Chapter Text
Atsushi has two of the girls asleep or very near it on his shoulders, and you would be lying if you said you were having a good time.
“Maybe we should call it a night,” he says a little quietly, as if he’s trying not to wake them, though for whatever reason, he seems to be talking to you. You don’t know why he’s bothering, honestly, since everyone has made a point to ignore you for nearly the entirety of the evening. It hurts less now that you’ve imbibed an obscene amount of alcohol, a little, but you’re still irritated enough that you don’t answer him, figuring your assumption about where he’s directing his comment is wrong, anyway.
The other guy who came with the girl on your right stands up. “I think I’ll walk her home,” he says. She gets a little unsteadily to her feet and gathers up her things. “Thanks for inviting us,” he says, and she waves to the other two girls, who are blearily opening their eyes, and of course, Atsushi. You don’t look at her. You’re sure they’re going back to fuck, and meanwhile, you’re more painfully aware than ever of your virgin status.
“Todomatsu-kun, can you help me get them home? I need someone to give me directions.” Atsushi actually used your name this time, so there’s no mistaking it. Your heart flutters pathetically with this simple social interaction directed your way, making it clear how much you’ve been starved for it tonight. Sadly enough, you actually think you miss your brothers. You couldn’t have taken any of them along, both because each would be a worse choice than the last, and because the rest would be hurt by the exclusion. You’ve gotten a taste tonight for how that feels. But Atsushi’s request specifically to you, worded in that way, gives you the smallest glimmering of importance, mixed in with a slew of other petty feelings and a desire to prove him and the others wrong for slighting you, and you find you can’t say no.
You stand up after the rest of them, trailing behind as the four of you walk out to his car, swaying only slightly. And then you hover near them, feeling unwanted again as he helps them into his car. It’s gross, actually, that he’s good-looking, successful, well-off on his own, and kind enough to escort two drunken girls and a drunken loser home on top of it. You’re developing a well-rounded hatred for this fantastic person. On inviting him, a part of your stretch goals had been to possibly adopt him into your friend group—which is to say, get adopted into his. Maybe that would help you rise out of the desperate clutches of NEETdom and lift your social status from sub-rock bottom. But you’re getting the idea that’s not to be. Even this is only him being polite, and his politeness is all you’ll ever merit; nothing more.
“Todomatsu-kun, will you take the front seat?” he says, moving around to the other side of the car.
“What? Oh, sure.” You hear the girls in the back complaining that they both want to sit next to him, and you take the front sit with just a little bit of the sensation of vengeance in your body. This is what they get for ignoring you.
“Where do you all live?” Atsushi asks, buckling his seatbelt. You look around the inside of the vehicle. It’s clean and crisp. It looks brand new—from the pristine grey cloth seats to the lack of even a speck of dust in the cup holders. There’s not as much as a gum wrapper in way of trash. Your drunkenness prevents you from going full bitter and keeps you wallowing slightly above it, feeling pleased that you get to be inside such a vehicle.
The girls give their addresses reluctantly. You belatedly mumble yours out. Atsushi instructs you to put Hana’s address into your phone, saying Miyuki will be next, and you last. You’re the glorified map, you’re reminded as you fumble to tap the location into your map app. You’re just a means to an end. At least this way you know he won’t be getting lucky with either of them.
You find it hard to zone out during the drive because Atsushi keeps gently pressing you for the next direction, but the glimpses you get of the other cars and buildings whirring by in a colorful smear are somewhat soothing to your irritated state. The city is a few splotches of colors and dim grey colors rising up over a black backdrop into the sky, where the moon peers down at you from the topmost corner of the windshield. Your phone screen is just visually a flick of your eyes away, shining just as bright in the darkness, but feels much more artificial, giving the mood radiant distance. You can see why the girls wanted to go for a drive with him.
Soon they’re dropped off, and you’re directing him towards your own house. You’re feeling tired at this point more than sad. You’re ready to be out of his life forever, sure as you are that he won’t contact you again.
