Work Text:
Yuma sipped at the whiskey he was supposed to enjoy, letting it burn down his throat as his eyes wandered across the dimly lit bar, the smooth jazz that was playing already starting to fade into white noise.
Honestly? He felt out of place. He probably was. The classy hotel he was staying at was a far cry from the cramped apartment he shared with two roommates, and obviously, he could not have afforded it if this trip wasn’t paid for by his brand new workplace. If you ask him, he caught quite a deal here: there wasn’t much for a rookie like him to do at this conference except “learn”, so this was basically a glorified vacation where he got to stay in this too-expensive hotel and sleep peacefully, for once, in the comfiest bed he had encountered in his life.
Though, if he was being honest, he would prefer if he could do more than just sleep in that bed.
Now, he wasn't some horned up teenager jumping at the first chance to get laid, nor did he find it particularly difficult to get laid on the regular. Yes, his living situation did make bringing someone over a little awkward, but it's not like that had ever stopped him. Classmates, juniors, seniors, cute girls from coffee shops, girls he lured from the library, even a few guys he enchanted by batting his eyelashes… honestly, Yuma had quite the record. His roommates were always left half-impressed, half-disgusted, and fully amazed by him going through hookups faster than they landed a single date. It always led to the same question, one that Yuma had developed a strong dislike for.
“Have you even considered actually dating any of them?”
It was usually Harua who asked that, throwing dirty glances at the door through which his companion of the night had left. Taki didn’t really care, though Yuma had a feeling that deep down, the guy pitied him and hoped he would find a love that would heal his broken soul, which was sweet - touching, even - but frankly ridiculous. Yuma didn’t go through bedmates like paper napkins because he got his heart broken at some point and couldn’t deal with that, or because of a tough childhood, or any of the sad backstories Taki’s brain had cooked up to justify love being “difficult” for him. The real answer was, actually, much simpler.
“They don’t quite do it for me.”
Yuma was, simply put, a pervert. Or at least that’s what his roommates would think of him if they knew of his rather specific taste. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t say he was quite embarrassed of said taste - he just had enough awareness of himself and of the world around him to know that indulging in this taste of his would render him exposed to the kind of judgement he would very much rather avoid, and so, he didn't.
And that brought him to the best part about this trip. He was on the other side of the country, in an unfamiliar city where no one knew him except the three coworkers he travelled with, and anyone he met here? He would likely never see their face again in his life. Short of his superior walking in on him charming someone’s pants off, there was nothing standing in the way of him having at least one night (and hopefully two) of absolutely mind blowing sex with someone straight out of his dreams - for example, one of the two women he had been stealing glances at from across the room for the last thirty minutes.
The two had already been there when Yuma had arrived in the sparsely crowded bar, sipping at the cocktails in front of them - probably something with tequila, going by the speed with which a flush had risen on their cheeks - as they chatted amiably. For all that they were straight out of Yuma’s wet dreams, they couldn’t have been more different from each other. The taller of the two looked like she had walked straight off a runway, her features sharp yet delicate, shoulder length hair styled to perfection, and the black dress she was wearing tastefully seductive, cinching in just enough to highlight her petite waist and the swell of her breasts, with just a hint of cleavage showing. The shorter of the two looked both haughtier and hotter, with sharp eyes and a sharper smile, her long hair wrapped in a bun and her half-unbuttoned shirt and short pencil skirt doing little to hide her rather endowed figure. If Yuma had to guess, they were in their thirties, well-off, and clearly married, going by the glint of silver on both of their hands. They were probably close friends, here on a girl’s night out to complain about their busy lives and boring husbands, and maybe, maybe, take this chance to try out something new. Just the idea of being that hot new thing for them to try out had Yuma feeling a little uncomfortable in his pants.
But with the way things were going, an idea was all it was going to be, because Yuma had sat in this very spot for almost forty minutes now, and all he had done was stare like a creep, all his attempts to pluck up the courage and pep talk himself into actually approaching them went down the drain the moment one of their gazes brushed over him for even a fraction of a second, leaving him flushing as he immediately looked away, holding onto the futile hope that they hadn’t noticed him staring.
