444𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑 (𝖄𝖚𝖏𝖎'𝖘 𝖁𝖊𝖗)

you try to tell yourself it’s nothing. it’s literally just his leg bouncing.

except it’s not just nothing when you’re sitting right there, pinned by his arm. and you can’t stop noticing him now—the width of his thigh under you, the way his body is all strength and warmth, the way he holds you.

you can’t help the way your body starts reacting—tiny little clenches, a faint ache, warmth building between your thighs.

he keeps bouncing his leg, and the friction builds.

subtle at first—then it starts to feel like your nerves have been tuned too high. your panties start to feel too damp. your clit throbs with each flex, each bounce landing in the same place like it’s targeted.

your hips twitch once—small, involuntary—because your body wants to chase the pressure even while your brain is screaming at you not to.

the tiny lift and drop of his leg turns into this steady, maddening rub that’s just enough to make you ache and not enough for anything more. it’s the kind of stimulation that makes your stomach tighten, makes your thighs want to clamp, makes you hold your breath so you don’t make a sound.

and then you realise megumi has gone too quiet.

you glance sideways, heart pounding, and he’s looking at you with that deadpan stare he always has—except his eyes are sharp, tracking you like he’s already clocked what’s happening.

his gaze flicks down once, to where you’re perched on yuuji’s bouncing thigh, then back up to your face.

your cheeks are flushed. your lips are parted. your breathing is not as subtle as you think it is. your grip on the cushion is tight.

“…itadori,” he says flatly.

yuuji doesn’t even look away from the screen. “yeah?”

“your leg.”

“huh—”

megumi cuts him off, just as flat, just as direct. “you’re grinding her on your thigh.”

silence.

yuuji’s leg stops mid-bounce.

the sudden stillness is almost worse—your body doesn’t stop wanting just because the motion stops. you’re left hanging in it, nerves lit, clit throbbing, slick cooling against fabric like evidence.

his arm tightens around you for half a second, like his body doesn’t know what to do with the sudden awareness.

“…what?” yuuji says, voice cracking, horrified.

megumi looks at yuuji with a tired expression. “look at her.”

he looks down.

and that’s when it hits him—your flushed face, the way your hand is clenched in the cushion, the way you’re sitting painfully still like you’re afraid if you move you’ll make it obvious. the way your thighs are tense.

“oh my god,” he blurts. “wait— i didn’t—”

yuuji’s panic kicks in immediately. his hand lifts from your waist like he’s afraid to touch you wrong, like his own warmth might be too much.

“i’m sorry,” he says fast. “i swear, i wasn’t... i didn’t even notice, i just— i always do that, i thought you were comfy...”

“i’m leaving,” megumi says, deadpan. “before things get worse.”

“fushiguro!” yuuji protests, mortified, but he's already walking away, like he’s done his duty and that’s enough.

the room goes quiet in the wake of the door closing. yet, you’re still sitting on yuuji’s thigh.

his leg is completely still now, but your body doesn’t calm down just because the movement stopped. you’re left with the aftereffects, your body still trying to chase something it was this close to getting.

“do you want me to move you?” he asks softly. “i will. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to...”

you swallow, cheeks burning. your pride is already ash. there’s nothing left to save. and because there’s no saving your dignity now, you whisper the truth anyway.

“not yet.”

yuuji freezes. his eyes widen, then soften, like something clicks into place—suddenly aware of how close you are, how you feel on him, how his body affected yours without even trying.

“okay,” he whispers. “okay. i won’t.”

he keeps his arm around you—still warm, still steady—but he stays perfectly still.

the quiet turns heavy because now he knows. now every inch of contact feels deliberate just because he's aware.

then, because he can’t help being sweet even while he’s flustered, he murmurs into your hair, “just… tell me what you need, okay?”

and your body clenches again at the gentleness of it—at the fact that he’ll listen. and the ache between your thighs answers before you do.