“Um, Todomatsu-kun,” he says suddenly. He misses the turn he was supposed to make, and you strain your neck to watch it pass. “I live not too far from here. I’m a little worried about you since you seemed pretty…well…drunk. Would you come in just for a little bit so I can see that you’re okay? I’m sorry if that’s forward of me to ask.”
You turn to look at him. He glances back at you, looking slightly…perturbed. It seems inconsistent with his behavior, and you’re struck by the urge to lash out at this sudden concern for your well-being, because where was it the rest of the evening when he was drinking and laughing with Miyuki-chan and Hana-chan?
The thing that really overturns your desire to shut him down is that you suddenly really, really have to piss. You sink back into the seat and tug the belt around your bladder off your body, quietly consenting to the detour.
You barely make it from the car to his bathroom, making even more of an ungrateful ass of yourself than is strictly necessary by blurting out that you need to use it as soon as you enter and hastily stumble out of your shoes. You spend an extra ten minutes after relieving yourself staring in the mirror at your face, finding yourself subject to the exact opposite of beer goggles. You think you look ugly. Your stupid little nose, your stupid round cheeks, your dumb haircut shoddily hidden under a cheap hat. You finally leave, no longer feeling drunk enough to keep you numb to your mood, fully intending on announcing your intent to go home and sleep off this hangover you already feel forming.
You nearly bump into Atsushi in the hallway. He smiles at you and offers you what he was carrying—a glass of water and a couple of asprin.
“Thanks,” you say cautiously, having lost the phrase you had just formed in your mouth. ‘I’m leaving now.’ Or, if you were feeling less petulant, ‘Thanks for your concern, but I’m leaving now.’
“You should drink at least two of those,” he says, guiding you towards the living room with its tasteful, modern furniture. He seats you on the couch, and takes the matching chair across from you. It’s irritatingly clean in here as well. What kind of bachelor is this guy?
“I’m not really drunk anymore, Atsushi-san,” you tell him, though you sit down and spin slightly anyway. The water feels good on your throat, but your stomach is still bloated with the large amounts of food and alcohol you sullenly consumed.
He smiles. “That’s good, but you should still drink the water.”
“Why are you doing this?” you ask, rude again.
He pauses, unclasps his hands from his lap and rests them on his thighs. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You all ignored me all night, and now suddenly you’re pretending to care about my well-being? Seems kind of two-faced,” you bite out, recognizing the irony in this. What your brothers would say if they knew.
Atsushi grips his knees, looking away. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Todomatsu-kun. I just—”
“You just wanted to be the good guy, right? Well you can cut it out. No one’s watching now. I already get it, you’re better than me.”
“That’s not what I think,” he says hurriedly. You glare at him. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I was really excited when you invited me to come to the mixer because…” he falters, frowning slightly. “I wanted to see more of you.”
As you watch, his face grows redder, and his smile less assured with each beat of your silence. “Are you gay?” you blurt out.
“…Not exactly.”
You take a sip of water, unsure what you’re feeling. Solidarity, maybe. “Me too.”
If you could have a Mexican standoff without guns, that’s how you would best describe the moments that follow. Now that you think about it, maybe Atsushi wasn’t the only one you were jealous of tonight. There’s something about his physical appearance that feels nice to you. He’s taller than you, for sure, and he always looks…ready to confront whatever life throws at him. You wish you had that quality. You wonder if it could be learned by associating with someone who possesses it. Not to mention his car, and his status, and his swanky apartment.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he says with surprisingly little awkwardness, but rather just genuineness.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” you say.
He pauses again, seeming to consider this. “I’m also sorry if you felt I was ignoring you.”
“Thank you.” You’re definitely petty now, but more than that, you’re inexperienced. You’ve basically just told him to fuck off, and now you don’t know how to get him to come back. You look at the water in your hand. The glass is simple and pristine like the rest of his things. You lift it to your lips and drink the rest of it. “Can I get some more?” You’re already standing, but he hastily gets to his feet.
