some deep stuff here.

The dress you chose for this party is barely something you would wear in such a cold night, picked simply because you would be warm and cozy at a party, and not forced to be outside on the balcony.

Of course no one is there, like Gojo said. It would be crazy to hang out there is the middle of winter, but the two boys are relaxed and don't show an ounce of discomfort at the wind blowing every now and then.

Geto is still wearing his jacket so it makes sense he isn't uncomfortable, but Gojo gave up his to you. To be clear, he didn't do it because you were cold, but because he had enough of potentially other people gawking at you.

Now, away from the attention of other people, Gojo is debating taking the jacket off your shoulders just to be able to be the one watching you, cold and shivering. It's partly a punishment for daring to go out dressed like that, but he can't deny the rush of heat traversing his body when he eyes drop to your naked thighs, at the way they clench to have some warmth.

He is generous though, mostly because Geto would possibly offer his own jacket, so he lets you keep that one shield against the cold. You will leave behind your perfume anyway, which gives him a reason to grin, wide, toothy like always.

The forniture on the balcony is enough to welcome the three of you, but it's a tight affair. And you make yourself so small, so adorable, while the both of them sit way too close, legs flush against yours. Gojo's arm is on the backrest of the outdoor sofa, just barely touching your shoulders, while Geto has his hand on your knee, huge despite your size.

"So, were you having fun?" Geto asks, and you jump a bit at the sudden voice reaching you. You don't answer, just looking down at your feet. He leans a bit closer to your ear, "If you wanted to dance, you should have told us."

"That's right!" Gojo chimes in, arm finally dropping to circle your shoulders. He pulls you a bit towards him and looks at you over the rim of his glasses, "We would have thrown you a better party."

You swallow the lump in your throat. You make your voice heard, for once, "I just wanted to have an evening for myself..."

Your words trail off, not sure how or why justify your desire for a nice, carefree night away from the social desert the two of them created around you. In school, at this point, no one wants to deal with the possibility of making them angry by getting your attention. Even with the few people they considered friends they linger around like vultures ready to feast, as if you could slip through the cracks and be saved.

You hoped they never got to you here, with people from your friends' school. You really weren't even interested in looking for a partner, but the way that boy talked to you, complimented you, looked at you, it reminded you that you are desirable to someone.

Sure, you aren't blind. You know how Gojo and Geto look at you, they are not shy in showing their attraction, but their interest is suffocating, and it's not something you asked for. It's evident in the way Geto's hand trails up your thigh now, his fingers weaseling their way between your closed legs. He squeezes the soft flesh as he speaks, "Or maybe you just want attention?"

You press your legs together even more, and that makes the warm fingers impress on your skin even more. If you raised your eyes just then, you'd see the fire flicker in Geto's eyes at the sensation. But your attention is caught by Gojo's words, mixed with a bark of laughter and the bite of jealousy, "Of course she wanted attention. Look at how she's dressed."

You are even more aware of your naked legs, and your exposed arms, of the way the halter dress dips low on your back, and you thank the stars you have the jacket shielding you from their eyes. In an instant, you regret accepting to come here, buying the outfit, getting ready with your friend at your house, and you aren't even sure what you are fearing exactly.

"But she looks pretty, doesn't she?" Geto points out to Gojo.

"Of course she does," Gojo confirms, wide smile on his face, "But do you really want to share this with anyone else?"

You look from the corner of your eye towards Geto, and you see him in fake contemplation. Slender eyes darting from glass sliding door of the balcony, peaking into the party still going, to your face, taking notice of you looking in his direction. His usual pleasant smile blossoms on his lips, but it hides something dark behind, "You're right, I don't."

Your eyes drop again, the lump in your throat returning.

You dread what they are even thinking, talking above your head as if this was the most mundane of conversations, "Then we should go away. I'm sure we are just enough for her attention-seeking tendencies."

Geto hums in agreement. They both stand up at the same time, dragging you with them and leading you towards the sliding door. Once inside, Gojo takes back his jacket, his hand finding the space between your shoulder blades to push you forward as Geto pulls you behind him by taking your hand.

They retrive your jacket. The girl who hands it to you winks at you, giggling at the sight of two men waiting with bated breath to have you alone.

You don't tremble at the thought. But you don't know how to ask for help.