Yuma froze again as the haughtier one suddenly stood up, murmuring something quickly to her friend before she started walking, heading directly in the direction of the bar, where Yuma was sitting. Yuma was suddenly very interested in the counter, hands fidgeting and eyes flitting in every direction but hers, wondering if he had finally been caught and was about to be shamed publicly for being a creep.
“Two margaritas, please.”
Yuma almost audibly sighed in relief, still staring at his half finished glass and very pointedly not at the woman who was now less than a meter away from him, her velvety voice going, despite his best efforts, straight to his dick.
“Drinking alone?”
Yuma almost jumped, turning his head slowly to find those sharp eyes fixed on him, a hint of smirk on her lips. He gulped.
“Y-yes,” he answered, cursing himself for stuttering.
“Why?” The woman asked, a hint of amusement in that beautifully rich voice. When Yuma didn’t answer, finding himself tongue-tied, she continued. “I’ve only seen people drink alone for two reasons. Either they’re drinking to drown their sorrows, which, I agree, isn't the best time to have company, or…” She let the silence linger, her smirk widening. “They’re only alone because they’re looking for company.”
Yuma felt his stomach swoop as her eyes roamed over him.
“I might be wrong,” the woman said playfully, “but I don’t think you’re here to drown your sorrows.”
Yuma felt his breath whoosh out of him. “You would be right.”
“Oh, I could tell,” she said, a hint of teasing in her voice as she grinned, “A bit of advice - next time you wanna stare at someone for thirty minutes, at least try to be subtle about it. Or, y’know, just go talk to them instead of staring.”
Yuma blushed, struggling not to look away as the woman’s knowing gaze pierced into his. But those words sounded like something that made his heart soar: encouragement. Maybe it made him a bit too brave, because he barely hesitated before smiling back, shrugging. “It’s hard not to look. You and your friend are very beautiful.”
The woman’s eyes gleamed. “I’m Fuma,” she introduced, before turning back to where her friend was sitting and - as Yuma now realized - watching them, a playful smile gracing her lips as she waved. “That’s Kei.”
“Yuma,” he offered, his mouth going a little dry, heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he realized where this was going.
Fuma’s smirk widened. “Since you’re looking for company, what do you say you join me and my beautiful friend for a drink and some chit-chat?”
Yuma nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak.
“Great,” Fuma said, before turning to the bartender. “Make that three margaritas,” she said, throwing Yuma’s still unfinished glass an apologetic glance. “I don’t think that whiskey’s really your thing.”
She reached out one slender hand towards Yuma, her wedding band gleaming tauntingly in his face. Yuma only hesitated for a quarter of a second before taking it.
“Took you long enough,” Kei complained playfully as she reached for her margarita, though her eyes lingered elsewhere, her gaze sending a prickle of heat down Yuma’s spine.
“This is Yuma,” Fuma introduced helpfully as Kei shifted on the couch, patting the space next to her for Yuma to join them. Yuma took the spot a little gingerly, trying his best not to look at the way the V-neck of Kei’s dress exposed a bit too much of her skin from this close.
“Come on,” Kei said, nudging Yuma’s margarita towards him. “There’s no need to be scared. I don’t bite!”
Yuma swallowed, taking a deep breath. If there was ever a time to not let nerves get the better of him, it was now. This was exactly what he had wanted from that night, and it had been served to him on a silver platter - he could not let himself fumble this. He took a sip of the margarita.
“I’m not scared,” he offered, letting his lips pull into a flirty, playful smile as he met Kei’s eyes. “I’m nervous. It’s not often that I meet someone as pretty as you.”
Kei’s eyes lit up, her own lips quirking up. “Good to know that mouth is good for flattery, at least.”
“Oh, trust me, it’s good for a lot of things,” Yuma said suggestively, grinning as Kei raised an amused eyebrow. “But the truth hardly counts as flattery.”