“I can get it for you,” he says.
You dodge him around the coffee table and invite yourself into his kitchen. “I can do it. I told you, I’m not drunk anymore.” You stop in front of the sink, with your hand on the faucet, but his hand closes abruptly over yours to stop it. You look up at him, unsure of what expression you’re even wearing on your own face, but it makes him color slightly.
“Um, the fridge has filtered water.” He takes his hand back a beat too late. You turn around, setting the glass on the counter, and with the way he was standing adjacent to you as you were in front of the sink, you’re now facing each other. He moves to step back, but you reach out with surprising nimbleness (you’re no longer drunk, but you’re not 100% sober either).
You stare a little mortified at your hand, which seems to have acted on its own accord, betraying your own feelings, your curiosity. He doesn’t try to move away, which inspires you to look up at his face. “Atsushi-san,” you say, swallowing. You desperately want to be as cool an aloof as he is—didn’t he just essentially confess to you, after all?—but you’re embarrassed by how you’ve acted all evening, specifically towards him, and you can’t bring yourself to move further than this.
Luckily, Atsushi is a little braver than you. He leans back into you, pressing you flush against the sink as his hands go to your arm and the back of your neck, his lips covering yours in a soft, smooth motion. Your hand loosens in his shirt, then tightens again as you feel his tongue probing gently at your lips. You open your mouth eagerly, letting out a soft noise of want. The more you get from him, the hungrier you are for the rest. You want this with him, and you want it now, and you’re going to keep pushing back everything he sends you as long as you can tonight. You’ve got nothing to lose from here. Even if he’s lying for some reason about liking you, this is as close as you may ever get to actually being with someone. Thoughts of Karamatsu flit through your mind, but you push them out. You haven’t gotten past even this with him, and Atsushi seems willing, the way his hands cup you to him and his tongue slides against yours, thrusting smoothly in and out of your mouth as you try to swallow him down.
You push back on him while holding him to you so he doesn’t think you want him to leave, hoping he’ll guide you out of the kitchen to where you really want to go. He seems to take the hint, stepping backwards with you wrapped up in his arms and him in yours to make some kind of journey to meet some kind of end, if you were to dare to hope. His back collides with the wall, jolting you, and you steer him in the other direction towards the hallway, heart thrumming with equal mixtures of anxiety and excitement. You make it in another doorway without any more accidents, peek open your eyes to spy a plush looking bed before he flips you around and pushes you onto it. You yelp more out of shock than anything and land with your legs and arms spread for him to crawl into, leaning his forehead into yours and smiling. “Sorry, I got excited,” he says. “Is this okay?”
Now giddy, you cup his cheek and nod, squeezing your legs around his, wishing he would grind his hips into yours. But instead he reaches up for your tie, unknotting it and tugging it from your collar, disheveling your buttons easily with his deft hands. When he pushes your shirt open, you moan softly simply from being this bare in front of him. You’re already hard, and you hope you don’t seem too eager. Keen to distract him from what might embarrass you, you reach up for his tie and buttons too, though it takes you a bit longer because you can’t seem to make your hands do what you want, but he’s patient with your fumbling. You keep catching sight of that self-assured smile and feeling your face heat even more. You shove his shirt down his arms and he shakes out of the sleeves so it falls to the floor. He even looks kind of like Karamatsu here, you realize, with his flat, slightly formed abs and chest. Not that you’ve ever seen your brother in this context before. You’re displeased that you’re thinking of him again. What will you tell him? In all likelihood, nothing. He has no claim on you, after all. How could he? You’ve messed around a little, but you’re still brothers, and that makes any kind of lasting relationship with him impossible. Atsushi is here, and he definitely wants you, and he’s definitely not related to you, so that makes him the only logical choice.
