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“Showtime, big guy!” Keigo chirps, hopping to his feet as the buzzer to his apartment sounds. “You ready?”
Enji, meanwhile, sits awkwardly at the end of the bed in his underwear, trying not to jitter his leg out of nervous habit. “Mm.”
Keigo must notice something off in his expression that makes him slow down a moment and return to Enji’s side. He slings a slender leg over Enji’s hips and settles into his lap. Enji leans back a little to let him. He weighs next to nothing, but somehow he holds Enji down. Grounds him. Those honey-gold eyes are a steady anchor for him. They keep him from floating away from himself.
“You trust me, right?”
That’s never been in question. He nods, Keigo’s soft hair brushing against his cheek. “Of course.”
That earns him a feather-light peck on his cheekbone. Enji bites his lip, reining in the urge to reach for Keigo’s hand. He is anxious; his therapist has finally badgered him into admitting it. He doesn’t do well with unknowns.
“You can always call red, remember,” Keigo murmurs. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I know that.” He might be pouting. Not that he’d admit it.
Keigo kisses him fully then, pressing his hips in against the crease of Enji’s bent thighs, sliding a hand into his hair and a tongue deep into his mouth. This, Enji’s gotten to know. He relaxes a little more, letting Keigo lick into his mouth until Enji is kissing back with a matched eagerness. He may chase Keigo’s lips when he pulls back. May. Keigo is looking at him fondly, cupping his jaw. “Then relax. Explore, baby. No kissing, though. That’s my only rule. That mouth of yours is mine.”
It’s easy enough to nod along; there’s a part of Enji that wants to do everything and anything Takami Keigo asks him to do. Things always end up being better when he follows his lead, even when he’s apprehensive. Like putting caramel syrup in his coffee, damn the calories; it does make it better. Sometimes Keigo really knows what’s best for him in the end. More than sometimes, if he’s honest.
He does trust him. With his life, with his secrets, with the feelings he’s just coming around to even being able to acknowledge. Bringing others into their bed is a massive leap for him, though, something that Keigo was so careful in offering to him, especially so early into their exploration of sex together. He’s still wrapping his mind around the idea that there’s more to intimacy than him just bending Keigo over and doing what comes naturally. He’s never had any complaints, per se, but the thought that there are untapped realms to sex, acts he’s never explored, scarcely even imagined, and that Keigo wants everything with him, not just the superficial simple comfortable things... Well. It’s overwhelming. It is, but over time Enji’s found that he does want what Keigo wants. He wants to give him everything he’s got and more. Wants to prove himself worthy of this beautiful young thing who, impossibly, knows his ugliest secrets and still thinks the world of him.
Even if that means pumping a squirt of water up his ass to get it ready for this… change of pace.
Even after that, though, no amount of preparation in the world can stop Enji from freezing up like a deer in headlights when Best Jeanist and his ex-wife walk into the room.
“Good evening, Hawks, Endeavor.” Jeanist takes his time striding lankily through the doorway, Rei Himura—formerly Todoroki—a half-step behind him wearing a long mink coat Enji bought her about twenty years back.
What.
“Hawks, what is this?!” he demands, far too loud in the quiet, and he’s too slow to stop the eruption of fire over his face. His brain is spinning wildly; is this some kind of setup, some twisted gotcha moment? Is Keigo fucking with him? Why would he?! He’s… oh, he might be hyperventilating.
Keigo is unfazed. Doesn’t even flinch from the flames as Enji splutters. He smiles, petting over his chest. “Breathe, baby. It’s alright. You’re alright. Colour.”
“Yellow,” he chokes.
Across the room Rei freezes for a moment, looking over at Tsunagu for reassurance. Enji can see him put a hand on the small of her back and instantly she relaxes, pursing her lips in a soft sigh.
Keigo is still right there for Enji, distracting him back to calmness with the light scratches of his talons against his scalp. It shouldn’t work as well as it does, but that’s what Keigo does to him.
“I’ll admit I didn’t specify who was coming,” Keigo murmurs, slowing things down but forging forward gently. “But I thought this might be good for you. I figured it’d surprise you, but you never know, baby, maybe it’ll actually help you relax.”
