Standing Challenge

Standing Round, Part One
Mugen x Jin x Fuu
PWP

He takes his hair out of its ponytail, lets it fall, gnarled, dripping with rainwater and road-weary between his shoulderblades. The glasses come next, folded neatly and set on the floor, out of the way of foot traffic.

The rain hasn\'t stopped in days. The roads are muddy, it\'s nearly winter, and the cold is biting at their heels like starving dogs. But even as he frowns slightly at the mud-caked socks and sandals on the porch, Jin is thankful. Their luck has been good, and they\'re paid up through the week-- it\'s a simple affair: one room and one meal a day, but it\'s quiet and restful, and most of all, well-heated. Fuu comes in, looking chilled to the bone and damp, but triumphant nonetheless. The inn has been hospitable, they have the place to themselves because of the horrible traveling conditions, and with a flourish she tosses an armload of blankets to the floor.

\"And take a bath, both of you!\" she insists, \"These people have been really nice to us, so don\'t get their blankets filthy.\" Her hair hangs over her chest, long since fallen with the weight of the rain, and she disappears back towards the indoor bath with a dry yukata in one arm and a towel in the other. Mugen\'s eyes follow her form as she leaves, observing without words. The damp footprints left in her wake are like tracks on the tightrope between girl and woman, across which she moves with effortless, unconscious, playful grace. His scowl lessens with the thought of her, though he does not smile.

Jin stands. \"I will make arrangements for dinner,\" he says calmly, and goes to head out into the rain, glasses sliding into place.

\"The fuck are you going back out for? The innkeep\'ll get it,\" Mugen snaps, not so much because he cares but that he wants to snap at Jin, bait him, get that frost-crested _expression to change. Jin says nothing and leaves, and Mugen is alone. He strips out of his soggy clothes, hangs them up to dry, and curls up in the soft, hearth-warmed blankets. A few moments in peaceful solitude, as golden as the crackling fire, is all it takes before he drifts off.

****

Fuu returns, refreshed and pink-skinned from the hot water. She opens the sliding door, and sees a cinnamon-brown arm and leg poking out from a nest of covers. \"Hey,\" she scolds him, \"Didn\'t I just tell you not to go and mess up the inn\'s blankets?\"

Mugen raises his hand just enough to give her the finger before it falls back into its place over his head. \"Come on, you jerk!\" Fuu grabs him by the wrists, throws her body weight into it and tries to pull him to his feet. He makes it onto his knees before he wakes completely and tries to right himself, but Fuu all but dumps him into the bathtub on her own. He figures he should wash up, while he\'s there.

Jin returns just as Fuu re-enters the room, soaking wet from a fresh downpour, but still protectively carrying a wrapped package of hot fish tempura. Fuu shoves a blanket into his hands and demands that he get out of his dripping robe before he freezes.

\"Mugen\'s in the bath. When he comes out, go in and warm up,\" she insists, casually maternal, and goes about laying dinner out to be eaten. Jin strips out of his robe while Fuu\'s back is turned, and wraps himself up in the blanket before sitting down at the kotatsu in the center of the room. He watches her hands deftly portioning out dinner equally, skills learned from waitressing in shops and on the road.

\"You take good care of us, Fuu,\" he says softly. He takes his glasses off again, and except for the blanket, is bare.

She blinks and blushes faintly, and smiles. \"Thanks, Jin... that means a lot to me.\" She never had much need for romance, but she likes knowing she could be dependable as a good wife.

Jin\'s _expression doesn\'t change. It doesn\'t feel like home until Mugen saunters back in, clean and unabashedly naked except for a generously-loaned yukata slung low on his hips. He plops down at the table, and Fuu, with a slap of such precision and speed that it puts Mugen\'s grasping, greedy hands to shame, will have no such nonsense until she\'s done. They wait patiently, like good little boys, until Fuu finishes and they eat.

Fuu and Mugen wolf their food down with a day of starvation to inspire them. Jin eats calmly, and disappears to the bath while the other two lounge about on the floor.

When he returns, Fuu is lounging on her side, watching the dancing flames from her own makeshift bed. Her robe is half-open, shoulders and the top of her chest exposed. The skin of her slender leg is bare, pale pink and painted sunset gold by the firelight. Jin watches her for a moment, then slants a glance to Mugen; they\'ve been watching her. They both cast their eyes to Fuu\'s, and the corners of her lips twitch up slightly in a mischievious, tiny smile. She\'s watching them, too.

