifting his hips and lining himself up with Aoba's twitching, aching erection. Aoba held his breath on instinct; he couldn't remember the last time he'd been inside of someone, and just the thought alone brought him so close to cumming it was embarrassing.

"I'm gonna ride your cock," Desire said, rubbing the dripping head against his ass, biting his lip hard. "And Mink's gonna fuck your ass. Sound like a deal?"

Aoba nodded quickly.

"P-Please—I want—"

Desire dropped down.

"Fuck!" Desire threw his head back, shuddering as his hands slammed against Aoba's chest, ass pressed flush against his groin. It hurt. "Shit—fuck—too fast—"

Aoba's eyes were wide, chest heaving; Desire was tight, wet, hot, hugging him so well—

"Desire," Aoba groaned, eyes open hardly a crack as his hips rolled. He looked to Mink, face flushed and desperate, and lifted his hand, grasping at the air. Mink shifted closer.

"Poor Aoba," he chuckled, looking at Desire's face; Desire threw him a weak grin.

"More like lucky Aoba," he breathed, grinding on Aoba's lap. "Fuck—he ain't nearly as big as you, but he feels so fuckin' good…" He moaned, tossing his head back, hair falling down his back. "You're so hard, Aoba."

Aoba whined.

"I can't believe—" He swallowed, throat sticky and dry. "I can't believe this is...happening." He gave a weak thrust, hips barely lifting off of the bed.

Desire chuckled, sliding up just a bit before falling back down with a quiet moan; Aoba jerked.

"It's happening, baby," he chuckled, grinning wide, hips starting to bounce. "Think you can handle it from the other end, too?"

"Please." Aoba's hands slapped against Desire's hips as he threw his head back, gasping. "Ngh—Desire!"

Desire laughed, tossing his head to the side, pressing his hips flush against Aoba's pelvis as he ground down—hard.

"This is so much fun," he breathed, fingernails dragging down Aoba's sweaty chest; Aoba whimpered, biting at his lip and scrunching his eyes shut. "Bet you can't—ngh—wait to feel Mink inside of you—haah…"

At that moment, Mink somehow managed to move behind Desire without him noticing; Desire yelped in surprise, then glowered, then let out a low moan as Mink's hand slid against his chest, feeling him up in a way he'd hardly expected. Desire grinned.

"Turned on?"

"You have no idea."

Desire fell forward, bouncing harder, riding Aoba until all Aoba could do was pant and groan and dig his nails into Desire's hips, trying to slow him down, trying to hold on, trying to stay sane.

"You're—a-ahh—too g-good at this—"

Desire moaned, hips slowing as he felt Mink's weight press against his back. With a low chuckle and a quick lick of his lips, he gripped Aoba's cheeks, fingers stroking his jaw, his pleasure-twisted face. He kissed his nose.

Mink gripped Aoba's thighs, holding them open.

"Are you ready?"

Aoba nodded, his hand sliding off of Desire's hip and flying to his own scalp, gripping his hair, sliding against his face; his fingers even slipped into his mouth, and he nodded again, moaning, hips finally falling into rhythm with Desire's relentless bouncing and grinding. With a small, restrained grunt, Mink lined himself up, and pushed inside.

"Holy shit—" Desire slowed, tossing his head back. "I felt that—he's twitchin' so fuckin' bad…" A dark, slow laugh dripped from Desire's lips, and his head fell forward; his eyes were open only a slit. "You like that? You like Mink's dick?"

Aoba whimpered, nodding, shuddering with an expression that showed nothing but pure bliss.

"S-So much—I l-love it…" He bit his lip, shaking his head, screwing his eyes shut. "It's—this is embarra—ah—ah—"

Mink began to move.

"He isn't going to last like this," he breathed, lips against Desire's ear; Desire shuddered.

"T-Told you," Desire moaned, his own hips (and they'd slowed quite a bit) gyrating once more. "I can't wait for him to fill me up…"

Aoba could do nothing more than pant, eyes tightly shut—pleasure seemed to envelop him from every angle, from every possible direction, and he found his mind wiped clean, leaving him with nothing but thought of depravity, of cravings of the flesh, of the desire to—

"Cum—" Aoba gasped, writhing, pinned down only by Desire's hips. "I'm going to cum!"