“Look at you, barely a sip of tequila and you’re showing your true colors,” Fuma joked. “Where’s the boy who was stuttering a minute ago?”
“It’s not the tequila - just the right company,” Yuma replied shamelessly, drunk on their attention and clear interest more than the alcohol. “It’s rare to meet someone who perfectly matches what you need.”
Fuma’s eyebrow quirked, eyes gleaming with mirth. “Oh yeah? And you think you perfectly match what I need?”
Yuma shrugged. “Hey, you can’t know unless you try.”
“Oh, I’ve tried,” Fuma said, rolling her eyes. “Everyone loves to talk big, but when it comes down to showing what they’ve got, they all fail to impress.”
“You haven’t tried me,” Yuma challenged. “Trust me, I’ve never failed to impress.”
Both Fuma and Kei laughed, and it should’ve been insulting, really, the way Kei patted his head like a child, but all it did was send more blood rushing in the opposite direction of his brain.
“What brings you here, anyway?” Kei asked idly, casual but probing.
“Oh, a work conference,” Yuma said, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “Nothing I’m really needed for, if I’m being honest. What about you two?”
“Work stuff as well,” Fuma said vaguely.
“Oh, you’re coworkers?” Yuma asked with interest.
Kei looked like she was holding back laughter. “Different departments, technically, but we do find ourselves working together a lot, don’t we?”
Fuma nodded. “It’s nice this way, working so closely with a friend.”
“Ah, I wish I could work with you, too, so I could see you every day,” Yuma flirted, sending both of them into another fit of laughter.
“Oh, I bet that would be fun, though we’d probably end up being your superiors if that was the case, won’t we?” Kei asked playfully.
Fuma snorted. “That would be awkward.”
They shared another laugh, and Yuma struggled not to stare as Kei patted her chest to calm herself down. He looked away just as she turned to him, curious. “But really, how old are you, Yuma?”
“Oh, I’m twenty two,” Yuma replied easily. “I’m guessing you’re… around thirty five?”
Kei gasped, clutching at her chest as she laughed. “Now, that’s definitely flattery.”
“Oh, come on, Kei,” Fuma chipped in. “You know you can easily pass for thirty.”
“You only say that because you’re biased,” Kei whined, reaching across the table to bump her hand playfully, her wedding band glinting.
“I’m not, and I genuinely thought you’re thirty five,” Yuma argued, shrugging. “And believe me when I say I do not mind the idea of you being older than that. Quite the opposite, if I’m being honest.”
Kei raised an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming. “Oh, is that so?” she asked, amused. “You’re closer to my daughter’s age than mine - by a pretty big margin,” Kei remarked, and that statement really shouldn't have sent heat rushing through Yuma the way it did. “So tell me, Yuma, what could you have to offer that would appeal to me?”
Maybe the booze was getting to him, or maybe it was just Kei’s perfume he was intoxicated by, because Yuma leaned in, closer than he was probably allowed to be to Kei’s face. Kei did not back away, lips parting as her gaze met his with as much intensity. “I could show you if you want,” Yuma said huskily, his smirk brazen. “One night, and you wouldn’t be asking that anymore.”
Kei’s smirk was full of mirth, an eyebrow raised even as her pupils were blown wide. “Is one night all you’re good for?”
Yuma was undeterred. “You can find that out, too.”
“Awfully confident of you,” Fuma interrupted, the picture of nonchalance even as both of them turned to face her. “Maybe even overconfident.”
Yuma licked his lips. “You’ll never know unless you try.”
Fuma’s gaze didn’t waver from his as she reached for her margarita, finishing it one go. She reached for her purse, her hand resurfacing with something thin and rectangular that she held out to Yuma. “Then I guess we’ll get to know tonight. Be there in an hour.”
Yuma took it, almost in a daze, eyes following Fuma as she got up and walked away, disappearing out of the doorway. Kei gave him an almost remorseful pat on the shoulder. “Next time,” she whispered, the gaze lingering over Yuma’s face making dangerous promises before she, too, left, and Yuma was alone once again, now struggling to comprehend the sheer surreality of what had just happened.
