Trifecta

Foreshadowing

The door clicked shut behind Takano, and Kirishima tried to neatly ebb the red tinting the corners of his vision out with the retreating figure.

Put a fucking lid on it, Zen, he determinedly loosened his grip that had been putting Yokozawa's couch in mortal danger.

I've seen it all before.

Has he, the bastard?

Kirishima gritted his teeth, running a smoothing hand over his expression which was undoubtedly giving away more of himself than he cared to. Usually, he'd brush it off with a think he enjoyed the show?, make light of it with a you should've seen the look on his face.

But there had been no look, of surprise, embarrassment, shock, marring the smooth lines of Takano's aggravatingly apathetic features. He looked exactly like, as he'd said, he'd seen it all before.

Kirishima knew that there was virtually nothing to worry about, Takano and Yokozawa had, quite literally, gone their separate ways. He knew Yokozawa loved him, and he knew Takano loved that Onodera-whatshisface just as much.
And Jeez, Hiyo was more mature than him sometimes, but he couldn't help the irrational possessiveness that sank its venomous claws into his reason, wanting him to drown it in the constant reassurance that Yokozawa was most assuredly not going anywhere.

As the silence between them thickened and lengthened, it prodded at Kirishima to break it, because that was just what he did.

Chancing a glance at Yokozawa from under his lashes, Kirishima felt his mouth twitching into a broad smile. He looked ready to die, fidgeting uncomfortably on the couch, face akin to a siletz and seeming like he was fighting a strong urge to just make a break for the bedroom.

He leaned in closer again. This was familiar territory. This he knew, and he could feel his tension dissolving in the warmth of Yokozawa's fluster.

"Well, I did tell him to leave us to it," he murmured into Yokozawa's neck, smirk widening at the way Yokozawa instantly stiffened. Really, just who did the guy think he was fooling when his pulse was racing a mile a minute?

"G-get off, don't you have any shame whatsoever?" Yokozawa said, making to push away. Kirishima felt tendrils of the dark he kept so firmly locked away spiderwebbing like a network of fragile, hypersensitive nerves through his chest.

"Oh, you know I'm absolutely wanton when it comes to you~" and no, he was not showing this part of himself to Yokozawa.

"W-who the hell would think like that..." Yokozawa fumbled for words, adorably, and Kirishima knew that he probably had a few screws loose when it came to him, but everything the bear-like man said or did invariably translated as such.

"Oh, it's just the effect you have on me~" Kirishima grabbed Yokozawa's hand, bringing his lips to it. Heat rushed up his spine, lodging itself firmly in his brain and fevering his thoughts, little by little. "Now, will you come to bed with me, or will I have to carry my blushing bride there?"

And the way Yokozawa's pulse sped up as he pushed him off with all his strength before stomping his way to the bedroom with a get here before I lock you out did absolutely nothing to abate the fever snaking tendrils through him.

---

Kirishima let out a quiet moan into Yokozawa's hair as he sheathed himself fully in the younger man's searing heat.

"Ah! Sh-shit," the man under him shuddered, entire body trembling as he fought to ground himself, and Kirishima could only imagine just how intense this must be for him. He felt dizzied by the heat, and he wasn't even the one taking it.