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"I just want to say," Goro whispers, "I hate both of you."
"Happy anniversary to you too," Akira says brightly, and Goro snaps his teeth at Ryuji when he laughs.
The way he gasps when Ryuji’s hand trails feather light up his exposed cock is embarrassing, body jerking forward against the table with a choked off groan. That just makes Akira laugh, and Goro thinks they should be lucky he loves them as much as he does, because otherwise he would despise their conniving asses.
"What's wrong?" Akira asks, all fake cheer when Goro digs his nails into the table. He really wishes they wouldn't do this here—some half hidden away booth in a half full restaurant—but he should have known Ryuji and Akira were up to something when they'd insisted on an "anniversary dinner" when they weren't due for an actual anniversary for weeks.
He’d started getting suspicious when Ryuji had slowly worked him open on his fingers on the drive over, pressed tight into the backseat while Akira drove. He’d been a bit delirious, already on the verge of an orgasm when Ryuji slipped something long and thick inside of him, and he’d nearly shouted when Akira had lifted a hand from the steering wheel and flicked on a remote that killed every rational thought that had still existed in his head. He’d been shaking by the time they’d escorted him into the restaurant, Akira’s hand low and possessive on Goro’s spine.
Ryuji snickers as he presses him further into their side of the booth, his nose pressing gently at the underside of Goro’s jaw. "How're you doing?" he asks happily, hand continuing its frustrating wandering under Goro's clothes, too light to do much but leave Goro sticky in his underwear and borderline murderous.
"Fine," he snaps, and then shudders when Ryuji's teeth scrape gently against his skin. "Fucking peachy."
"You've barely touched your food," Akira says, leaning forward with an amused smile. Goro's brain is too foggy for him to really tell if the burst of frustration at the look is because he wants Akira to shut up or crawl under the table and put his mouth around Goro's cock.
"I wonder why," Goro grits out, and barely catches the whine that rattles against his teeth when Akira's hand twitches, and the stupid fucking vibrator inside of him pulses harder. "Oh, fuck you," he gasps. It’s barely audible over the other sounds around them, the gentle chatter and the clacking plates but there’s always the chance someone hears him, that maybe their waiter will come by again and finally wonder why Goro’s face is flushed so red. Fuck. Fuck.
"That's not a very nice thing to say to your favorite boyfriend." Akira pouts, and the vibrations die down a bit, still humming uncomfortably against his insides.
"You look so good," Ryuji says into his ear, and Goro instinctively thinks Oh no. Ryuji runs his mouth a lot, but especially when he's turned on, and Goro hates how strongly he reacts to it. Mostly because its Ryuji and the inane bullshit he says while they're fucking shouldn't make heat roll through him the way it does when he calls Goro out on how he looks spread out against their bed or pushed against a wall.
"I can feel how hard your dick is, you know," Ryuji purrs, and Goro curls in on himself with a groan. "You like when we get you off in public, huh?"
"Not... particularly," Goro grits out.
"You know how to get us to stop," Ryuji says, with a kiss to the heated skin of Goro's neck. Damn him.
"I don't want you to stop," Goro growls. "I want you to fuck me."
"Goro," Akira says, in mock disapproval. "You're just going to waste all of your food like that? We treat you to a nice dinner date and all you can think about is getting a cock in your ass.”
"Please," Goro croaks, and whines quietly when Ryuji's hand under the table twists just right. It makes all of Goro's muscles pull tight, his knee jerking hard under the table. "Do you wanna hear me fucking beg? Is that it?"
"Wouldn't hurt," Ryuji says into his ear.
“Fuck you,” he spits out again, but his heart isn’t in it, body strung too tight with toe curling heat. Fuck, Fuck he wants Ryuji to take him into the bathroom and fuck him on the floor.
“For real?” Ryuji laughs. “That’s dirty, ‘kechi.”
Goro groans. Of course he’d been talking out loud. It gets hard to care when the vibrator pitches up again, and Ryuji hand joins the maddening pressure building under Goro’s skin, his hand stroking harder over the aching length of his cock. Goro’s body feels like a fucking live wire, like if he shifts just right he’ll come all over Ryuji’s stupid, hot fingers.
“Is that really what you want, angel?” Akira asks from across the table, leaning forward to look incredibly and infuriatingly smug. Goro hiccups on a quiet moan in response. “I bet if anybody saw Ryuji leading you off to get fucked on the floor of a dirty bathroom, they’d know for sure how wet you are in your polite little pants.”