By the time he was walking down the hallway of an unfamiliar floor with Fuma’s keycard in hand, he still hadn’t quite wrapped his head around the fact that this was actually happening, that he had actually flirted his way into a gorgeous woman’s hotel room. His hands were shaking, he wasn’t sure whether it was with jitters or anticipation. The keycard almost fell out of his grip when his eyes found the number matching it.
For a moment, he hesitated. Sure, she had given him the keycard, but was it really okay for him to just… go in? Maybe it would be better to knock. Or ring the doorbell. He shook his head, taking a deep breath. She gave him the keycard. It was as good an invitation as he could get. He reached out, pressing the card against the detector… and promptly dropped it.
He cursed under his breath, pushing away the embarrassment flooding into his system as he picked it back up and hoped no one had noticed. But before he could try again, the door clicked open, and Yuma found himself facing, not Fuma, but the tall, slender beauty who had bid goodbye to him with a promise of next time a mere hour ago.
Kei looked like she was fresh out of the shower, her shoulder length hair dripping water onto the bathrobe she was wearing and on her exposed skin. Yuma could do little except watch helplessly as those droplets charted a course down her neck, over the swell of her breasts and into the valley between them, swallowing dryly and promptly forgetting about absolutely everything else.
“Thought it was you,” Kei said, her eyes gleaming, forcing Yuma to rip his eyes away to meet hers.
“Thank god, I was scared you greet everyone like this,” Yuma quipped, clearing his throat as his voice cracked.
Kei’s lips quirked. “Expecting special treatment, are we?”
“I would hope so,” Yuma said. “Unless you have your friend handing your keycard over to everyone.”
Kei laughed, eyes full of mirth as she opened the door a little wider, turning back towards the room to call, “Honey!”
For a moment, Yuma froze in fear, the wedding band on Kei’s finger suddenly a looming presence as a possibility he had not even considered popped into Yuma’s consciousness. This had been a big, big mistake. He should’ve known this was too good to be true. He had hit on a married woman - two married women, actually - and clearly, they had set him up, and now he was about to be humiliated or worse by one of their husbands. Kei turned back to him, her smirk only widening seeing the fear in his eyes.
The door opened wider, but to Yuma’s surprise, it wasn’t a man who joined Kei at the entrance. It was Fuma.
“Your boy is here,” Kei explained unnecessarily before sauntering back inside, leaving Yuma facing Fuma fully, taking in the way the rather fitting tshirst stretched around her breasts leaving little to the imagination, following it down to the curve of her hips and down her thick muscular thighs where the tshirt ended and nothing took its place.
“Like what you see?” Fuma asked, teasing.
Yuma swallowed dryly. He really needed to drink some water. “I like what I don’t see, too.”
“Well, you would have to come in for the rest, wouldn’t you?” Fuma said, smirking, holding the door open for him as she went back in. The room was bigger than Yuma’s own, probably some kind of a suite. Fuma guided him directly to the bedroom, where Kei was already waiting, sitting comfortably on the bed.
Without a word, Fuma leaned down, pulling Kei into a lingering kiss. Yuma stared as they broke apart.
“You’re married,” he said, unbelievably surprised. “To each other.”
Fuma snorted. “I thought the matching wedding bands would’ve given that away. Seems I was wrong.” She tsked. “I thought you were more observant than that, Yuma-chan.”
Yuma flushed. He was usually more observant, and in any other situation, he would’ve caught on. He should’ve caught on, he thought, feeling ridiculously stupid, but… well, he hadn’t exactly been thinking with the head on his shoulders.
“So… uhm what was this all about?” he asked a little uncomfortably as another new possibility came into focus. The two women glanced at him, confused. “Were you just… toying with me?”
Kei raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Yuma-chan. Why would we settle for just toying with you when we could actually enjoy you?” she asked, the way her gaze moved over him making him shiver. “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean we don’t have room for another.”
Fuma also looked over him, lips quirking with mild appreciation even as her eyes gave away her hunger. “Gotta say, you do make a good boytoy, though.”