He pushes you back down, holding himself over you on his forearms as he kisses you with just his lips. You whine at him, wanting his tongue now that you’ve tasted it, but he moves down you, lighting upon your neck and giving soft pecks that tickle. You feel your entire body light up and you moan again, your neck being one of your sensitive spots. This feels different than Karamatsu. Atsushi is less rough around the edges, more purposeful in his motions, placing every kiss with meaning on your skin, showing the four years of experience he has on you, not to mention he’s not a NEET. He moves down you, down to the dip above your collarbone, and takes your skin gently in his teeth. You clutch at him, raising your hips involuntarily to grind against the air. “Atsushi-san, please,” you beg, loving the way his name feels moving through your mouth, loving putting that inflection on it. It’s nice not to have to make the sounds for ‘matsu’ for once. A welcome change. You move your hands down to his hips and tug at them in a moment of boldness, hoping he’ll oblige you. He does, letting them fall against yours, pushing hard at you, grinding his cock against yours through your constricting pants in a way that gives you waves of relief. Your moan is guttural and new to you. This, you haven’t felt, but you would feel it again a million times over if you could.
His mouth moves against your neck in slow, repetitive motions that are somehow building you exponentially higher and higher. You have a brief moment of panic when you realize that’s definitely going to leave a mark, and that your brothers will know, but now that you’re actually doing sexual things with someone who’s not related to you, what can they say? That thought thrills you a little more, and you moan again when you feel his hard cock rub along the length of yours. You reach between the two of you, hoping you can get his belt off without stopping this beautiful friction, but he stops despite your efforts to pull him back. “No—” you whine, looking frantically up at him when he pulls off you completely.
“It’s okay, just for a minute,” he says, sliding his belt out of the loops and shuffling out of his pants. You let him undo the fastenings on yours as well since you’re apparently hopeless with removing clothes tonight, and bite your lip when he tugs them off of you, exposing you to him. You can’t believe you’re actually naked in front of another guy, who is also naked, who isn’t your brother. You try to glance at his cock discreetly. He’s bigger than you by a bit, and you’re not sure if that excites you or makes you nervous. You wonder if it’ll hurt. You can handle a few of your fingers just fine, but you’ve never tried anything bigger, longer. It’s not going to stop you from trying.
Atsushi ducks away from the bed, digging into the simple yet elegant nightstand and coming back with lube and a condom, confirming your suspicions that yes, he is going to actually fuck you. Your heart is in your throat, but you summon all the sexiness you can muster and lean back on the bed, drawing your knees up as you spread your legs. You drape one hand across your chest, reflexively covering your nipples as you usually do when you go to the baths, and allow yourself to touch your cock just a little with a soft moan. Atsushi seems captivated for a moment, clutching his prizes in his hands dumbly before he climbs back onto the bed and kneels over you.
“Todomatsu,” he says, pressing a firm kiss to one side of your neck. “You are—” And one more on the other side. “—unbelievably sexy.” One last one on your mouth.
He sits back and pops the cap on the lube. You’re blushing fiercely from this intense, genuine compliment he’s given you, and your grip tightens on your cock and you watch him slick up his fingers. “Have you done this before?” you ask softly.
“A few times. Does that bother you? I’ve been checked, medically speaking.” He moves in a little closer between your legs.
“No, I don’t mind,” you mumble. His finger circles around your entrance once, twice, before pressing a single finger in slow and deep. You’re holding your breath, and you only let it out when you notice him frowning.
“Are you nervous?” he asks, pumping it slowly in and out of you. You can feel everything—the whole length of the stiff digit as it moves against your body, your hole stretched just slightly around it—everything.
“I’ve n-never—I’m inexperienced,” you say. It’s not a lie, just doesn’t exactly convey that you’re a virgin. But you think Atsushi can probably guess.
“Maybe I can show you a few things then,” he replies smoothly, pressing a second finger in beside the first and curling them both up expertly into exactly the right spot. You cry out and jerk against him, closing your eyes, and hear him laugh. “You’re sensitive.” It’s not a question, but an observation.
