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Dokuga is carrying the garbage bags out to the dumpster when Tetsujo follows him into the alleyway and pushes him up against the wall to kiss him. He drops the trash and puts his arms around his back automatically, because they’ve been doing this long enough now that he doesn’t even need to think. His head lolls to the side and Tetsujo puts his lips to his neck.
“Help me throw these out,” Dokuga says once Tetsujo pulls away. Tetsujo picks up one of the bags and Dokuga takes the other; they throw them into the dumpster and the lid clangs shut. “Stop kissing me at work.”
“I can’t help it,” Tetsujo pouts. “I could never kiss you before.”
Dokuga rolls his eyes. It’s not exactly kissing, because if Dokuga puts his mouth on Tetsujo he’ll kill him. He touches his fingers to the spot where Tetsujo’s lips just were and sighs. They’ve only been together for a couple of months, and if they keep doing this then they’re going to get caught.
He supposes that it doesn’t really matter if they do get caught. Nobody would care. The only reaction they might get is annoyance from Nikaido that they’re wasting time at work, but that’s about it. He’s still not ready for everyone to know about the two of them. He's not ready to risk the question that might come into their heads: Is it because you’re the only ones left?
Because it’s not. Not really. He doesn’t want people thinking that he’s only clinging to Tetsujo because everyone else has died. He doesn’t want them thinking that he only turned to Tetsujo when he lost the boss.
“Come on,” Tetsujo holds the back door of the restaurant open for him and he slips back inside, washing his hands before he heads back out to clear tables.
Nikaido hums tunelessly as she cooks and Kaiman bobs his head along with her. The bell above the door jingles when it opens and Kasukabe comes in with Jonson at his heels, waving to them over the counter.
“Hey, Professor!” Kaiman grins at them.
“Sit down,” Nikaido says, “I’ll get you two some lunch.”
Kasukabe comes to the restaurant frequently but irregularly, and he always has some questions for them depending on what area of research he’s fixated with at the time; he’s usually thinking about devils and wants to ask Nikaido questions about the time when she was one. Sometimes he’s curious as to whether or not Kaiman technically counts as a sorcerer – something Kaiman denies vehemently. He’s asked Tetsujo before if he can cut him open to see if he can make him produce smoke like he did with Shin, which Tetsujo shot down immediately, telling him that he’s gotten this far in life without smoke and he doesn’t need it now. Certainly not when they’re living in Hole. There was a brief period of time when he was utterly preoccupied with Dokuga’s spit, trying and failing to find an antidote for the poison. Dokuga’s a little disappointed that that didn’t work out.
He's mildly curious as to what Kasukabe’s up to today; he has a couple of shopping bags on the floor by his feet and Dokuga peers into them when he sets the food down for him and Jonson. He spots a pair of sunglasses in one of the bags.
“Dokuga,” Kasukabe grins at him, plucking a gyoza from the plate with his chopsticks. “Ever been on vacation?”
“Nope.”
“You’re going on vacation?” Kaiman perks up. “Where to?”
“Haru’s house!”
“That’s—” Kaiman blinks at him. “That’s not a vacation. She’s your wife. You always go to her house.”
“Do you all want to come?” He gestures at the shopping bags. “She has a pool, and it’s sunny. Everyone’s invited!”
“Seriously?” Tetsujo leans over the counter. “All of us?”
“Sure, why not?” Kasukabe takes another bite of his food; Jonson’s already cleared his plate. Dokuga picks it up and wrinkles his nose in disgust. He sprays the restaurant for roaches on a regular basis, but Jonson is the exception. “Haru won’t mind. We can go from my house tomorrow morning if you want to come.”
“I need a vacation!” Nikaido announces, bringing her knife down hard on her chopping board. “We’ll go. Right, Kaiman?”
“Sure.”
“What about you two?” Kasukabe says to Dokuga.
Dokuga’s eyes flick to Tetsujo’s and he grins at him. “Sure,” he says. “We’ll go.”
*
“I can’t believe we get to go on vacation,” says Tetsujo, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh.
“It’s not really a vacation,” Dokuga says. “It’s his wife’s house.”
“She has a pool.” Tetsujo rolls onto his side and beckons Dokuga over.
First, he makes sure that the door’s locked. Their apartment is a tiny shithole in a neighbourhood full of tiny shitholes, and he doesn’t trust that they’re not about to get robbed at any second. He locks the door, slides the bolt over, and puts on the chain. Tetsujo watches him do this; this is the exact thing he did when they came home that night two months ago after drinking for hours in the restaurant after closing. Then they’d staggered home, Dokuga had locked the door, and Tetsujo had clumsily tried to kiss him. Thankfully, he’d missed. Dokuga had panicked because he thought that Tetsujo was trying to kill himself and Tetsujo had hurriedly confessed his feelings for him and explained that he’d drunkenly forgotten about Dokuga’s poison. Dokuga’s relief that he hadn’t accidentally killed Tetsujo was what made him realise that he felt exactly the same way, and since then they’ve both been limiting their alcohol intake.