“He’s dripping all over my fingers,” Ryuji purrs back, and Goro feels his hand slow, even if the vibrating inside of him isn’t giving up just yet. “You feel like a fucking slut, Goro.”
Goro bites down so hard on his lip that it breaks, desperate to keep from making any noise that’ll draw attention to the fact that he’s losing his goddamn mind. Ryuji nips gently at his skin, too soft to leave a mark but fuck if Goro doesn’t want him to. He feels his dick twitch like it’s not even attached to his body, nerves lighting up like a Christmas tree when Akira so much as nudges at his leg with his foot. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Look at you, you’re so so good, Goro.”
“Please,” Goro whines, broken. He hates how his voice cracks, curses his stupid fucking boyfriends and everything they do to him. “I m-meant it, nnngh! Ryuji, I meant it, take me, take me, fuck me in the bathroom, I’m going to die—”
“You’re so dramatic,” Akira sighs. And then, horrifyingly, like Goro is watching it from outside of his own body, he points at Goro’s half eaten salad and says, “Finish your food.”
It’s embarrassing, but Goro whines. Long and loud enough that Ryuji claps his hand over his mouth, and pulls back with a start. “You’re going to get us caught,” Ryuji says lightly, but there’s an anxious undercurrent to it, and he cuts himself off with a nervous laugh.
Fuck him, Goro thinks, and licks across Ryuji’s palm with a moan. He’s not surprised when Ryuji’s fingers push past his lips, going slick with Goro’s spit. “You want me that bad?” he growls, and the fingers in Goro’s mouth push deep enough that he chokes briefly. “I’m not gonna make it nice for you,” he says low into Goro’s ear. It makes a shiver tear through him, body arching into the gentle rumble of Ryuji’s voice. “You can sit here and come in my hand, or I’ll take you into the bathroom and I won’t put another hand on you. You want me to fuck you that bad?”
“Yes, bastard,” Goro hisses and flinches when Ryuji laughs. “You’re, hah, hah you’re ruining my life, the next time I suck your dick I’m biting it off—”
He’s lucky Ryuji’s hand is nearby because the sound he lets out when Akira pushes the vibration higher is obscene. His legs start shaking underneath the table, and the shift is enough to brush the vibrator across his prostate, which makes Goro fucking sob.
“I’m sorry,” he gasps into Ryuji’s hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re right I’m a filthy fucking slut Ryuji, Ryuji, please I want you so bad—” he’s babbling quietly, voice almost horse from the way he’s been trying to hold back, and his vision is too blurry to make out the grin Akira and Ryuji share.
“Thaaat’s it,” Ryuji whispers, and Goro pants as Ryuji tucks him back in his underwear and zips his pants up with one hand. He slides out of the booth seat and leans over to take Goro’s hand, adjusting himself inconspicuously in his pants.
Goro lets himself be dragged along to the restaurant’s bathroom with flaming cheeks and notices that the vibrator is still carrying on inside of him, like Akira didn’t even think about sparing his poor abused hole. It feels like every person inside is looking at him, knowing that Ryuji is going to drag him off to fuck him in a near public bathroom, and he wish he didn’t care but it makes him burn, body going deliciously warm at the thought that every person inside is one wrong move away from seeing him spread out on his boyfriend’s cock.
Ryuji plows through the bathroom door so hard it makes Goro stumble, and before he can really process it he’s being pressed up against the sinks in front of the stalls, a hand fling out to brace himself beside the faucet.
“Ryuj—” he starts, but gets cut off when Ryuji tugs his pants over his hips hard, and his fingers press into Goro’s ass to spread him apart. Goro can’t help the way he groans, leaning forward further over the sink. “W-we’re still in the open,” Goro gasps, when he feels Ryuji start tugging gently at the toy inside of him. “The stall are, mfh! The stalls are right there, you jackass.”
“Nah,” Ryuji says calmly, and the toy makes an embarrassing squelch noise as it slides out of him. “Said I wasn’t gonna make it nice for you. Gonna fuck you right over the sink, so anybody that walks in can see you fucked out and writhing around like a fuckin’ whore.”
Goro makes a panicked noise. “W-wait, no you can’t—”
“You know what to say to get me to stop,” Ryuji echoes, and there’s a sickly sweet kiss to the nape of Goro’s neck, where his hair has parted and fallen over his shoulders.
