Sweat It Out

* The boys belong to Konomi - though I really wish otherwise.


Sweat it Out


Gakuto shifted, stretching lazily and lounging, quite contentedly, against Oshitari. Oshitari petted the shorter boy’s vibrant, silky hair and smiled faintly without tearing his attention away from the novel he was currently reading.

“Mm. I’m glad we don’t have practice tomorrow.”

Oshitari only continued to stroke Gakuto’s hair and hummed, noncommittal.

Gakuto frowned, rolling his eyes up to get a good look at precisely what his partner was reading. He decided, for Oshitari’s interest to be so completely garnered, that the book’s title had better be something along the lines of ‘How to please Mukahi Gakuto in three easy steps.’

As it turned out, the title that was so sickeningly emblazoned across the front cover in elaborate script was ‘To Tame a Dark Knight.”

Gakuto elbowed Oshitari. “I’ll bet you Ohtori isn’t lying in bed with Shishido reading romances and ignoring his lover right now.”

Oshitari lifted his hand to calmly turn to the next page and then he resumed idly petting his partner’s hair. “You’d be right. It would be incredibly stupid of me to bet against you on that one.”

Oshitari chuckled to himself, then, though Gakuto doubted it had anything whatsoever to do with him. Likely he was giggling over something insulting that bastard hero of the story had just said to some brainless female.

Gakuto rolled away from Oshitari, taking special care to kick him in the shin when he did so. Oshitari grunted and leaned to rub his leg, but he didn’t stop reading, nor did he as much as glance in Gakuto’s direction.

Scowling, Gakuto reached for the remote and turned on his TV. “This is the last time I invite you to spend the night when my parents are out of town, Yuushi, you ass.”

Oshitari chuckled again and, this time, Gakuto knew it had everything to do with him. Bastard.

After he’d turned on the television, Gakuto channel-surfed for a good five minutes, knowing that it would wear on Oshitari’s nerves. He abandoned his efforts, however, when he found a channel playing very loud, very obnoxious hip hop videos. That would wear on Oshitari’s nerves much more effectively.

Gakuto lay the remote beside him and snuggled back against the pillows, smug and vindicated. Several long, miserable moments passed and Oshitari had yet to utter a word, cross or otherwise, about Gakuto’s program choices. He chewed on his bottom lip, his toes curling in annoyance. He detested this channel just as much as Oshitari did, but he had a point to make, dammit. He’d just have to lay here, in mind-splitting agony, until Oshitari gave in first and Gakuto could – happily – change the channel.

He snuck a glance at Oshitari, hoping for some sign that he was becoming annoyed. Sadly, Oshitari simply turned to the next page, looking far more engrossed in that cheesy romance than he should be. Gakuto frowned. He couldn’t even listen to the rain fall now – and it was his own fault. This made him even more angry and he was about to kick Oshitari again when he heard the faint sound of someone knocking at the front door.

Gakuto glanced at the clock. “Beh, it’s nine o’clock and it’s raining outside. What moron would be out in this?”

“Mm. Go answer the door and find out, muffin.”

Gakuto kicked the blankets away from him, huffing in obvious irritation. He slammed the bedroom door behind him and stomped down the stairs, muttering to himself the whole way. “…such a total asshole sometimes.”

“…think you’re so smart.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you, sometimes. Big jerk.”

He turned the deadbolt and opened the door, scowl firmly in place. “Yeah, what the hell…” He trailed off suddenly as he was met with the sight of a very wet, very frowny, very forlorn looking Jiroh.

“Jiroh? What the heck are you doing wandering around in the rain? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Jiroh sniffed, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I wasn’t wandering. I came straight here. And it’s okay, I had a nap earlier.”

Gakuto nodded, rolling his eyes as he stepped aside and motioned for Jiroh to come in. Of course he’d had a nap earlier. He’d probably had nine or ten. “Come in, then. I can’t believe you walked here in the rain.”

Jiroh stood awkwardly in the foyer when Gakuto had closed and locked the front door. He sniffed again and looked around hesitantly. It was then that Gakuto noticed the other boy’s eyes were red and puffy and he was carrying a soaking wet red duffle bag. “You want to go upstairs and change clothes and get warm? Then I’ll make you some tea and you can tell me what’s wrong.”

Jiroh sniffled, a little hiccup catching in his throat. “Who said anything was wrong?”