He kicks off his shoes and kneels on the bed, pushing Tetsujo down onto his back. Tetsujo grins as he swings a leg over him to straddle his lap and pulls his hoodie off, dropping it down onto the floor. His shirt follows and Tetsujo’s hands come up to take hold of his waist as he rolls his hips, feeling Tetsujo growing hard beneath him.
“I can’t wait to see you in swimming stuff tomorrow,” Tetsujo groans, hands sliding to Dokuga’s hips.
“I can’t swim,” says Dokuga. The closest he’s come to swimming is bathing in the enormous baths in En’s mansion. He leans forward and props himself up on an elbow so that he can get his trousers down and Tetsujo’s as well, lying on top of him and taking both of their cocks in one hand so he can rub them together.
They have not been taking their relationship slowly. That first night when they drunkenly confessed their feelings to one another was also the first night they had sex, embarrassed the next morning by their mutual desperation and clumsiness. Now they’re a bit more practised, at least, though thanks to Tetsujo pushing him up against the wall earlier Dokuga is no less desperate for it. He strokes them both quickly, grinding his hips as Tetsujo’s buck up against him, fingers digging into his skin.
“Fuck—” Tetsujo’s head falls back against the pillow.
Dokuga bites his lip and closes his eyes, quickening the movement of his hand and his hips until both of them finish messily on Tetsujo’s t-shirt.
“Uh,” Tetsujo eyes the mess with a sigh. “Should’ve taken that off.”
“Yeah,” Dokuga lowers himself onto him, sliding his arms under his back and resting his head in the crook of his neck. “Forgot about that.”
“I can’t swim either,” admits Tetsujo. “I guess we’ll just have to sunbathe.”
“Mhm.”
“I can rub oil on you.”
Dokuga lifts his head and raises his eyebrows. “Oil.”
“Yeah, oil,” he strokes a fingertip lightly down his spine and Dokuga shivers. “It helps you get a tan.”
“I don’t think I want to get a tan,” Dokuga says with a grimace.
“Sunscreen, then. So you don’t get a tan.” His finger moves back up. “Friends do that, right? Rub oil and sunscreen on each other?”
“Right,” Dokuga says. They agreed that first morning when they woke up together that they wanted to keep what had happened between themselves. Their friendships with Nikaido and Kaiman exist in an uneasy territory where they can’t really talk about their pasts – Dokuga doesn’t think he’d be capable of justifying to them everything that the Cross-Eyes did, and he doesn’t think that Nikaido and Kaiman would be able to justify everything that they did – and they can’t explain their relationship without bringing the past into it. So it’s easier to hide.
Or, it’s been easy so far.
“Don’t worry,” Tetsujo says. “Nobody’s going to find out.”
“No,” Dokuga says, and then he imagines Tetsujo sitting at the side of the pool in a pair of swimming trunks, sunglasses balanced in his wet hair and legs dangling in the water, and his face feels hot. “No,” he says again, more decisively. “They won’t.”
*
The weather is terrible the next morning, the sky awash with dark grey clouds and a chill in the air. This means nothing, however, since they’re crossing over to another world to visit a devil and the weather will be whatever Haru wants it to be. Warmth and sunshine, hopefully. Fire and brimstone, possibly. Dokuga pulls his hood up as they make their way through the cold to Kasukabe’s house and Tetsujo’s hands are buried deep in his pockets.
When they ring the bell at Kasukabe’s mansion he answers the door in shorts and an open shirt of white linen, totally unsuitable for the climate of Hole. He beckons them in and shuts the door behind them quickly before the heat can escape and ushers them to the kitchen, where Nikaido is busy packing food into a cooler and Kaiman is balancing a pair of sunglasses on his nose. They’re both in shorts as well.
“They don’t fit,” he grumbles when they wobble off his snout. “You two aren’t dressed for a vacation.”
“Haru will fix that,” Kasukabe says with a grin.
“Take these,” Kaiman hands the sunglasses to Tetsujo, plonking them down onto his head.
Tetsujo grins and adjusts them until they sit right on his hair and then smirks at Dokuga with an eyebrow raised, head tilted. Dokuga gives him a curt nod.
“We’ll go through first,” Kasukabe says, closing the cooler and hefting it into his arms with a wince. Nikaido takes it from him. “Vaux and Thirteen know where the door is if they want to come.”
