Haru/Rin/Omi.
As requested by my new favoritest anon ever. So, so, NC-17.
The first time, they could blame on the mistletoe, and the second time could be attributed to the strange euphoric effect of the applesauce, and they'd managed to find excuses for every subsequent time, but...they weren't in camp any more.
Not that it was stopping them.
"No," Rin said, holding Omi back with one hand. "No hugging."
"She has issues," Haru said, stopping his nibbling of her ear to explain.
She's got an encyclopedia, Omi thought, but that didn't stop him from kneeling down. She was wearing a black leather miniskirt today, something she hadn't had in camp, and he couldn't resist running his hands up her thighs. He could smell her scent under the leather.
"You're both wearing too much," Haru said, and Omi watched him reach around Rin and slip her bustier off. There were no camp rules in their way this time, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.
Haru cupped Rin's breasts in his hands and kissed her again, and Omi felt like an intruder.
Rin broke off the kiss and looked down at him. "Don't just look at me," she commanded. "Do something."
"You don't have to be so--" Haru said, but Omi lost the rest of the sentence as he pushed up Rin's skirt. She smelled amazing, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders as he nuzzled against her satin panties. She was wet, moisture soaking the panties into a darker shade, and she spread her legs further to give him better access. He slipped his thumb over where he thought her clit should be, and her moan of pleasure told him he'd guessed right.
God. She shivered, and Haru reached down and pulled at her panties, smooth light skin and impossibly dark hair, and Omi watched, spellbound, as he pulled her back against him.
"Go ahead," Haru said softly.
Omi leaned up and licked. Rin's skin was slick against his mouth, salty with sweat and...God, women tasted good. She tasted good. Her nails were pressing into his shoulders through his shirt now, sharp pain, hot, good. He reached down and rubbed his dick through his pants, painfully hard, his hands too shaky now to attempt the zipper.
"Omi," Haru said, and brushed a hand along his cheek, pushing his head back slightly. Omi frowned, confused, but Haru slipped a finger into his mouth, and he sucked on it while Haru--
Oh.
Oh God.
Rin shifted her weight and slid onto Haru's cock. Omi watched them for a few moments, rocking together, finding the right position, Rin moaning approval. Haru pulled his finger back out of Omi's mouth and pulled him forward by the hair, and then Omi was licking at them both, Haru's cock, Rin's clit, soft wet hard good--
Rin reached down and tugged at Omi's shirt, and together they pulled it off, Haru whimpering as Omi's mouth left his cock. Omi leaned back in and teased Rin's clit with his tongue, reaching with his free hand to Haru's balls. Rin was bracing most of her weight against Omi now; his shoulders were probably going to bruise.
He didn't mind.
Haru came inside Rin with a gasp, and she snarled in frustration. Omi moved his hand from Haru back to Rin, brushing his thumb against her clit, and she bucked against him.
He lost track of Haru for a moment; he was still licking at Rin, tasting Haru's come now, and so it came as a shock when Haru traced a slim finger along the fly of Omi's pants. "Come on," he said gently. "Let me."
Omi moved his hand to Rin, sliding a finger into her body, then two, feeling the impossible, slick heat, as Haru opened Omi's fly and dipped his head down.
Haru's blowjob was wet and sloppy and perfect, scrape of teeth against the head of Omi's cock, and Omi writhed against the suction, hoping he was still making Rin feel good, listening for a moan or a complaint that would give him an idea.
But Rin had fallen completely silent; she still moved against him, rocking her hips, and he kept moving his thumb, varying the motions to try to find--
There. A light side-to-side motion made her cry out loud, making desperate, whimpering sounds until she rocked, frenzied, against him, and came to a very quiet standstill.
"Are you--?"
"Yeah," she said, catching her breath. "You couldn't tell?"
He was struggling for an answer when Haru took him in deep, tight, hot suction, and the world exploded into light, color, feel.
When he caught his breath, Rin had sunk down beside them, and they were tangled together in a bizarre heap, Omi leaning against Haru leaning against Rin. Haru grabbed a strand of her hair and tickled at Omi's bare stomach, and they both pushed him away.
"That...that..." Omi mentally struggled for an excuse. "Why did that happen?"
They thought about it for a while.
"That happened," Rin said finally, "because we like fucking each other."
"Mmm," Haru agreed, snuggling against her.
