And so this friendly back and forth continued for a few weeks, until you found yourself settled into a steady rhythm. Everyday you’d lift a greeting hand when you’d pull into the driveway in the afternoon following school pickup and a quick trip to the supermarket. He’d wander over to the fence line and offer to bring the grocery bags inside for you with some playful quip about how ‘pretty ladies shouldn’t need to do any heavy lifting’ that always earned a giggle from the girls.

You’d counter with an offer of tea and freshly baked cookies, to which he’d dutifully decline, very much as expected. It was all very civil, ordinary, comfortable in its normalcy, with just the tiniest hint of flirtation simmering beneath the surface. You noticed it in the small things - the way his eyes followed you when you rolled the bins out into the street in the early morning. Makeup free, clothed only in your pajamas, still blinking sleep away with your hair pinned up in a wad of crazed rollers. Or the way you’d pause for a few extra seconds to admire the sight of his back muscles straining beneath a sweat soaked t-shirt as he tugged rogue weeds loose from the dirt in his front garden.

He must have had a sixth sense, because every time you let your eyes wander for even a second, in the next blink he’d have turned his head to meet your gaze with a knowing smirk dancing on his scarred lips, right before he’d eye your own yard and offer to clear out your weeds too.

That was until one particular Friday afternoon when you didn’t smile at him. You didn’t wave, or even bother to spare a glance in the direction of his house when you slipped out from behind the wheel and stomped your way around to the backseat to unbuckle the girls.

The sharp click of his tongue caught your attention as you not so graciously slammed the car door closed, and through the intensity of your focus you felt your face flush hot at the sound. With the girls unclasped and happily skipping to the front door chattering between themselves, you finally turned around and lifted an apologetic hand.

“Afternoon!” You chirped, though even to your own ears the tone sounded forced, strained. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to ignore you - busy day.”

You found that instead of being perched on his porch rocking lazily in a wicker chair or working away in his garage as he was most afternoons, he was instead stood just past the footpath a little closer to your yard, hands gloved and dirt caking his boots up to his knees. He lifted his head and wiped his hands over his jean clad thighs. You swallowed, watched a few dry dirt clumps flutter to the grass below.

“Doing some more gardening?” You smiled, softened a little with the familiarity, the ease of conversation with no expectation behind it. “It’s the perfect weather for it.”

For the weight of your own gloomy mood, the rest of the world seemed chipper as ever. The sun was warm, dappling your front yard with little petals of light between the tree leaves, and the wind was refreshingly crisp when it caught in your hair, swirling it skyward before you raised a hand to tuck the stray stands behind your ear. Toji was obviously feeling the heat of the afternoon - with the way his inky hair was sticking slick to his forehead in places, and you could see a bead of sweat dipping beneath the collar of his loosely buttoned shirt, crawling over the curve of a plump pec.

“Hm.” He hummed in reply, interrupting your train of thought as you followed the path the droplet was forging beneath the thin fabric with your eyes, “so what’s botherin’ you then?”

At his voice your eyes shot back up to meet his, and you offered a sheepish sort of smile in reply.

“I’m that obvious huh?”

He shrugged a little, breaking your eye contact - head lowered as he began to tug the muddied gloves from his hands, thick fingers flexing when they hit the comparatively cool air.

“You’re no award winning actress, that’s for sure.”

“Just been one of those days.” You sighed, feeling more and more exhausted with each word, as if each syllable were a brick tied to your ankles, weighing you down. “The girls are staying at their dads this weekend, and I’ve been so busy that I completely forgot to prepare their changes of clothes, and of course the washing machine stopped working last night and I…”

You trailed off, foregoing the hundreds of other minute irritations in favor of sucking your lower lip between your teeth. Blinking frantically, you instead looked sharply at the ground, hot tears of frustration beginning to well at your lash line. Brows knitted, you studied the grass peeking between the strips of concrete beneath your sandals intently, until you were absolutely sure you weren’t actually going to start crying.

“Well that’s easy then,” came Toji’s smooth reply after a few long moments. You were suddenly grateful for his tact, allowing you a few quiet minutes to compose yourself before expecting an answer.

“Easy?” You mouthed, a little wide-eyed as you gazed over at him quizzically, “what do you mean?”

“I’ll come fix the washing machine,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Uh, are you sure?” You questioned, a little uncertain, “it looked really broken, like ‘water soaking the whole laundry room floor’ broken.”

He looked entirely unperturbed when he finally got both hands free, and he cleared his throat as he tossed the mud clad gloves to the ground beside a collection of similarly dirtied tools.

“Door gasket, I’d bet money on it,” he replied smoothly, with a sort of calm confidence that had your shoulders relaxing an inch already, “I’ve got a spare in my shed. I’ll have it swapped in a flash, ten minutes tops.”

You said nothing for a few moments, pondering his offer. You considered another night spent fiddling with the door hinge. Flipping through the owners manual like it held the secrets to the universe, only to have your efforts result in a few firm kicks to the metal contraption and another day wearing old bikini bottoms as underwear. You pictured yourself sweating over the basin, handwashing the girls school clothes in a flurry of detergent and steam. You tired a little more at the mere thought.

“Alright then,” you finally nodded, beaming up at him with a relieved sigh, “thankyou very much, Fushiguro.”

“See? Easy,” he smiled in reply, “and for the last time, call me Toji, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but feel a shift in the energy when he finally stepped over the threshold and into your home, looking starkly out of place in the mellow sanctity of your front hallway. Harsh lines and dark contours in a sea of softness. Muted tones and family photos, kids finger paintings tacked to the fridge and little craft projects littering any flat surface.

“I’m sorry I don’t think I have any slippers in your size…” You murmured as you leaned down to unclasp the shiny little buckles of your sandals, toeing them off at the door in favor of a pair of plain house-slippers.

He nodded without reply and cleared his throat, head held high and eyes averted when you finally straightened back up. He wiggled his toes where they were pressed bare against the wood slats.

“It’s no problem.”

You bit your cheek against the urge to smile, and instead dipped your head and turned to begin walking down the hallway.

“It’s this way,” you called over your shoulder, hooking a finger in the air, “please follow me.”

If you’d felt unsure about having your neighbor in your entrance way, the feeling was tenfold with the sight of him craning his head as he stepped into the laundry room. As he straightened up, you watched his eyes catalog the space ever so subtly. It felt oddly intimate, and you felt a warmth begin to creep up your throat.

You toyed with the collar of your dress as he set the toolbox down, eyes lowered as he unclasped the closure and began emptying it of the needed equipment. You watched the motion of his hands pause for a fraction of a section, head tilted as he subtly eyed the basket of clothes tucked on the bench beside him. You followed his line of sight, and to your utter horror found a slip of black lace sitting blatantly at the top of the mountainous pile.

With embarrassment licking hotly up your nape, you stepped forward and quickly snatched the basket, tucking it to your hip with a quiet cough.

“My apologies,” you squeaked, angling your body to shield any more of your potential delicates from view, “Let me get that out of your way.”

“Sure,” came his smooth reply, seeming entirely unperturbed despite your sudden closeness. So much so that you wondered if you were overreacting, and he hadn’t noticed anything at all.

Still, you discarded the basket to an unused corner of the room out of sight nonetheless, and then began mindlessly tidying while Toji busied himself unscrewing the washing machine door.

As promised, no more than ten minutes later he was lifting himself to his feet with a low groan, nodding as he tucked a wrench back into the toolbox.

“What did I say?” He mused a little proudly, dusting his hands, “fixed in a flash.”

You turned your head away from where you had been color coding detergent boxes to gaze at the laundry machine, lips parted a little in awe.

“Wow, that was fast!” You chirped as your eyes wandered away from the shiny new hinge, trying to ignore the way the veins in his forearms popped from exertion, trailing in looping rivers down to his scarred knuckles. “Still, it must have been hard work. Why don’t you stay for a cup of tea?”

His lips parted instantly, and you raised a hand before he could utter a word in reply.

“And don’t decline like you usually do,” you teased, raising a lone brow at him, lips spread into a smile, “please, it’s the least I can do.”

He hesitated, looking as torn and mildly uncomfortable as you’d ever seen him. But when his eyes met your serious gaze he sighed and nodded in resolute defeat.

“Alright. I’ll only stay a minute.”

Not fifteen minutes later you were lowering a delicate tea set onto the coffee table in the center of your living room.

Two teacups and matching saucers printed in a blushed pink floral pattern clinked lightly as you shuffled utensils, slotting a sugar bowl and a milk jug in a delicate matching pattern onto the tabletop alongside a plate of cookies and delicately sliced lemons.

Satisfied with the spread, you straightened up. Both hands folded neatly over your front as you turned to fix the man who stood like a statue at the mouth of the room with a heartfelt smile.

“Please have a seat,” you invited with a gentle wave of your hand, motioning to the empty lounge while you took a few steps back toward the kitchen, “You don’t mind if I get some prep for the kids done while we drink?”

“Sure, It’s your house doll,” Toji nodded as he moved, easing himself onto the far end of the couch looking mildly uncomfortable, though he tried to hide it, “go right ahead.”

Turning your back, you tugged open the fridge and plucked a bag free from the lower drawer, sniffing at the earthy scent of the fresh vegetables tucked within. You busied yourself preparing them - scrubbing the dirt loose in the sink before you plucked a knife from the block and set the bundle atop a clean cutting board.

“I hope the tea is to your liking, Fushiguro-san.”

You spoke over the island as you worked, benefits of an open plan house meant you could chat while your guests relaxed, not that you entertained much these days.

When you peered over you found him gazing suspiciously at the contents of the cup before he took a slow sip, breath curling in steaming tendrils as he exhaled. You watched the shape of his shoulder slump a little with the breath, and he gazed at the teacup with a newfound appreciation as he lowered it back down to the saucer.

“It’s great,” he replied.

You smiled. “Excellent.”

You found yourself humming a little as you worked - dutifully slicing the vegetables into a range of shapes. Carrots became rows of soldiers, cucumbers sweet little hearts.

“So tell me Fushiguro-san,” you continued after a few minutes filled only by the sound of your steady chopping and his slow sips of tea, “how did you come to be so good with your hands?”

“I’ve taken a lot of odd jobs in my time,” came his voice from the lounge, “picked up a little something from all of ‘em.”

You made an appreciative sound, plucking another carrot free from the bag.

“Should teach me sometime,” you mused as you began to dice again, mind filling with pictures of your neighbor at work, that muscled form sweat soaked and strained, all filtered in a soft dreamy light, “I’m sure there’s a lot to lear- ouch!” 

You cut the sentence off with a hiss, blade clattering to the countertop. Your hands screwed tightly together at the sudden burst of stinging pain, severing the flow of blood to the finger you’d just sliced through.

Before you could blink Toji had shot to his feet, teacup abandoned to its little saucer, and by your next shuddered breath he was close, closer than you think you’d ever been to him. Big hands dwarfed your trembling ones, and he eased your finger out from when you were cradling it, eyes narrowed in assessment.

You watched his face, the twitch of his dark brows, and realized peering up at him then that you’d never noticed how green his eyes were, like little chips of jade as he peered down at your wound in scrutiny.

“Just a surface wound,” he diagnosed, voice light with relief and a touch of humor, “I think you’ll live.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, finding it difficult to conjure your voice with the way your pulse was racing, “I must have gotten distracted.”

“Stop apologizing so much,” he rumbled, eyes still down turned in scrutiny.

His hand slid, thumb teasing along your palm until his fingers closed around your wrist. You watched, a little dumbly, your lips pursed into a soft little ‘o’, as he lifted your bloody finger to his mouth.

You made an undignified sound high in your throat when the pad of your finger hit his tongue, doubly so for the tender sting of your cut against the wet heat of his mouth. You realized with a jolt of warmth that he was watching you, lips curled into a sly smile around the intrusion of your finger.

As quickly as it had occurred, he had slipped your finger from his mouth, instead thumbing at your palm like he were reading the lines etched there.

“No need to waste a plaster,” he murmured, eyes not leaving yours, “Y’know saliva has mild healing properties?”

You shook your head dumbly, still a little awestruck.

“No, I didn’t know that,” you breathed.

“You were right then, lots to learn, huh?” He smiled, an easy toothy smile that had the beginnings of butterflies thumping in your stomach. Your eyes flitted down to watch his lips part, ears pricked to hear his reply only for his mouth to settle into a smooth line. You blinked, and his expression had hardened, eyes turned back to stone, sharp and smooth as he peered over your head at something beyond your vision.

You craned your head to see why had him so prickled, and found a familiar face gazing back at you from the entryway.

Swallowing thickly, you took a few soft steps backward and tugged your arm free in favor of hugging yourself, mouth settled into a smooth line as you addressed your ex-husband.

“Geto,” You greeted. The lone word left you a little breathlessly, tone thick with familiarity, and yet still a little wrong - like a harp with a single string out of tune. You straightened, spine tugged up straight as an arrow, hands busied brushing nonexistent lint from your apron. “I’m sorry, I must have lost track of the time.”

You could feel Toji’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your skull, hotter still when he heard the sound of an apology begin to form on your tongue, a sound that was beginning to become familiar.

You were really standing here in your own home apologizing to this deadbeat?

“I’ll just get the girls,” You cleared your throat and took a few steps toward the kitchen window, chin lifted to call out through the screen. “Mimiko, Nanako - it’s time to go. Go and get your bags please!”

Left momentarily alone, Toji was the first to break the silence.

“Didn’t hear you knock,” he said smoothly, gazing down his nose at the man across the room. He looked relatively casual, unbothered. Though if you’d been close enough you could have caught the way the muscle in his thick jaw twinged beneath the press of his teeth.

Your ex-husband flashed a polite yet flat smile, hand lifted to flash a set of glittering keys, which he jangled lightly for effect.

“Let myself in.” He replied, eyes roaming in mild interest, the way you might peer down at a particularly interesting looking bug, “I don’t think I know you.”

“I’m the neighbor,” Toji answered, “just came over to help with some repairs.”

Geto’s eyes narrowed as they roamed the scene, though his tight smile didn’t fade, not even when his gaze settling on the tea set laid over the table.