They watched as the gears turned in Yuma’s head. “So this is a… thing you do?”
Fuma snorted. “Are you upset you’re not the first?” she teased, her smile widening as Yuma flushed. “Sweetie, we’ve been married longer than you’ve been alive.”
Yuma felt his dick twitch, almost sighing. “It’s very unfair how much that turns me on.”
Fuma’s lips twitched. “Is that a complaint I hear?”
“Not at all,” Yuma replied blithely, in contrast to the way he was squirming, his hands itching to move, to do something as Fuma slowly sank down on the bed, eyes never leaving his.
“Finally, we’re getting somewhere,” Fuma said, huffing as she got back up, ignoring Kei’s raised eyebrows and amused smile. “You better get to showing me that good time you promised, ‘cause so far, I’m unimpressed.”
Yuma’s eyes widened, a spark of arousal accompanying the need to prove himself, and his lips twisted into a smirk. “That’s because the night hasn’t even started yet,” he said, sauntering over to the women slowly.
“Too bad, ‘cause I’m starting to get bored-” Fuma was cut off as Yuma pulled up her face by the chin, capturing her lips in a filthy kiss. Yuma’s hand moved back, long finger brushing tantalizingly against her nape, while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Fuma didn’t let the kiss faze her visibly, but Yuma could see her breathing heavily as he pulled away. “Now that’s more like it,” she whispered, pupils blown wide as her eyes followed his lips.
“There’s more where that came from, noona,” Yuma whispered back, only realizing what he had said when Fuma’s eyebrow rose. “Can I call you noona?” he asked belatedly, hoping he hadn’t gone beet red.
“Oh, you would love to call her noona, wouldn’t you?” Kei called from beside them, where she had settled into the bed to enjoy the show, leaning on her arm in a way that made the dip of her loosely tied bathrobe even more enticing than before. “You can, of course. I bet she would enjoy that, too.”
“Aren’t you gonna show noona what more you’ve got?” Fuma joined in, the sharp edge in her teasing smirk promising an alluring danger, and Yuma dove in, eager to drink it all up, as his hands reached for the hem of her tshirt. In one swift move, the tshirt went up and over her head, and Yuma’s mouth watered at the sight it revealed. “Can I?” he asked eagerly, but Fuma’s hand was already reaching for him, pulling his head closer to her chest. Yuma wasted no time in latching on to a nipple, both of them moaning at the sensation, while his fingers played with the other. Before Yuma even noticed Kei getting up, she was joining them, her arms wrapping around her wife from behind, one of them joining Yuma’s in massaging her breast, while the other moved down, tracing a featherlight path over her belly, making Fuma twitch in anticipation. Her fingers ghosted over Fuma’s thighs, teasing, drawing a whine out of her, before finally giving her what she wanted. Fuma keened as Kei’s thumb pressed down on her clit, her back arching and pushing her tits even more into Yuma’s face, and Yuma couldn’t say he was complaining at all, mouth working furiously on her nipples, alternating with his fingers to make sure he was giving both of them enough attention.
Yuma almost jumped when he felt hands against his hips, reaching for his waistband. “You’re way too dressed for my liking,” Fuma muttered under her breath, and Yuma complied easily as she pulled down his sweats, sighing in relief as his cock sprang free.
“Oh, look at him, already so worked up,” Kei cooed, teasing, and Yuma flushed, more aroused than embarrassed.
“What can I say? It’s the effect you have on me,” Yuma flirted easily, though his voice was a little unsteady and his breathing heavy.
Fuma tittered, though her eyes ran over his length appreciatively. “You were right,” she told Kei, chuckling, apparently some inside joke Yuma was not privy to.
“It’s the hands,” Kei said, running her hands over one of Yuma’s, playing with his long fingers. “They always tell.”
Yuma flushed, his cock jumping at the attention, making the women’s grins widen.
“Pretty excited, aren’t we?” Fuma said, her hand barely ghosting over Yuma’s cock, making him inhale sharply.