Dokuga isn’t sure what to expect from Kasukabe’s door. He hadn’t thought it possible for anyone without smoke to create them – Dokuga had to use black powder when he helped the boss get to Hole – but Kasukabe’s nothing if not ambitious. He leads them through the winding halls of his mansion to a dark room full of bookshelves and loose papers and the door stands there like a corpse on display. It's bolted into a metal frame and made of flesh and bone, the flayed skin of dozens of faces stretched out and sewn together, long pieces of bone woven in as support struts. The handle is a tibia, bleached off-white and nailed into the flesh. Dokuga’s no stranger to blood and gore, but he can’t help but suppress a shudder of disgust at the sight of it.
“Pretty good, huh?” Kasukabe smiles sweetly, like any preteen showing off a creation they’re proud of.
“Gross,” Kaiman snorts. “This goes to Haru’s house?”
Kasukabe gives the handle a tug and the door swings open. Heat pours out from the other side and Dokuga squints at the sudden bright light streaming through. He blinks, eyes adjusting, and takes in the sight.
It’s like looking at a painting of a place that could only exist in his imagination. Even En’s mansion didn’t have anything like this. The pool draws Dokuga’s eye straight away, the water glittering turquoise in the noon light from the sun gleaming above. Lounge chairs are shaded by leafy green trees and colourful umbrellas. Lying on one of them is Haru, the long legs of her enormous devil form dangling off the edge.
They step through the door, Jonson skittering behind them, and Haru’s glowing eyes flick in their direction.
“HAZE!” She shouts, waving frantically and hopping to her feet. Hooves. Then she turns around and pops out of the back of the devil body.
“Haru!” Kasukabe jogs over to her and the rest of them take in the very odd sight of a grown woman in a bikini embracing a twelve-year-old. She steps back and glares at him, muttering something as Kasukabe shakes his head.
“He likes being a kid,” Kaiman leans over to mutter to Dokuga and Tetsujo. “She wants to change him back.”
“YOU!” Haru turns on them and Dokuga flinches. Her voice doesn’t match her appearance, the loud and booming voice of a devil echoing like thunder. “YOU AREN’T IN BEACHWEAR!”
Dokuga opens his mouth to defend them – they don’t have any money, and any money they do have is not going to be spent on clothes they can’t even wear most of the time – but before he can speak she points a finger at them and all of a sudden they’re dressed for the pool. Dokuga looks down at himself and sees a thin shirt like Kasukabe’s, dark swimming trunks, and flip-flops. Then his eyes go to Tetsujo and blood rushes to his face when he sees his trunks cut off at mid-thigh, his open shirt slipping off his shoulder. Tetsujo notices him looking and flips his sunglasses down from his head onto his nose and grins.
“DID YOU SEE MY ALMIGHTY DEVIL POWER?” Haru flings her arms into the air and laughs. “KNEEL BEFORE ME!”
“Uh,” Tetsujo blinks at her in confusion and Dokuga drops to his knees, grabbing Tetsujo by the back of the shirt to yank him down as well.
“I’M GONNA DIE!” Haru yelps, leaping back inside her devil body.
“Well,” Kasukabe chuckles as though all of this is normal, “make yourselves comfortable, everyone!”
*
Dokuga picks a chair in the shade of one of the palm trees and lies down on his front with his shirt off, resting his head on his folded arms and closing his eyes. It’s still warm even in the shade and he can feel himself dozing off, the sounds of the poolside lulling him to sleep. Nikaido and Kaiman are bickering – Kaiman had wanted to open the cooler of food immediately and she wouldn’t let him – and Kasukabe is talking to Haru in a very serious tone. Dokuga catches words like devil and magic so he thinks he’s probably using this as a research opportunity. Tetsujo is in the shallow end of the pool. Dokuga opens his eyes a crack and watches him splash about, testing out his swimming strokes where he can still touch the floor. He catches his eye and grins. Dokuga smiles back, shutting his eyes again and letting himself drift off to sleep.
“Dokuga.”
He opens his eyes slowly, blinking and letting himself adjust to the bright sunlight. Tetsujo is crouched in front of him, damp hair dripping down over his forehead.
“How long was I asleep for?” Dokuga pushes himself up onto his elbows and yawns. It doesn’t look like the sun has moved at all, but that could be Haru’s doing.
“Less than an hour,” Tetsujo says.
“Why’d you wake me?” He rolls onto his side and stretches an arm, brushing Tetsujo’s shoulder.
“I didn’t want you to burn.” He brandishes a bottle of sunscreen and grins. “Can I?”
Dokuga nods and flops back down onto his front, closing his eyes again as Tetsujo comes around the side of the chair to swing a leg over him and sit down on the back of his thighs. He’s damp from the pool, wet trunks clinging to his skin and dripping down onto Dokuga’s legs. Dokuga cracks an eye open and glances over to the others, wondering vaguely if this kind of behaviour is suspicious. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s paying them the slightest bit of attention. Jonson is playing the part of waiter, skittering here and there with a tray of drinks. He brings a beer to Kaiman and a cocktail to Haru. There’s an open bottle of sunscreen lying near Nikaido’s bed and she’s fast asleep.