The flames die down, slow and uncertain. Enji frowns a little. How are the woman he hurt so badly and the colleague he didn’t even know she’d gotten together with meant to help him ‘relax’ in bed—whatever that’s supposed to mean? Sometimes he forgets that he has spent time with Rei since the day she hurt Shouto, and several times by now. That she’s been back in his life through the nightmare with Touya, and through the divorce proceedings a few months back. He didn’t think he’d see her again after their marriage ended, but instead she’s here, in the room he and Keigo share when he’s down in Fukuoka, seemingly fine with the idea of getting into bed with him again.
He’s not sure what to make of that.
“Hello, Enji,” Rei says. He starts, but gives her his full attention, drawn in by the surprising strength and certainty in her voice. She’s looking right back at him. Her winter-storm eyes are focused and intent. “Do you really think I’d be here if I didn’t want to be? After all these years?”
He doesn’t have a good answer for that. She isn’t shrinking, she’s not averting her eyes, she’s standing tall and he feels like he’s half his usual height.
She shrugs out of her mink coat. Enji stares at her stupidly, seeing that she’s wearing a beautiful lingerie set in dark grey lace, an expensive white gold choker without any obvious clasp sitting at her throat, studded with diamonds. There’s a ring in the very centre, small and delicate, glinting in the light, and even being incredibly new to all this, Enji sees it for what it is. A claim. Ownership, freely given.
He should be furious, shouldn’t he?
Not… whatever else he’s feeling as he stares at her.
Keigo skims a taloned hand across Enji’s bare chest. “Very nice, Tsunagu. She’s perfect. See that collar, babe? Maybe you’ll earn one of your own someday.” That sends a shiver—fear? Yearning? Both?—down Enji’s spine as Tsunagu and Rei approach.
A very faint buzzing sound becomes audible. He can see a slim black device held to Rei’s inner thigh by a garter belt, a thin cord snaking his way up and into her panties, where he can already see the silk darkening with moisture.
He takes Rei in as she nears the bed—a bed in which he used to cheat on her with Keigo before the divorce was finalized. Tsunagu’s hand sits confidently at the small of her back, natural like it belongs there. Her abdomen isn’t quite as taut as it once was; it has the softness below the navel that a mother several times over tends to acquire, and accordingly her chest is fuller and heavier than it was when they were young, filling the cups of her bra to a scandalous degree. Her nipples are rock hard and her breathing is quicker than its baseline—a cadence Enji knows well, instinctively, from all his years with her. Tsunagu’s long fingers find their place with striking familiarity along the plane of her hip, rounded and gently decorated with fine, faded stretch marks like the faintest touch of frost. She leans into his space, close, and more comfortable than Enji thinks he’s ever seen her.
Is he jealous? Not exactly. Not quite. Just painfully aware of how badly he’s failed an exquisite woman, yet again.
“She’s my ex-wife,” Enji blusters hoarsely. He should be furious, a part of him howls, but, well… Fuck. They look good together, he can’t deny that. They work.
“Emphasis on the ‘ex,’” Jeanist says pointedly, shrugging off his denim jacket with practiced ease.
“And she can speak for herself,” Rei follows. “Tsunagu and I have been getting to know one another for quite a few months now, Enji. As you have with Hawks, who so kindly reached out to us.”
Enji blinks. Blinks again. He’s not sure what to think. He kind of wants to throttle Keigo, but a bigger part of him, a part he’s still not sure how to handle, really wants to see where this will go.
Keigo looks at him, serious, sensing his unease. “Colour, love.”
“...” Enji swallows. Swallows again. He can choose it or reject it. If he chooses it, though—what will that say about him?
They’re all looking at him expectantly.
Rei and Jeanist must’ve come all the way from Tokyo.
Keigo wants this for him.
He just said he trusts Keigo.
He bites his lip. “Green.”
Keigo grins down at him, cupping his jaw gently. “There you go, baby. Just remember, I kiss you. I tell you what to do with your mouth. Relax and just let me lead you. I know you'll like it.”
Enji swallows, unsure about his role in Rei’s presence, in Tsunagu’s. There’s only one acceptable answer, though, and, he thinks, perhaps this is Keigo staking his claim, wrapping a command like a collar around his throat. “Yessir,” he whispers. Keigo’s answering smile, sharp and keen, does something to him, turns his bones to liquid, just a little.
