You’re sick of it, sick of the teasing. the embarrassing comments about how you’re the one ruining sweet little yuuta when he’s the one with his hand down your pants. it agitates you to no end how he always seem to get away with it. distracting everyone with his glittery eyes and wide smile. well not this time. not when all eyes are on him. he’s standing out, a powerhouse at the sister school event. his every move is monitored, kyoto students memorizing his steps and tokyo first years clinging to him for advice. it’s so perfect. he’s bound to get caught with how he can barely keep his hands off you. fingers lingering on your hips and hot breath against your neck. you play along. heart beating rapidly with every whine that spills from your lips when he bends you over the closest surface. hips rutting into your ass through the heavy material of his uniform pants. he’s like a dog in heat, desperately grinding against you to get relief. he doesn’t even notice the group of eyes watching. the way his hips stutter and piston against yours distracts him while he paints his boxers white. doesn’t even notice how he just came in his pants. doesn’t notice the way everyone’s gasping and trying to look away while he continues to hump you. and you can only suck in an embarassed breath, teeth sinking into your tongue to mask the moans threatening to slip. at least now everyone knows. knows how he’s anything but innocent