Comfort

Slowly, cautiously, Ayame handed him the tiny, white envelope of wedding photos. --Kana’s-- wedding photos. Hatori opened the package with hesitant, shaking fingers that only his two best friends would ever notice, his face carefully composed in a way that let them know just how hurt he actually was. He barely glanced at the pictures at all, just enough to confirm his suspicions, before shoving them back in the envelope and pushing them across the table back towards Ayame. Shigure smirked sadly, snagging the pictures and stowing them away in his robe, out of sight out of mind.

“I knew there was a reason for your inviting us all here.” Hatori smiled at Ayame and Shigure in turn, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“What can I say?” Ayame shrugged over exaggerated confidence, the look brimming with his usual theatricality. “I suppose I just wanted to be sure… before I broke the news.” The sparkle in his smile was lacking, the look sad. “You’re better off without her, you know.” He added, frowning. “You deserve someone… someone…”

“Better?” Shigure threw in with a smirk, tipping his glass of sake to his lips. Ayame continued without a hitch.

“Yes, that’s right! Better!” He crossed his arms over his chest, pouting in disgust. “You deserve someone better. Someone who will treat you right.”

“Someone who will be the guiding light in your darkest hour.” Shigure offered poetically, still smirking.

“Exactly! Guiding light!” Ayame nodded enthusiastically.

“Someone who will want to be near you even when you are forced to be apart.” Shigure continued, raising his glass of sake as though in toast.

“Right, right! Romance and love and joy!” Ayame agreed, practically on his feet with passion. “You deserve the best, Hari!”

“Someone who will be the fire to your hearth… and elsewhere.” The proclamation was zealous and half chuckled, the last word followed by a groan worthy, very Shigure-esque eyebrow waggle.

“Indeed, Hari! Fire to your hea-Hey!” Ayame frowned deeper, leaning across the table to smack Shigure across the back of the head. “That’s not where I was going with that at all!” He sighed, over dramatic as always. But before he could continue, Shigure more than ready to rebuke with some more figurative language from his novelist’s arsenal, Hatori began to laugh. A chuckle at first, which was already more than what either of his friends was used to, then an outright burst of laughter. Not quite bordering on hysterics, but for as much as that man had laughed since the Kana incident, it might as well have been. After it died down some, just a breathy whisper of amusement left, Ayame leaned towards him, worry evident on his face.

“Hari?” He whispered, clearly concerned, but Hatori merely wiped his eyes with a sigh, resting his elbow on the table and scratching absently at the back of his neck, a half-smile still on his lips.

“I’m okay,” Hatori looked from Ayame to Shigure, eyes still sad, but thankful somehow. Or nostalgic maybe. “Really. I’m okay. She’s moved on with her life. And she’s happy now.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s all I’ve wanted for Kana. So I’m fine.” He took a deep breath and smiled. For real this time. “Honest.”

“No offense, Hari,” Shigure smiled softly. “But you don’t look fine. You look far from fine.” He put his empty sake cup on the table and rested his chin on his intertwined fingers suggestively. “In fact, I’d say you look like you could use some consoling.” Ayame nodded in stern agreement.

Hatori frowned, but when he spoke, the sound was half way between a chuckle and a sigh. “I told you both. Not again. Last time was… It was the last time. You know that.”

“Oh come on, Hari! A little stress relief can’t hurt, right? And it’ll take your mind off of Kana.” Ayame tried, ignoring Hatori’s only partially reluctant shake of the head.

“You’ve been taking my mind off Kana for years… I don’t need-” Hatori started, but Ayame was already on his feet, walking around the table towards him, kneeling between his legs.

“Let us make you feel better, Hari,” Ayame soothed, rubbing at the inside of his thigh, looking up at him with pleading, puppy-dog eyes.

Hatori shook his head, but with much less certainty this time. “I don’t want-”

Somehow, Shigure had found his way behind Hatori’s chair, hands gripping comfortingly at his shoulders. “Are you sure?” He leaned in, nuzzling his best friend’s neck, brushing his lips against his pulse with a sigh, mumbling against his skin. “You don’t want this?”