“Repairs, huh…”

The air was thick when you turned back around. It was like the setup to some awful joke. You, your control freak ex husband, and your blisteringly hot neighbor walk into your living room…

You could feel a headache brewing, sharp and pounding, poking like an ice pick in the cavernous space behind your eyes. You’d wanted nothing more than to kiss your kids goodbye then trudge yourself to bed to sleep the weekend away, and maybe put on a fresh load of laundry. Now instead you found yourself stood in the middle of some sort of silent standoff between two emotionally constipated men.

Thankfully just as the start of some polite small talk was beginning to form on your tongue, the door to the back yard slid open and your two daughters burst through. They moved like a whirlwind through the doorway, tugging the screen closed behind them. Each had a backpack strung over either shoulder, their movement accented with the melodic jingle of little plastic key chains. You could hear them bickering, quiet biting comments that were becoming more and more sharp, quickly brewing into an argument.

With a sharp lungful of air exhaled swiftly through your nose, you forced a tight smile and strutted past the two men into the hall, easing into a squat so you were eye level with the twins.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, both hands raised to pet at either girls head, thumb smoothing down hairs messed from running around the yard, “aren’t you both excited to spend some time with daddy?”

Both girls nodded furiously, though their lips were warped into matching award-winning pouts.

“Yeah,” Nanako was the first to speak, “but you said I could hold bumblebee in the car.” She whined, pointing accusingly at the transformer clutched in Mimiko’s hands. It was hard to keep your composure, with the way her little bottom lip was beginning to tremble.

“Mimiko,” you began, voice soft as you addressed the other girl, “we did talk about this, you remember? Why don’t you take your new doll instead?”

With a few more words that began to edge on stern by the end, and just a little more whining, both girls were soon skipping out of the front door toward your ex husbands car - a sleek black coupe he certainly hadn’t owned during your seven years of marriage - each with a toy clutched proudly in their little hands.

You lingered by the doorway like an unfulfilled spirit, lips still tingling from where you’d pressed them to either girls foreheads in farewell. You traced your mouth, feeling the skin there soft like a petal against your fingertips. You always found it hard to say goodbye, even for such a small span of time as a single weekend.

Geto paused beside you in the doorway for a moment, watching the two girls climb into the backseat, before he turned around to face you once again.

Toji watched the scene play out from the living room. He watched your ex-husband’s eyes rake greedily over your body, at your arms wrapped around your stomach, curled in on itself. He watched the way the man’s lips spread into that same serpentine smile he’d worn when he first entered your home, the way he took a few purposeful steps toward you - crowding your space before he leaned down to murmur something low in your ear. 

Toji couldn’t see your expression, but he did catch the way the curve of your shoulders tightened all the same, stance rigid even when Geto finally stepped back over the threshold and you swung the door closed with a somewhat desperate ‘click!’.

With the two of you alone, once again that heavy permeating silence settled over the space. So thick that you felt it in your throat when you swallowed, dry and sharp like you’d gone days without water. Again, Toji was the first to break it.

“He’s got a key?” He questioned, a little unexpectedly, “You don’t think that’s a little unsafe?”

You rubbed a hand across your brows, paused where you were still poised by the front door with your arms wrapped like a blanket around yourself and your eyes screwed tightly shut. 

“I don’t think I need advice from a stranger, but thankyou,” you bit, maybe a little harsher than necessary, “Next time I want critique, I’ll ask.”

A beat of silence passed, heavy in the air between you before Toji whistled lowly.

You sighed, feeling your energy leak out along with the exhalation. Toji watched you move then, tired steps across the room until you slipped back behind the countertop, eyes lowered and hands busily shifting the dirtied utensils to the sink.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” you murmured after another few beats of contemplative silence, looping lashings of dish soap over the dishes, over the knife still smeared with your blood. “It’s the stress talking. Please forgive me.”

Toji followed you into the kitchen. A few lazy strides and he was leaning back into the opposite counter, expression hidden behind your back.

“‘S’alright,” he mused, voice a little softer now, “just saying - if anything happens, you come straight to me, okay?”

Your chest felt tight, throat burning with a rising wave of emotion. You were grateful that you had your back to him, the angle shielding the way your eyes were starting to water.

“Thankyou,” you replied, pleased when your voice came out steady despite the slight wobbling of your lower lip.

Toji considered you for a moment in silence, thick forearms crossed casually over his chest.

“Gotta say though, you do look a little tense.”

That earned him a chuckle.

“Y’think?” You replied, half laughing, half exasperated.

“Yeah,“ he agreed, and you could hear the smile teasing at the edge of his voice, “must be hard, taking care of them on your own like this. You ever get any time for yourself?”

You snorted, unable to quite stop yourself from smiling along with him, though you kept your gaze fixed firmly on the dishes, on the way heaping clusters of soft bubbles were beginning to form beneath the spray.

“Hah, now that’s funny,” You replied, lashes fluttering as the steam filtered upward, sweet with the lightly citrusy scent of the dish soap.

“No?” He pushed, “you don’t do anything at all to relieve all that stress?”

With the nearness of his words you realized suddenly just how close he was, evidently having taken a few steps toward you while you were occupied with the white noise of the tap drumming against the sink.

Just as you had worked up the courage to turn back around, you felt it - the slow press of his hands as they came to rest gently over either of your shoulders. You froze mid turn of the tap, fingers wrapped tightly around the spigot, unable to quite stop the way your breath caught in your throat.

“You know I’m good with my hands,” he assured, voice a low rumble just as soothing and warm as his touch, “no pressure, you say the word and I’m gone.”

“You’ve already done so much, and I-“

“Shhh,” he hushed, and you could hear every syllable of his next sentence closely now with the water stilled, “allow yourself something nice, just this once.”

Each big palm felt warm as hot stones as they moved, beginning to draw slow circles into the tense points of your shoulders. His thumbs rolled simultaneously, firm circles converging at the notches of your spine. Your head dipped forward, and it took every inch of your withering self restraint not to let free the breathy moan already forming on your tongue.

“Is this pressure alright?” Came his voice from behind you, dropped low enough that you strained a little to hear it properly. 

Not trusting your own voice, you simply nodded your head in reply.

“Good.”

He continued thumbing at the tender knots in your back, hands big and warm and just calloused enough to feel rough whenever his fingers dipped innocently beneath the neckline of your blouse.

With his sudden closeness you could catch the scent of him, a subtle tinge of fresh sweat, though not unpleasant. Just a little earthy where he’d been digging up garden beds. You leaned into it, catching the remnants of something cool and masculine lingering beneath. It was oddly comforting, the sort of profile you hadn’t smelt in a long time.

”This is… this is nice… thankyou Fushiguro,” you managed, grateful that your voice remained relatively steady despite how clearly breathless you were.

”Just being a good neighbor, doll,” he replied smoothly.

You all but melted into the touch, fingers gripping the benchtop for dear life as you tried to maintain composure while receiving what was likely the most contact you’d experienced in months, maybe even years at this point. Certainly nobody had taken their time with you like this since your divorce, well before then if you considered the countless nights your marital bed lay figuratively and literally cold. 

Before you could take a nosedive into that looming rabbit hole of memory, a roaming thumb dug into a particularly tight knot and you gasped aloud. Mortified, you slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Sorry,“ you swallowed hard, lips brushing against your clasped fingers, “that spots a bit tight.”

He hummed lightly somewhere behind you.

“Yeah, you do feel a little tight, doll,” he chuckled, “don’t worry though, don’t gotta be quiet with me.”

His hands resumed their slow massage, and you squeezed your eyes closed against the sudden dizzying wave of desire rolling over you. It coiled like a writhing serpent, heated and sticky in your belly.

“Poor thing, you really don’t get any relief do you?” Toji continued, hands still rubbing dutifully over your swiftly softening shoulders. “So what’s your vice, huh sweetheart? There’s gotta be something. You drink? Smoke? Nah, don’t seem like the type.” 

Your fingers curled and flexed over the bench top, beginning to heat, clammy beneath the press of your fingers. Here he was helping you out of the goodness of his heart, and you and your filthy sex-denied mind could do nothing but dream about what those rough hands would feel like dipping just a little lower, how that graveled voice might sound hitched with pleasure. 

Toji hummed, a rogue finger slipping beneath the delicate strap biting into the skin of your shoulder.

“Maybe you just get off, is that it? Maybe I’m not the only man you invite over under the guise of innocent household repairs and tea, hm?”

You let out a sharp, shocked sound, and lifted your head with the intention to spin around and face the man accusing you of such debauchery, only to find yourself utterly frozen beneath the press of his palms.

“C’mon, don’t act so coy,” he cooed, the firmness of his hold keeping you facing forward, “I saw those panties. Those aren’t sweet little stay at home mom panties. Those are ‘bend me over the kitchen counter and spank me ‘till I cry’ panties.”

“Don’t be crude, there are no other men,” You stuttered in return, unable to quite hide the way your voice trembled, “I bought those for myself.”

“So you just take care of yourself then, huh? All on your own?” He hummed, the fingers of one hand teasing up to clasp over your nape. “You slide into bed after everyone’s asleep and tug open that beside drawer of yours, don’tcha?”

You could do nothing but shiver beneath his touch, beneath his words, curling hot and salacious over the shell of your ear. He took your shuddered breath as confirmation, and his grin only stretched wider at the revelation.

“Lemme guess - a little vibrator. Something small and quiet, discrete like.”

You couldn’t help the little whine that slipped free, the purr of his voice in your ear and the way his thumbs were still drawing circles into your tender muscle was enough to knock your knees.

“Yeah, it’s probably real cute. Just like you, huh?”

You felt the weight of him shift behind you, a thick wall of heat pressed suddenly to your back. He walked you a few steps forward until your belly hit the island bench. The cool marble cutting into your hips in stark contrast to the warmth of his hands as they slid downward and began to tease at the soft curve of your waist, toying with the apron knot tied there.

“Or maybe it’s the washing machine. Is that why you were so keen for me to fix it? Do you put a load on deep clean, hike that skirt up and press your cute little clit against the corner? Grind on it like some needy bitch in heat until you cum your brains out?”

“That’s obscene,” you gasped, face blazing.

“Obscene, huh?” He echoed, so quietly you strained to hear it, too consumed by the feeling of his lips brushing your neck, the delicate scratch of stubble there. “I’m starting to think you like ‘obscene’, doll.”

You felt his lips part then, breath warm and sticky against your skin before he pressed a slow open mouthed kiss just below your earlobe.

“Oh…” you sighed, the sound highpitched and a little breathless. “Hah-… Fushiguro…”

Before you could quite fathom, kisses had turned to gentle suckling, his tongue laving hotly over your delicate skin until you were sure there was a spattering of dark slippery marks there.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Toji?” He murmured into your skin between kisses, teeth grazing the spot he’d been suckling, sharp and dangerous against your throat.

“-ah… Toji…” you moaned.

He all but purred in response, a satisfied rumble that you felt against your back.

“Yeah, that’s it. Keep sayin’ my name, just like that.”

His hands roamed freely now, slipping from your waist to tug at the string knotted at your tailbone, working his fingers between the loops until it slipped free and sent your apron cascading down your shoulders, pooling between your slippers.

“Look at you, playing sweet little housewife,” he murmured into your hair, the delicate sensation sending a flurry of goosebumps prickling down your neck. “But your nobody’s wife anymore, are you doll?”

You couldn’t help the honest to god whimper that left you at his words, the icy cut of truth. Tenfold when you felt his hands slide up your belly and come to rest over either breast, where he began to massage the tender flesh in greedy heaping fistfuls.

“How long’s it been since someone touched you like this?” He murmured, running a fingernail over and then pinching gently at either sensitive nipple through the fabric, just to feel the way you jerked against him.

“T-too long.” You managed between a sucking gasp, hands gripping the edge of the counter so tight that your knuckles ached with the effort.

His hands slipped lower, groping shamelessly at your ass, your thighs - at the slip of plump fat peeking out below your modest skirt.

“C’mon, spread ‘em for me.” He prompted, toeing at the inside of your bare ankle.

On wobbling legs you shimmied your feet apart, and simultaneously a big hand came to rest on your lower back, rubbing soothingly up the line of your spine before he pressed down at the crux.

“Arch it now, c‘mon, you still remember how don’tcha doll?”

Swallowing hard, you leaned forward, following the pressure of his palm until your chest hit the countertop and your hips lifted into a sinful arch. The sensation was palpable - the marble smooth and cool against your skin through your blouse, tickling where his fingers had pinched your nipples to sensitive little peaks.

With a pleased sound, his hand shifted, slipping down to instead tug at the hemline of your skirt, hiked a little higher now thanks to your vulnerable position. He slid the fabric up slowly, revealing more and more of your silky skin, the air pebbling it to goosebumps before finally he hit the curve of your ass, and he paused.

“Well well, what do we have here?”

A snort sounded from behind you, and you buried your head in the crook of your arms with the realisation of what he was surely seeing.

“Oh my god,” you whined frantically, shaking your head, face beginning to heat, “just hurry up and take them off!”

Instead of doing as you asked, he looped a thick finger beneath the tie of your cheetah print bikini bottoms, and tugged back far enough that when he released it the elastic snapped against the skin of your hip. You jerked forward at the nip of pain, frowning backward at him from over the curve of your shoulder.

“Nah, need a good look at these first,” he chuckled, flourishing the taunt with a low whistle that had your blood pumping ever hotter. “Scandalous, sweetheart. You wear these to the local pool?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed furiously, stuttering a little as he began to grope greedy handfuls of your bare ass, “can you-hn!- imagine what the other moms would say?”

“Mhmmm, oh yeah,” he purred, admiring the way the patterned material bunched beneath his grasp, “can just hear the jealous hags now.”

He ran a thumb ever so softly down the centre of your cheeks, tracing where the fabric dipped into what had become a rather cheeky g-string. The bikini had fit modesty at some point in your life, though those years were long behind you now - body filled out and softened now with the passage of time and the demands of motherhood.

“Y’know they talk big, talk mean, because deep down they’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” You mouthed, peeking over your shoulder with lifted brows.

He tugged one looped tie of the waistband free, drinking in the sight of your newly bare skin as the fabric slid down with half-lidded and hungry eyes.

“Mhm, ‘cause you’re the hottest woman in the whole damn town,” he hummed, “and whaddya think they’re gonna say when they find out what we’re doing right now, huh?”

He finally worked the last knot of the bikini bottoms loose, letting the sinful cheetah print slide down your thighs and land in a crumpled heap at your feet beside your apron. You buried your face into the countertop, breaths coming heavy now with the cool air kissing your now utterly bare lower half.