“Then it’s settled,” Jeanist murmurs.
Enji’s nervous still; he’s never thought of—let alone done—anything like this before. His throat is tight and dry and he keeps swallowing thickly. His eyes dart around to the three of them, utterly unsure of where to look, much less what to do. All three of them are intent, staring him down, Keigo with that keen gleam in his eyes, Rei softer, more calculating, and Jeanist—Tsunagu—with his signature arch aloofness.
He’s the oldest, the largest, and the strongest one in the room by a fair measure.
...He feels very small.
“You’ll enjoy this. You just need to let us take care of you,” Keigo pipes up again, massaging the tense muscles of his neck.
“I’m not sure if I’m—” He’s balking, watching their two guests around the tan column of his little bird’s neck, but he’s not exactly sure why. It’s a frightening thought, being vulnerable like this, for the first time, in the midst of the three people who’ve seen him at his absolute worst.
Jeanist tilts his head curiously. Rei watches him. Keigo chuckles. “See, here’s the thing, love. I don’t think you like taking the lead as much as you think you do. Thought maybe I need a little help to ease you into something a bit more fitting.”
More ‘fitting’?! Enji’s brow furrows a little, but Keigo’s thumb is there, smoothing the tightly bunched muscles back into a neutral plane. Maybe these are the exact right people to take him through it.
Hawks kisses his temple, murmuring close to his ear. “Let’s see where things go, Enji. You can tap out anytime.”
His competitive streak flares up at that suggestion. Tap out? Unlikely.
Keigo hums indulgently, patting his cheek. Oh. He may have said that bit out loud.
Keigo climbs off him and scoots back up the bed a bit. “Come up here and lay back, big guy. I’ve got you. We’ve got you tonight.”
Enji’s job is to obey. He understands that much by now. He takes a deep breath, one that may have been expelled with a jet of steam, and makes his way up the bed to his bird’s skinny lap to lay his head down. He lies on his back and lets Keigo gently comb the hair back from his forehead, smiling down at him like it’s just them there.
It isn’t; Rei and Tsunagu undress a little more at the foot of the bed, a silent communication passing between them at a glance.
“Take off your underwear, Enji,” Keigo murmurs. It isn’t a request. Enji flushes, but lifts his hips obediently and shimmies his boxer briefs down. He feels incredibly exposed as he kicks them off one ankle. Tsunagu watches the fabric fall off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Rei’s glance crawls up Enji’s thigh, a nearly tangible thing. He can feel it on his skin, and goosebumps rise along its path.
“What do you think of his cock, Kitten?” Enji jerks as Tsunagu strokes the angle of Rei’s jaw. She leans into his touch like a cat.
“It’s familiar,” Rei replies matter-of-factly. She whispers to Tsunagu conspiratorily, “I’d always wondered how he tasted…” It’s an admission and Enji feels a rush of heat surge to his face. It takes everything in his power not to combust. She—
—They’d really never tried much of anything in bed, really.
“Then try him,” Tsunagu tells her in his low, smooth voice. “Be a good girl and show us what you’ve learned.”
At first Enji thinks it’s a trick of the light, but when he looks harder he sees the fabric of her fine silk lingerie shift a little, as if it’s alive, and then tighten, squeezing into her skin a little more. Rei makes a noise he’s never heard before. Her expression is ethereal, like she’s being caressed by something sublime. “Okay,” she hums, flashing Enji a sly little smile. She kneels on the bed and crawls forward until she’s crouched between his parted thighs.
Enji probably looks so stupid; his eyes feel like they’re bugging out of his head. Winter-white hair spills over Rei’s pale shoulder. She looks straight at him, hungry, and for the first time in his life he feels like prey.
It’s more exhilarating than he would’ve thought.
“A quarter century and no head?” Keigo gasps dramatically, talons scraping along Enji’s scalp again and triggering a second wave of goosebumps along his skin. “No wonder things went stale. You never went down on this beauty of a MILF either? Fuck, man. Reparations are in order.”
There’s the expected surge of shame that brings heat to his cheeks, the threat of ignition dancing over the surface of his skin. Instead, Enji tips his head back and looks up at Hawks. He’s smirking, but his golden eyes are gentle. Reassuring. He lets himself relax a fraction more.