"Okay," Omi said, as Rin leaned over to kiss him. "That works."
The first time, they could blame on the mistletoe, and the second time could be attributed to the strange euphoric effect of the applesauce, and they'd managed to find excuses for every subsequent time, but...they weren't in camp any more.
Not that it was stopping them.
"No," Rin said, holding Omi back with one hand. "No hugging."
"She has issues," Haru said, stopping his nibbling of her ear to explain.
She's got an encyclopedia, Omi thought, but that didn't stop him from kneeling down. She was wearing a black leather miniskirt today, something she hadn't had in camp, and he couldn't resist running his hands up her thighs. He could smell her scent under the leather.
"You're both wearing too much," Haru said, and Omi watched him reach around Rin and slip her bustier off. There were no camp rules in their way this time, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.
Haru cupped Rin's breasts in his hands and kissed her again, and Omi felt like an intruder.
Rin broke off the kiss and looked down at him. "Don't just look at me," she commanded. "Do something."
"You don't have to be so--" Haru said, but Omi lost the rest of the sentence as he pushed up Rin's skirt. She smelled amazing, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders as he nuzzled against her satin panties. She was wet, moisture soaking the panties into a darker shade, and she spread her legs further to give him better access. He slipped his thumb over where he thought her clit should be, and her moan of pleasure told him he'd guessed right.
God. She shivered, and Haru reached down and pulled at her panties, smooth light skin and impossibly dark hair, and Omi watched, spellbound, as he pulled her back against him.
"Go ahead," Haru said softly.
Omi leaned up and licked. Rin's skin was slick against his mouth, salty with sweat and...God, women tasted good. She tasted good. Her nails were pressing into his shoulders through his shirt now, sharp pain, hot, good. He reached down and rubbed his dick through his pants, painfully hard, his hands too shaky now to attempt the zipper.
"Omi," Haru said, and brushed a hand along his cheek, pushing his head back slightly. Omi frowned, confused, but Haru slipped a finger into his mouth, and he sucked on it while Haru--
Oh.
Oh God.
Rin shifted her weight and slid onto Haru's cock. Omi watched them for a few moments, rocking together, finding the right position, Rin moaning approval. Haru pulled his finger back out of Omi's mouth and pulled him forward by the hair, and then Omi was licking at them both, Haru's cock, Rin's clit, soft wet hard good--
Rin reached down and tugged at Omi's shirt, and together they pulled it off, Haru whimpering as Omi's mouth left his cock. Omi leaned back in and teased Rin's clit with his tongue, reaching with his free hand to Haru's balls. Rin was bracing most of her weight against Omi now; his shoulders were probably going to bruise.
He didn't mind.
Haru came inside Rin with a gasp, and she snarled in frustration. Omi moved his hand from Haru back to Rin, brushing his thumb against her clit, and she bucked against him.
He lost track of Haru for a moment; he was still licking at Rin, tasting Haru's come now, and so it came as a shock when Haru traced a slim finger along the fly of Omi's pants. "Come on," he said gently. "Let me."
Omi moved his hand to Rin, sliding a finger into her body, then two, feeling the impossible, slick heat, as Haru opened Omi's fly and dipped his head down.
Haru's blowjob was wet and sloppy and perfect, scrape of teeth against the head of Omi's cock, and Omi writhed against the suction, hoping he was still making Rin feel good, listening for a moan or a complaint that would give him an idea.
But Rin had fallen completely silent; she still moved against him, rocking her hips, and he kept moving his thumb, varying the motions to try to find--
There. A light side-to-side motion made her cry out loud, making desperate, whimpering sounds until she rocked, frenzied, against him, and came to a very quiet standstill.
"Are you--?"
"Yeah," she said, catching her breath. "You couldn't tell?"
He was struggling for an answer when Haru took him in deep, tight, hot suction, and the world exploded into light, color, feel.
When he caught his breath, Rin had sunk down beside them, and they were tangled together in a bizarre heap, Omi leaning against Haru leaning against Rin. Haru grabbed a strand of her hair and tickled at Omi's bare stomach, and they both pushed him away.
"That...that..." Omi mentally struggled for an excuse. "Why did that happen?"
They thought about it for a while.
"That happened," Rin said finally, "because we like fucking each other."
"Mmm," Haru agreed, snuggling against her.
"Okay," Omi said, as Rin leaned over to kiss him. "That works."