“The perfect little devoted mother letting a man like me bend her over her kitchen counter…”

His fingers replaced the delicate brush of his thumb and slipped down between your spread legs, teasing over your bare slit. You choked out an incoherent plea, for what exactly you weren’t sure, though any thought slipped away entirely when his fingertips found your clit and you all but collapsed into the bench at the contact, soft belly and forehead pressed hard against the marble. 

“Oh, Toji…” you groaned into the countertop, lips grazing the cool surface, humid now with your panting breath. 

You were suddenly thankful that he hadn’t turned you over, hadn’t guided you into the bedroom with peppered kisses and plush sheets. You didn’t need gentle right now. Didn’t need soft sweet missionary while holding hands - you needed the bite of teeth and the graze of nails, calloused hands gripping tight until you bruised. You needed hard and rough and wrong, and thankfully Toji Fushiguro was all of those things. 

“That stupid bastard doesn’t know what he’s missin’…” Toji growled, fingers beginning to rub tight little circles into you, “leaving you all alone ‘n empty like this, its just not right.”

You couldn’t answer, mind utterly empty aside from the feeling of his rough fingers grazing over your long neglected clit, the way you could feel yourself flutter when he dipped inside just an inch to slick his fingers with you before he was smearing it back over your twitching nub.

“‘S’okay, I’m here now, isn’t that right sweetheart?”

With his spare hand he tugged one of your legs up until you got the hint and lowered your knee to the countertop. His thumb hooked beneath your leg, pressing down to spread you ever wider.

He whistled, gazing greedily down at the sight of you spread so easily below him. Eyes drinking in the stretch marks striping over your waist, scars silvery in the cool light, the spattering of little dimples worn into the fat of your thighs and your ass. His other hand continued to work dutifully between your thighs, each rub beginning to sound sticky with the effort.

“Look at you, look so perfect like this,” He lifted a thumb, pressing the digit to your puckered rim.

You moaned something unintelligible, rocking back onto his hand, forcing his fingers to slip up through your folds - now painted in the sticky mess of your arousal. He chuckled behind you, watching the way you were all but grinding yourself on his fingers.

With a suddenness that made you whine he tugged his hand free, and the delicious pleasure of his touch was gone along with the simmering heat creeping to a boil in your belly.

“Don’t have any condoms, sweetheart,” he murmured regretfully like he had any intention at all to stop. 

“Doesn’t matter, promise I’m clean,” you pleaded, wiggling your hips like you could glean just a lick of friction from the motion, though the only thing it earned you was the mild slide of the countertop beneath, “please Toji, need to feel you, all of you.”

Toji groaned behind you, and a hand came to rest over your ass, pinching lightly before he applied a light slap just to watch the motion ripple over your plump skin.

“Fuck, doll,” he breathed, “you’re making it real hard for me t’ make good choices right now,”

Then came the metallic hum of a zipper being tugged slowly downward. If nothing else the sound was a trigger, stoking the pulsing throb between your thighs, so incessant now that it was beginning to ache.

Before you could offer any further words of encouragement, you felt it - a thick heat pressed against your rear. Toji, slotting his hips against yours. With a thrilled little zip of adrenaline you realized he wasn’t going to bother with working you open slowly, he wasn’t going to sweetly and tenderly stretch you with each of his fingers like a real lover might. What you felt now slipping through your slick folds was him, all of him - plain and simple and raw.

“Take a deep breath, sweetheart,” he murmured, breath hot against your skin.

You could barely hear the words for the sound of your own pulse hammering in your ears. Acquiescing, you parted your lips and sucked in a long lungful of air.

Toji waited until he heard your breath begin to fray at the edges - air drawn into the very corners of your lungs - before he nudged forward and knocked it clean out of you.

You choked on the next breath, struck by a searing sting as he pushed inside. Inch after inch after thick inch stretched you wider than you’d been in years. It was stunning, the culmination of sensation - the solid press of his broad form against your back, the weight of him sinking inside. Hot and tight and utterly consuming, a cocktail of feelings you’d long since forgotten.

“Oh god, Toji…” you whined, the sound pitched high and breathy, squirming against the marble, though his presence left very little space to move.

“Sh, that’s it, just a little more,” he shushed, though there was nothing soothing about the harsh press of his hips, “Shhh… nearly there, just let me…”

And with a final firm nudge, you were full.

“There you go, mmm-… that’s it sweetheart, good girl.”

To his credit, he allowed you a few moments grace just to acclimatize. You could feel him, every inch. Every pulsing vein decorating that thick shaft, every indulgent curve, the sticky head kissing so deep that a delicious little ache was beginning to bloom alongside the desirous pit of heat in your gut. 

“There you go,” he soothed, “just relax.”

You barely had the wherewithal to comprehend the cocktail of sensations before he was moving, rocking his hips in tight shallow little thrusts against your rear, kept nice and deep.

“Hm! Mhm! Hah.. ah!…” the sounds slipped free without thought, without care, knocked loose by each new buck of his hips.

“Fuck sweetheart, can see why you got so many kids,” Toji grunted, hand clenched into a fist over your skirt, scrunched into a bundle at your waist, “I’d never wanna pull outta this perfect fuckin’ pussy either.”

Your brain might have forgotten what it felt like to be fucked properly, but your body certainly hadn’t. Despite the lack of prep, despite the years you’d been left empty and neglected - your slick walls still sucked him in easily, pussy stretched and clenching desperately around his length like it was made just to take him.

“Oh god… there Toji, -hah-… hn… right there!” You cried, jostling limply back and forth with the force it.

Your bare toes curled where they were splayed limply to the side, slipper long since knocked free, abandoned along some stretch of tile. The other was beginning to come loose, slipping from your dangling foot with each thrust as you found yourself pushed further and further along the countertop.

“Right here?” He teased, hips angled until he hit a spot so tender that your eyes rolled into your skull and your lashes fluttered, “Yeah, feels good, huh mommy?”

You whined with a limp nod, slack jawed. The skin of your cheek slid over the smooth countertop, jammed forward with each firm thrust, the marble slick and wet with your pooling spit.

“Oh, you like that do ya'?”

His steady movements slowed to a torturous roll. Long aching thrusts pulled out until just the tip remained, before he slid back inside so deep that your legs were sent into a pleasured wobble.

“Wanna be a mommy again, ‘s that it? C’mon then mommy, show me just how bad you want it.”

You barely had the wherewithal to answer, certainly not enough to shatter the illusion by telling him your tubes were tied. So instead you simply ignored the trembling of your legs and pushed backward, hips rolling to meet each of his firm thrusts.

For maybe the first time since you'd met the man, you watched Toji stutter. For a few long moments he did nothing but watch you fuck yourself open on him through low-lidded eyes, using him shamelessly as he stood slack jawed, utterly lost in the rhythmic vision of himself disappearing inside only to slip back out glossy and coated with you.

It was only when you whined that he was tugged back to reality, his hand coming to grope at the fat of your ass, slamming you back down on his cock, again and again until you squealed.

“Shit, that’s it… knew you had it in you..." He was panting now, words beginning to slur a little at the edges as he lost himself in your silky heat.

You nodded your head mindlessly, squeaking out a sharp noise of surprise when his palm came down to slap the swell of your ass, hard. The sizzle of pain dipped lower instantly, dribbling into the pool of heat bubbling in your lower stomach.

You felt yourself clench with the residual sting of his handprint, and he groaned - leaning forward to drape his toned abdomen over the curve of your spine. You felt him nose at your nape, nipping lightly before his lips pressed flat and he began to suck a bruise into the fevered skin there. You writhed, smacking limply at the countertop either side of your head, fingers curled and nails scratching mindlessly into the glossy marble. 

“That sweet little housewife act, what a joke,” he huffed against your ear, “just about beggin’ me to bend you over, fuck you raw.”

He spoke the words into your skin like a promise, and you could feel his nose nudging at your nape, at the little hair curling there wet with sweat. His thrusts had softened somewhat, turned wide and sloppy at the edges as he instead ground himself into you. You simply squirmed against the weight of him, clenching and twitching helplessly around his cock.

“Ah- ah! Hah! ha- ah!” You panted, sweet little sizzles of pleasure zipping down your spine each time he rocked your forward and the motion forced your clit against the counter, rubbing in a slick glide over the marble, sticky where your collective arousal was beginning to pool. 

“Gonna give it t’ me aren’t you?” He pleaded, clearly just as gone as you were, “gonna let me cum inside, huh mommy? Gonna gimme another baby?”

Another? You didn’t have time to question him, didn’t have time to  think about anything at all, not with the way your belly was burning - a hot sizzling ache set to spill over with just one more thrust, just one more…

“Shit!” He cursed, and your own eyes rolled skyward.

With a final particularly vicious buck your vision went white as a snowbank, and suddenly you were cumming, hard. Harder than you think you’d cum in years. Shit, maybe decades.

You felt his forehead hit the space between your shoulder blades as he collapsed, muttered out a string of curses and low groans as he rutted himself into you, hips stuttering in a wild hump. You could feel him pulsing deep inside, throbbing in hard little kicks against your clenching walls as he filled you.

Your head was fuzzy with the heat of it, and your ears rung with the hot rush of your own pulse. The kitchen was silent aside from your collective panting, and your own breathy moans as you rode out the residual sparks of pleasure, twitching mindlessly around where he was still buried deep inside. 

He laid over you like a concrete slab for a few moments, body firm and hot, chest sticking to your back. Even through the fabric you could feel the heat of him, the delicate tap of his pulse against your shoulder blades.

With an almost pained grunt he lifted himself up and slipped from you, though his hands remained braced around your hips, a steady presence as you eased yourself back to your feet.

The cool tile kissed your bare soles for only a few seconds before you were lifting a hip to the counter and sliding atop it, grimacing only a little at the slick squelch of your collective spend soiling the marble.

You took a moment to indulge in the sight of him, and he gazed back at you with half-lidded eyes, looking messed and a little drunk in the afterglow. His hair hung in inky strands over his eyes, cheek bones flushed and tanned skin warmed to a rosy pink. Just the same as when he’d greet you after a long afternoon spent pulling weeds and planting fresh sprouts in his garden, all sun-kissed and sweat dappled, gorgeous.

“Could you pass me my purse, please?” You asked, nodding your head to the bag tucked on the counter behind him.

He lifted a brow at you but offered no words of argument, hand lowered to tuck himself back into his jeans and tug the zipper up as he turned to retrieve the bag. You drank in the sight greedily, the sinful curve of his muscled back, waist turned to nothing but a narrow slip with the severe angle. You managed to tear your eyes free just as he spun around to face you again, taking a few steps forward to slip the bag into your outstretched hands.

“Thankyou,” you praised as you tugged the clasp open, rummaging through the purse for a few moments before you pulled out a well-worn pack of cigarettes.

Plucking one loose, you slotted it between your plump bitten lips and abandoned the pack to the counter. When you lifted your head you found that Toji was grinning.

Tilting your head, you lifted an eyebrow, wiggling the stick between your lips expectantly. Toji chuckled, hand already stuffed into his back pocket to fish a lighter free. He shook his head, still smiling, and stepped forward. One hand clasped around the old Zippo, and the other cupped around your mouth in a motion that felt practised. With a metallic flicker your face was illuminated with a warm glow. His fingertips grazed your cheek, and you sucked in a slow mouthful, watching from beneath your lashes at the cherry sizzling to life.

Toji stepped backward and flicked the lighter closed, watching you lift a hand, delicate fingers closed around the stick. You pulled the cigarette free and exhaled, and with the swirl of smoke between your teeth came a low satisfied sound. Toji watched the tendrils of smoke cloud your face, then flitter skyward.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you doll?” He mused, jade eyes glinting as he stepped in close, one palm planted either side of you, caging you against the counter.

As he moved his finger hooked over the lip of one of your delicate teacups, which he tugged along until it came to rest beside your relaxed thigh. 

Your lips lifted to a smile, and you turned, twisting a little to tap the singed end of the cigarette into the cup, watching it dissolve into the remnants of tea still swirling at the bottom.

With your movement came a sticky squelch, and both of your eyes dropped instantly to the source of the sound. You spread your legs slightly, spare hand lowered to lift the hem of your skirt. Toji barely managed to swallow the sharp sound that threatened to escape him at the reveal of your bare cunt. Your swollen folds, the spatter of coiling hair smeared with your shared arousal, the sight of his spend beginning to leak out of you in hot milky dribbles.

You sighed, lower lip pushed into a pout as you watched the mess that was forming on the countertop between your legs. “I’m going to have to clean again.”

Without word Toji lowered himself to his knees, hands abandoning the counter to instead wrap around either of your thighs and tug you to the edge.

You took another drag and peered down at him through the curling tendrils of smoke. The sight of him kneeling beneath you - thick thighs lightly spread, eyes peering up at you from beneath dark lashes - was enough to send a fresh jolt of desire through your aching body.

You bit your lip, feeling your pussy twitch with interest, and from the look of his quickly tightening jeans you imagined that he wasn’t very far behind you. 

And you got away with it for a while– for years, to be exact. It became your secret hobby, observing the notorious Zenins like they were animals in a zoo. And in some cases, they acted as such. Aggressive, possessive, always fighting for dominance with each other while forcing the women to maintain the home and watch after the kids. They bred like rabbits, you noticed. You thought that maybe they needed a new hobby of their own.

Your parents told you to keep your distance from them, though they had no idea that you liked to sneak off and get as close to the family as you could. If they had, you’d no doubt be punished for your idiocy. Even as a child, you knew your parents had a good reason for ordering you to stay away from the Zenins, but it wasn’t until you saw the true extent of how cruel they could be that you finally understood it for yourself.

Aggressiveness, fighting for dominance– those weren’t things the adult men reserved for use against each other. No, they involved the children, too, not only forcing them to fight for their entertainment, but retaliating against them as well. 

But why? What was the purpose? As an eight-year-old little girl, you couldn’t figure it out; it confused you. Your parents were strict at times, doling out punishments as they saw fit, but… never to this extent. 

The boy running through the garden looked terrified, glancing over his shoulder as the other chased him down. The one in front tried his best not to trample the flowers, yet the one behind him didn’t seem to give it another thought as he ruined them. Both of their yukatas were smudged with dirt, even ripped in a few places, too. It was evident by just their appearance alone that they had been doing this for a while, only now deciding to bring it outside.