“Am I?” you ask back, trying to keep at least a little bit cool.
“I think so,” he says, spreading his fingers inside you. You make a soft noise and yank hard at your dick. But Atsushi moves forward and takes your wrist. “You might want to take it easy.” You swallow and drop your grip obediently, agreeing that you don’t want to come before he fucks you, both because it would be embarrassing and because you really want to experience it. His hand moves to your other arm, trailing his fingertips along your skin, but not pulling at you. “I’m curious about this, too. Are these sensitive?” You move your arm away shyly and swallow again as he leans down over your chest, flattening his tongue over one of your nipples.
“Ah!” you gasp, lifting into the sensation as well as moving down on his hand as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. “Yes…” you tell him, though you’re sure he’s already gauged that. His teeth clamp down on one bud as he swipes his tongue back and forth across it and you’re squirming, clutching at his back and his arm. With this much stimulation, you could probably come in another few minutes, but you don’t want to tell him to stop, so you resolve to hold your self-control firm and simply will yourself not to come. Thankfully, Atsushi pushes a third finger into you to speed along the process, thrusting them in deep and curling them against you again to make you see stars.
He moves to your other nipple when your first is red and puffy and slick. You don’t think they’ve ever been this hard, even when you’ve bothered to play with them yourself. It’s something about him lavishing the attention on you—something you’ve always felt and outwardly acted like you deserved, at least to a certain crowd. This and all the rest has built your ego up the few pegs it got knocked down this evening. You’ve completely forgiven him, because you don’t think there’s any way a person could fake this much involvement. Honestly, it’s the adrenaline that’s keeping you from breaking down from the sheer thrill of this right now, and maybe also the fact that you’re hard as a rock and aching to see this through to the end.
After an age, Atsushi pulls his fingers out of you and lifts his head from your chest. Your body is still aflame, though, and you wait none too patiently as he unwraps the condom and rolls it over his cock. Your previous anxiety reaches a peak at the same time, or perhaps when he settles between your legs for what will surely be the last time. You grip the back of his neck and his shoulders when you feel his head pressing against your entrance and close your eyes.
“Todomatsu, look at me,” he says softly. You open your eyes hesitantly and feel him nudge into you, stretching you wider, yes, but not deeper yet. He moves slowly and you breathe as subtly as you can, watching him breathe hard as it gets pleasantly tight for him. “Do you hurt at all?” he asks.
You shake your head before you’ve even confirmed your answer, but then you take stock of what you’re feeling. Not pain, just tightness. It’s a little uncomfortable, but not necessarily bad, maybe just weird. It feels different than his fingers, and vastly different from your fingers, the way it’s thick and solid and pushes into you deeper than anything else you’ve tried, no matter how hard you tried. You moan out something that doesn’t quite sound pleasured and your fingernails slide down his back. Atsushi hisses and his hips jump just a little. “Ah, sorry!” you breathe out at him, brows knitting together.
He closes his eyes and smiled, looking pained. “No, do that all you like, please.” You realize he’s not pained, just trying to acclimate to you as much as you are to him. “Ahh, Todomatsu, fuck.” It’s the first time you’ve heard him swear, and it sends a thrum straight to your cock. You focus on relaxing your lower body, moving your legs slightly to bend up, open yourself up more as the stretch becomes more normal for you.
You move back on him slightly, experimentally, and like what you feel. You both let out a low, synchronous moan at the motion, and Atsushi presses kisses into your neck. “Can I go?” he purrs in your ear.
“Yes,” you say, your voice all air. He pulls back from you, making you feel the slide of his cock as it moves out of your body, then everything is just a sensation when he quickly pushes back in—smooth and hot, pressure making you tight. You wail and rake your nails down his back again, this time more involuntary—you have to pull him to you, get more of this, whatever it is. The rhythm he establishes is practiced and easy, just a simple thing, but you’re quickly losing yourself in the motion. You rock back on him, using his body as a point to rut against with your cock sandwiched between the two of you. He drops his head to your neck and kisses it again as he fucks into you hard and deep and slow, and you can’t keep your voice down. You hope he doesn’t have neighbors he cares about offending.