A cold spurt of sunscreen drips onto his back and he flinches.
“Sorry,” Tetsujo says, setting the bottle down, and then he touches his hands to Dokuga. He starts at the small of his back, rubbing his hands in wide circles and slowly making his way up his spine. Dokuga lets out an inadvertent moan when Tetsujo’s hands brush up against the back of his neck, sliding over his shoulders and digging his thumbs into the muscles.
“Shit,” he mutters. He didn’t mean to let that noise slip out of him.
“Nobody cares,” Tetsujo says. His hands rub cream into Dokuga’s biceps, fingertips ghosting over his scars before they slip back down over his ribs.
“I do,” says Dokuga with a sigh. Sometimes he thinks that if they made their relationship known then nobody would have any reaction whatsoever. It’s very likely. They might even be happy for them. But he can’t take the risk that they’ll look at the two of them and feel pity for the last Cross-Eyes, desperately holding onto any shred of what’s left. Or worse, that they’ll look at Dokuga and think are you only with him because you don’t have your boss anymore? He doesn’t think he’d be able to bear it if they thought that or worse – if they asked it and Tetsujo had to hear them ask it. “I care,” he adds.
“I know.” Tetsujo’s hands move to his waist and then back up his spine. He leans forward, hair dripping onto the back of Dokuga’s neck. He shudders. “I don’t think they’re going to notice anything.”
“Tetsujo,” he warns, eyes still closed. He feels Tetsujo’s lips press against the back of his head. “They’ll notice that.”
“Mm,” Tetsujo hums, sitting up and shifting his weight back onto Dokuga’s thighs. He reaches for the sunscreen again and drips more onto the small of Dokuga’s back, snickering when he winces at the sudden cold. This time his hands slip lower, fingers brushing his waistband. Dokuga bites the back of his hand. He’s getting hard. He’s getting hard, and they’re surrounded by people in broad daylight. Surrounded by people and a devil.
“Tetsujo,” he hisses.
Tetsujo ignores him, moving his hands to his hips and giving them a squeeze. Then he slides them back up his sides over his ribs and to his shoulders and when he leans forward, Dokuga can feel that he’s hard as well.
“We could go somewhere more private,” Tetsujo whispers in his ear.
Dokuga hasn’t even noticed anywhere remotely private here. There’s Haru’s house, he supposes, on the other side of the fence. Then there’s the bar where Jonson’s been getting their drinks. It looks like there’s a changing room attached to the side of it, over on the other side of the pool, a small structure with showers bolted to the outside wall. It doesn’t matter anyway; it’s not like he and Tetsujo can just walk on over there with hard-ons without it being painfully clear what they’re about to do.
“What do you say?” He can feel Tetsujo’s breath on his ear and shivers. He’s tempted. “I knew I’d like the sight of you in swimming stuff.”
He’s very tempted.
“We can’t,” he says through gritted teeth. “It’ll be so obvious.”
“Okay,” Tetsujo says, sitting up and rubbing his back again. Dokuga wonders how long he can rub sunscreen on him before it becomes obvious what they’re up to. Tetsujo doesn’t seem like he wants to stop any time soon. His fingers graze his waistband again and he shifts backwards, off his thighs so that he can dribble sunscreen onto them as well.
“You need to do my legs?” Dokuga lifts his head and glances over his shoulder. Tetsujo’s hair has dried now in the warmth, curling up a little just above his ears.
“You have amazing legs,” Tetsujo says, far too loudly, and slides his hands inside his shorts. “No one’s watching.”
Dokuga groans and bites his lip. Tetsujo’s fingers brush against his ass inside the baggy shorts and he wants him to fuck him so much that it’s almost painful. He gives an involuntary twitch of his hips and Tetsujo chuckles. He lifts his head to check on the others. Haru is out of her devil body again and Kasukabe is rubbing oil on her back. Nikaido is opening the cooler, pulling out a plastic container and handing it to Kaiman, shading her face with a hand. Jonson is behind the bar, clattering about with a cocktail shaker. Tetsujo squeezes his ass and shifts forward, pressing his hard cock against his thigh. Dokuga twitches again, his dick rubbing against the chair and he presses his forehead into the back of his hands. Tetsujo’s teasing him. He needs him to stop. He doesn’t want him to stop.
“Tetsujo—”
Then there’s a hissing noise, and Kasukabe’s door materialises, swinging open to reveal Vaux and Thirteen. Both of them are dressed for the weather and carrying plastic convenience store bags. Tetsujo pulls his hands out of Dokuga’s shorts as everyone lifts their heads and starts calling out greetings.