“Hello again,” Rei hums, speaking to Enji’s cock, rather than Enji himself. She wraps a confident hand around it and gives him a pump. Her grip’s stronger than before, Enji thinks a bit deliriously. It’s more sure. He starts to respond quite readily. Her hand’s as cool as ever, tempering the heat of him and making his dick jerk in her hold. He tenses so hard he nearly pulls something as her tongue flicks daintily over his cockhead.
Tsunagu gets onto the bed behind her, long fingers dancing over her silk-clad bottom, wandering down to the control strapped to her garter. “How does he taste, kitten?”
Rei makes a considering noise, and Enji hides his face against Hawks’ thigh, flushing. “Hmm,” she muses. “Smoky. Strong.”
Tsunagu’s wrist turns. The vibrating sound gets louder, and Rei whines against his cock, bobbing on it deeper; the cold of her tongue contrasting with the muted warmth of her throat, temperature flickering hot-cold-hot-cold-hot as she moves.
Why hadn’t they done this before? Why had they never bothered to try?
He isn’t going to last, Enji thinks a bit hysterically. He’s got great stamina usually, but he feels the edge approaching on the horizon like a damned tsunami. Rei’s never, never done this to him before, and it’s so good he doesn’t quite know what to think. His hips start rocking of their own accord, and Enji fears for a moment that he might hurt her, but she moves with it easily, with a finesse she never showed him in all the years they’d been together. He wonders how much Tsunagu’s taught her. How much better he’s made things for her. He’s pondering this while he feels the edge approach, his hips stuttering. Keigo’s cock flexes against the side of his cheek and he takes his eyes off Rei for a moment to nuzzle at it, burying any overwhelmed feelings in the scent of his little bird’s not-so-humble organ, the feeling of his quickstep pulse flickering through the hard tissue.
Rei’s too good at this; Enji’s legs tense, hard, and his cock flexes, once, twice—then nothing, nothing as he bucks up for a thwarted finish. He makes a confused noise, sitting up a little.
“Ah-ah,” Rei laughs lightly. “Not yet, Enji. Patience.”
Tsunagu chuckles.
“Wh—?” Enji can feel something tighten around the root of his sack, and another at the base of his dick. The cool press of her slim, wet fingers traces down behind his nuts now. He looks wildly up at Keigo for reassurance, and he gets a sharp, raptor-keen grin back.
“When we get done with you, you’ll come harder than you ever have in your life, love, I promise,” Hawks hums, sounding like he’s having the time of his life. “As long as you’re a good boy for us.”
Good, Enji thinks wildly—wryly. Is that even possible? Can he manage that? He’s been called so many things in his life, but good is not one of them. Never has been.
“It’s just a little insurance so that you last that long,” Rei adds with a little smirk. Her cool mouth envelops him again, countering the rising heat of his body to the point where her mouth has licks of steam curling up from the corners. There’s a frustrating, maddening pressure building in his nuts now, unable to let him attain the pleasure hanging just out of reach.
There’s a cold, cold press against his asshole, but he can’t buck away from it, can’t shift, not only because Rei has his cock at the back of her throat, but also because the sheets are binding his ankles with impressive force. He nearly ignites out of reflex before he remembers who else is in the room with them.
“Stay still,” Tsunagu murmurs.
Enji freezes. Obeys without a second thought.
Keigo’s fingers trace down Enji’s throat, encouraging him to relax back into his lap. After a moment, he manages to, even though Rei’s probing is getting a bit more insistent, and the inevitability of things settles onto him, brings with it a sense of sudden calm. Enji’s corded muscles finally go lax. He exhales. And Rei gets a finger inside him.
He isn’t sure what he expected, exactly. Pain? Discomfort? Embarrassment?
What he gets isn’t that—not at all.
Enji makes a noise he didn’t think he was capable of making; a high, soft, shivering moan. His cock flexes in Rei’s mouth as she curls that slender finger against his prostate. His toes curl in kind. He can feel her smile a little, despite her lips being so stretched around him. She pulls back with an audible slurp.