She stretches, a catlike, calculated movement that slides the yukata from her thigh; it creates a curving line of soft, creamy skin that seems to pull their eyes from the delicate bones of her ankle, up the back of her knee, over the sinful arch of her hipbone, over the flat softness of her stomach, between the firm, modest roundness of her breasts, up the long, white line of her neck and to the petal-soft, sweet invitation of her demurely smiling lips. She lowers her lashes and turns her eyes to Jin.

The game begins.

None of them can remember when it began to happen this way, only that it did, and it was good. It might have been when Mugen became needlessly jealous of the kisses he caught Fuu giving Jin. It might have been when Jin nearly went his own way when he saw Fuu and Mugen in their own throes of passion. Or, it might have been when Fuu got over the shock and considered the possibility when she awoke to Mugen and Jin\'s strained breath, their shadows moving together in the candlelight against the rice-paper walls one night. However it happened, it had only been prelude to this night.

Jin lets his yukata fall, pooling at his ankles as he steps away from it, and lies down behind her. He lies on his side, head supported by an elbow on the floor. Across the crackling fire, he locks eyes with Mugen, both issuing and accepting the challenge that must always come between them first, above all else. Fuu presses her back against his chest, one thigh coming up over his behind her. The fall of the fabric is teasing, keeping her covered except for her small, pert breasts. She sighs softly, a pleased, mewling sound, and reaches one hand up and back to thread through Jin\'s damp hair. His hand slowly slides down the line of her body, concealing and revealing her to Mugen\'s eyes, moving the offending cloth away. The yukata becomes a frame on a beautiful image, rather than a half-drawn curtain on a magnificent stage. Mugen watches, breath shallow, his eyes moving with Jin\'s hand and the demanding roll of Fuu\'s hips as she encourages him lower.

For Fuu, it\'s not about contest or control, it\'s about pleasure; with Jin, it is slow, reverent, lingering; with Mugen, it is dirty, wild, animal lust. But for Mugen and Jin, it\'s nothing so simple. It\'s a contest of wills-- which Jin always wins-- followed by a contest of stamina-- which Mugen never loses. It is Mugen\'s turn to watch them, to wait as long as he can stand before joining them by the fireside. Jin is merciless tonight. He licks his lips, lets his hair fall over his shoulder, and lifts Fuu\'s thigh over his own hip. She spreads her legs, moaning softly as she leans back to kiss Jin\'s neck. She guides him into her body, deep and slow, and the samurai captures Fuu\'s mouth in an equally penetrating kiss. They move together, in perfect, practised unison as their hands explore their bodies.

Fuu stops him, assures him she is all right when the concern crosses his face, and rolls him onto his back. She kisses his chest, casts a glance to make sure Mugen is still paying attention, and then straddles Jin\'s hips. \"I want to ride you,\" she whispers, and places the samurai\'s hands on her own sides. He breathes deep, eases her down onto him.

Her gasping moans send shocks down his spine, the arch of Jin\'s back set fire to his skin, and finally, Mugen decides he\'s had enough. The wild man stands, casts aside his robe and walks the bare inches it takes to bring him in front of the young woman before him. She gives him a wicked, passionate grin as she leans forward to suck him into her mouth. Mugen tips his head back, one hand threading into her hair, her talented tongue and lips working him expertly. He closes his eyes, low, growling moans escaping his throat, until he feels something else.

He looks down to see Jin, trailing his tongue over his cock, face as calm as though he were doing anything but sucking another man. Fuu occasionally pulls away to kiss him as they both pleasure Mugen. \"That\'s how you want it, huh?\" he says, and roughly turns Jin around. They both tense; they knew it would happen eventually, when they would consummate between themselves in one form or another, but neither had ever considered when.

Mugen nods to Fuu, who responds with a smile. Fuu lies down under Jin\'s body, lifts her legs up around his waist. \"Take me,\" she whispers, and Jin is pushed back into her by Mugen\'s palms pressing on the backs of his thighs. They move together like that for a moment, Jin being pushed and pulled by Fuu and Mugen. He can feel the other man\'s chest pressing against his back, his hard cock in the cleft of his ass, with the sweet contrast of Fuu\'s soft skin at his thighs and the taste of her breasts in his mouth.