“Shigure…” Hatori tried half heartedly, head already falling back, eyes fluttering closed, his body responding the way they all knew it would. The way it always did. “We shouldn’t… Not here.”

“Don’t worry.” Shigure chuckled, breath ticking the nape of Hatori’s neck. “I had Tohru take those two for a walk. We have the place to ourselves.” He licked a line across Hatori’s jaw. “And you want this, Hari.” He bit at the man’s ear, nibbling lightly at the lobe as he added, “You need this.”

“Damnit…” Hatori bit his lip, groaning at the sensation. His weak spot. One only these two men knew about. “Fine. Please…” Shigure chuckled, motioning wordlessly at Ayame, the man nodding and shifting further between Hatori’s legs, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, hands releasing that hard, desperate heat with a groan. “God, Aya…” Hatori hissed, leaning farther back into Shigure’s arms as Ayame licked teasingly at the tip of his cock. His hands found their usual place in Ayame’s hair, gripping tightly, but not painfully, fingers tangled in the long, white-purple strands. Not a human color for hair, but one of Hatori’s favorite features. Both a sign of the curse that wrought him, and the fact that he didn’t give a shit about it. He was who he was, no matter what, and right then, he was swallowing his best friend’s dick to the hilt, deep throating him perfectly… the way only a snake could.

“That’s right, Aya.” Shigure whispered huskily in between nibbling at Hatori’s neck and unbuttoning his shirt so that greedy hands could touch more skin. “Suck him off, just like that.” Ayame hummed in agreement around the throbbing flush, making Hatori moan in needy response, the fingers of one hand tightening even more so in Ayame’s hair, while the other reached up to grasp Shigure behind the neck, keeping them both close. Where they were supposed to be. Always. No matter what happened or who it happened with. They were the Mabudachi Trio, for better or for worse. And right now--oh gods, yes please, right there, fuck yes--it was for better.

Shigure caught Hatori’s parted lips with a kiss, tongue delving into moist heat without warning, knowing that was how the man liked it, knowing it would quicken his impending release. “You deserve this, Hari.” He mumbled between his teeth, biting at Hatori’s bottom lip. “And so, so much more.”

“Aya-AHHhh…” Hatori gasped as Ayame worked his way back up the shaft, cheeks hallowed from sucking, eyes heavy with lust, the man gazing up at the doctor and chuckling softly just for added sensation. Panting heavily, so near completion, Hatori found Shigure’s lips again, breathing into that responsively smug mouth as he came, his other friend continuing to milk every drop from his cock, sucking him dry and releasing him with a soft kiss on his head once the contact became too much. Hatori willed his heart to slow, his breathing to return to normal, but every inch of him still twitched and seethed from the power of his orgasm. So much so, that when Ayame made to return his dick to his pants, he hissed at the sensitivity, opening eyes he hadn’t realized had closed.

“That’s it?” He heard himself say, realizing how it sounded at once and clearing his throat, running a hand over his sweat dotted brow. “I mean… What about… Reciprocation?” He glanced from Ayame to Shigure and back, watching as the man between his legs smiled knowingly, detangling his hair as he got to his feet.

“Tonight, Hari,” Shigure smiled evilly, walking around to Hatori’s front and planting a deep, passionate kiss on those already bruised lips. “I think I hear a cat and a rat bickering not too far in the distance. Might be a good time to stop.” Hatori wasn’t one to argue a good point, but it still didn’t seem fair. He glanced in the direction of Shigure’s cock, his robe hiding most of his erection, but not enough to fool anyone. Before he could voice his disappointment, Shigure repeated the word, “Tonight,” and kissed him once more, a chaste but intimate representation of their friendship. Ayame stepped to Shigure’s side, kissing at the man’s neck and grabbing his hand, fingers entwined without thought.

“We just wanted to comfort you, Hari. That’s all.” Ayame smiled against still too sensitive skin. Shigure and Ayame backed away, offering him two devilish and frighteningly similar smiles before leaving Hatori to himself. He smirked softly as he ran his hands over his face, reveling in the afterglow of the situation, while trying desperately not to be so excited about what was still to come. And failing horribly at it.