Desire moaned and moved his hips in a slow, wide circle, squeezing the cock buried deep in his ass with a wide, mischievous grin.

"You and me both, baby."

Mink grunted, hips stuttering just a beat as he rocked into Aoba. Aoba couldn't tell which was more tantalizing—the feeling of Mink's thick length stretching him open, or Desire's tight ass squeezing his cock in ways he never imagined possible.

Aoba's chest heaved.

"I-I—" He threw his head to the side, hands flying up above his head, grasping at the pillow above his head, desperate for something to hold onto. One last thrust, one last squeeze, and Aoba was thrown head-first into the purest pleasure he'd ever felt, back arching, lips parting, and a high, airy moan dragged deep from his chest.

Desire came next.

"Aoba," he groaned, tossing his head back, hips losing their steady pace; heat shot through his body and his jaw fell open, cock spraying his chest, leaving it splattered with white. He heard a grunt behind him and felt Aoba's body jolt, and, once he recovered enough, threw a lazy grin over his shoulder paired with a quick wink.

"Good idea, right?"

Mink shook his head with a sigh—but even through the tangled mess of hair shielding his face, Desire knew he was smirking. With a laugh and a little wiggle of his hips, Desire turned to Aoba.

"Are you still mad at me,…?"

Desire blinked.

"...He fell asleep."

Mink shifted back, rolling his shoulders with yet another small sigh.

"A side-effect."

Desire looked his way, eyes wide.

"...There are side-effects?"

Mink, exasperation as clear as if he'd written it across his face in ink, only stared.

"It's made of herbs to relax, disinhibit...sensitize…" He shook his head. "Forget it."

He stood.

"Clean yourself up," he muttered, running his hand through his hair; his eyebrows were creased together, forming deep lines between his eyes as though his thoughts were too loud. Desire frowned.

"...What is it?"

Mink shook his head.

"Clean yourself up," he said again, stepping towards the door, back to Desire. "We'll talk once Aoba wakes up."

Desire blinked, mouth hanging open; and as the door fell shut, his stomach turned.

Chapter Text

It seemed like an eternity until Aoba finally awoke later in the evening, groggy, blurry-eyed, and hardly fit for conversation. It took a few moments, but once he was fully awake (or as awake as he could be at nearly two in the morning), Aoba was livid.

“I hate you,” he hissed at Desire, fists shaking as he balled them in the sheets. “That was humiliatinghow could youI can’t believe for a second that you thought that was okay!“

“I know," Desire whined, face in his hands. “I’m sorry, okay? Itit seemed like a good idea at the time!”

Aoba wasn’t impressed.

“You’re seriously like a toddler, you know that?” Aoba’s lip twitched. “Actually, you’re like that one special toddler that thinks it’s a good idea to put their hand on the stove when it’s burning ho


Desire and Aoba both looked to Mink; he sat across the room on a wicker chair, legs crossed at the knees. His expression was harder than Aoba had ever seen it.

“Desire’s actions were inexcusable, regardless of his maturity, or lack thereof.”

Desire frownedbut once Mink glared at him (as he’d done for hours as they waited for Aoba to awaken), Desire shriveled where he sat.

“M’sorry,” he grumbled, folding in on himself, arms hugging his knees. “I didn’t mean to make anyone mad.”

Aoba sighed, shaking his head. Desire was pathetic like this. “LookI’ll forgive you eventually, okay?” Aoba’s eyes were downcastdowncast and sad. “Just please don’t do that again. It makes me feel like I can’t trust you.”

Desire nodded, his own eyes wide like an apologetic dog. For the first time Aoba could ever remember, he truly seemed sorry.

“I’ll never do it again. I swear.”

Aoba didn’t feel the least bit better.

The rest of the night was awkward, to say the leastDesire slept on the brown couch (or, more accurately, stared off into space until the sun began to rise), and Aoba and Mink slept in Mink’s bed, curled closely together. Aoba couldn’t seem to fall back asleep, either; his thoughts were going way too fast.

“I can’t believe he did that,” Aoba whispered, cheek pressed against Mink’s chest. Mink stirred, legs shifting beneath the sheets.

“As you’ve said before, he’s like a child,” Mink mumbled, trying to mask his own exhaustion. “He does seem apologetic, though that doesn’t mean you need to forgive him.”

Aoba huffed.