“Goodness, Enji,” she murmurs, her voice hoarse from his cock. Her fingertip presses, circles, and Enji’s jaw shivers as another moan rises. “So sensitive.”
Keigo pipes up then, speaking over the two of them and directly to Jeanist. “Can you believe I haven’t fucked this work of art yet?”
“Don’t know how you stand it,” Tsunagu murmurs, grinding his cock against the cleft of Rei’s ass. Enji’s eyes track the peek of his slick head at the top of his ex-wife’s crack as it appears and disappears with each thrust.
“He can take more,” Rei hums. “I want to see him do it.”
He isn’t sure if he can take more at all; he’s paralyzed by how overwhelming it all is, how much—but being lost in his head costs him the moment’s pause it would’ve taken him to realize that Rei’s added another finger—is adding it, and Enji stiffens up in alarm.
“Bear down a little, baby. It’ll help,” Keigo whispers secretively.
“Wait, I—?”
“Enji.” His bird’s so patient. So patient with him.
You prepared for this. Let it happen. “...Green…” he mumbles without even being asked, bearing down as Hawks instructed. Something gives, and Rei probes deeper, slides more lube onto and into him until he’s stretched out wide. She abandons his cock entirely, and it slaps against his belly, the lasso-ring-whatever tugging his balls up with it maddeningly. A third finger joins the two, probing and stretching, and Enji’s helplessly bound, ankles fixed by fibres, ass speared wide by his ex-wife.
“Good work, Kitten,” Tsunagu declares. “Come here to me.”
Rei’s breath hitches, and she does as she’s told, pulling her fingers free of Enji and discreetly wiping them on the sheets. Enji’s hole twitches after her, and it stuns him just how empty he feels now.
She turns obediently toward a man ten years her junior, her mouth immediately claimed in a deep, heated kiss. Tsunagu hums thoughtfully, all the while releasing Enji’s legs from their bindings. “Ah yes, I can taste the smoke. Like a campfire, almost.”
“Makes me hungry for s’mores,” Keigo pipes up, gently shifting out from under Enji, cradling his head carefully back onto the mattress while Enji’s left panting like a lathered horse, tightrope walking on the edge of bliss, uncertain of what’s coming next. “My turn.”
Tsunagu’s slim finger hooks around the O-ring of Rei’s collar, and he leads her further up the bed while Hawks slips between Enji’s legs.
“Lift your hips,” he instructs, and Enji’s doing it before the thought’s done processing in his overheated brain. He expects a pillow, a bolster, something of the sort, but he should really know better by now. Instead, long, strong crimson feathers support him, raise his lower back and hold his legs up as if he’s weightless. It’s a foreign feeling for such a large man, but just now it feels… really good. Like a comfort.
Rei giggles. “That’s a good look for you, Enji.” He feels himself flush deeply at that. At Jeanist’s insistence, she climbs right over Enji, breasts hanging heavy, until her hips are parked directly overhead.
“Hey there, Rei,” Keigo drawls. His partner’s hand—big for his smallish body—cups Rei’s cheek for a moment. Enji can just about see the underside of her smirk as she tilts her head and takes two of Keigo’s fingers into her mouth.
“That’s it,” Keigo murmurs, and his eyes glint like molten gold in the dim light. “I’m about to make your seconds so sloppy, Mama.”
That gets Rei moaning.
And just like that her panties fall apart—unravel right above Enji like cotton candy on a rainy day. He feels Keigo’s thicker wet fingers breach his hole as the bed dips a little more behind his head—Tsunagu easing himself in behind Rei to tease the vibrating bullet out from inside her.
When they weren’t trying for children they barely used to touch each other. It stuns Enji that he knows the precise scent of her cunt by memory, that he can tell how excited she is. How excited Jeanist makes her.
“Endeavor. Do you see this beauty?” Tsunagu asks, stroking Rei’s soaked folds just inches over Enji’s face. His fingers slip through the neat wet patch of white hair at the apex of her, hair Enji knows the texture of from memory, then they spread her right before his eyes.
Oh, Enji sees her. Like he never has before.
A sharp swat on his backside has him whining with surprise.
“He asked you a question, Enji, don’t be rude,” Keigo says firmly.
“Yes,” Enji replies instantly, voice gone hoarse. “Yessir.”