While trying to mitigate flower damage, the boy ended up tripping, and just as quickly, he turned over to defend himself from the other, muttering, “Jinichi, I never-” A harsh kick to his ribs had the boy groaning and curling in on himself. “Whatever Ogi said isn’t true-”

“No?” Jinichi questioned in monotone and laid another kick to his ribs. “Hear that, Uncle? Toji says you’re a liar.”

A man who you hadn’t noticed stepped into view, spectating the debacle with a critical glance. The boy– Toji, as you learned– shook his head, raising his eyes to meet Ogi’s. “I didn’t say you’re a liar, but whoever told you that I-”

Before you could blink, the man moved so quickly, pressing to Toji’s mouth the end of a long cane he was toting around. The boy fell silent, eyeing the wooden stick with a bit of fear. 

“Are you calling my attendants liars, then?” Ogi never gave Toji the chance to answer before he handed off the cane to the other boy and said, “You may continue as we’ve practiced. I trust that you won’t kill him, but don’t be gentle either. The conniving runt isn’t worthy of your mercy after what he’s done to you.”

As the man stalked off in the opposite direction, heading back toward the house, you watched Jinichi reaffirm his grip on the cane with a determined look on his face. Toji used his arms to pull himself backward, but not far enough that the tip of the wooden rod couldn’t ram right into his face when Jinichi finally swung for him.

You gasped a quiet sound, heart thumping faster and faster in your chest when you heard his pained groan. He angled his face toward the other, scared but not backing down. Blood dripped from his temple, down his reddened, battered cheek to fall off his jaw– the sight of it made you feel sick. To the other side of Toji’s face, Jinichi gave him a matching wound, then stood back to assess his work.

He twirled the cane with a precise, practiced move, gruffly offering, “I’ll make it quick if you just confess.”

With the back of his hand, Toji wiped away the blood that had dripped into his eye, smearing it down his face. “We’ve been brothers for ten years now. How long do you think that lie is going to work on me?” 

His brother didn’t respond and instead swung the cane for his side, hitting his target with a loud cracking sound. The noise that left Toji was painful, calling to you like a cry for help, yet you were frozen. Never in your life had you witnessed such violence. You gripped the fence just a bit tighter, noticing then how shaky your hands were.

Toji rolled onto his stomach, curling into himself to protect his injury, but in doing so, he was risking his back to an attack. When Jinichi took the opportunity, whipping the cane across his spine, you had to bite your own tongue to stop from making a noise. The boy fell flat on his front with a cry of agony, sobbing, “I didn’t do it, Jinichi. I haven’t been in your room since the last time you caught me, I swear.”

“I don’t believe you,” his brother insisted, taking the cane to his back again, and then once more. A redness began seeping into the white yukata Toji wore. “Uncle Ogi wouldn’t lie-”

“Uncle Ogi,” Toji began, voice lifting a few decibels, “does whatever the hell he wants to keep himself entertained, and if you think for one second that doesn’t apply to you, then you’re an idiot.”

Even you knew that for a boy in Toji’s position, saying something like that wasn’t the right move. Unsurprisingly, it earned him three more lashes before his brother managed to snap the cane in half. While the boy writhed on the ground, Jinichi inspected the jagged end of the broken wood, contemplating something before tossing it away, only to bend down and grab Toji by the back of his yukata.

The boy groaned in pain, pleading for him to stop, and fighting against Jinichi with what strength he had left, which wasn’t much. He dragged him across the yard, ripping up what flowers hadn’t been destroyed during their chase, and dropped him on the edge of the koi pond. 

If you felt sick before just to see them fighting, it was nothing compared to the churning in your stomach to see his brother step over Toji’s body and stand above him. All too quickly, Jinichi guided Toji’s head to the water and held him under. He fought against his brother, digging his nails into his ankles to draw blood, yet Jinichi never stopped. 

If he kept going, Toji would surely die.

Somehow, some way, you defied your own fear in that moment, and in the next, your hands were pushing at Jinichi’s back with such a force that he toppled forward, into the pond. How you managed to cross the field so quickly, you weren’t sure– running was never your strong suit, but then again, you’d never tried while hopped up on so much adrenaline.

You lowered yourself beside Toji, careful not to touch his back or move him in a way that might cause him pain. Though, really, it wouldn’t have mattered after the beating he had taken. Deeming his shoulders safe, you grabbed him there, helping to bring him off the ground until he could balance himself on shaky arms.

Jinichi broke the surface of the pond while Toji worked on catching his breath, keeping his head cast down as the water droplets fell from soaked tufts of his black hair. The clear water took on a reddish hue as it rinsed the blood from his face. He spat out what collected in his mouth, heaving in deep breaths. 

“Didn’t go in your room,” he muttered, spitting out more bloody water. You assumed he thought you to be his brother, hence his rambling, but Jinichi was actually standing on the other side of the pond, staring at you with a bewildered expression. “Ogi is a liar. Not me.”

You reached down, placing your hand over the back of his own. “I believe you.” 

The heavy breathing stalled instantly, Toji going stalk still when he heard your voice– one that doesn’t sound like his brother’s at all. Clearly, you had startled him, but that was something you could apologize for later, after you dealt with the Zenin across the pond, who had yet to move. 

“You could have killed him, you know? What is the matter with you?” you snapped with enough bite that Jinichi flinched and took a step back. Then another, and another, until he fully turned around to run into the house. You watched him go with a disapproving shake of your head before giving your attention to the one who needed it the most. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond to you, but he did move, shakily pulling his hand out from beneath yours. When he pressed it into the dirt, he tried to push himself to stand. He stumbled around a bit, but managed it eventually. There were a few seconds when you both were unmoving, still reeling and trying to adjust to what just happened.

Then, Toji spoke. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You stood, too, taking a moment to dust off your yukata and smooth it out straight. “I know, but he was hurting you.”

He never once spared you a glance, keeping his eyes cast away as he moved on the same path as his brother. The most you received from the interaction was a few words that sounded a lot like a threat.

“You should leave before they hurt you, too.”

You took a few hurried steps toward him, latching onto his wrist to make him stop. “But what about you. Your back is-”

“I know you like to watch us,” he interjected, shaking off your touch. “You sit on the fence. You think no one can see you through the branches, but I can. So I know that you know what happens to girls here.”

Only then did you start to feel scared. After all, you had just been caught. If your parents found out, they’d be pissed, but worse was whatever the notorious Zenins might do to you for such an offense.

With nothing else to say, nothing for you to deny, you apologized. 

“I’m sorry.” It came out as a whisper, barely loud enough for you to even hear it. “Please, don’t tell anyone.”

Sensing your fear, Toji turned around. He didn’t smile, his face seemingly stuck in a flat expression, but the look in his eyes changed. It was a subtle difference, but one that you noticed. Toji blinked a few times before saying, “I don’t mind. You’re not hurting anything. Besides, I know what it’s like to be somewhere you’re not supposed to be. I go into my brother’s room all the time.”

A quiet gasp passed your lips, causing a smile to form on Toji’s mouth. You could tell that with the amount of pain he was in, it was forced, but it was a smile nonetheless.

“As long as you don’t tell on me, I won’t tell on you. Okay?”

You swallowed thickly, giving a firm, singular nod. “Okay.”

Slowly, his smile fell. “You should go now.”

“But what about your back? It’s bad– you’re bleeding-”

“I’ll be fine. They’re nothing but a few scratches.”

But they weren’t just a few scratches; they were deep, seeping wounds that Toji felt throb in time with his heartbeat while he watched you walk away, making sure you made it back between the cedar trees before letting go of the pained whimpers he had been holding back. The boy stumbled into the home before being swept up by one of the attendants to have his injuries assessed. Just as the woman finished cleaning the wound, the shoji door slammed open to allow Ogi to enter.

He didn’t speak– neither of them did. It wasn’t needed, for they both knew what was in store for Toji. He wasn’t only in trouble for his fight with his brother, but also for letting you walk away. While he had talked with you, he felt their eyes stabbing into his back, waiting for Toji to make the right move, yet he didn’t. 

And for that, he would be punished along with you, though you weren’t aware of that yet.

“What did you do?” your mother hissed quietly, dragging you out of your room and into the living area, which you noticed was taken up by a few familiar faces– Zenins, to be exact. 

Jinichi sat between two men, stoic, just as you remembered him to be. The one on his left, Ogi, and the one on his right was someone you’d never seen before. Though with a mustache like that, you doubted that you’d ever be able to forget him. Naobito was his name, as you had soon learned just after your mother forced you into a deep, respectful bow.

The conversation didn’t come as a surprise to you; you had screwed up, got caught by this powerful family, and were now about to reap the consequences of your actions. However, the action they were accusing you of wasn’t trespassing, as you had assumed it to be. Instead, it was something they must’ve manifested in their minds. In other words, it was a lie.

“It seems there was an altercation a few days ago. Your child stepped onto our property and tried to drown our Jinichi,” Ogi spat, earning the room two horrified gasps from your parents.

Unable to help yourself, you were quick to argue, “I never did that!”

“You didn’t push him into the koi pond?” A tense silence fell over the room as you slumped back down, trying to come up with something to defend yourself, yet you had nothing. You had, in fact, pushed the boy into the pond, though you weren’t trying to drown him. 

You brokenly sputtered, “H-He was the one trying to drown someone. He held Toji’s head under the water-”

“Why would he do that to his own brother, hm? Jinichi, you love Toji-kun, don’t you?”

“Very much,” Jinichi replied, meeting your stare unyieldingly. “I would never try to hurt my own flesh and blood.”

“Then why did you whip his back with that cane? You made him bleed.”

It didn’t matter what you said; no one believed you, not even your parents. They brushed it off on you, spending too much time in the sun that day, confusing brotherly roughhousing for an attack, but you knew better.

Your parents promised them that a proper punishment would be doled out, and the Zenins warned them against letting you wander too far again, for they wouldn’t be so lenient next time. You were spanked for your crimes that night, sent to bed with a sore behind and an empty stomach, with a long list of chores for you to complete the next day.

You gave it a few months before curiosity got the better of you and led you back up the hill toward the gardens of the Zenin property, only this time, there was a tall privacy fence in place. You paced the perimeter of it, running your fingers along the sturdy, wooden grooves until boredom struck, and you retreated back to your own home.

Months continued, turning into years. 

Sometimes you’d venture up the hill just to have a walk through the woods when you needed to clear your mind. And sometimes you found yourself lingering a little too long near the fence, just listening to what went on on the other side. Maybe that was creepy, but as always, you were just curious. You lived so close to the Zenins– everyone in the area knew them, everyone talked about them, and you were lucky enough to be within walking distance of their home.

Besides, what else was there to do? Your little farmhouse could only keep you entertained for so long, and it had since run out of inspiration– about ten years ago, actually. Life in your childhood home was boring, stale, so… dull. So, yes, you indulged your curiosities every once in a while, prying into the lavish life of the Zenins, even if it would end up getting you in trouble.

Autumn had struck, the leaves were dying, but the sun reflecting off of them cast an orange hue in the air. All life had been stunted, it seemed, save for the green moss growing on the wooden fence. You ran your finger over it, picking off some sprigs and letting them sprinkle to the ground. The wind carried a chill, rustling the dead leaves, but the scent it brought was a nice one. You wondered if the city smelled just like this, and you found yourself hoping it did, for it would be the only thing you’d miss about your home if you ever moved away.

You ventured further away that day, straying too far from the normal path, which you would need to take to get home. The distance made you feel a little giddy, and the uncharted territory felt fun. You wondered why you hadn’t done it sooner, until you were reminded of why– staying on the normal path ensured a quick escape back to your home, should you ever get caught stalking the Zenin’s property again.

And, unfortunately, you had just been caught. You were sure of it the second you locked stares with familiar green eyes that were perched at the very top of the fence. While yours widened in shock, his remained the same– dull, almost lifeless, yet you knew he was seeing you because they followed your movements, unblinkingly.

You weren’t sure what to say as you looked up at him, wondering how he took on such a relaxed, nonchalant position while balancing on top of a tall privacy fence. It scaled taller than your own house and would definitely ensure a few broken bones if you were to fall, though he seemed to be at ease.

“You usually don’t come down this far,” he said, breaking the silence with a voice that was far deeper than you remembered. Granted, it’s been years, so you suppose it checks out.

“You were watching me?”

“Only sometimes,” he offered with a shrug, standing to his feet on top of the fence.

“Hey,” you gasped, “be careful!” 

But he was already moving, jumping from the top of the fence and catching himself on a thick branch of a tree. He let himself dangle there for a moment before dropping to his feet, landing with grace right in front of you. And as he stood to his full height, you were made aware that his voice was not the only thing that changed about him, but his body, too; most notably, a wicked scar on his upper lip. Part of you wanted to ask about its origins, but another part of you knew better than to pry for that information– it seemed personal.

“That’s really dangerous! A fall from that height could have broken a bone!”

“But I caught myself on the tree,” he argued playfully.

“And if you hadn’t?”

He glanced up at the fence, gauging its height before shrugging. “I’d reckon I’d still be fine. I’ve fallen from higher places.”

You held a chastising finger at him, muttering, “That’s bad. Very bad.”

“M’not a dog, so don’t scold me like one.” He rolled his eyes, though he didn’t sound too irritated. “Anyway, what are you still doing coming up here? Ain’t you tired of looking at the same old fence yet?”

“No. The area is nice and peaceful.”

“And it isn’t nice and peaceful on your own property?”

With a tilt of your head, you asked, “Why does it feel like you’re trying to make me go home?”

“Maybe I just don’t like you being this close to my home. If you were smart, you wouldn’t like being this close either. Especially, after what happened last time.”

“You still remember that?”

“‘Course, I do. And probably just as vividly as you do, too,” he scoffed. “You shouldn’t come this close anymore. You’re just gonna get in trouble again if you get caught.”

You placed a hand on your hip, entirely unthreatened. “Are you going to snitch on me?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh. “No. So long as you stay on your side of the creek from now on, I’ll have no reason to.”

“Hmm…” You dropped your hand from your hip to cross your arms. “Well, I’m not going unless you come with me. I’ll need an escort back.”

“An escort?”