“Trust me, that’s not even what I’m most excited about,” Yuma said, barely giving Fuma a chance to react before he was pushing her back and onto the bed. Fuma looked at him curiously as he lifted her legs up and pushed them back, the cold air against her bare folds making a shiver run down her body. She was already wet, be it from Kei’s ministrations or his. It didn’t matter much to Yuma, the sight of her soaked cunt making his mouth water. So he did what he had wanted to do from the moment he laid his eyes on her, and licked a fat stripe over her pussy, savoring the tang of her juices on his tongue. Fuma inhaled sharply, hips bucking up into his mouth, and that was all the encouragement he needed before he dove in, eating her pussy like a man starved. Fingers wound into his hair, long and slender, and he didn’t need to look to know they belonged to Kei, pushing him further into her wife’s cunt while murmuring encouragement into his ear.
“You’re doing so good, Yuma-chan,” she said, lips brushing over his hair. “Making noona feel so good…”
Fuma was at the mercy of his tongue, reduced to aborted whimpers as she lost herself to pleasure, and those sounds were headier than any drink they could’ve offered him.
“Come on, Fuma,” Kei encouraged eagerly. “You’ll come for Yuma-chan, won’t you?”
Fuma spasmed under him, a drawn out groan signalling her orgasm, and Kei pulled Yuma’s head back, drawing him into a kiss.
“Good job,” she said softly, and it went straight to Yuma’s head. “You did great, taking care of noona.”
Yuma couldn’t help it; a moan slipped past his lips. Kei’s lips twitched. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
Yuma let out a whine, though after all that had happened in that night, there was little left to be embarrassed about.
“You like being a good boy and doing what you’re told, don’t you?” Kei went on, fingers brushing soothingly through Yuma’s hair. “This is why you don’t like girls your own age, isn’t it? Because you’re a silly little boy who doesn’t know how to act. That’s why you need mommy to tell you what to do.”
Yuma couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, though Kei surely felt the way his dick reacted against her thigh. Her grin widened, eyes gleaming. “Now won’t you be a good boy and take care of mommy, too?”
“Yes!” Yuma squeaked, a bit too eager, and he could hear Fuma’s breathy chuckle behind him. He felt her hands on his shoulders, pulling him back onto the bed until he was on his back, both of them looking down at him consideringly. He watched as Kei undid the ties of her bathrobe, swallowing as she pushed it over her shoulders. Kei climbed over him slowly, like a cat stalking over her prey, planning her attack. She straddled him, bending down to capture his lips in another kiss, locking his hands over his head in the process.
“I bet you want a taste of mommy, don’t you?” she whispered teasingly, grin widening at Yuma’s answering whine. She pushed herself back up, crawling forward until she was on the verge of sitting on his face.
“If it’s too much, slap my thigh, okay?” she said, and Yuma nodded, already pulling at her thighs eagerly. She huffed out a laugh, letting herself close the remaining distance and moaning as she felt the heat of Yuma’s breath wash over her.
Yuma almost came on the spot, the feeling of Kei’s thick thighs bracketing his head and the taste of her on his tongue overwhelming when he had already been on edge for so long. Almost, because a hand closed painfully around his base, making him cry out.
“Not so fast,” Fuma said, playful. “You’re supposed to take care of mommy right now, aren’t you?”
Yuma nodded against Kei’s pussy, tongue working earnestly against her clit. Kei hummed appreciatively, hips bucking into his mouth. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing so good…”
The encouragement worked like a charm, Yuma’s ministrations making her breath catch. Yuma felt lightheaded, unable to process a single thought except making Kei feel good, and he gave it his all, long fingers joining his mouth in pleasuring her. Kei gasped as she felt them against her entrance, riding them eagerly as she chased her high. The sight of Kei’s perky breasts bouncing over him as she used his mouth and fingers for pleasure was one that Yuma knew he would revisit for many sleepless nights to follow.
Suddenly, there was a warmth around his dick, and Yuma gasped, his back arching as he thrust into it.