“There we go. Good boy,” Keigo hums, nipping at his calf.
“I’m going to claim her now,” Jeanist declares, “Please her the way she likes. You’re welcome to watch—I think you’ve got an enviable view.”
Enji wonders, giddy with a sudden cold spike of anxiety, how much Rei has told Tsunagu about their marriage. By now he’s probably heard everything there is to hear. By now he’s probably measured Enji’s worth and found him extremely wanting.
Keigo gives Enji’s cock a few pumps and then starts stuffing his dick into him, derailing that train of thought entirely. Enji finds himself clenching rhythmically around the intrusion, chasing the edge of something that promises more. His own thwarted cock throbs pitifully, but he’s begun to enjoy even that.
And he doesn’t care what that says about him for once. Not at all.
Rei’s hair puddles against his navel and a little light filters back in for Enji as Tsunagu lifts her hips high and drills into her, raw, in one easy stroke. He feels Rei’s pleasured yowl as it rattles through his chest, sees the tension jump into her thighs on either side of his head.
She sounds so good, breathy, her head falling a little and her eyes screwing shut. Enji can see Jeanist’s fingers gripping her securely at the waist, hauling her back on his cock.
The cunt that bore Enji his four children is getting fucked inches from his face, and it… might be one of the hottest things he’s ever witnessed. Tsunagu’s carefully groomed nuts are swinging like a dual pendulum, slapping against Rei’s mound, a hypnotic rhythm that Hawks is mimicking masterfully, and that long, slim shaft is darting deftly into Rei’s pussy. Small droplets strike Enji’s brow, his cheek, and he’s got no clue if it’s sweat, his ex-wife’s slick, or his co-worker’s precum, but somehow he’s not disgusted by it.
He feels used, yes, but he also feels safe, head cradled by Rei’s knees, Keigo’s greedy hands and steady feathers on his legs, the sheets shifting maddeningly beneath him as if they’re alive.
Keigo picks up the pace suddenly, deadly accurate, and Enji’s arching, fisting the sheets until they sizzle, twitching through something that feels like an orgasm, though with nothing to show for it but the paroxysmal jerk of his dick and a shivering groan. It’s intense enough to be approaching painful, and the lack of release keeps him hard right through the spasm of it.
He thinks Rei kisses his navel at one point.
Something must pass between Keigo and Tsunagu silently, because suddenly the low light floods back over Enji in full and Rei’s flushed body is rolled onto her back next to him, one breast fallen free of her bra-cup, nipple peaked and quivering with the motion.
Enji barely knows where to look. Just to his right Rei’s groaning low in her throat as Tsunagu growls and fairly yanks her back onto his cock.
Keigo’s wings flare to their full span, stretching out well past the edges of the bed on either side, and his sharp grin turns a little loose, a little wild, as he fucks into Enji at an increasingly punishing pace. He’s beautiful. Fierce. Absolutely perfect.
Enji glances at the couple beside them. There’s pleasure—bliss—on Rei’s face, the eyes-rolling-back kind, the likes of which Enji should be embarrassed to realize he’s never seen before, not in twenty-five years of tempestuous marriage. He should feel guilty for having plenty of carnal knowledge of this woman, but still being uncertain now if he’s ever made her this content, if he’d ever even pleased her enough to let her come.
He isn’t, though. He’s… he’s happy for her, he thinks hazily, bucking with sudden tension as Keigo slams into what must be his prostate, the way it has him locking up and mewling.
Enji half gasps-half groans—for a moment wondering what his divorce attorney would say if she were to see them now.
He and Rei are just left looking at one another with breathless, fond, almost-exasperated grins as it finally strikes Enji why, children and his own foolishness aside, they never quite worked out. They’d been performing the roles that were scripted for them, never being their truest selves. But that’s all changed now; Rei’s laughing deliciously as Tsunagu ruts into her, her breath hitching just so when he strikes her deep. Her hair’s a silvery puddle on the sheets, long strands sticking to her wet, slack lips.
Enji’s no better himself as Hawks works into him with short shallow thrusts, rubbing relentlessly against his prostate until Enji’s half convinced he could flex and his cock might break free of its tortuous confines on its own power.