“Yes,” you stated firmly. “As you know, I’ve never been this far from my usual path. Who knows if I’ll be able to find my way back, rather than wandering further onto your property?”

He chuckled, bewildered by your suggestion. “Need me to hold your hand, too?”

“Yes, actually.” You held it out for him to take, making him lose his grin. He eyed your extended palm, watching as you flexed it, wordlessly prompting him to grab it, yet he didn’t. “Come on. We don’t have all day, do we?”

His eyes slid up to meet yours. “But I was only kidding-”

“I wasn’t.”

Toji’s lips parted to spew some kind of excuse, but nothing came out, and his mouth closed, opening once more to bite out, “Fine.” 

Hesitantly, he grabbed your hand, taking it in a tight fist. It wasn’t enough to hurt you, but it did startle you a little, especially when he tugged you to follow him. With a huff, you wrangled him back and forced him to take your hand properly. 

“Never held someone’s hand before or something?” you asked, interlocking your fingers. You let your connected hands fall between you. “There we go. That’s how you do it.” 

When you looked back up, he was glaring down at your hands, confused more than angry. And when he started pulling you away again, you didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears were starting to turn red.

“You want to be friends?” Toji questioned you one night, brows furrowing deeply as he pointed to himself. “With me?”

You frowned, thinking back on the week you both had, where you’d meet every evening at the creek to hang out, wondering if you’d read the situation incorrectly– weren’t you two getting along? Or was he really just coming here out of some obligation? 

“Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with you? You’re cool.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course, I do.”

His confusion was palpable as he questioned again, “Really?”

You scoffed and reached over to flick his cheek. He reeled away with a surprised hiss, rubbing the growing red mark. “You’re cool, Toji. How many times do I have to say it?”

His hand went still on his face as he stared at you, probably trying to figure out if you were being genuine or not. Finally, he dropped his hand. “Okay. Yeah, sure. We can be friends. If you want.”

When silence ensued, inching toward something awkward, you reached forward and poked his cheek. “Hey. Don’t be all weird now. That’s not cool at all.”

With a smushed cheek, he mumbled, “I’m not being weird.”

“Swear?”

“Swear.”

“Good.” You dropped your hand with a satisfied smile and relaxed back on the ground, closing your eyes and paying no mind to the crunch of the leaves below your head. “Lay down, too.”

You didn’t see him move, but you heard the leaves crunch as he relaxed beside you, just close enough to barely brush your shoulders together.

After a few minutes of quiet autumn breezes, he asked, “You really think I’m cool?”

“Toji, the fact that you keep asking is making it weird.”

In only a few months, the two of you had grown close. No longer were you two just friends; you were best friends. 

Even as the season chilled into winter, you two would still frequently meet at the creek, though when the snow started falling, your hangouts were often cut short due to the cold, and sometimes, you didn’t meet at all. 

But that was fine; you missed him, of course, but you knew that he didn’t want you trekking through the snow, just like you didn’t want him to do that either.

Toward the end of that year, a winter storm blew in. He told you the week before it happened that you shouldn’t meet at the creek. And you agreed with him, with the exception being the evening of his birthday, of course. He implored that it was fine, that you didn’t need to risk your health and safety for such a stupid reason, but you insisted, and finally, he relented. Toji promised to meet you out there on his birthday.

Yet, as you stood at the creek on the 31st of December, bundled up and shivering, you realized Toji might’ve forgotten– which was fine. It was his 16th birthday, after all, and he was probably busy with family obligations. 

Okay, it hurt a little bit that he forgot, but you tried your best not to let it get to you. You only wanted to give him the gift you made for him– granted, it was a silly gift, but you thought he’d appreciate it.

But it was fine. You could always give it to him another time.

You retreated back to your house, stopping just inside the door to peel your many layers off. You snuck past the living room, where your parents were bringing in the new year with their friends, playing card games, drinking, eating, laughing. You crossed your fingers, hoping they didn’t stop to ask why you were back so soon. As far as they were concerned, you were going out with a friend– a friend who was a girl you met at school, and not an infamous Zenin boy, who you were forbidden from talking to.

Once you made it to your room undetected, you changed into your pajamas, turned on quiet music, and started working on the project you left behind a few hours ago: a half-knitted sweater. Well, half was an overstatement; you’d barely finished one of the sleeves. Knitting wasn’t your strong suit, and it wasn’t all that fun, but it kept your hands busy.

Entirely immersed in your work, you were almost dead to the world, which is why when your bedroom window was abruptly pushed open, you screamed– 

Until you realized it was only Toji, with a finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. Quickly, you slapped your hand over your mouth, and your other over your racing heart. You both stayed silent, listening for your parents' concerned questions, but the loud chatter of them with their friends let you know they hadn’t heard a thing. 

Only then did you speak, and it was to harshly whisper, “Jesus! You scared me!”

“I was throwing pebbles at your window for five minutes. Should’ve known you were… knitting?” He waved a confused hand at the mess of tan yarn in your lap. “Since when have you known how to do that?”

“Since two weeks ago, but that’s not important. What are you doing here?”

He drew his eyes away from your lap. “You didn’t wait for me at the creek.”

“I did. For two hours. Figured you were busy with your party or something, but it’s no big deal. You didn’t have to come all the way down here on your birthday. I could’ve given you your gift later.” You placed your yarn and knitting needles aside to slide off your bed and retrieve his present. 

When you stood in front of him, holding a small box behind your back, he eyed you suspiciously. “You got me a gift?”

“Of course, I got you a gift. It’s your birthday. Now, close your eyes.” He cocked a brow, hesitating until you snapped, “Close them. Now.”

And he did.

Once you placed the gift box in his hand, you added, “It’s nothing crazy. You might even think it’s stupid-”

“What? No, I– shut up, you didn’t-” Your brows furrowed, and he instantly backpedaled. “Sorry. Don’t shut up. That’s not– I just-”

“Open the damn box, Toji.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled the lid away, placing it on your nightstand before reaching in to grab the gift. Between his two fingers, he held up the woven tendril of green strands, inspecting it with a frown. “A bracelet?”

You nodded and held up your own wrist, displaying the one you made for yourself. “A friendship bracelet.”

“Oh,” he murmured, still looking it over with curiosity. 

Your stomach started to churn with nerves, which led to you blurting out, “I told you it wasn’t anything crazy, I said it was stupid-” His eyes flicked to yours, widening just enough as you continued, “You’re probably used to the fancy stuff– gold and silver and diamonds, which is fine. I mean, your family is loaded, so that’s to be expected. Just give that back, I’m sorry-”

When you went to grab it, he jerked it out of your reach. “No way. It’s mine.”

“It’s stupid, Toji.”

“It’s not stupid at all. It’s cool.” You slowly dropped your hands. “I’ve never had a friendship bracelet before; no one has ever… you really made this for me?”

“Well, yeah. And for me, too.” His eyes slid to your wrist, and he took your hand, bringing you closer so he could look at yours, too. The contact brought warmth to your face. “You like them?”

“Mhm, I do. You did a good job on them.”

“Thank you.” The warmth on your face only got hotter, but the praise was nice. “Do you want me to help you put yours on? They can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

He lowered your hand back to your side and handed his bracelet to you, offering you his wrist next. After securing it, you glanced at his face, taking note of the small smile that was on his mouth as he ran his finger over the woven pattern.

“Thank you. For the gift.”

The slight nervousness in your chest faded, and you smiled, too. “You’re welcome! I was really hoping you’d like it! I wasn’t sure what else to get you. I know you probably have everything you could ever want already.”

“...almost everything.”

“Hm?” 

You tilted your head in question, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he glanced at the clock on your nightstand, then looked back at you. 

“My family is doing fireworks for the New Year.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement. “I love fireworks!”

“Wanna go watch them?” he asked. “The roof would be the perfect spot.”

“The roof? Like, the roof of my house?” When he nodded, you asked, “How are we supposed to get up there?” 

He slipped out of his coat, handing it to you, then moved toward the open window. As you slid your arms into the warmth, sufficiently wrapping yourself up in it, he inched outside, far enough that it worried you. 

“Hey, Toji, that’s not safe. You could fall-”

But your warning was too late. He somehow managed to pull himself off the windowsill using the gutter of your house, and then proceeded to defy gravity by vaulting onto the roof. Naturally, you were concerned and rushed over to the window, only when you peered up at the roof, he leaned over the edge and offered you his hand.

“You’re insane if you think I’m doing that.”

“Come on,” he tutted teasingly. “Don’t be a chicken.”

“You could drop me.”

“I swear, I won’t. And if I do, I’d be down there to catch you before you hit the ground.”

Your eyes widened, head shaking in disbelief. “What? You think you’re a superhero, or something?”

He snorted. “Definitely not, but I trust myself enough not to let you fall.”

“You can trust yourself all you want, but I’m the one who needs to trust you right now. And I definitely do not.”

He clicked his tongue. “You should.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you mean a lot to me, and I’d never suggest anything that would get you hurt.” You stared at his hand again, watching him flex it open. “Come on. You made me a friendship bracelet and everything. You have to trust me at least a little bit, right?”

“Toji-”

“And it’s my birthday, so you kinda have to do everything I say.”

Your lips pressed into a flat line as you eyed the distance from your window to the ground.

“Damn you.” 

With a groan, you grabbed his hand, squeezed your eyes shut, and braced for the ground, but the fall didn’t come; Toji lifted you onto the roof as if you weighed nothing, letting you stumble right onto his lap. You gripped the fabric on his shoulders, peering behind you and over the edge of the roof– such a long way down. 

“You’re very bold, you know that?”

He chuckled and pulled you off his lap, placing you beside him. “One day, you’ll finally trust me.”

“Maybe so, but that day is not today. You’ll have to prove yourself a few more times.” You moved closer to his side, noticing his thin, long-sleeved shirt. “Hey, aren’t you cold?”

“I’m fine, really-” You slid back onto his lap, sitting back toward his knees so it wasn’t entirely inappropriate. “Really, I’m not-”

“Do you want to catch a cold? No, you don’t. So put your arms in here.” You opened the jacket, shivering as the cold air chilled you through your pajamas. “Hurry before all the warm air gets out.”

Sounding flustered, he muttered, “Where am I supposed to-” You grabbed his arms, led them inside the jacket, and wrapped them around your waist. “Oh.”

“Isn’t that better?”

You heard him swallow before humming, “Mhm.” 

He relaxed into your touch after a few moments and even pulled you forward to get closer. Despite your initial thoughts, straddling his lap this closely didn’t feel inappropriate at all. It felt comforting and safe, like you wouldn’t mind staying there for the rest of your life.

The fireworks started a little while later, lighting up the sky with bright flashes of vibrant colors. Both of you watched them in contented silence– it was nice. Really nice, even.

“You know, these are really good fireworks, but have you seen the ones they do in Osaka. For the summer festival?”

“No. Have you?”

You giggled, “No, but I saw them on TV last year. They’re super cool. We should go sometime.”

Through the sound of the distant explosions, you heard your parents and their friends count down from ten, and when the clock hit midnight, you didn’t hesitate to press your lips to Toji’s cheek. It wasn’t much, a gentle peck at most, but it was something that meant so much to both of you. 

Though at the time, neither of you was truly aware of the significance.

“Happy New Year,” you whispered when you pulled back to rest your cheek on his shoulder.

You weren’t sure if he said it back. 

If he did, you definitely couldn’t hear it over the sound of the blood rushing through your head.

Toji moved off the Zenin property a few months after he turned 18. He came to see you when he could, but after being cut off from his family’s funds, he was stuck working a few part-time jobs, barely giving him any time off. You pretended it didn’t bother you too badly, but the reality of it was that without Toji there to keep you company, the place felt small and lonely. You were going stir-crazy, and the subtle comments from your parents, suggesting that you look for a place, were grating on your nerves. 

Which is why when Toji came to pick you up the night of your 18th birthday, you slumped down in his car with a box of items. He eyed them suspiciously, gaze flicking to you and your pleading look. Hesitantly, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Mind if I stay with you for a few days?”

He blinked a few times, inhaling deeply to ask, “Um, like… starting tonight?” He worried his bottom lip between his teeth when you nodded. “I’ve only got one bedroom. And it’s not on the nice side of town either.”

“Toji, if you don’t want me to stay, just say so-”

“No! That’s not it,” he rushed to say, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s just that… it’s kind of a shitty place, and I’m messy, and you’re not gonna like it.”

Catching sight of his reddening cheeks, you offered a soft smile. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It can’t be that bad. Besides, it’s just for a few days. I trust you to take care of me for a few days. And since it’s a one-bedroom, I can take the couch.”

“Well, I don’t have a couch. When I left the estate, I only brought a few changes of clothes, and the new place didn’t come furnished.”

“So, where do you sleep?”

The answer to that question: the fucking floor.

“Toji,” you sighed, taking a look around the bare space that was somehow messy, despite being almost empty. “You couldn’t have grabbed a futon before you left the estate?”

“Was kinda in a rush,” he sheepishly said. “Figured I’d get whatever I needed when I had time, but… sort of short on that, too. Plus, s’not like anyone else lives with me anyway, so it doesn’t bother me.” When you cast him a cool look, he winced. “Well, it bothers me now that you’re here.”

You let your eyes slip around the room. A dirty old rug, a basket of unfolded clothes, a foldable, metal chair, a scratched-up side table he probably picked up for free on the side of the road, and a gun– wait- 

“What is that for?!” You pointed at the weapon, and Toji followed your direction until he, too, spotted it. Quickly, he grabbed the gun and slipped it behind him, tucking it into his waistband as if that would magically erase the last two seconds from your mind. “Toji.”

“What? It’s a bad part of town, I told you already.”

“So, you have a gun, to do what with? Shoot people?”

He blinked a few times, lips parting in surprise before he forced them closed, throat bobbing as he swallowed. “No. I would never.” He eyed your unimpressed glare, offering up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “I swear.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, frown deepening before you dismissed it, muttering, “You better not. It would piss me off.” 

Toji let out a sigh of relief and moved aside, letting you venture deeper into the apartment. He let you explore, not that there was much of that to be done anyway. You found the bathroom– small and dingy– the kitchen was just the same. And when you were finished, you stood in front of him again, hand on your hip. 

“You were right. This place is shitty.” You gave the room another glance. “I’m not leaving until it’s at least somewhat suitable.”

