Shuuhei is a Slut

A/N: This. . . this is what happens when I visit 4chan. If this works out the way I intend it, it'll be a series of oneshots, but I think they'll all be in the same "universe," so to speak. There might even be overarching plotlines. Who knows. Review if you'd like to see more. As the title suggests, most will probably focus on Shuuhei, but that could change.

Title: Sure, Why Not?
Pairing: Ichigo/Keigo/Shuuhei
Warnings: Threesome, double penetration

Breathe—that was the key. Clench his teeth, sure, but he had to remember to breathe.

Shuuhei was certainly larger than Ichigo was used to, but Shuuhei seemed to know that. A slow, gradual entrance.

“You okay, Ichigo?” he said.

Ichigo grunted in the affirmative.

A little more left, then they were pressed too close to even see the fun bits. Shuuhei waited a bit more before gently pulling back out, then pushed back in. Ichigo's hands gripped the sheets at that point, but his face was already begging for more. And more he got.

It's not just about going faster or harder, though, you see. He angled himself slightly—only slightly—and pushed a tad more forcefully, and thank god Ichigo had that pillow in front of him or he'd be howling. Shuuhei grabbed hold of Ichigo's hips, for stability, but it would take more than that to unsteady Ichigo.

Still, it must feel nice to have in hand, the smooth pale skin tinged with muscle.

Really, though, this Shuuhei was hardly breaking a sweat, looked like he could keep going a good while yet—longer than either of them, at least. It was hardly fair.

He did seem taken by surprise when Keigo pressed against his backside, though. Barely any preparation—not that he really needed it—before he was in and going at it.

It takes a certain skill to manage such a situation: a skill Keigo did not posses—but it looked like Shuuhei knew what he was doing, knew how best to keep rhythm. He had to stop for a bit, first, to get a feel for it, but he was back to shoving himself up Ichigo's ass in no time.

Shuuhei was not Ichigo; he felt. . . different, somehow, though in an indefinable manner. Not in a bad way, though—just different. It was hard to describe, this difference, but he decided not to think about it. Rather feel the rest of him too, like Shuuhei was Ichigo. Nice abs. Ichigo was mewling up front as usual; always the vocal lover, not that he was any quieter himself.

Shuuhei was reaching around to stroke Ichigo, now, slow and gentle like. Just enough to bring him up to speed, though, then he stopped.

“I want to try something,” he said. He motioned for Keigo to pull out as well.

The box of condoms was just out of his reach, so Shuuhei had to get up to get one. He'd flipped Ichigo over on his back already, but he seemed to have gotten distracted. Nothing wrong with wanting to give the guy a blowjob.

But Keigo didn't much feel like being left out—leaned down and kissed him, playing with a nipple at the same time. Ichigo really liked that. He was surprised Ichigo hadn't come yet, to be honest.

Shuuhei stopped again, put the condom on Ichigo and moved Keigo out of the way. He lowered himself, and Ichigo was all the way in before he could blink.

Ichigo thrust upwards, tentatively at first, slowly gaining speed as he went.

“You too, Keigo,” Shuuhei said after a minute. “It's been a while since I've done this, but it shouldn't be too bad.”

Ichigo stopped to let Keigo in.

Shuuhei almost screamed. Almost. His toes curled into the sheets and his back arched and his breath hitched all at the same time. Then leaned forward into Ichigo's chest.

It felt odd to have another dick in there with him. Good-odd. Extra friction and rubbing were always a plus. Only, it took a bit to reach a pace where one of them didn't slip out every twenty seconds or so.

Shuuhei was enjoying himself, though, what with the moaning and the panting and the visible signs of pleasure everywhere on his body. Keigo hadn't even thought it possible to display euphoria via the belly button. He was wrong.

But at this rate they weren't either of them going to last very much longer. Ichigo already had his almost-there face on, and Keigo wasn't too far behind. Shuuhei just looked like he was enjoying himself. A minute later and Ichigo was coming followed by Keigo—Shuuhei still hard as a rock.

“I'll take care of that for you,” Keigo said. Crawled over and started pumping it, reached over to get a condom from Ichigo.

It was necessary to prepare Keigo first, lube and fingers—the usual. A bit of stretching for good measure. The guy had it down almost to an art, so it didn't take particularly long before they could start.