“Down, boy,” Fuma admonished, laying a firm smack on his thigh. “The only thing you need to focus on is making Kei- making mommy feel good, understood?” Yuma choked on his attempt at assent as Fuma rolled her hips, clenching around his dick, tight as a vice, before pulling off abruptly. Yuma whined. “You get too distracted,” Fuma warned, “and this stops, immediately. Got it?”
Yuma nodded, though he doubted Fuma could see, and got back to work immediately, holding back his moan even as he felt Fuma sinking down on him.
“Come on, Fuma,” Kei cooed, mischievous in a way that was almost evil. “You’re being too mean. Let the boy have his fun, too.”
“Oh, I’m giving him his fun alright,” Fuma replied, hands wrapping around Kei as she bounced on Yuma’s dick, finding their way to her nipples. Kei arched into her touch, exhaling roughly and bucking even harder against Yuma’s mouth. She was close, and Yuma could feel it. He picked up pace, pumping his fingers into her faster while his tongue played relentlessly with her clit, every gasp sending a surge of satisfaction through him. He was close, too, and holding back was getting difficult as Fuma’s pace became more brutal, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room. Gasps turned into unhindered moans as Kei unraveled, almost cutting off Yuma’s airflow in her fervor before she crashed over the edge with a guttural groan, back arching beautifully in Fuma’s grip. The sound paired with the way her thighs clenched around his head was the last straw for Yuma, and he was cumming into Fuma’s wet heat as it closed around him in a vice grip.
Yuma might have blacked out at that point, because next thing he knew, he was settled into the bed, under the covers, and much cleaner than he would’ve expected to be, with Kei’s sweet voice murmuring soothingly next to him. Fuma’s arm was wrapped around his torso, reaching over him to hold Kei’s waist, sandwiching him between them. He sighed, sleepy, sated, and cozier than he could’ve expected to be, and let his eyes close again, drifting off to sleep.
After two nights of mindblowing sex, the sense of loss that Yuma felt as he boarded his plane back to his ordinary, unfulfilling life was… unsurprising, to say the least. But neither Kei nor Fuma had asked for his contact details or made any move to create any possibility of a repeat of this fever dream of a weekend, and Yuma had enough tact to know what that meant.
It made sense, he thought. That was what he had wanted, too, hadn’t he? A weekend fling that he would never have to meet again, and that seemed to be their M.O. as well. This was hardly their first rodeo, after all, and it was not going to be the last. Yuma was just one of many who had gotten to share their bed for a memorable night or two, a notch on their bedpost, and that was all he was allowed to be to them. It was better this way, and Yuma knew it, and yet, ridiculously, it stung a little, leaving him feeling deprived and full of longing.
“How was it?” Taki asked when he returned, and Yuma blinked like an idiot for a moment before realizing he was talking about the conference.
“Oh, yeah, it was great,” Yuma said, sounding less than enthusiastic.
“I’m sure you had fun,” Harua chipped in, a little derisive. “How many girls did you bang this time?”
Yuma forced a smile. “Just two.”
Harua rolled his eyes. “At least you stuck to one per night,” he muttered.
While technically that wasn’t the case, Yuma had no intention of clarifying the details of his sexual exploits, let alone to Harua, of all people. He just shook his head and left for his room.
He went to work the next morning, and his life went seamlessly back to normal, doing grunt work for higher ups that barely even bothered to look at him. He was frustrated enough to debate the pros and cons of bringing someone his type home that night, Harua and Taki be damned, when something unusual happened.
His manager walked up to him, looking like he had swallowed a lemon. “There is a meeting with the head of marketing.”
“Okay, should I prepare your files?” Yuma asked, barely even looking up.
“No,” his manager said, sounding annoyed. “Prepare your own files.”
Yuma froze, looking up at him in confusion.
The manager sighed. “The head decided to pick some rookies to attend the meeting. For experience, she said. I don’t know what the hell possessed her.”
“Oh,” Yuma said, eyes wide, both surprised and baffled.
“Anyway, you were one of the few selected. Congratulations, I guess.” The manager grouched. “Don’t embarrass me in front of her, I beg of you.”