“What?”

“What?” you countered, directing your stare at him. “You can’t live like this.”

“Yes, I can. I’ve been doing it for months now.”

“Well, I can’t live like this,” you argued, catching the way confusion flickered in his eyes. 

“You?”

“Me.” With a lazy wave of your hand, you explained, “My parents not-so-subtly suggested that I move out.”

Toji’s face slackened. “They kicked you out.”

“No, they suggested it was time for me to get my own place since I’m an adult now, so I thought I’d stay with you until I find an apartment. Just a few days.”

Toji cocked a brow. “You think you’re going to find a nice apartment to move into in just a few days?” When you nodded, he asked, “With what money?” With pursed lips, you shrugged, bringing him to sigh, “You’re not going to find a place in just a few days with no money.”

“Why not? You did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t? We’re in your apartment right now-” It clicked for you then. “This isn’t your apartment, is it?”

“It is.” He swallowed. “Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

He chewed on his bottom lip. “Well, not officially.”

“You’re squatting here,” you surmised, making him wince again.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t the most ideal situation, but you couldn’t be mad at Toji for it. It wasn’t like he expected you to throw yourself and all of your problems into his lap. However, that didn’t mean you could continue letting him live this way, squatting or not.

You let out a huff and rubbed at your eyes, feeling tired already. “Okay. It’s fine. We can just… figure it out tomorrow.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. You need a place to live– a real place that is your own– and so do I, so we can start looking tomorrow. Or better yet, I can start looking tomorrow, since you’re keen on living in squalor. But once I find a place, you’re moving in with me. No more of… this.” You motioned to the space around you. “Now, is there anything else you wanna tell me? You’re technically homeless, are you jobless, too?”

“No. I… work.”

His tone was hesitant– less than trustworthy now that you’ve seen all of this.

“Is it ethical?” He didn’t answer, but he did look guilty, and you had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. “Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay,” you sighed again. “Last question, do you have enough money to buy dinner? I’m broke.”

You moved into a new apartment only a few weeks after leaving your house. It wasn’t much better than the previous place, but at least it was in a better part of town.

You quickly found out that living with Toji wasn’t bad at all. You both respected each other’s privacy and kept communication open to voice concerns about your living arrangement. When you had friends over, you made sure to keep out of Toji’s way, and he kept out of yours. However, he never brought people over– you suspected he didn’t have any friends other than you, but there were a few times you overheard him talking on the phone to someone named Shiu.

The bills were split equally, with you handing over your share to Toji, so he could pay them off with the landlord. At first, your friend insisted that he could cover the expenses, but you wouldn’t let that slide– you couldn’t just live with him and not contribute; this was a shared space.

You each had your own bedroom, which was sort of a moot point, as Toji so rarely slept in his room, often opting to crash on the couch when he’d come back from work instead. He usually stayed out all night and slept all day, and while that concerned you, you didn’t bring up what his job consisted of again– ignorance is bliss, and all that.

Well, as it turns out, ignorance is bliss until you’re forced to see first-hand the very thing you’d been turning a blind eye to.

You had left work early that day, not feeling the greatest after having just gotten over a cold. You attempted to tough it out since your job wasn’t really grueling at all– the little antique shop didn’t get that much business, which left you sitting at the counter, bored out of your mind as you worked through your puzzle book. But after listening to you sniffle and groan one too many times, your boss sent you home with strict orders to rest up.

With a headache pounding behind your eyes and a grumbling stomach that was practically begging for something warm, you relented. Miso soup, a bit of knitting, and a nap sounded heavenly. But when you stepped into your apartment, you quickly realized that a relaxing afternoon was not in store for you. 

The first clue was the trail of red droplets staining your rug, leading you toward the kitchen. The next clue was the bloodied wrap and towels lying on the floor, and next, pieces from the first aid kit strewn across the counter, as if someone had messily searched for what they needed and left the mess behind.

You weren’t dumb. You knew what all of this was, what it meant, and who had caused it. And all of that was proved correct when you found him in the bathroom, standing and leaning back against the sink, shirt pulled up his torso and held secure in his mouth, as he sewed up the large, seeping gash in his abdomen. 

Time froze for a moment.

You stared at him; he stared back. Both of you were equally as shocked as the other.

And then he opened his mouth, his shirt falling to cover the wound as he broke the silence to ask, “What are you doing here?”

“I– um…” You continued to stare at his torso, even if you couldn’t see the marred skin anymore. “Came home early. Wasn’t feeling well.” You raised a shaky hand, pointing at his abdomen. “What happened?”

“Just had a little accident. Nothing to worry about.”

Your bottom lip quivered from the stress. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Not lying, it’s really nothing.” The guilt on his face only worsened. “Please, don’t cry. I’m fine-”

“You’re bleeding.” 

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I swear-”

Neither of you had realized you crossed the bathroom until you stood right in front of him, holding a tight hand over his mouth to make him shut up. His eyes widened, but he didn’t try to push you away. With your other hand, you pulled his shirt back up to inspect the wound.

“Wh-Who did that to you?” You removed your hand so he could answer, yet the most you got was a choked-back groan. “Answer me-”

“I don’t know. You think he gave me his name before he shoved a knife in my side?”

You felt tears roll down your cheeks when you blinked, which Toji wiped away with his knuckle, muttering, “It’s okay. Really.”

“It’s not-”

“It is,” he insisted, pulling his shirt out of your hand to cover the wound again. “Trust me. Please.”

Doing so was a mistake– you knew that. 

But you couldn’t help it. You did trust him.

So, when he asked you to forget about it, when he told you that it wouldn’t happen again, you believed him.

You trusted his promise to you, knowing that it was empty.

You knew that it would happen again, but you also knew that when the next time came around, you wouldn’t be there to see it. 

Toji would make sure of it.

“How’d you get that scar on your lip?” you asked him one evening after years of wanting to know its backstory. Originally, you thought it might be too personal, but with a few drinks in your system, the question came out easily. 

Thankfully, Toji didn’t seem to mind it either. He nursed his nth beer bottle in one hand, the other resting behind you on the back of the couch as you both watched some stupid TV show you’d heard about from your friends. Without taking his eyes off the screen, he answered, “I tripped and fell. Smacked my face off the wall.”

“Mm. Seems pretty tame compared to the other scars on your body. I thought that one would be more… significant, you know?”

“Significant…” he mused, leaning forward to set his bottle on the coffee table, dragging back with him a new one. “I think you mean dramatic.”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

As he twisted off the bottle cap, he chuckled. “Okay. What if I said that my family threw me into this special room? And that this room was filled with things that want to hurt you, but they’re invisible.”

“Like ghosts?”

“Mhm, like ghosts. And what if I said that these ghosts are how I got this scar? Would that be significant and dramatic enough for you?”

Your nose crinkled. “That would be too much, actually. Ghosts aren’t real. And your family sucks, but… they’re not that cruel, are they?”

He snorted. “You tell me. You stalked our backyard for years.”

“Yeah, but I never saw anyone get dragged into any haunted dungeon.”

“Right,” he mused, bringing the bottle to his lips. “A haunted dungeon isn’t very realistic. The walking into a wall thing makes way more sense.”

You squinted at him as if that would help decipher what he was trying to say. “You’re being weird tonight.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You leaned into his side, soaking up the warmth. 

Minutes later, his arm inched off the back of the couch to rest over your shoulders. When his arm dipped lower behind you, his hand splayed against your waist, you tried to pretend like it didn’t bother you much.

But the reality of it left you with heated cheeks and a heartbeat that was too fast to be normal.

It was only in this moment that you realized the feelings you harbored for your friend strayed far past platonic.

The revelation of your new feelings was nearly debilitating. No longer could you talk to Toji for longer than five minutes without stuttering over your words or blushing like an idiot. If he noticed, he never pointed it out– thankfully, and in turn, you never pointed out when he was flustered either, which happened more often than you’d think. It used to be over the little things, like a simple hug, an accidental touch of hands, or when he’d let you borrow his jacket because you were too stubborn to grab your own, even after he told you it was cold outside. 

But things escalated, much like they always do.

You were running late that morning. All you needed was your work outfit, which you’d forgotten to grab from the dryer before taking your shower because again, you were running late, leaving you in a frazzled state. You did remember your underwear, though– lucky you.

Your washer and dryer unit occupied a small alcove in the hallway beside the bathroom. Depending on where you stood in the kitchen, you would be able to see down the same hallway. 

With this knowledge in mind, you made sure to call Toji’s name before you stepped out of the bathroom, just to make sure he had enough time to cover his eyes. 

When you received no response from him, you hurriedly rushed to the dryer, holding an arm to your bare chest for coverage. Bent at the waist, you filtered through the mess of dried clothes to find your outfit, freezing in place when you heard his sharp intake of air. You stood straight just in time to see him pulling his earbuds from his ears and turning around. 

“Jesus,” Toji breathed, “Warn a guy next time.”

“I called your name.”

“Apparently not fucking loud enough since I just had to see your tits.”

“Oh, like that’s such a bother,” you scoffed, bending over to look for your clothes again.

“It is a bother. It’s going to bother me for the rest of the day now. Maybe even the rest of the week.”

“I had them covered with my hand!”

“Barely!”

You snorted, mumbling, “God, you act as if you’ve never seen boobs before.”

“I haven’t. Not in person anyway, and definitely not yours-”

“Wait.”

“What?”

You slammed the dryer door shut, clothing in your arms, and stood straight to face him, though he couldn’t see you with his back turned to you. “You’ve never seen boobs?”

“Not in person,” he reiterated tersely. “I mean, I used to have this magazine-”

“Stop. I don’t need to know that.”

“Okay, so…”

“Are you a virgin then?”

Redness crept up the back of his neck as he defensively said, “So are you.”

“How do you know?”

“Maybe because we’re from the middle of bumfuck nowhere, so unless you managed to screw one of my cousins without me knowing about it, you’re still a virgin, too.”

“I could’ve brought someone over here, you know? It’s not like you’re here during the night that much anyway. How would you have known?”

Toji’s shoulders tensed.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel like arguing anymore. It was stupid to begin with. Now, you were just poking the bear and wasting time when you’re already late for work.

Lowly, he asked, “Have you had someone over?”

“No. Not for that.”

“Good. Don’t. Ever.”

Your frowned. “Why not?”

“Because this is our apartment, meaning it’s my place just as much as it’s yours. How would you like it if I brought over a woman you didn’t know, and I didn’t run it past you first?”

“I don’t know.” 

You hated the idea, actually. Loathed it, even.

“Okay, well, I do know that if I catch some man in here, it’s going to piss me off. So, just… just tell me, or something. I’ll make sure I’m not here, and you can let me know when he’s gone.”

“Or we could just-” 

You cut yourself off before that word vomit could spew from your mouth. But the beginning part was already out there. Toji heard you.

“We could just, what?”

Fuck. We could just fuck. Each other. Together.

But you were smart enough to know why saying that would be idiotic.

“Nothing! I didn’t mean to say that! And I’m late for work! So, I have to finish getting ready!”

You trapped yourself in the bathroom after that, making sure that you heard Toji’s bedroom door shut before even thinking of leaving for work for the day. You had wasted an extra half hour in the bathroom, so by the time you made it to work, almost an hour late, to say your boss was less than enthused would be an understatement.

The realization of your crush on Toji, paired with the acknowledgement of just how attractive this man was, was a lethal combination for your sanity. You tried your best not to let it bother you, and for the most part, you had succeeded. But there were moments where you couldn’t help it– you would end up flustered beyond the normal amount, and having him watch you stutter your way through some half-assed explanation as to why you were suddenly going shy on him only made it worse. 

Thankfully, he never picked on you for it– not excessively, at least. Most of the time, it was a subtle acknowledgement that he noticed you acting timid, and then he’d allow you to escape from the situation with the small bits of your dignity that you had left– a simple kindness, really. It was the least he could do, or so you thought. 

However, there were times when your friend wasn’t feeling very merciful at all.

You had been sitting on the couch, knitting away with a blank mind, when you heard him call out your name from the hallway.

“Yeah?” you responded, not even looking up from your knitting needles.

“Remember that shirt I let you borrow last week?”

 One of his work shirts that you had taken to sleep in that night. You were feeling bloated, and your tight pajamas weren’t the least bit comfortable.

“Uh huh.”

“And do you remember when I said not to dry it?”

Your hands went still as you thought back on the interaction you’d had with him a few days ago– did he tell you not to dry the shirt?

“Uhh-” You looked up when a shadow fell over you, wide eyes settling on Toji’s exposed abdomen, which the shirt– the very tight, very small shirt– didn’t cover. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he retorted. “You ruined it.”

“Ruined? I wouldn’t say that.” When you finally managed to drag your eyes up to his face, you were met with an amused look. It was only then that you realized your mistake– openly checking out your best friend. It brought a scorching heat to your face. “That’s not– I didn’t– what I meant– I just-”

No mercy wasn’t granted then. 

Toji let you stutter it out, watching you nearly combust in front of him with a grin on his face.

You just barely managed to collect yourself enough to choke out, “It doesn’t look bad. Really. It’s… fine.”

“Just fine?” he pried for more, knowing you were too embarrassed to realize it for yourself. 

“It’s good. Really good. Great, even.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Yeah.” You swallowed thickly and forced your shaky hands to start knitting again. 

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe I should just wear it to work then. Since it’s not as bad as I think it is.”

“Oh, you should. You definitely should.”

You pretended you didn’t hear his quiet laughter as he grabbed his zip-up hoodie from the front door. He slid on his shoes and grabbed his keys.

“I’ll be back later than usual. Probably after midnight.”

“Mhm. Okay.”

“You know who to call if you need me, right?”

“For sure.” 

You heard his laughter one last time before he stepped out the door, closing it behind him. Once you were alone, you dropped your knitting needles and covered your face, letting the mortification creep in while muttering, “Oh, my god,” into your palms.

You weren’t the only one getting flustered in that apartment. Toji had his fair share of moments, too, and you ate each one up like it was candy. 

Like the time you were cutting his hair and flashed your chest on accident.

Or the time when you were bent over in the kitchen, cleaning out one of the lower cabinets, and he happened to walk in behind you.

Or when the electricity in your apartment had cut out during winter, and you asked for cuddles to keep yourself warm.

All of these moments were innocent– mostly innocent, at least.