You’re plagued again by thoughts of your brother, a brief flash of an image of what it would feel like if it was him in Atsushi’s place. You’ve thought about it, wanted it for ages, but Karamatsu would never take the next step. He was too afraid, and now he missed his chance. Atsushi is better than Karamatsu in every way—older, richer, more experienced, and not your brother.
“Todomatsu, Todomatsu,” Atsushi murmurs into your neck, hips rutting against yours, cock slipping easily in and out of your twitching hole, bringing you back into the moment.
You can barely make out a reply. “Atsushi-sa—ahh! Oh, oh god, Atsushi!” You’re making a mess of his back—you can feel the heat rising off it as your nails scratch him up, your palms sliding sweat-slicked over his skin—but it only seems to make him fuck you harder, and that’s exactly what you want. You’re surprised you haven’t come yet, but it’s almost as if it’s too much of too many new, overwhelming feelings for your body to process; it’ll take some time to catch up. But the way this is going, that may be soon. You’re rocking together on the bed, slamming the frame into the wall as your body seems to sink deeper and deeper into Atsushi’s mattress. Your legs twitch with the simple effort of keeping them in this easy position he’s set you into. It’s hard to move any part of you but your hands and your neck as you thrash it around. You’re glad he seems fit enough to fuck you without slowing the pace, because you don’t think you could be satisfied with less than what he’s giving you right now.
You hear muffled moans into your shoulder as Atsushi suffers under the same overwhelming pleasure as you. You can feel the heat and the twitches of his cock inside you, and you’re brave enough to hope there’ll be a time when he’ll fuck you bare so you can feel him leaking in you, feel him fill you with more than just his cock, but his release as well. You’re getting impossibly close to that point yourself, if your reckless moaning is anything to go by. You hazily decide it’s okay now, you’ll let yourself stop holding back. You feel his cock pounding into you, feel his heat covering you as his body presses against yours, feel his warm breath on your neck, and let go. You feel slickness between your stomachs as your ass spasms around his dick, increasing the pressure for both of you to get you through your orgasm and apparently push him to his as well. He slams into you with more force than before for a few almost painful moments, but your body hasn’t quite gotten through your own push yet, so it just makes you dig your nails deep into the flesh of his back, leaving marks deep enough to bleed, you’re sure. Or you would be if you had the presence of mind to notice.
You both lie still for a moment, panting, before Atsushi sluggishly moves off you. He carefully tugs off the condom and knots it, wadding it up in a tissue from the nightstand as he grabs a few more to sponge you both off. You’re lying prone on the bed, totally unable to move, feeling raw in the places the tissue scratches your skin, but grateful you won’t have to do it yourself later.
Atsushi sidles up next to you and pulls you against him, pressing his face into your shoulder above the bruise he left. You’re beginning to recover, slowly, though you’re still a bit struck that you actually had sex—amazing, mind-blowing sex—for the first time, with him, after an evening that would never have foretold that such a thing would happen. You dare to let yourself move your hand over his, squeezing his fingers gently. You feel like you should say something, but you don’t know what.
Atsushi solves that for you. “Todomatsu, will you stay here tonight?” His voice is soft and low in your ear.
Oh, right. That. If you stay out, your brothers will have a fit. However, it’s already impossibly late, you’re sure, and you’re feeling very tired. And besides, you might like to bask in this afterglow a little longer. “Yeah,” you say quietly.
He kisses your shoulder and starts tugging at the hem of the covers around your shoulders. “Get in, then.” With a little maneuvering of your spent bodies, you manage to wiggle them underneath the bedding, and soon you are wrapped in heat and comfort, being lured into a deep sleep.