“Yeah, I- I won’t,” Yuma said hastily, getting to work. He had never even met the head before this, or even seen her in passing. This was the biggest opportunity he had been afforded so far, and he knew he would have to make the best of it. He could not afford to embarrass himself in front of her, for his own sake if not his manager’s.
But the moment he entered the meeting room, all of those thoughts immediately evaporated into thin air as he froze,, his brain short-circuiting for a moment at the face that met him.
“Go on, take a seat,” Fuma said sardonically, barely sparing him a glance, but Yuma had observed enough of her to notice the slight twitch of her lips. Yuma obeyed, unable to take his eyes off her.
The meeting was… normal, with Fuma evaluating different proposals and listening to their suggestions, but Yuma found himself holding his breath throughout, barely speaking unless someone put him on the spot - which Fuma did, a few too many times, but she did it to everyone, the effect of her intimidating presence clear in the panic on their faces. When the meeting ended, Yuma almost sighed in relief, but held back, maintaining a professional facade. He almost rushed to leave, trying to seem as natural as possible, but apparently, Fuma had other plans.
“Nakakita,” she called, not even looking up. “Stay back. I need to talk to you about the way you presented your proposal.”
The other two rookies patted him on the back sympathetically as they left, the people in higher ranks looking at him with pity, and then the door closed behind the last person, leaving him alone with Fuma.
Yuma gulped. “N-noona…”
Fuma tutted, still barely looking at him. “This is a professional setting, Nakakita. Is that how you’re supposed to talk to your superiors?”
Yuma’s eyes widened. “N-no, ma’am.”
“Good boy,” Fuma said lowly, a hint of smirk on her lips. She got up, reaching for his file, which he handed over with shaking hands. “I’ve got to say, I’m happy to see you again.”
“Did you- did you know all along?” Yuma asked in a whisper.
Fuma scoffed. “Did you see yourself? It’s like your job description was written on your forehead, and if I had any doubts left you were kind enough to clear them up for me. Didn’t know you were in my department, though. That was lucky.”
“Ah…” Yuma said, mouth feeling dry. “You could’ve… you could’ve just asked me for my number.”
Fuma’s lips twitched. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”
That, Yuma didn’t have an argument against, so all he could do was watch with wide eyes as Fuma pretended to pore over the file. She hummed consideringly, not looking up. “Our daughter…” she started casually, a complete non sequitur. “She’s starting uni this week.” She told him with a smile, as if chatting with a close friend. “I’m so happy and proud seeing how much she’s grown up, y’know? But, watching her leave home, it’s also sad…”
Yuma nodded mutely, unsure how he was supposed to react.
“Empty nest and all. It’s normal, of course, practically a rite of passage. Though it would be nice if there was someone to keep us company.” Fuma snapped the file shut, shaking her head. “Good presentation, Nakakita. I like your proposal.”
“Thank you,” Yuma said, surprised.
Fuma held the file out, the slight smirk on her face widening. “You should work on it a bit more, though. Iron out the kinks…” she looked up, meeting Yuma’s gaze meaningfully as he took the files. “Maybe you can submit it on Friday night. Hand it in directly to me. I’ll write down the address.”
Yuma’s eyes were impossibly wide as he accepted the card, unable to believe the words in front of him written in Fuma’s handwriting. “This… this won’t be a problem?” he asked hesitantly, trying not to sound too hopeful.
Fuma bit her lip playfully, getting up. “Let’s just say I know someone in HR.”
Yuma’s eyes followed her as she left the room, walking straight towards a tall woman who seemed to be waiting for her. A woman whose badge, if Yuma wasn’t seeing wrong, read Head of HR. Kei met his eyes, winking imperceptibly.
Yuma took a deep breath, trying to stay calm while his mind seems to be bouncing all over the walls of his head, hands shaking in anticipation. Who could’ve guessed that lurking in a hotel bar looking for a weekend fling would land him here? He surely could not have, and for once, he was very grateful for life’s surprises. He could not wait for Friday.