The only time it wasn’t completely innocent was the day you asked to kiss him.

It was out of the blue, a spur-of-the-moment type of deal– you were feeling impulsive and curious, and Toji was just there, oblivious to the thoughts going through your head as you approached him in the kitchen. 

With a light tap on his shoulder, he briefly glanced back at you and smiled before returning to the task of restocking the first-aid kit– something that happened quite frequently. 

“Need something?”

“Possibly.”

He hummed, “Well, if it’s a plain, boring bandage you’re looking for, I hate to disappoint.” He reached into the drug-store bag on the counter, pulling out a box of themed bandages. “They only had pink princess ones, so-”

“I don’t need a bandage.”

“Something from the cabinet then? Just gimme a second, and I’ll move out of your way-”

“Toji.”

Hearing your tone, he paused and then set down the first-aid items to turn and face you. When you stayed quiet, his brows raised in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously.

“Nothing’s wrong. Not yet, anyway. I suppose it depends on how you take this.” Your short explanation seemed to only concern him more. “I just… well, I wanted to talk to you about something. And if you’re not okay with it, that’s completely fine. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, or upset, or– or… ruin our friendship– I don’t want you to hate me, or think I’m weird, or crazy-”

“Did you do something bad?” he interjected, placing a hand on your shoulder. “If you did, it’s okay. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Huh?”

“You look guilty. If you killed someone, just let me know where the body is, and I-”

“Toji, I– no! That’s not-!”

“Then you need someone taken care of? All I need to know is what they look like-”

“No! No one is dead, no one is dying!”

He raised his voice just a little to ask, “Then why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Like what?!”

“Like you need me to do something for you. Whatever it is, I can get it done. You don’t have to be afraid to ask. I won’t be mad at you-”

“A kiss! I was going to ask for a kiss!”

There. It was out in the open for the universe to mock you for. 

You wanted to kiss Toji. 

And now he knew that you wanted to kiss him, too.

The silence that ensued was terrifying.

The bewildered eye contact might’ve been worse.

“I– um…” He laughed nervously. “What?”

You took it back. The silence and eye contact were the least of your worries.

“A kiss, Toji. You kiss me.” You pointed between yourself and him. “Unless you don’t want to-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Well, you didn’t say much of anything, actually.” While you stood there, watching such a redness bloom over his cheeks, you sighed, “I’m only curious. I’m twenty and have no idea what it’s like.” 

“And you think I do?”

“I– no? I guess not. Look, it doesn’t have to mean anything. If you’re saving it for someone else, that’s fine. Just say so. Or if you don’t want to do that with me, I understand. I just thought that since we’re friends, it would be easier to do it together. More comfortable and stuff.”

You watched his throat bob as he swallowed. “No, that uh– that makes sense. We should… do that.”

You smiled, trying your best to be as comforting as possible, but really, you were freaking out on the inside. You’re sure Toji was feeling the same, though he was less subtle about it than you were. 

“Okay. Go on,” you prompted.

“Go on and do what?”

Your face slackened. “Kiss me, stupid.”

“S-Sure.”

You couldn’t remember the last time you heard him stutter– if he’s ever even done it before. You also pretended not to notice him not-so-subtly wipe his palms off on his pants. 

To help, you took the initiative of wrapping your arms around his neck to reel him in closer, letting him almost stumble into you and place his hands on your waist to steady himself. You felt the tips of his fingers sink into your skin, and you swore you could see his heartbeat in his chest.

“You seem nervous,” you lilted, hoping to lighten the mood, but it didn’t. Not for Toji, anyway; he was still just staring at your mouth.

And then, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

You snorted, “Really? I didn’t know.”

His green eyes flicked to yours. “It’s gonna be bad.”

You shrugged. “Probably, but I’m not expecting fireworks or anything, okay? If it’s the worst thing ever, then who cares? It’s not like there’s anyone here besides us, and I’m not going to judge you for a bad kiss. But if it’ll make you feel better, I can close my eyes.”

He nodded, entirely serious. “Okay. Do that.”

“I was joking, Toji.”

“I wasn’t.”

You giggled, “Fine. I’ll close them.”

You felt him lean in closer. You felt the lightest bit of breath brush over your face. You felt his hands tighten on your waist. 

You felt his lips against your cheek.

With a small grin, unable to help yourself, you mumbled, “You needed me to close my eyes for that?”

And then you felt his lips press against your own.

It took you a moment to realize it for yourself, to process that this was it, you were kissing him. And once you came to terms with it, you kissed him back. Soft and slow, timid almost, like you were both too shy to push for something more. 

But that was okay; this pace was perfect. As a matter of fact, the whole thing was perfect.

When you parted from one another, you forced your eyes to open and were lucky enough to witness the deepest blush known to man covering Toji’s face. 

“Oh.” You stifled your laugh behind your hand. “Your cheeks are so red.”

“Shut up,” he groaned, tugging you forward with the hands on your hips, only to press his face into your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” you cooed condescendingly. “No need to be embarrassed.”

“You’re the worst.”

You sighed in content, leaning into him for a sloppy sort of hug. “It was a good kiss, though.”

“Really?”

“Really.” You smiled, though he couldn’t see it. “I liked it a lot.”

“Me, too,” he said quietly, voice muffled in your shoulder. Just barely, he leaned back to ask, “Can I– can we, um… do it again?”

You wrote it off as practice; it’s what kept your friendship intact, to make sure that the kisses, while intimate, would never damage what you already had together. And after a few months, you were certain your plan was flawless. A few pecks here and there– in the morning, before bed, random ones throughout the day if you were feeling confident enough; it was nothing crazy, but it was nice.

The kisses also seemed to be a gateway to be more… touchy-feely. Of course, the touches weren’t inappropriate in the slightest. Cuddling on the couch, leaning into his side in the checkout line at the supermarket, holding his hand as you walked around the block, it was all so innocent. 

The kisses couldn’t change the fact that he was still your best friend.

They could, however, make you question why you two were still only friends after everything you’ve done together, but you didn’t like to think about that part very often. 

You were sprawled out on the couch, legs resting over his thighs as you flipped through the channels. You’d been at it for ten minutes, and you’re sure Toji was getting tired of your indecisiveness. If you were being honest, so were you. With a sigh, you swung your legs off his lap and tossed the remote down beside him. 

“You pick something while I’m gone.”

He clicked his tongue and grabbed your arms as you passed him. “Where are you going?”

“I gotta pee. Let go.”

And he did let go.

Right after tugging you back down onto the couch just to be annoying.

“Ass,” you cursed without any real heat, getting up once more and only making it as far as you did last time before he pulled you back again. This time, he brought you down for a kiss, a quick one.

“I can pick whatever I want?” he asked so nicely, sliding his grip on your arm down to your hand. 

It caught you off guard– the sweetness of it.

“Huh?”

“On TV,” he amended, moving your hand, pressing the tips of his fingers to yours. 

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want.”

“Really?”

He traced the tip of his finger up the inside of your wrist while waiting for your answer. 

“Really.”

The look in his eyes when you said that turned into something smug, knocking you out of your stupor.

You realized your mistake then.

“Wait, no. It’s Saturday.”

“It is Saturday.” Toji grinned and let go of you completely to grab the remote. “Which means the horse races are on all day-”

“No!” you protested, launching over him to grab the remote, forgetting entirely about your full bladder. “Horse racing is sooo boring!”

“Come on now, it’s so cool.”

You writhed in his lap, fighting for the remote that was always just out of reach. “You don’t even bet on them! What’s the point?!”

“I bet on them. Mentally.”

“Oh, my god, you’re twenty-one. Stop acting like such an old man-” 

His movements were always too fast for you. There was no way for you to get the remote out of his hands unless you caught him off guard, which you had learned wasn’t that difficult.

With a hand on his jaw, you angled his face enough to lean forward and kiss him. You didn’t wait to slip your tongue into his mouth the first chance you had, knowing that would only throw him off even more. And your plan worked well. 

Seconds after you kissed him, he was kissing you back, pulling on your waist to situate you over his lap. You let him think you had no other intentions with the kiss, allowing him to slide his hand to your hip and squeeze just enough to feel it. Though he still held onto that remote with his other hand. 

Feeling a bit daring, and maybe curious, too, you rolled your hips forward against his slowly. His mouth went just the slightest bit slack on yours, and he groaned when you moved against him again.

From beside you, you heard the remote hit the couch cushion, followed by his hand settling on your hip, sliding down to guide you to move again. You felt him getting hard between your legs– this was nothing new for you. There were many times when you were simply kissing that you accidentally brushed against it.

This, however, was intentional.

You let him do it again and again until you were sure he was so caught up in you that he forgot about the horse races completely. Once you were certain he was distracted, you pulled back, grabbed the remote, and slid off his lap to stand in front of him.

“No,” he whined, leaning his head back and covering his face with both hands. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair. Especially when your best friend was going to subject you to horse racing torture.”

“It’s interesting! And you promised!”

You clicked your tongue and tossed the remote into his lap. “Fine. But my favorite show comes on at two, and we’re watching it. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels. 

You gave the top of his head a few pats.

“Good boy.”

As you made your way to the bathroom, you didn’t notice the way his face warmed at those two words.

The kissing was good. It was great, even.

But it wasn’t satiating that urge, which left you outrageously horny.

It usually wasn’t an issue. Toji wasn’t there most nights, so you were free to do whatever you needed to without the fear of being overheard.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Toji’s job– whatever that was– didn’t require him at the moment, which meant he'd been there for three days and three nights, giving you no time at all to get the job done yourself. And to top it off, PMS was kicking your ass with the cramps, so there were no orgasms to help with that, nor did you have your heating pad because it finally kicked the bucket.

“I can go get you more pain relievers. It wouldn’t take that long,” Toji offered from the threshold of your room. He had come to check on you after you disappeared just before dinner, finding you on your bed, curled up on your side to hold your stomach.

“It’s fine. They aren’t the worst. They’re just making me tired and nauseous.”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Mm, you can lie down with me. We can take a nap.”

He exhaled a laugh. “Alright.”

Cuddling on the couch wasn’t a new concept. Lying down in a bed together definitely was.

He didn’t even get underneath the blanket, and made sure he kept a couple of inches of distance between you to maintain some friendly boundary. But boundaries be damned– consensually, of course.

“You can come closer if you want to,” you said, looking back at him to see that he was staring at the ceiling, his hands folded on his stomach. “You know I don’t bite.”

“Just… trying to be respectful,” he defended lightly, moving closer until his shoulder brushed your back.

“I appreciate that, but come closer. Like how we do it on the couch.” It took a moment, but you finally felt the bed shift behind you, and then his hand was sliding over your waist, pulling your back to his chest. You let out a sigh, wriggling back to get even closer. “This is nice.”

“Mm, it is.” 

His thumb stroked your waist, right at the bottom hem of your shirt. The sound of his breathing was light, comforting in a way. Had your guts not been trying to rip your insides apart with cramps, you almost could have enjoyed the moment.

When you sucked in a breath on a particularly sharp cramp, the tips of his fingers dug just a bit deeper into your side, a show of his concern. 

It was cute. You appreciated it.

But you wanted more.

Taking his hand, you guided it to your lower abdomen, letting it slip under your shirt to settle on your skin.

“Can you hold me right there? Is that okay?”

His face leaned into your shoulder, warm cheek pressed to your neck. “If it helps you, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you.”

Rather than replying verbally, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

And that contact was great.

For all of five minutes before your hips twitched, arousal was building between your legs, and all from a simple, innocent touch. 

You squeezed your thighs together, squirming a bit in search of friction. If only you could slip your hand between your legs to grind against your fist, you’d be fine. 

But Toji would definitely notice that.

You tried to keep the squirming to a minimum; you didn’t want him to take his hand away. 

“I know you don’t mean it,” Toji finally choked out, trailing off as your writhing slackened. “You’re moving around...”

“S-Sorry, it’s just…” With no excuse, you added, “Sorry.”

“S’okay,” he mumbled, probably growing tired in the warm, dim room, just like you were. “It’s just frustrating for me, too.”

“Sorry,” you said again, and stopped moving.

That is, until another cramp had you tensing up, and that hand on your lower stomach smoothed over your skin, just barely dipping into the waistband on your shorts before settling in the right spot again. You couldn’t help it; your thighs squeezed, and you squirmed.

“Baby-”

“I-” You swallowed down the whine building in the back of your throat before reaching back for his cock. He jerked at the feeling, thrusting toward you with a choked groan. Slowly, you tilted your hips back, pressing against him before cautiously asking, “Can we? Just this once?”

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew it had to be beet red. But teasing him about his inexperience wasn’t what you wanted to do at that moment. What you wanted was to get off, to stop the cramps for at least a little while, and to sleep.

A tired, nervous chuckle vibrated against your shoulder blade as he pulled his hand away, tilting his hips away from you. “Um, I don’t know how to do… that-”

You drew back, the sting of rejection prickling all over. “Sorry. You’re right, that’s a lot-” 

“Don’t be sorry. I want to help, but I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t… want to screw it up.” 

“O-Okay.”

Awkward silence gathered quickly in the room.

“Can we try something else?” he asked quietly, reaching out for you again.

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

His hand trailed out from behind your legs, moving to your hip to give it a gentle nudge– not to push you away, just to tilt them in a way that he had more access to your ass. He grabbed the waistband of your shorts, stopping to ask, “Can I take these off?”

You swallowed thickly, still feeling confused, but you nodded anyway. Toji helped you out of them, tossing the pair aside and situating you again. You were nearly lying on your stomach, but with your hips still propped on your side. You grabbed your pillow, pressing your face into it to hide your embarrassment– you’d never been this bare in front of anyone, let alone Toji.

And he was still right behind you, holding himself up on his side while running his other hand up and down your bare thigh. His touch disappeared for a moment before coming back with two wet fingers swiping up and down your slit. You tensed, gasping quietly as he leaned his forehead onto your shoulder, groaning under his breath, “fuck me.”

“T-Toji.”

“Can I?” He traced his fingers over your entrance. “Right here?”

“Please,” you begged, “please, please, please-” He started with one, pressing inside before drawing back out to add the second, reaching so much deeper than your fingers ever would. With a whine, you brought one of your hands between your legs to play with your clit, circling it slowly to match the pace of his fingers. “Yes, fuck…” 

You felt his heavy breaths against your shoulder; he was getting himself worked up, too, despite receiving not a single touch in return. He wasn’t even grinding against you, but just the sounds he was making clued you in that he was feeling good, too. 