With your jacket on you, Gojo and Geto lead you out of the apartment, out of the building. The three of you would wait for a car outside.

Really, they are so used to just be in your space. However, they reasoned, they never saw you in these surroundings.

They decided, that one evening when the stalkerware they installed in your phone reported you were writing with your friend about a party, to monitor you. Simply because you are a simple creature, naïve, defenseless, unaware of the dangers of a party.

Even your gentle response to your friend betrayed an innocence about the happenings of a party. They remember the afternoon when your friend, from another school, brought you out to find the perfect outfit: how you gravitated towards safety, how your friend direct you towards more bold options.

They even remember the sensations they felt the moment they saw you in those clothes. They had Gojo bite his thumb's nail to stop the impulse of approaching, Geto lean forward as if that would bring him closer.

A little bit like now. They are both fighting the urge to stand up, really stand up with their shoulders straight to show their full height, and scoop you up.

Have their fingers sink in the plush meat of your thighs and your arms, that are left naked by the dress you ultimately chose, and carry you somewhere safe, somewhere far, somewhere only the two of them could reach.

But they stay put, nerves tense as they watch you dance. It's not as carefree as it could, you don't give yourself to the music as you still carry that air of self-consciousness you always have. Yet, you are dancing, to match your partner.

A boy.

From another school. The one your friends is from, to be precise, as she was the one to introduce you to the man who is now busy eating you up with his eyes. A quick introduction that Gojo and Geto didn't even bother to listen to, until he asked you if you wanted anything to drink. You answered you wanted something non-alcoholic; or perhaps something light, you corrected yourself, raising your head to meet his eyes, and looking positively adorable with that look of determination on your face.

If Gojo could have his hands on you, Geto senses, he would squeeze your cheeks at first, laughing about how cute you were. Then his hands would drift, touching places and caressing spots that would have you shake. If Geto had it his way, Gojo realizes, he would have you flushed against his body if you wanted to dance so bad. Then he would have you rest by sitting on his lap.

But there you are, dancing the night away with some guy who just smiles sweetly and doesn't hide his attraction behind a wall of scorn. And you look happy, with a shy smile blossoming on your glossy lips, and perhaps that's exactly why they're so hesitant in that moment: seeing you like that has never been a privilege they were granted, and they could still separate you from that boy as you stayed distant, dancing but in your own spaces.

It allows them to look inside a moment, to see something they can't have. Of course, of course they love when you are trembling and nervous under their gaze, when you become little and meek like a little church mouse, and they adore they way you give into their requests, the not-so-innocent questions that seem like penances to you. However, peeking into something that they are not supposed to see, and that something is the cheerful way you move your hips and chest to the beat of the music, makes them feel delirious.

It's not just intimate, it's forbidden to them.

Everything shatters, though, when a hand rests on your hip. They can see you jolt, surprised, and the boy comes closer toy.

And you let him.

When his hand goes on your other hip, pulling you towards him, it's enough. Gojo shoots up, and Geto doesn't stop him, opting to stand up and following him when he starts to stalk towards the two of you. The boy notices someone approaching fast, so he raises his eyes from you when he senses the movement.

You follow his gaze until your eyes lock with Gojo's, hidden behind the sunglasses.

You blanch.

"Been looking for you everywhere, piggy!" He declares, hand coming to grab your forearm and pulling you in his direction. You resist a bit, but he is too strong for you.

Soon after, Geto reaches you two, placing himself on the opposite side of Gojo so that you are surrounded. You shrink, the positive vibe you had about you moments before leaving your body.

"Why don't we go somewhere quieter?" Geto proposes, and Gojo is quick to agree. When the other boy tries to object, you see both Gojo and Geto stare him down.

They're taller, and bigger, and you see the poor boy back down from trying to keep you there. You wish you had enough bravery to apologize to him, but all you can do is lower your head.

You then remember, with your eyes fixed on your shoes, how you are dressed. The little dress that barely covers anything, that hugs your body in a tight fit, and you feel your face heat up. You have never been dressed like that in front of them, you're suddenly hyperaware of your position between them and the presence of their bodies so close.

One of them must have noticed something, because suddenly you have a jacket draped over your shoulders. It has a pleasant perfume, and you instinctively wrap it closer your your body. You don't even know who has given it to you, but for once in your life you feel grateful to them.