“HUMANS!” Haru bellows, hopping back into her devil body – which was lying on the chair beside her – and standing up to tower over them. “WHAT OFFERINGS HAVE YOU BROUGHT ME?”
“Hey, Haru,” says Vaux, lifting one of the bags. “Popsicles.”
“EXCELLENT.”
She gets first pick of the popsicles, grabbing several in each hand before settling back in her chair to eat them. Kaiman starts rooting around in the bag and Vaux claims a chair, beckoning Jonson over to bring him a drink. Thirteen lights up a cigarette and sits at the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water.
“Guys!” Nikaido calls over to them. “Want a popsicle?”
“I’ve been practising my catching,” Tetsujo says without hesitation. “Toss a couple over.”
“Give the shitty ones to Dokuga,” says Kaiman. “He can’t taste anything.”
Dokuga grunts in annoyance but he can’t argue with that. Nikaido disregards him and throws over two red ones, which Tetsujo catches easily.
“Have you been in the water yet, Dokuga?” asks Kasukabe, getting up to come and smoke with Thirteen.
“Can’t swim.”
“It’s pretty shallow,” Thirteen says. He kicks his foot and splashes some water over onto the paving, then narrows his eyes at Dokuga and Tetsujo. “Unless you’re still getting, uh, oiled up.”
“It’s sunscreen!” Dokuga snarls, pushing himself up onto his elbows and jostling Tetsujo off his legs. He turns around and shrugs at Tetsujo. “I’m getting in the water.”
“Okay,” Tetsujo grins. “I’ll, uh, lie down.”
Fortunately Kasukabe and Thirteen start talking about something or other and aren’t paying attention when he stands up, still half-hard, and awkwardly shuffles over to the water. He slips in before anyone can see and finds that the water only comes up to his chest here, so he can lean against the side and face Tetsujo.
“Pass me my popsicle?”
Tetsujo nods and tosses it to him, lying on his front and watching as Dokuga unwraps it and touches his tongue to it, dragging it up the length and putting the tip gently into his mouth. Tetsujo was teasing him on purpose, skimming his fingers over his skin and into his shorts. He was trying to get him riled up. Two can play at that game, Dokuga thinks. Kasukabe and Thirteen are sitting by the deep end of the pool and Dokuga has his back to them. The other sunbathers are preoccupied with food and drinks and sleep.
Dokuga keeps his eyes fixed on Tetsujo as he pushes the popsicle into his mouth, all the way in until it bumps against the back of his throat and pulls it back out slowly. It doesn’t taste so bad. A dribble of red juice drips down his chin and he wipes it on the back of his hand before it can drip into the water, licking it off. Tetsujo is eating his popsicle absentmindedly, staring at him with his eye wide as he replaces it in his mouth, tongue circling the tip of it and sliding it back in. He sucks the juice from it and swallows.
A sound off to the side distracts him for a second, but when he looks over it’s just Kaiman opening a beer that fizzes over the side of the can and splatters down on the floor. Nikaido laughs and hands him a paper napkin.
Tetsujo’s given up on his own popsicle. It’s melting down his hand and onto the paving. His lips are parted and he shifts awkwardly where he lies. Dokuga’s teasing is definitely working.
The problem is, it’s working on him as well. When he puts his lips around the popsicle he’s imagining that it’s Tetsujo’s cock he’s putting his lips around. He imagines that it’s Tetsujo’s cock gliding over his tongue and it’s Tetsujo’s cock brushing against the roof of his mouth. It’s not the juice of the popsicle but Tetsujo’s come dripping down the back of his throat. His hand has an iron grip on the edge of the pool in an attempt to stop himself from moaning.
“Fuck,” Tetsujo hisses, and drops his half-melted popsicle on the floor. Then he jumps to his feet, runs to the edge of the pool, and takes a flying leap into the water.
“Tetsujo!” Dokuga protests, turning away from the water and grimacing when it splashes over his head.
“You’re supposed to jump in the deep end!” Thirteen shouts.
Tetsujo surfaces and grins, coming to the side to lean on the edge next to Dokuga. “It was deep enough here,” he says.
“What did you do that for?” Dokuga licks his popsicle again. He doesn’t want his spit and the juice to drip into the pool, even though it would likely dilute his poison enough to be safe.
“Needed to cool off,” Tetsujo rests his chin on his folded arms. “Fuck, Dokuga.”
Dokuga glances sideways at him. He hears the sound of Thirteen and Kasukabe both standing up and looks over to see them heading to the bar. He puts the popsicle back in his mouth, pushing it all the way to the back of his throat and then pulling it back out again.
“Dokuga—”
“Meet me in the changing room.”