It was cute how easily you affected him, but this didn’t occur to you in the moment.

You arched your back just enough to prop your ass up more, taking his fingers in an angle that was just a bit deeper. The movement must’ve flared a little insecurity in him because he stopped to ask, “Is this okay?” 

You barely managed a nod and slurred into the pillow, “M-Mhm. S’good, Toji.”

He hummed, pleased with your response, and lowered his face to your neck again.

After so long in your position, your hand began to cramp, but with you being so desperate for an orgasm, you needed something more.

“Can you talk to me?”

“Um, about what?”

“I-I don’t know.” You swallowed thickly, suddenly very self-aware of your predicament and really nervous about it. “Anything. Your voice. It sounds nice.”

You heard him groan behind you, felt his exhale brush over your shoulder, creating goosebumps in its path. And then, against your skin, he mumbled something that you couldn’t hear. 

“What?” Your fingers on your clit slowed.

He anxiously laughed, and then a little louder, repeated, “Can’t talk– I mean, I shouldn’t…”

Your brows furrowed, confusion sinking in. “What do you-”

“I just… I don’t know what I would say– sorry-”

You smiled into the pillow. “It’s okay. Can you kiss me instead?” And then to specify, “My neck. It’s sensitive. Feels nice.”

Toji followed through with your request, pressing his lips to the side of your throat, gently sucking and nipping his way to just below your ear. Your limbs softened, insides going gooey.

The second you really started sinking into the moment, your pussy tightening around his fingers, pressing your ass back into his hand for more, you felt his shuddering breath on your neck and then his teeth sinking in just a bit deeper than before. You tensed, whimpering out a soft sound, clenching your thighs together when it stirred up butterflies. 

Having obviously felt it, Toji snickered quietly and jokingly muttered over the bite, “Freak.” 

You couldn’t help it– his voice, his breath hitting the wet indents his teeth left behind– you moaned, clenching around his fingers once again. As if realizing just the effect his voice had on you, the playfulness in him receded with a whispering, “Oh.”

“Oh?” you shakily questioned.

“You just…” He pulled his fingers out just enough to thrust them back in, which was a different feeling entirely than the gentle internal petting he had been doing. 

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, taking it between your teeth when he did it again, and then again. The sound of your arousal wasn’t very subtle– Toji practically stopped breathing when he pressed them inside again, listening to the slick noise. 

He groaned and moved his hand quicker, just to hear how wet you were. 

You weren’t sure if he knew what he was doing, other than mapping you out and learning from the moment, but his innocent exploration of your body was getting you off. 

Quickly. Very quickly.

You arched into it, pressing your ass up to take his fingers, while you angled your face into the pillow. Maybe it was to hide or to stifle any sounds that would knock him out of the moment. 

Or maybe it was to save yourself from spontaneously combusting– because, holy shit, your best friend was fingering the fuck out of you and it felt otherworldly, but also, holy shit, this was Toji, your best friend.

“So fucking wet,” he breathed, “Feels so good, baby. You feel amazing.”

Your eyes widened, and you froze, because, again, this was your best friend. Your best friend, who now knows what your wet pussy feels like. Your best friend who thinks you feel amazing inside.

“T-Toji,” you stammered, using both hands to grab at the bedding.

He seemed to realize the situation for himself, too, and immediately pulled his hand away from you, apologies instantly falling from his lips. 

“S-Sorry, I didn’t-” During his rambling, you flipped onto your back to face him. The abrupt movement and close, face-to-face proximity had him reeling back, but before he got too far, you fisted the front of his shirt to drag him back. He winced away from you, as if you might hit him. “That was too far, I know-”

“Toji-”

“M’sorry. I won’t say those things again-”

To make him shut up, you kissed him. Hard. 

He gasped and hesitantly kissed you back for all of two seconds before you pulled away just enough to speak. Your tongue traced over your bottom lip, swiping up your combined saliva. He followed the action with his eyes, nearly panting.

“You didn’t have to stop.”

His lips parted to take in a breath, his brows furrowed in confusion, and he looked at you as though you were speaking a different language. “What?”

Rather than saying anything else, you gently guided his hand back down between your legs. You even pressed his two middle fingers to your entrance, just barely pushing the tips of them inside. Still, he didn’t move– even if your gesture was an obvious invitation.

“Toji,” you began, bucking up into his hand. “I want you to keep going.”

You couldn’t blame him for his hesitation– he was just as new at this as you were; he was just as scared to fuck up, too. But in this moment, the only thing that could ruin anything was if he pulled away and didn’t finish what he started. 

You leaned in, tracing your lips over his own, hoping he’d just kiss you. 

“Please, Toji.” 

The redness on his cheeks flared, but rather than succumbing to his nervousness, he endured it. Without the kiss, he pressed his fingers inside, watching your face with widened pupils as if searching for anything that would tell him to stop. But he could search for as long as he wanted; he’d never find anything on your face that said you didn’t want this.

“Yes,” you cooed, dragging your fingers through his hair. “Just like before– it was good. You were doing so well.”

It took only a few pumps of his fingers inside of you before the heat of the moment caught back up to both of you. With you practically panting against his mouth, he groaned and finally– finally– kissed you again. 

The angle of his fingers, with you now on your back, was so much better than before; the curl of them now inching so close to something new, something you’d never felt on yourself. And all it took was you spreading your legs just a bit more for him to find it.

All at once, you tensed up, gripping his hair tighter, moaning loudly into his mouth. 

“Again,” you keened, “do that again.”

He listened without hesitation, pressing right into that spot– pressing right into it every single time. 

You broke away from his mouth with a sharp gasp and propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his hand between your legs. The way his forearm flexed, the way his palm was glistening with your arousal, the way he was watching it happen with you– 

“Fuck, Toji. T-That feels so f-fucking good.”

“Does it, baby?”

And the way he said that– it wasn’t insecure, it wasn’t hesitant or apprehensive. It was sarcastic, borderline condescending, but in the best way possible. It was confident, smug, like he knew he was making you feel good, and fuck, he really was.

You dragged your hand down between your legs, rubbing your fingers over your clit, and that combination was so mind-numbingly good. 

The realization that you were going to come– that Toji was about to make you come on his fingers– was jarring, but at the same time, it’s like this was what you had been waiting for for so long.

“So tight,” he murmured, more so to himself than you, but you heard it. And then he asked, “Are you close?”

“M-Mhm. Please, please-”

“Please?” You felt his grin against your neck. “I should be saying that to you; show me, please.”

You were practically writhing, right there at the edge, and despite that, you brokenly giggled, “You wanna see me come?”

“God, yes.” You felt his hips shift toward you, wishing desperately to grind against your thigh, but unable to reach you. “Fuck, please show me. Please.”

Your head tilted back lazily, letting you take in more air for those gasps and cries and whines that you couldn’t help. 

When your breathing turned into short, quick pants, and your thighs started to twitch, hips bucking for more, eyes daring to roll back in your skull, finally, your orgasm washed over you, brutally good and unrelenting. You clamped down around his fingers, thighs closing shut on his hand and your own as you rode out the blissful feeling.

Somewhere in that moment, you pulled Toji in, eagerly slotting your mouth right over his, and he responded just the same, kissing you hard until the orgasm faded, leaving behind only the residual beads of dopamine and oxytocin that flooded your brain. Your legs parted, and you drew your hand back, using it to hold onto his shoulders to keep him anchored at your side. 

His lips slowed, but the heat never wavered; the tension was still there. When you broke for air, he moved the tentative kisses down your jaw to your neck, gently fingering you in slow strokes to coax you back down from the high.

You panted, squinting and blinking in the dim room, thinking nothing but holy shit, you just did that. And then you felt his hips shift beside you, a subtle and probably subconscious grind of his cock against the inside of his pants to ease the tightness. 

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, all while staring at the bulge in his pants.

“Mm,” he hummed over your pulse, soaking up his own dose of endorphins– the oxytocin he was definitely drowning in from just being this close to you. You wondered if he somehow felt high just like you, even without the orgasm. 

And speaking of his lack of orgasm.

You pulled him over you, which was surprisingly easy given how pliant he was. Thankfully, his bones were entirely made of jelly, so he still kept himself from crushing you. He pulled his fingers from between your legs, pressing that hand into the bed to hold himself up. While guiding his mouth back to your own, you trailed a hand down his torso to tug at his waistband.

Instantly, he tensed and grabbed your wrist, pulling it away. He parted from your lips to ask, “What are you doing?”

“You’re hard.”

You weren’t sure if he assumed you just hadn’t noticed, like he hadn’t been rutting it against you the whole time, but he flushed at your words. 

“Sorry.”

You grinned. “Don’t be sorry. Just… can I return the favor?”

His eyes widened. “Oh. You don’t have to-”

“Toji,” you huffed, a borderline scold, “I want to. If you’ll let me.”

After everything that just transpired, he still hesitated in his answer. “Okay. Yeah. If you want, just…”

While waiting for him to finish, you brought your hand back down to his waistband, but before slipping inside, you prompted, “Just, what?”

“Uh… just don’t expect me to last that long.” You held a straight face for as long as you could before you broke out into a series of giggles, earning his groan. “It’s not funny.”

“Hm.” You kissed him once, leaning back just enough to mumble, “It’s a little funny,” before kissing him again. 

You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his pants, slowly pushing them down, along with his boxers, until his cock sprang free. It dipped low with its weight, tapping your stomach. You pulled back from his mouth to look between your bodies at him, which he let you do for all of five seconds before he pressed you down, blocking your view of his cock.

“Don’t stare.”

“I just wanted to see really quickly.” Your lips twisted, holding back a grin. You reached down to wrap your hand around him. “You’re pretty big.”

His pupils dilated more as he sputtered for a response to that, but you didn’t give him the chance to form words before you stroked the entire length of him. And when he finally found something to say, it was a groaning, “God– yes,” as he leaned his face into the crook of your neck.

You bit back a smile. “Is this good?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good enough to make you come?”

He chuckled, then rasped, “Fuck, you could probably make me come by just breathing on it.”

You snorted. “That easy, huh?”

“You have no idea, baby.”

You knew you had to be doing something right because the precum dripping from his tip coated your hand; it was plenty to keep the friction to a minimum. 

He pressed a hand to your waist, just to slide over your skin, squeezing at the soft curve of your hip. It slipped underneath your shirt, trailing up the side of your ribs, stopping right at the swell of your breast before retreating. You only let him do it once more before slowing your hand on his cock and asking, “Do you want to see them?” 

“Hm?” He raised up from your neck. You pulled your shirt up to your chin, letting him get a look at your bare chest. “O-Oh.” His cock twitched in your hand, so you started stroking him again, just to hear another, softer, “o-oh…”

It was cute.

“You can–uh… touch them. If you want. Just be easy; they’re sore. You know, ‘cause of PMS and stuff–” The man gave you no time to process it; quicker than you could fathom a human being ever moving, he had moved down your body and taken one of your nipples into his mouth, making you gasp out in surprise. “O-Okay, yeah. That’s… good.”

You couldn’t reach his cock anymore, but apparently, you didn’t need to. With one hand between his own legs, he started jerking himself off while mouthing at your tits. 

Unsure of what to do with your hands, you propped yourself up on one elbow and carded your fingers through his hair, gently pulling on the strands to bring him closer. His eyes closed, and he exhaled a shaky moan, clearly getting off on the hair-playing. “Fuck,” he cursed when he pulled back, only to switch to the other. 

When he accidentally sucked just a bit too hard, you jerked beneath him, giving his hair a harsh pull, and scolding, “Easy.”

And Toji faltered, looking up at you, eyes laden with so much lust. He listened, slackening his tongue to soft, wet caresses, but still watching your face to make sure what he was doing was okay. 

To spare him the worry, you smiled, nodding and brushing your fingers through the hair that hung over his forehead. “Good, Toji. Much better.”

His eyes widened just a bit, cheeks flushing red, his movements slowing for only a moment before he abruptly pulled back. He looked down at himself, stroking his cock faster, breathing harder. The hand he was holding himself up with fisted the bedding so hard, you almost wondered if he could rip it that way. 

And then you felt it, hot ropes of cum hitting your bare stomach, pooling over your abdomen. He groaned, a guttural sound, something so sexy and primal that it had arousal flaring between your legs again. As his hand started to stop, you noticed the tension in his shoulders, which were barely moving as he breathed.

Before he could start to overthink– because you knew that was bound to happen with him– you placed both your hands on the sides of his face and forced him to look at you. 

There was the usual flush to his cheeks, and his eyes were still blown wide, but there was a new lax look to his features that you really liked. You thumbed at his swollen lip, feeling yourself smile as you asked, “You okay?”

His breathing stopped when his eyes flicked to your mouth. And then, he snapped out of it, clearing his throat. “Yeah. M’good.”

“You sure?”

He nodded and pressed forward, claiming your mouth once more. During the series of kisses, when both of you were still coming down, trying to get comfortable, you felt his hand slide through the cooling cum on your stomach, making him reel back.

“Shit. Sorry.” He was already pulling himself off the bed, tugging up his pants. “I’ll go get something-”

“Don’t bother,” you quipped, pulling your shirt off over your head. You messily wiped off your stomach before tossing it away. “Now, get back here. We’re supposed to be napping.”

He gaped at you, mouth wide open. Toji was quick to point out the obvious. “You’re naked.”

“Yes. But is it anything you haven’t already seen and/or jizzed on? No. So, get into bed.”

His nose crinkled. “Don’t say jizz.”

“Toji.”

He relented then. “Fine.”

author's note: First, I want to thank everyone who sent me messages and asks during my break-- you all are so sweet. There were quite a few, so I won't respond to each one, but just know I truly appreciated them <3!

Second, there was supposed to be a part two to this, but I don't know that I'll get around to writing it, nor do I think that anyone would want to read it anyway. It's canon compliant, so... we know how that ends. But if I cut it off right here, no one has to be sad, and it's a happy ending :)

And third, updating of any kind will be kinda slow for me right now as I work on other projects, so I really appreciate your patience. It means the world to me <3!! If you're interested in the other things I'm working on, they're on my ao3-- they are not x reader fics, but they are JJK, so please keep that in mind :)