Gakuto rested a hand on his hip and gave Jiroh the ‘remember who you’re talking to’ look. “Lucky guess. Go ahead upstairs, I’ll be right up. Take a warm shower and change your clothes.”

Jiroh didn’t answer, but he nodded, sniffing when he turned to drudge up the steps. Gakuto frowned and went into the kitchen. He’d lay odds that this had something to do with Atobe-buchou and he was certain it was going to be a long night.

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Oshitari glanced up when the door creaked open. He knew, before he’d even caught a glimpse of the dark blonde curls, that the footsteps on the stairs had not belonged to Gakuto.

He lay the book aside, finger sandwiched between the pages to mark his place. “Jiroh?”

Jiroh closed the door softly behind him, standing just inside the room, shoulders hunched and looking like a sad little kitten. “Oh. Sorry, Yuushi-kun. I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting…”

Oshitari waved Jiroh’s hesitant words away and marked his book with one of Gakuto’s school photos that conveniently lay on the bedside table. He rose, dressed in loose cotton lounge pants and nothing else. “You’re not interrupting anything, Jiroh. Gakuto and I were just settling in for a quiet evening of mind control and power trips. I should be apologizing to you.” He chuckled softly as he took the wet duffle from the equally sopping boy and gave him a small, sympathetic smile. “Is there anything we can do?”

Jiroh’s cheeks flushed pink, a little embarrassed to be standing so close to Oshitari when he was half naked, imposing and apparently filling in as Hyoutei’s hottest seme while Atobe was busy wooing Tezuka Kunimitsu. “Uh…no…I don’t think so.”

Oshitari ruffled Jiroh’s wet curls and gestured to the door on the far side of the bedroom. Bathroom’s in there. Why don’t you go shower and relax? I’m sure Gakuto will bring up some tea momentarily.”

Jiroh blinked in almost-surprise. Gakuto and Oshitari were like some genteel, old-world married couple. That is to say, rather, that Oshitari was like some genteel, old-world gentleman. Gakuto was more like the WASPy, Prada-clad, socialite wife who partook of martini lunches and social clubs. Not that he would ever say that to anyone, as Gakuto would probably try to claw his eyes out, Jiroh’s heartbreak notwithstanding. He nodded and attempted a smile before trudging toward the bathroom with his head down.

Oshitari frowned when the smaller boy closed the door and he set the wet duffle near the bathroom door just as Gakuto entered the room again, hands occupied with an oversized silver serving tray. He looked around. “Where’s Jiroh?” It sounded like an accusation.

Oshitari was just stretching out on the bed again, like a satisfied, lazy lion. A satisfied, lazy lion who was quite anxious to return to his novel. “I ate him. After I raped him, of course.”

Gakuto wrinkled his nose and gave Oshitari ‘the look’. He turned away for a moment, setting the tea tray on the corner of his desk. “I hate you, sometimes, Oshitari Yuushi.”

Oshitari smiled faintly and motioned for Gakuto to come closer. Gakuto went, grudgingly. “I mean it, you know.” Still he edged closer, and closer again until he was within Oshitari’s reach and it was then that the bigger boy reached out to grab his arm and pull him to the bed. Gakuto grunted when he landed atop Oshitari and he tried to scowl until Oshitari cut off his impending tirade with a slow, searching kiss. Gakuto whimpered.

Oshitari stroked the small of his back, fingertips tracing the sweet dip there toward the swell of his delectable little ass. He pulled back a little, nuzzling Gakuto’s lips. “That’s a shame. I always love you, Gakuto.”

Gakuto honestly tried to look forbidding, but the look in Oshitari’s eyes was too entrancing to ignore. Gakuto pouted minutely. “You do?”

Oshitari smiled and squeezed Gakuto’s bottom. “Oh, I do.”

Gakuto smiled then, that slow-forming, wicked smile that had instilled such apprehension in so many of his opponents. “You’d better.”

Oshitari kissed him again, softly, reverently. “And you love me, too?”

Gakuto snuggled against his taller lover and closed his eyes, the bickering from earlier all but forgotten. “You know I do. You smug bastard.”

Oshitari smiled. “I was only kidding about Jiroh. I didn’t really eat him.”

Gakuto smacked Oshitari’s arm playfully. “Yuushi!”