He tosses the finished popsicle stick out of the pool and pushes off from the edge, wading over to the ladder at the other side. Kasukabe’s behind the bar now, mixing drinks and balancing them on a tray for Jonson to take over to Haru. Thirteen’s watching this display impassively and drinking beer. Vaux and Kaiman are both asleep, and Nikaido is rooting around in the cooler. He pulls himself out of the pool and darts to the changing room at the side of the bar, hoping that nobody saw how tightly his shorts were clinging.
The changing room is small, just big enough for a row of lockers and a wooden bench. No private stalls. Not that it wouldn’t be obvious that people were fucking in them if there were. There is a lock on the building door, at least. He peers into the lockers to see if there’s anything interesting inside and finds a half-empty bottle of sunscreen, some scratched old sunglasses, a ratty towel, and one of Haru’s records. It’s titled Summer Mix (Evil Edition).
He peeks outside to see what Tetsujo’s doing. The bar is blocking the view of everyone else, but he can just see the edge of the pool.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT, HUMAN?” Comes Haru’s bellowing voice.
Tetsujo’s talking to her. Dokuga can’t hear what he’s saying.
“TOILET? I HAVE A TOILET THAT CONNECTS DIRECTLY TO HELL, HA! GO INSIDE. PAST THE CHANGING ROOM. SOMEWHERE ON THE LEFT.”
There’s a splash and Tetsujo says something else.
“THANK ME, HUMAN!”
Another splash. Tetsujo wades into view and grins when he catches sight of him. He plants his palms on the side of the pool and lifts himself out with ease, walking as if he’s going to come past the changing room before he darts inside. Dokuga shuts the door behind him and locks it.
When he turns around Tetsujo grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him up against the lockers, planting a quick kiss to his cheekbone before he drops to his knees in the puddling water on the tiles.
“That fucking popsicle,” he says, pulling the drawstring of Dokuga’s shorts undone. “You’re hard.”
Dokuga watches as Tetsujo pulls down his shorts, soaked through and dripping on the floor. His hair is wet from jumping in the pool and he has his sunglasses balanced on his head, the ones that Kaiman couldn’t wear. Dokuga can see his own reflection in them; a mess of damp black hair and the shine of his gold eyes from the light coming in from outside. Tetsujo puts his lips around the head of his leaking cock and takes it to the back of his throat right away and Dokuga gasps. He winds his fingers into Tetsujo’s hair as he takes hold of his dick. He strokes the shaft and bobs his head back and forth, licking and sucking at him just like Dokuga did to the damn popsicle.
“Slow down,” Dokuga moans, resting his head back against the locker and tugging at Tetsujo’s hair.
Tetsujo says something unintelligible and ignores him. His lips are tight around him and so is his hand, his tongue slick and warm as it slides over his dick. He moves fast and Dokuga squeezes his eyes shut.
“I’m close,” he gasps, bucking his hips forward into Tetsujo’s grip.
“No,” Tetsujo keeps hold of him but his dick slips out of his lips. “Not yet.”
Dokuga lets out a whine, mouth open and face flushed as Tetsujo lets go of him and stands up with a grin. Still teasing him. This is payback for the popsicle, even though Tetsujo started this fucking game by touching him the way he did when he was rubbing in the sunscreen.
Sunscreen.
He remembers the half-empty bottle he found in one of the lockers and feels around in the one next to him until he comes up with it, not wanting to take his eyes off Tetsujo’s bare chest and soaked shorts. He lifts it up and raises an eyebrow expectantly. Tetsujo grins and leans in to kiss Dokuga, this time on the side of his neck. He bites down on him, tongue grazing his skin, and Dokuga thinks that he must taste of chlorine and sunscreen. He tilts his head to the side and slides his hand down Tetsujo’s back to the waistband of his shorts, still dripping water into a steadily growing pool beneath them. He pulls Tetsujo against him, their cocks rubbing together, and Tetsujo groans into his neck.
“You’re going to leave a mark,” Dokuga says, squeezing Tetsujo’s ass.
“I know.” Tetsujo pulls away to look at him, the deep brown of his eye almost amber in the dim sunlight as it searches his face. “I don’t think I care if they find out.”
“I care.”
“I know,” Tetsujo sighs. “Why, though?”
Dokuga groans. He doesn’t want to talk about this now, not when they’ve been teasing each other all morning and now they’re both hard and their dicks are pressed together and he’s about two seconds away from begging to be fucked. “Can’t we talk about it after?” he asks through gritted teeth as his hips twitch.
“Mm,” Tetsujo bites his lip and looks down. “Yeah, okay.”
He takes the sunscreen from Dokuga and puts a hand on his waist, gesturing with a nod for him to turn around.