By the look on his face, Keigo thought maybe Shuuhei'd figured out who preferred which position and how often he got practice at it. He took it as a compliment. But it wouldn't be too long before Shuuhei wouldn't be able to think of anything at all. He kissed Shuuhei—Ichigo hadn't said no kissing—and wrapped his arms around him and dug his fingers into the man's back. Up and down he went, taking careful pains to do the best fucking job he'd ever done, pun intended.

Eventually, though, Shuuhei took charge, flipped them over so he was on top instead and thrusting. Fast and hard, this time.

Moaning—more like screaming—and legs wrapped ever tighter around Shuuhei and the feel of him pressing against him like that, smooth muscled flesh against young and lean. Good kisser, too.

Pressed so close was he against Keigo he needn't even bother his hands with jerking himself off, not that he could move them from where they were. Keigo half-wondered if they weren't stuck like that, digging into Shuuhei's back. All of it. . . all of it was more than enough, almost too much, even that he couldn't even think how it could be better.

Poor Ichigo could only watch and stroke himself, so occupied were they. But he rather liked watching, after all.

Shuuhei came at long last—How much stamina does the guy have?—but Keigo wasn't quite there. That's where Ichigo came in.

Ichigo knew Keigo well after all the time they'd spent together, knew right where to thrust and how hard to get the desired effect—didn't even take very long, really. It was quite a spray, though, especially for the third time that night, but the clenching of his ass made short work of what little restraint Ichigo had left.

They were at this point all of them tired. Damn, fucking tired, at that. But they were pretty fucking happy too. Keigo would have to remember to thank Rukia later—that could wait till morning, though. He snuggled up to Ichigo's chest and drifted to sleep.

Earlier that day, lunch.

He'd only ever do it when he thought no one was looking, but dammit if Keigo didn't love it when Ichigo played with his hair like that. 'Tis a fair thought, to lie in a man's lap and all that.

“Have you ever thought about having a threesome?” When did Rukia get here?

Ichigo didn't much care for the intrusion in his personal life, but Keigo was intrigued.

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Ichigo said with more than a little embarrassment.

“I know a guy,” she said, “who's interested.”

Keigo thought he should probably take over from here. “Go on,” he said—“Who is it?”

“It's a surprise. I'll send him over to Ichigo's tonight. Oh, and don't forget the condoms.”

"Sure, why not?" Keigo said, and Ichigo could only agree.

Night fell early, but he and Ichigo were ready and waiting. Well, not so much waiting as making out—and then some—when Shuuhei came in from the window.

“Oh, Ichigo!” Keigo shouted, “Why didn't you tell me you had such hot friends?” He already was up and grabbing at him. Shuuhei looked more than a little nervous, which is probably why he didn't say much of anything.

Keigo wasn't even back on the bed a minute before his pants were around his ankles and Ichigo was blowing him. He looked over to Shuuhei—When had he taken his pants off?—who was poking through his shorts. A little shy at first, he crept over and Keigo took him in his mouth. Shuuhei approved vocally, even as Keigo came. Dammit, not already.

Ichigo got up and took off the rest of his clothes, got on his knees and offered his ass to Shuuhei.

“Condoms and lube're on the table,” he said.

Shuuhei was very careful to properly prepare Ichigo beforehand. Never hurts to be too cautious regarding anal.

“You ready?” Shuuhei asked.

“Yeah,” Ichigo said.

And so—condom on, lube applied, ass stretched—he pushed in.

The next day.

“Where the hell did you get those?!” Ichigo screamed, the bad kind.

“Shuuhei owed me a favor,” Rukia said. “You didn't notice the camera?”

“Well, no,” Keigo said, “we were pretty busy at the time.”

“This is definitely an invasion of privacy,” Ichigo said.

“Yes, but the Shinigami Women's Association will absolutely love these,” she said, waving the damn pictures in their faces. “If it makes you feel any better, I'll be keeping the video for myself.”

Ichigo hung his head in defeat.

Looking at it from a certain angle, though, Keigo couldn't help but laugh at it all. Laughed until he could barely breathe anymore, tears streaming from his eyes and everything. Face redder and redder yet. Doubled over and gripping his stomach, almost in pain. Almost.

It was worth it.