Oshitari grabbed Gakuto’s wrist, bringing his pretty, delicate fingers to Oshitari’s lips to nuzzle and kiss. Gakuto’s expression softened and he leaned in to remove Oshitari’s glasses before he kissed him. Oshitari gazed up into the familiar, beloved gaze of his lover and he rubbed strands of Gakuto’s glossy, burgundy hair between his fingertips. “What’s wrong with Jiroh?”

Gakuto shrugged, lounging easily on Oshitari. “Dunno. He looked upset – I think Atobe might’ve struck again.” He rolled his eyes to illustrate precisely how he felt about that.

Oshitari sighed. “Atobe is his own worst enemy, I think. He seems determined to sabotage his own happiness.”

Gakuto snorted. “He’s not sabotaging anything, Yuushi – he’s having his cake and eating it, too. Just like he always does.”

Oshitari shook his head. “He’s still chasing Tezuka Kunimitsu. That’s one prize he’s not likely to win.”

Gakuto looked surprised. “You really think so?”

Oshitari only shrugged. “Tezuka’s interests have been garnered elsewhere.”

Gakuto nodded. “Mmhm. Tennis and Echizen.”

Oshitari grinned wickedly. “And the two are definitely mutually exclusive.”

They laughed, Gakuto’s amusement muffled against Oshitari’s shoulder. It was mid-giggle that Jiroh slowly opened the bathroom door and peeked out hesitantly. Steam rolled out behind him and, while he was just as wet and bedraggled as when he’d arrived, his skin was flushed pink from the excessively hot water he favored. “Uh…should I go back into the bathroom?”

Gakuto smooched Oshitari loudly and rolled to his feet with a little grunt. “Nope. Come on in, Jiroh.”

Jiroh opened the door a little further and peeked into the room. He watched silently, not saying a word when Gakuto breezed past him on his way to the bureau. “Heh. Forgot your clothes were all wet. Hang on, I’ll get you something to wear.”

Jiroh stood in the bathroom doorway, towel swathed around him as chastely as he could manage while he watched Gakuto paw through his bureau for something that would fit Jiroh. He did not, for a moment, miss the way Oshitari’s hungry eyes followed the redhead’s every movement.

“We’re about the same size, I think. I mean, you’re taller than me but it’s not like you have anyone to impress so it doesn’t matter if you wear highwaters or anything.”

Oshitari closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly and pinching the bridge of his nose. Subtlety, thy name was not Mukahi Gakuto. “Do you need to call your parents, Jiroh? Won’t they be worried?”

Jiroh shook his head, trying to ignore the fact that he was breaking out in cold chills. “No, they think I’m going to be out all night anyway. When I go home later, they’ll probably already be asleep.”

Gakuto snorted. “Hmph. Stupid Atobe and his stupid libido. He’ll fuck anything that can’t outrun Kabaji.”

Oshitari scowled. “Gakuto, that’ll do.” Expression softening, he spoke to Jiroh. “You should stay with us, Jiroh. There’s really no point in your going home alone, in the dark and the rain, when you can stay here with us and be warm.”

Gakuto padded over to Jiroh and shoved a bundle of light, cotton clothing into his arms. “Of course he’s staying here. Let idiot Atobe wonder where he is when he tries to call him later.”

So saying, Gakuto smacked a loud kiss on Jiroh’s shoulder and then patted him reassuringly. “Go change, Jiroh. I’ll pour your tea.”

Jiroh nodded wordlessly and trudged back into the bathroom, closing the door tight behind him. Oshitari sighed. “Gakuto, I do wish you would refrain from insulting Atobe.”

Gakuto pouted while he poured tea for Jiroh, uncapping a small bottle of brandy and pouring a little into the cup before he capped it again and began to stir the tea slowly. “Well, Yuushi, if he doesn’t want to be called an idiot, he shouldn’t act like one. Poor Jiroh.”

“Yes, poor Jiroh, indeed. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. He feels badly enough as it is, he doesn’t need to hear you slandering his boyfriend.”

Gakuto was silent for a moment and he turned slightly, adding just a tad more brandy to Jiroh’s cup. It would help him sleep, he reasoned. Mistaking Gakuto’s silence for guilt, Oshitari went on. “How would you feel if someone were speaking ill of me right in front of you. And for God’s sake, are you trying to get him drunk?”