It’s so much—but he feels safe through it, like these three want to see him come undone, and his only job is to do just that.
“Mmmnh, gh—god, K-Keigo, I can’t—”
He isn’t even quite sure what he’s saying, but Rei reaches her arm over messily, with momentum from Jeanist’s hard fucking, to grab at his hair, tug on the roots strongly enough that he feels it all the way down in his tense, thwarted balls. “You can, Enji. Be good for us, hm? You told me you’d be better from now on, so prove it. Prove it to me.”
It’s like his mind whites out at that—tunnel vision, void of thoughts, floating but also laser-focused. He can be good here, it’s as easy as taking it, as easy as letting Keigo claim him in front of his ex-wife and her new partner, who’s just as intent on claiming her and ensuring that Enji watches him do it. It’s depraved. It makes his dick kick against nothing. He lets his legs fall open a little wider, the feathers going with his movement easily while keeping him supported, and gives himself over to Keigo entirely.
He calls his name. All their names. He begs.
“There we go,” Keigo says, his grip tightening a little as he ruts in deep, fucks him with all the energy of a twenty-three year old on a mission. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”
Rei shrieks.
Tsunagu groans, shuddering over her, into her.
Enji’s distracted by their sounds, so distracted he misses the tiny feather loosening the lasso around his parts until a second orgasm hits him harder than the High-End Nomu ever could, punching the air from his lungs and wringing his entire life out through his cock. He shoots in spurts dictated by his beautiful bird’s thrusts, shoots up onto his own neck and jaw, one wild arc getting Keigo right across his panting mouth. That seems to do it for Keigo, because now he’s practically folding Enji in half, feathers forcing his body down as he leans over him and floods Enji’s hole full.
Enji blacks out. Probably.
There’s a lost few minutes where he’s entirely out of his head, insensate and unaware.
“Eyes on me, big man, c’mon,” Keigo is there, kissing the salt and drool from his shivering lips. Even in the aftermath, an order’s an order, and Enji’s blurry vision finally finds and focuses on that beautiful young face and those keen golden eyes. Things slide back into place, piece by sluggish piece. He realizes his cheek is pillowed on Rei’s breast, that Tsunagu’s hand is on his hip, the long slender arm wrapped right over Rei to include him. And Keigo, his north star, his biggest support, is a light warmth lying obliquely over him, a slim grip around his chest, soft breath on his neck and the softest, feather-light kisses against his skin.
He’s okay. He isn’t alone. They actually want to be here with him.
He hopes he was good. For once in his miserable goddamned life he hopes someone here has found him worthy.
He might be crying. He isn’t sure.
The comedown is so, so heavy but they all pet him through it. There’s a new blanket over them, Enji realizes blearily. One he doesn’t recognize. Jeanist is quick.
“This one’s going to need a lot of aftercare,” Enji catches Tsunagu murmuring to Keigo, who hums in agreement. Are they referencing him..? There’s no affront—he couldn’t muster it right now at all anyway, but he does wonder what they mean. Even sweaty and worn out, Rei smells nice, familiar. Wisteria and gardenias, he thinks. Keigo’s still inside him, sliding out only sluggishly as he goes soft, forcing Enji to feel every millimeter of him as he leaves.
Enji misses him already, and it’s irrational. So is the burn of tears still gathering in his eyes.
They kiss him, one after the other, Rei on his eyelids, Tsunagu on his scarred cheek, Keigo lingering on his lips, and they tell him that he’s done so well. How proud they are of him. It's an overwhelming feeling of security, a safety he's never quite known.
He and Rei doze together for a little while as their younger consorts bring them both some water, fruit, and a little chocolate, but soon enough the other couple has to take their leave.
Tsunagu murmurs something to Rei, and even through the haze dragging him down into the mattress, Enji can see how her expression brightens, a flash of excitement like moonlight on snow. “Let’s do this again sometime, Enji,” she offers. Tsunagu slips the mink coat around her shoulders, and meticulously straightens the Bvlgari collar at her throat. “If Hawks thinks you’ve earned it.”
“My Number One always delivers,” Keigo says with endearing confidence. A great red wing, dark crimson in the dim light, wraps around Enji, shielding him from view as Best Jeanist’s long stride and the click of Rei’s heels fade away.