And Goro really considers it for a second. This is all… a lot, and his safe word is looking pretty good, even when the sound of Ryuji undoing his belt and pushing his pants over his hips. But he can’t deny the way the idea of someone walking in on them makes heat tear through him hot and intense, the idea of anyone being able to see the way Ryuji owns him.
“Do it,” he says instead. Ryuji puts a hand on his hip and Goro rocks back, chanting, “Do it, do it, do it, fuck!”
Ryuji pushes inside of him fast, all in one long go, and Goro fucking loves his cock, can feel it stretch and fill him the way the vibrator couldn’t. “Yeah?” Ryuji growls. “Yeah? You wanna watch yourself get fucked out on my cock, don’t you, Goro. Little fuckin—” He grabs one of Goro’s legs and hitches it over the counter, pushing Goro forward until he has to plant a hand on the mirror and watch himself as Ryuji tips his hips forward and fucks his brains out. “Shit,” Ryuji snarls.
Goro’s reflection looks like a mess, pupils blown out and mouth slack, tears starting to gather in the edges of his eyes because god Ryuji fucks him like he’s trying to prove something. Goro just braces his hands against the counter and takes it, needy little noises punching out of him every time Ryuji snaps his hips, his long fingers going bruising against Goro’s waist.
“L-like that, just like that oh fuck, Ryuji.”
“Wanted to fuck you in there in front of all of those people, wanted you on your fuckin’ hands and knees with Akira’s dick in your mouth—” he cuts himself off with a cry, and Goro is helpless to do much but echo it back when Ryuji fists his hand in the back of Goro’s hair and pulls, drawing his neck long and tight. “You and your—fuck! Your perky little fuckin’ ass—”
“Shut up,” Goro gasps, and pushes back into Ryuji’s next thrust. “Shut up, shut up, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—” He’s whining too loud to still be almost in public, and his orgasm is starting to wind tight in his stomach, even without Ryuji having to put a single hand on his cock. He’s close, close, close and the hand Ryuji moves around to his throat when he shifts his hips and slams into Goro’s prostate makes him scream.
And then the fucking door opens.
Goro’s eyes snap open to see who walked in and he’s panicking now, afraid the owners have called the police or something, but Ryuji’s pace doesn’t even falter, he just pushes Goro’s face against the cool glass of the mirror to keep him from seeing who walks in the door. And it’s not enough to keep Goro from making high, embarrassed whining noises, because someone is watching, someone is looking—
He comes with a shout and a shuddering whine, because its harder than usual—it rolls through him over and over again until Goro is shaking apart on Ryuji’s cock, spent but still being rocked up roughly against the mirror as Ryuji chases his own orgasm. He notices the door hasn’t opened a second time, which means that whoever walked in is still in there and watching, and Goro throws a glance in the mirror only to let out a half-irritated sigh.
Akira is leaning against the wall with a pleased smile on his face, the picture of nonchalance, one foot up against the wall like he’s got nowhere better to be.
Goro hates him.
(Goro loves him.)
Ryuji keeps fucking him until he groans, leaning over to kiss Goro sloppily as he comes inside of him, pace erratic until it crawls till a stop, and Goro is left with Ryuji’s head on his shoulder and his own breath fogging up the glass.
He winces when Ryuji pulls out of him, the come dripping down his thighs fucking disgusting when Ryuji pulls his pants back up on his hips and kisses low at the base of his spine.
“Did you have fun?” Akira chirps, and slinks forward to kiss Ryuji on the side of the mouth. Goro is still slumped over the sink and dizzier than he’d like to admit, trying to piece his brain back together for his own good.
“He was so good,” Ryuji says enthusiastically, and gets Akira pressed up against the counter himself so he can kiss him senseless, as though he’s not exhausted out of his mind. He’s got way more stamina than should be humanly fucking possible.
“Mmm,” Akira says, pulling away from the kiss with a slick noise that makes Goro’s insides warm with arousal again, too soon. “I suppose that was a passable anniversary dinner.” Goro growls quietly, and Akira fully ignores him, looking up at Ryuji with a pout. “I didn’t get to play very much though.”
Ryuji brightens like the sun’s come out, and leans down again to capture Akira’s mouth in another kiss.
“Can’t it wait until we get home?” Goro asks.
Ryuji is way too happy when he chirps back, “It can not.”