It\'s not long before he feels Mugen\'s slicked cock at his entrance; he forces himself to relax when the other man\'s teeth sink into his shoulder and he is penetrated for the first time. Jin hisses in pain, but exhales in quickly-acclimating pleasure, and Fuu lets out a cry at the sudden deep thrust of being taken by them both. Mugen draws a forearm across Jin\'s collarbone, gripping hard enough to bruise his shoulder. The young woman beneath them moans, cries out, bucking her hips up against Jin\'s cock as she touches herself, edging closer to her climax.

\"Jin.. Mugen--!\" she whimpers. \"Just like that...\"

Mugen thrusts into Jin, slowly at first and then faster, letting them keep the pace she likes. He\'d love to hold him down, fuck him hard, mercilessly, come deep inside of him and leave bite marks in his neck, but that\'s not the victory he wants. He leans forward, lets his teeth graze the other samurai\'s ear, and whispers so quietly that he knows only Jin will hear it. \"Yeah.. just like that, Jin, you\'re just as fucking tight as she is; you like it like this, don\'t you? Damn, I think I can feel your heart beating this way, I\'m in you so deep-- you wanna come for me, Jin?\" Mugen thrusts harder as he speaks, unsure if he\'ll be able to outlast him.

Jin bites his lip. The sight of Fuu on the edge, Mugen\'s words in his ears; for all the times they have been together he has never, not once, cried out; he tilts his head back, and for the first time he makes a sound louder than a straining breath, \"Yes\".

Mugen grasps him, one hand on his hip, the other on his shoulder, and thrusts into him and Fuu with all the violent lust in his heart. Fuu\'s breathing dissolves into a cadence of shallow pants as she feels her climax wash over her like a wave, clinging to the inside of her skin; she digs her fingertips into the floor, raises her hips up and tenses as she comes, shivering and biting off a scream as she comes.

Jin tenses as well, feeling her muscles and her wetness squeeze him almost in time with Mugen\'s deep thrusts. He concentrates, tries to get himself back under control, but Mugen will have none of it.

\"Say it, Jin,\" he hisses, slowing just enough make it easier for him to pull out of her. He baits him, taunts him with the familiar words that have a new meaning now. \"Show me, baby, show me what you got.\"

He bites his lip until he tastes blood, but Mugen\'s words do him in. Jin\'s control scatters to the wind in the space of a heartbeat. He bends low at the waist, finding the sweat-slicked sanctuary of Fuu\'s arms, chest and lips holding him as Mugen takes him even deeper. Fuu wraps her warm hand around him in a delicious conspiracy with the wild samurai to bring Jin further than he\'s ever in.

It is not long until Jin breathes deep and whimpers. He moans, long, loud, helplessly, pleading, needing, begging them both as he comes hard, spattering over Fuu\'s stomach, with Mugen himself close behind, finished off on the edges of Jin\'s cry. They collapse, panting and sweating against each other\'s skin. Towels are passed about for the less-than-romantic affair of clean-up, and there are a few silent moments of satisfied, comfortable lounging about.

Within moments, Fuu hops up and retrives her yukata. \"I think the rain stopped for a bit.. I don\'t know about you guys, but I\'m hungry again. I think I\'ve got enough to get us a snack...\" She hops up and is dressed and gone before either of them can say anything.

Jin fixes his glasses, watches her go. He wonders how she can do that after something so intense, but then remembers that she\'s had Mugen before, and perhaps such youthful exhuberance is just more skilled at recovering from something so intense. He looks over at where Mugen is still naked and sprawled on the blankets, haughty, catlike pleasure curving his lips, though his eyes are closed and his breathing rhythmic. \"She skips away to a second supper, and he passes out,\" Jin muses aloud, somewhere between amused and exasperated. \"How fitting.\"

He stretches out on the pallet and closes his eyes, brave enough to rest his head next to Mugen\'s shoulder while leaving room enough for Fuu in the warm space between them, if she wants it. Just as he drifts off, he hears a faint snort of laughter, and Mugen\'s voice, rough with sex and satisfaction. \"I won.\"