“Wait—” Dokuga grabs his wrist. “Tetsujo. I don’t want people thinking we’re only together because we lost everyone else. And I don’t want them thinking—” he closes his eyes. “I don’t want them thinking that I’m only with you because the boss is gone. Like—like I’m replacing him with you.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not. I just don’t want people thinking it.” Dokuga grimaces, opening his eyes to take in Tetsujo’s reaction. He’s looking at him softly, the slightest smile gracing his lips.
“I know all of that already, Dokuga. I wouldn’t have tried to kiss you if I thought there was any chance you were just gonna think of me like some kind of replacement Kai.”
“You shouldn’t have tried to kiss me anyway,” Dokuga retorts, tracing a finger down Tetsujo’s chest. “I could have killed you.”
“Yeah, you thought I was trying to kill myself,” snorts Tetsujo. “I got a pretty clear idea of your feelings after that.”
“I still don’t want other people thinking it.”
“You’re not giving them enough credit.” Tetsujo keeps his eye level with Dokuga’s while his hand moves down to his cock again, taking hold of it and brushing his thumb over the head. “I think they’d be happy for us.”
“I don’t know,” Dokuga breathes.
“Well, I do.” Tetsujo leans in close, his mouth right at his ear. “Can you trust me?”
Dokuga shivers at the feel of Tetsujo’s breath tickling his skin, the water from his hair dripping onto his cheek. He nods. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I trust you.”
Tetsujo kisses him quickly and then puts his hand to his waist again. Dokuga turns to face the lockers, forearms up against them as Tetsujo pulls his shorts the rest of the way down and Dokuga kicks them off to land on the floor somewhere with a wet slap. His fingers are cold and slick with sunscreen when they slide into the cleft of Dokuga's ass, probing slowly inside him. Tetsujo presses his lips to the back of his neck, taking his time as he fingers him. He’s unbearably hard now, still completely wound up from the teasing beforehand and then Tetsujo sucking his dick until he was right at the edge. He can feel himself leaking, Tetsujo’s fingers brushing the inside of him, and just as he’s brought to the edge again Tetsujo withdraws his fingers.
“Tetsujo—” Dokuga groans, looking back over his shoulder to glare at him.
“What?” Tetsujo grins, kissing him again. “You started this, you and that popsicle. I wish that had been my dick.”
“I wish it had been your dick as well.” Dokuga rolls his eyes. “But you started this. So, finish it.”
Tetsujo bites down on his neck as he pushes his cock into him, the harsh chemical smell of chlorine and the coconutty smell of sunscreen pervading the air all around them. Dokuga’s moan at the feel of Tetsujo’s cock in his ass is muffled by the back of his hand and he presses himself against the lockers and nods yes for Tetsujo to move, to fuck him like he wished he’d fucked him right there on that chair by the pool when he was sat on his thighs and rubbing his hands on his back.
He obliges, slamming into him and holding tightly to his hip with one hand while the other clasps around his chest to hold him close, nudging Dokuga’s head to the side so that he can keep biting and sucking at his neck. He knows that this is going to leave marks, that his neck is going to be dotted with reddish bruises and the imprints of Tetsujo’s teeth, but he finds that he doesn’t want him to stop. Tetsujo moves up to his ear, teasing him with his tongue, panting as his dick plunges in and out of him. Dokuga pushes back against him without meaning to, moving in time with him.
Tetsujo’s fingers are digging into his skin and he’s panting, water dripping from his hair onto Dokuga's shoulder. He reaches down to take hold of his cock but he doesn’t need to move his hand at all, because having him inside him is enough. His head lolls back and he bites his lip to stifle a whimper as he comes on the locker, clenching his ass around Tetsujo’s dick as he does. Tetsujo moans and thrusts into him harder, faster, until he’s coming as well, forehead pressed to Dokuga’s shoulder and gasping against his skin.
Dokuga’s legs are shaking when Tetsujo pulls out of him and he turns around to lean back against the locker, flushed and breathing hard. Tetsujo flops beside him and pulls his shorts back up. Dokuga’s are still on the floor where he kicked them off and when he bends down to retrieve them he grimaces at the cold wetness of the material, wobbling as he pulls them back on.
“Sorry about your neck,” Tetsujo says, kissing it gently. Dokuga assumes it’s pretty obvious what they’ve been doing.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind if they notice,” he says, examining the locker beside him and coming up with the towel he saw before. He slings it over his shoulders and hopes that’ll do the job. “I’d rather not make a spectacle of it, though.”
“What else is in that locker?”
“Summer Mix (Evil Edition). You like devil music?” Dokuga pulls out the record and offers it to him. The cover art depicts Haru standing over a flaming corpse, clutching her tail-microphone in one hand and a brightly coloured cocktail in the other. There’s a little umbrella in the cocktail glass and two devil-shaped cherries floating in the drink.