“...Yeah,” he said, sighing. “He does seem sorry. It justhe’sI’m just

“It’s alright,” Mink said, eyes cracking open as he squeezed Aoba’s shoulder; it was as though he could sense Aoba’s rising anxiety. “I won’t let it happen again.”

Aoba peered up with a slow blink.


Mink smiled, and gave a long nod.

“I promise.”

Aoba fell fast asleep.

The following morning was uncomfortable, stiff, and formal. Desire kept his hands to himselfno ‘good morning’ hugs or kisses were offeredand soon excused himself, stating he was going for a walk. Aoba was disappointed, and it showed.

“Cheer up,” Mink said, offering Aoba a mug of fresh coffee; Aoba took with a grateful smile. “Let’s view this as a growing experience.”

Aoba was grateful for more than just the coffee.

“Yeah…” he sighed, bringing the steaming cup to his lips. “Honestly, I’m not even mad anymoreI just...wanna talk to him.” Aoba peered up, hope in his eyes. “...He’s grown up a lot, right?”

Mink blinked a few times, then nodded slowly, arm around his waist and back against the counter.

“From when we first met, yes.” Mink stared into the black of his mug, then gave a low snort. “He’s leagues beyond what he once was.”

Aoba sat a little straighter.

“Soso this was just a slip-up, right?”

Mink’s eyes flickered up. Slowly, cautiously, he nodded.

“If it’s an isolated incident, then yes.”

“Soso as long as he keeps behaving, then he’s made progress, right?” Aoba’s hands shook as he gripped the mug tighter, tighter. “He’s not all bad?”

Mink’s expression softened, and he nodded againthis time, without hesitation.

“No,” he said, bringing his mug to his lips. He seemed thoughtful, even more so than usual. “He’s not all bad."

Desire came back long after breakfast, cheeks rosy and eyes on the ground. Aoba couldn’t help but smile when he saw him, more than ready to talk once again, but Desire was too busy memorizing the woodwork of the floor to pay him any mind. It was clear he didn’t feel welcome.

So Aoba approached him.

“Hey“ Desire jumped, eyes darting to Aoba. He bit his lip and tilted his head down: something that again reminded Aoba of an apologetic, naughty dog. Aoba opened his arms. “Come here.”

Desire stayed frozen in place for a moment, lips parting, then closing, then parting again, much like a fish. But eventually, with a quivering lip and watering eyes, he bounded towards Aoba, nearly toppling him over in his haste. He squeezed Aoba tightly, face buried against his neck.

“Hey“ Aoba smiled, squeezing Desire back just as hard as he squeezed him. “I forgive you, okay? You don’t have to run away.”

Desire squeezed his eyes shut.

“II don’t s-see why y-you’d forgive m-me,” he stuttered, voice thick, words heavy. “S’not like I deserve

“Hey.” Aoba’s voice was stern. “Don’t start with that. You deserve a lotand messing up doesn’t mean you don’t.” Aoba patted his back. “Just don’t do it againever. That’s when we’ll have a problem, alright?”

Desire let out a little sob, burying his face in the crook of Aoba’s neck.

“Y-You d-don’t h-hate me?”

Aoba shook his head.

“I don’t hate you.” He pushed Desire’s hair behind his ear with a sympathetic smile. “I love you. A lot.” He gave a short laugh. “Enough to put up with you.”

Desire tried to laugh as well, but it sounded strangled.

“Y-Yeah…” He sniffled, pulling away and wiping his nose with the back of his jacket sleeve; he didn’t look Aoba in the eye. “I’ll be good, y-yeah?” Aoba’s heart twisted; Desire looked on the verge of breaking down. “Just d-don’t get rid of me?” Desire’s gaze drifted up; his eyes were brimming with tears. “Please?”

And that’s when he broke.

Desire flung himself at Aoba, sobbing against the crook of his neck, begging to stay, to be with Aoba, to be forgiven—and Aoba held him, tightly as he could, offering all the comfort he had in himself. Mink didn’t disturb them, even if he heard the happenings in the living room; he let them be, something Desire was more than thankful for.

“It’s alright,” Aoba said, smoothing Desire’s hair back. “I forgive you.”

Eventually, Desire quieted down, an exhausted, crumpled heap on the floor, Aoba supporting his weight. He offered a wane smile, eyes red, cheeks flushed, and voice rough as gravel.

“...Thank you.”