Gakuto scowled over his shoulder at Oshitari, pouring the remainder of the alcohol into the remaining two cups. “Relax, Yuushi, it’s just a little brandy. And besides, if you were banging Tezuka Kunimitsu behind my back I’d be doing a whole lot more than just speaking ill of you, you cheating bastard.”

Oshitari blinked. “That may be so, but remember: it would be one thing for you to speak ill of me as a result of my hypothetical betrayal, it’s quite another to allow other people to slander me.”

Gakuto rolled his eyes, picking up two cups of tea and carrying them to the bed. He held one out to Oshitari. “Talk about you, my sweet ass. My friends better be lining up to kick the crap out of you if you ever cheated on me.” He paused, shooting Oshitari a petulant look. “You wouldn’t, would you, Yuushi? Cheat on me, I mean.”

Oshitari held out his hand, palm up, and Gakuto wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing. Oshitari smiled, bringing his lover’s hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over his knuckles. “Who could ever take your place, hm? When you know how much I adore you.”

Gakuto smiled, cheeks flushed in pleasure. “Yuushi…”

Jiroh chose that moment to re-enter the room and, judging by his heartfelt sigh, he was feeling no better than before. He spotted the tea tray, and the lone cup that sat upon it, and dragged himself toward it, not paying any attention to the cooing lovebirds near the bed. He heard, rather than saw, Gakuto lean down to steal a kiss from the taller boy and he felt the hot prickle of tears threaten once again. Steeling himself against the pain, Jiroh lifted his cup, sipping deeply of the warm, fragrant tea. He didn’t bat an eyelash at the lingering flavor of alcohol on his tongue and, instead, turned to look at his friends.

“I can leave if you guys want. I mean, I can go crash on the sofa, Gakuto.”

Oshitari stood, then, unwinding himself slowly and easing from the bed lazily, calmly. Jiroh could not deny Oshitari’s beauty – Gakuto was quite the lucky boy. “Nonsense, Jiroh. Gakuto and I were about to go to settle in, anyway. Let me straighten the blankets and the two of you can curl up while we watch TV.”

Jiroh nodded, turning to set his cup down while Oshitari smoothed the blankets and, in doing so, missed the secret little glance that passed between his two friends – one questioning, one terribly, terribly wicked.

Gakuto hopped onto the bed, settling in against his pillow to finish his tea while Oshitari drew the shades and turned off the lights. Jiroh followed suit, taking the other side of the bed and wondering how Oshitari would feel about being relegated to the middle. His question was answered a few moments later, however, when Oshitari joined him at the side of the bed. “Scoot over, Jiroh.”

Jiroh looked up at Oshitari before turning to shoot Gakuto a helpless look. Obviously planning to offer no assistance in the matter, Gakuto patted the place beside him and grinned. “Come on, Jiroh, scoot in here. I won’t bite you.”

Feeling uneasy when Oshitari responded to his lover’s words with a soft chuckle, Jiroh did as he’d been asked and found it quite easy to wedge in next to Gakuto. As prickly and as disagreeable as the redhead could be at times, he was soft and warm and smelled faintly of cinnamon. Jiroh knew he would have little problem falling asleep tonight – particularly since the brandy was beginning to kick in. He yawned, taking one last sip and offering his cup to Oshitari, who took it without comment to set it on the bedside table. Soon after, Gakuto drained his cup and set it aside – Oshitari had made short work of his within minutes of having received it. All three boys were feeling quite languorous and worry-free. The distant ache of Atobe’s betrayal was still fresh in Jiroh’s mind, but he found that the hurt lessened when Gakuto curled up against him, shiny red head pillowed on Jiroh’s shoulder and one shapely leg resting over his own.

Oshitari smiled, amused. “I’ll warn you now – Gakuto likes to cuddle.”

Jiroh blinked – Oshitari’s declaration was a bit of a surprise as he could not imagine Gakuto cuddling with anyone, under any circumstances. “You don’t mind?” He found himself asking.

Oshitari rolled to one side, head propped on his fist as he regarded the two boys. “Why should I mind?”

Jiroh looked down at Gakuto, who only cuddled closer and rubbed his cheek against Jiroh’s chest. “Uh…well…I mean, he is your boyfriend and he’s kinda laying on me and snuggling and making those happy kitten sounds…”

Oshitari’s eyes darkened. “So he is. Would you like him to move? Are you uncomfortable?”