“Woah,” Tetsujo takes it from him and flips it over, though the track list is written in the devil language that they can't understand. “I bet this’ll distract her when we go out there.” He grins at Dokuga. “I mean, I know I said I don’t care if they know about us, but I’m not sure I want to announce to a devil that we just fucked in her changing room."
“Yeah.” Dokuga shudders at the thought. “Point taken.”
*
They both come out of the changing room at the same time and Dokuga ignores everyone as he makes a wide berth around the pool to return to his chair, lying on his front and beckoning Jonson to bring him a glass of water. Kasukabe and Thirteen are still at the bar, and Thirteen watches them emerge with narrowed eyes while Kasukabe pays no attention, presenting him with a cocktail the colour of toxic waste. Kaiman is lying on his back and snoring loudly, as is Vaux. Nikaido is eating another popsicle and raises her eyebrows at Dokuga when he catches her gaze. Haru is in her devil body, sitting cross legged on the tiles with a notebook and a pencil in hand.
She perks up when she spots what Tetsujo’s holding.
“Haru!” Tetsujo grins at her. “I like the cover art of your record.”
“MY SUMMER MIX (EVIL EDITION),” she proclaims delightedly, hopping to her feet and dropping the notebook. The pencil rolls away and splashes into the pool. “GIVE THAT TO ME, HUMAN. WHERE WAS THIS?”
Tetsujo hands it to her and points to the changing room.
“HAZE,” she says, trotting over to the bar and snatching the radioactive cocktail from Thirteen. “I MADE THIS ALBUM TO COMMEMORATE A BRIEF DAY WE SPENT HERE.”
“Who’s that burning on the cover?” Kasukabe takes it from her.
Tetsujo drops down onto the chair beside Dokuga with a smirk. His sunglasses fall off his head and clatter onto the floor. “I think we got away with that,” he says.
Dokuga’s not so sure, but the afternoon wears on and it appears as though everyone either doesn’t know that they fucked in the changing room, or they don’t care. Haru goes down the track list of her album with Kasukabe, explaining what each of her songs mean and what exactly inspired them all. Kasukabe seems genuinely interested in her stories, listening with a rapt ear and mixing drinks for the two of them. Kaiman wakes up and drags Thirteen into the pool to race and play volleyball, which lasts about five minutes before the ball lands on his head and pops on his spikes. Vaux spends the entire time dozing, drinking, and snacking. Nikaido rotates herself periodically to make sure she tans evenly, and then when she gets up to walk past the pool Kaiman grabs her by the ankle and drags her underwater with a shriek.
The whole day seems to fly by, and eventually they’re packing up their things and Haru conjures a door for them to go back to Hole.
“WITNESS MY ALMIGHTY DEVIL POWER AGAIN!” She shouts, pointing and Dokuga and Tetsujo and changing their clothes back to normal. Dokuga’s shorts were wet, and now his pants feel uncomfortably damp. "KNEEL!"
They do so, standing back up when Haru laughs with satisfaction. The door swings open and everyone thanks Haru for her hospitality.
“COME BACK ANY TIME,” she says cheerily. “I WILL PERFORM MY MUSIC FOR YOU.”
“I hope everyone had fun!” Kasukabe says with a smile when they’re standing back in his house, the hideous door of corpses closing behind them.
“Your wife’s got a nice place,” says Vaux. “I think Dokuga and Tetsujo had the most fun, though.”
Dokuga’s eyes widen and Tetsujo’s jaw drops open.
“What? You seriously think it wasn’t obvious when you both disappeared into the changing room for all that time?” Vaux scoffs. “Don’t you guys share an apartment?”
“I knew it was gonna happen when I saw you with that popsicle, Dokuga.” Thirteen bares his fangs at them in a grin.
“I knew it was gonna happen when I saw him—” Kaiman points at Tetsujo, “with the sunscreen.”
“You—” Dokuga can feel his face flushing red with embarrassment. “You knew?”
“Was it a secret?” Kasukabe raises his eyebrows. “We all know about you two.”
“You know about us—” Tetsujo gapes. “As in—”
“Yeah, we know you’re together,” Kaiman waves a hand dismissively. “Who cares? Let’s get back to the Hungry Bug. Are you cooking, Nikaido?”
“I’ll make us gyoza. You can help me, Kaiman.”
“Aw, really?”
“Wait,” Dokuga scowls. “You really don’t care? And how long have you known?”
“Dokuga.” Nikaido turns to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, a smile on her face. “You guys are our friends. If you’re happy, we’re happy.”
“Told you.” Tetsujo grins and puts an arm around Dokuga’s waist, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Besides, Dokuga,” Nikaido laughs. “You guys aren’t subtle. It doesn’t take both of you to carry the trash out every day, you know?”