The cool evening breeze carried the faint tang of honeysuckle and freshly turned earth as you walked between the twins, their solid forms engulfing you on either side. Atsumu's arm remained looped possessively around your shoulders, the sculpted muscles of his bicep brushing againstyour arm with each unhurried stride in a heated line of contact.
Osamu's palm scorched the small of your back through the thin cotton of your uniform, long fingers splaying wide in an unmistakable claim of possession. You could feel the thrumming warmth of his body resonating against you with each rolling step in time with your shared gait.
Despite the innocuous setting of darkening twilight shadows stretching long across the sleepy neighborhood streets, the very air surrounding the three of you seemed to subtly intensify and charge with pulsating tension. An intangible aura settled like an electrified static cling, catalyzing each tiny hair along your forearms and nape to prickle into alertness.
The twins' earlier behavior at the gym had already stoked banked embers of confusion and unwitting arousal flickering through your depths into smoldering life. But with every casual brush of their forms against yours, each lingering graze of fingertips and weighted look exchanged over your head, those embers swiftly blazed hotter and brighter.
You shifted unconsciously, trying to alleviate the tension rapidly transmuting into a liquid, unfurling ache low in your belly. But any subtle attempt at increasing the infinitesimal space between your bodies was swiftly negated by Osamu's broad palm applying a deeper furrow of pressure against your spine. His actions were accompanied by a low, subvocal rumble of dark amusement that seemed to reverberate straight through to your core and set fresh ripples of contradiction shivering through you.
They were penning you in, separating you from any sense of personal space or autonomy by sheer inexorable degree—and somehow, you lacked the wherewithal to mount any objections beyond feeble token protests.
It wasn't until the trio of you had fully diverged from the main street onto a narrow side path cutting through a small copse of towering oaks that you found your voice again, throatiness undermining what pitiful scraps of composure you might've mastered.
"T-This isn't the way to my place..." The words emerged reedy and plaintive, drenched in naked bewilderment as you craned your neck to better take in your shadowed surroundings.
Tree boughs nudged by the lazy breeze creaked in spectral oscillations, filtering the winking corona of evening's first stars into ethereal dappling across the loamy footpath. A beat-up wrought iron gate practically consumed by clutching alabaster tendrils of resilient ivy stood askew just a few yards ahead marking what looked to be the entrance to...
"A park? But I thought you were taking me home," you pressed in rising confusion and...something darker, more viscous that you couldn't quite put a name to.
The weight of Atsumu's arm tightened infinitesimally with an implied air of coalescent possession. When he angled his head towards you, lips brushing the fragile whorls of your ear with lush friction, his deep baritone seemed to bottomlessly resonate with dark carnal promise.
"We are takin' you home, sweetheart... just a scenic slow-spin 'fore arrivin' at the final destination, that's all."
His lush mouth brushed the whorl of your ear in a sensual ellipsis contrasted by the rapacious weight of his words in a way that had you swaying dizzily on your feet. The bone-deep confusion stratified even as it transmuted into a molten unfurling low in your core that had nothing whatsoever to do with innocence.
"Seems our dear bunny could use a crash refresher in what exactly 'home' means for her pretty lil' self from now on," Osamu rumbled from your opposite side with dark promise.