Jiroh licked his lips, suddenly quite warm and hazy due to Gakuto’s proximity. “No. It feels nice, actually.” Quickly, he added, “If you don’t mind, I mean.”

Oshitari smiled, reaching out to smooth Gakuto’s hair along his cheek. “Not at all, Jiroh. The two of you look quite fetching together, if I may say so.”

When Oshitari moved to pet Jiroh’s hair instead of Gakuto, Jiroh tensed a bit. Gakuto rubbed his belly gently. “Can I kiss you, Jiroh?”

Eyes widening, Jiroh stared at Gakuto before sliding a glance to Oshitari, who only smiled and settled in against his pillow, eyes alight as he watched them.

“He’s not asking me.” Oshitari told Jiroh, voice light with amusement.

Jiroh turned back to Gakuto, cheeks flushed, heart beating a bit faster than before. “I – if you want to, I guess.”

Gakuto moved over Jiroh in one, fluid motion and suddenly, the redhead was straddling his hips and sliding fingers into Jiroh’s hair just that split second before he plastered his mouth to Jiroh’s and instigated the sort of kiss that took Atobe a few minutes to warm up to. With Gakuto, there were no niceties, no preliminaries – he simply slanted his mouth over Jiroh’s and coaxed his lips open with just the tip of his tongue.

Jiroh moaned, his hands going instinctively to Gakuto’s hips as the smaller boy tilted his head and kissed him deeply, possessively – sucking on his tongue and lips and making those incredibly arousing sounds low in his throat.

Jiroh trembled. Oshitari licked his lips.

Gakuto did not seem eager to break the kiss anytime soon and, instead, began to move restlessly against Jiroh, rubbing against him, his cock hard through the very thin shorts he wore. Jiroh’s fingers tightened at Gakuto’s hips and he couldn’t resist arching up a bit to rub against the smaller boy. He felt good – so sweet and unrestrained – was this what sex was like for them all the time? No emotional drama, no secrets and undefined boundaries – just hot, urgent need and trust in one another. Jiroh could feel no uncertainty either from Oshitari or Gakuto and, as evidenced by Oshitari’s indulgent silence, they seemed to enjoy having Jiroh present for this.

When he broke the kiss to arch his back, baring his neck as he writhed beneath Gakuto, Oshitari leaned forward, nuzzling the corner of Jiroh’s mouth. “Is this still all right, Jiroh?” He asked, voice so soft and deep and comforting. Jiroh nodded quickly, unable to speak above a whisper.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Oshitari hummed his pleasure and, with two fingers at Jiroh’s chin, turned his head to take a kiss for himself. Jiroh whimpered when Oshitari’s tongue slipped between his lips and when Gakuto began nibbling at his earlobe and reaching into his pants to curl inquisitive fingers around the hot length of his erection, Jiroh shivered and rocked his hips forward. “Ahh…” he breathed against Oshitari’s mouth, moving one hand to clutch at Oshitari’s broad shoulder.

Oshitari did not cease his teasing, his tasting of Jiroh’s lips and tongue and Jiroh moaned into the taller boy’s mouth again when he felt his slightly callused palm sliding beneath his shirt and over his belly. Oshitari caressed him, teased him, tracing intricate circles over his sensitive skin when he sucked the boy’s tongue into his mouth. Then he took his hand away and there was a minute fumbling before Gakuto’s low, rough moan filled the space between them. Jiroh stilled, trembling beneath the attentions of his two teammates, and he gasped when Gakuto began to tug the front of his pants down. Oshitari helped and, soon enough, Jiroh’s pants were rolled low on his hips and Oshitari had one hand wrapped snugly around both his and Gakuto’s erections and was stroking them in unison.

Jiroh stiffened, toes curling with the exquisite pressure and rhythm that Oshitari executed and he was unable to look away when the two boys leaned over him to share a hot, desperate kiss. He watched Oshitari slip his tongue into Gakuto’s mouth, sucking and licking as his lips as he slid one hand into the back of Gakuto’s silky hair and tugged hard. Gakuto whimpered, his cock twitching against Jiroh’s, and he gasped against Oshitari’s lips. “God…Yuushi…jerk me faster, make me come.”

Oshitari only grinned and bent his head to the two boys, releasing his hold on Gakuto’s hair to alternately stroke and pet the two boys’ bellies. He rubbed his lips over the full, flushed head of Gakuto’s erection and Gakuto leaned back, bracing his hands on Jiroh’s thighs and arching his back severely as a long, tortured moan escaped him. Jiroh watched, wide eyed, as Oshitari glanced up at him from beneath long lashes and smirked knowingly before doing to same to Jiroh.

Jiroh arched, as well, writhing and thrusting into the tight channel of Oshitari’s hand, gasping when Gakuto followed suit. All too soon, the two boys were rocking their hips, seeking more of the intense pleasure Oshitari afforded them.

Jiroh tangled one hand in Oshitari’s hair and gripped Gakuto’s hip with the other, his head thrashing back and forth against the pillow as Gakuto’s thighs tightened around his own.

“Yuushi…ohyesohyes, Yuushi…please!”

Jiroh bit his lip, that same sentiment hovering just at the back of his throat, but he would not call out the other boy’s name. He moaned, desperate for release, knowing that Oshitari understood his need for silence and would not fault him for it. He could maintain some manner of loyalty, even if Atobe could not.

And then he wasn’t thinking of Atobe any longer, wasn’t thinking of anything, really, when Oshitari tightened his fist around them and tongued both him and Gakuto, alternately, those dark, dark eyes both knowing and cajoling.

Gakuto suddenly tensed, a little growl escaping him when he bucked his hips and came in two or three rapid arcs onto Jiroh’s chest and neck. Oshitari pulled back just in time, moving instead to suck hard at Jiroh’s left nipple as Gakuto collapsed against his chest, tongue insistent and kitten-rough at his right. The dual onslaught was too much for Jiroh and he bit his lip, tensing beneath Gakuto even as he wrapped one arm tight around his waist, and came hard over Oshitari’s hand and Gakuto’s soft belly. He gasped softly, turning his head to muffle any sound he made into the pillow and was surprised by the warm, lethargic feeling that came over him almost immediately after he’d come.

Gakuto rolled off of him, moving close against his body and curling up to him like a child, kissing and nuzzling his shoulder. “Mmm.” He purred, smiling faintly. “Now I’m ready for bed.”

Dimly, Jiroh was aware of Oshitari’s absence, though the bed had barely moved when the bigger boy had vacated it. He lifted a hand, tentatively, to pet Gakuto’s hair – amazed at his friend’s complacency and cuddly nature. If he hadn’t witnessed it first hand, he never would have believed it. Voice soft and faint with fatigue, Gakuto yawned. “I didn’t mean it, you know. All that stuff I said about Atobe.”

Oshitari returned, startling Jiroh when he began to clean both boys with a warm, damp washcloth. “No more talk about Atobe. I’m sure we’ll hear from him first thing in the morning.”

Jiroh wasn’t so sure, but he was grateful for his friends’ reassurance and regard for his feelings. Before tonight, he’d never really known just how much they thought of him and the knowledge that other people, besides Atobe, had an interest in him. “You really think he’ll call?” He asked, sleepy and hopeful against Gakuto’s hair as he felt sleep begin to take him over.

Oshitari leaned over them as he pulled up the blankets, pressing a little kiss to Jiroh’s forehead before offering the same to Gakuto. “I’m sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came over here, himself, looking for you.”

Jiroh smiled, burrowing into the wealth of blankets with his two friends curled up beside him. Oshitari draped one arm over Jiroh’s waist, stroking Gakuto’s shoulder and soothing him to sleep.

Oshitari chuckled quietly. “Maybe it would do him some good if you let him sweat it out a little, hm, Jiroh?”

Jiroh giggled sleepily, unable to hide another yawn. “Yeah. Maybe I should.”

Gakuto shifted, rubbing his cheek against Jiroh’s shoulder once more, like a cat marking its territory. “Make him suffer.”

As Jiroh closed his eyes, so warm and comfortable and safe, he heard the lilting strains of Handel’s Messiah from within his bag and he grinned to himself. The night wasn’t over and already Atobe was messaging him.

When sleep took him, Jiroh was smiling. Oshitari’s arm was a comforting weight and Gakuto’s hair was soft against his shoulder. Atobe could wait until tomorrow.

Let him sweat it out a little.