Chapter Text
Reo had been looking forward to this all week—not because finals were coming up, but because it was the first time he would be studying together with Nagi as boyfriends.
He stepped barefoot into Nagi’s room, arms full of notebooks and pens and the color-coded flashcards he’d made last night.
Reo had never questioned why Nagi’s floor was carpeted. It wasn’t there the first time he came over, but sometime after he started showing up barefoot, it just… appeared. Nagi never brought it up, and Reo never asked. But now, as the soft fibers pressed into his toes, a quiet warmth bloomed in his chest.
He set his materials down on the low table in the center of the room, already mentally planning their study blocks. But then, because he was Reo, his eyes gleamed with mischief. With a quick glance toward the closed door of Nagi’s office, he abandoned his books and started rummaging around.
It started with a few drawers. A shelf or two. But when he slid open the closet door, Reo grinned wide.
Tucked near the back, hanging like it didn’t want to be found, was a skirt.
Not just any skirt—it was unmistakably part of their school’s girls’ uniform.
Reo didn’t need to ask who it belonged to. He had a pretty strong inkling as to why it was there, and the thought made his grin even wider, a smug glint lighting up in his eyes.
“Pervert,” he muttered fondly under his breath, then turned back to the table with a bounce in his step, like he’d just uncovered buried treasure.
Meanwhile, in his office, Nagi sat with his laptop open and his head resting in his palm. Reports and financial documents scrolled by on the screen. Boring. But he still gave it effort—he’d promised himself he’d finish this round of approvals before joining Reo.
He could already picture what was going on in his room, Reo barefoot, probably halfway to trouble already.
Nagi shut his laptop with a soft click, stretching a little as he stood. His work for the day was done—he’d powered through it quicker than usual, all so he could get back to Reo. He padded down the hallway, expecting to catch Reo halfway into mischief, maybe tangled up in bedsheets or digging through his drawers, humming to himself without a care.
But when he opened the door, the scene waiting for him made him pause.
Reo was seated cross-legged on the carpeted floor, hunched slightly over the low table in the middle of the room, surrounded by open textbooks and color-coded notes. His head was tilted as he read, lips slightly parted in concentration. He looked genuinely focused—serious, even.
Nagi’s brow arched slightly. He didn’t say anything.
Reo sensed his presence instantly. He looked up, a smile blooming across his face like sunlight through clouds. “Sei~ you’re back,” he sang in the spoiled, honeyed tone he always used when he wanted attention.
Nagi took a step forward, then another, about to sit down beside him. But then—he froze.
Reo was wearing a skirt.
Not just any skirt. It was the one tucked away in the back of Nagi’s closet, the one that definitely wasn’t Reo's, the one from the girls’ uniform set he’d bought once without explanation.
Nagi’s eyes trailed down Reo’s exposed thighs, long and pale against the cream carpet. The skirt barely covered anything when Reo was sitting like this. It shifted with every tiny move he made, riding up in ways that made Nagi’s brain freeze.
Reo caught the staring and tilted his head coyly. “Why aren’t you sitting, Sei?” he asked, voice low and teasing.
Nagi let out a small exasperated sigh and dropped down next to him.
Reo’s smile dimmed a little, lips tugging into a slight pout. That wasn’t the reaction he wanted. He thought Nagi would at least flinch or get flustered. Something.
But Nagi just sat there calmly, reaching for a textbook like nothing was out of the ordinary.
Reo narrowed his eyes slightly before he shifted closer to Nagi, nuzzling against his side like he always did when he wanted something. "Sei," he said, drawing out his name in a soft, coaxing whine, "can I sit on your lap?"
Nagi glanced at him, expression unreadable. Usually, he'd say yes without a second thought—but Reo was wearing a skirt right now. The one that had come from his closet. And it was so short it barely reached the top of Reo’s thighs. Nagi swallowed once, forcing his expression to stay flat and unreadable.
Reo didn’t wait for an answer. He was already climbing halfway into Nagi’s lap, arms wrapping around Nagi’s neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. His voice turned even softer, syrupy with charm. “You always let me sit on your lap…”
Nagi’s gaze dropped instinctively to the hem of the skirt again as it shifted with Reo’s movements. His brain short-circuited for a second—was Reo even wearing anything under—
He quickly looked away, jaw tightening ever so slightly.
“Reo,” he said, tone low, warning.
But Reo just smiled, triumphant. “Mm? What’s wrong, Sei?” he asked innocently, though his eyes gleamed with mischief.
Nagi exhaled slowly.
But Reo didn’t care, he was still wrapped around Nagi like a koala, murmuring, “Sei… Sei, please?” in that soft, whiny voice that always made it harder to think.
Nagi sighed again, long and resigned, before finally moving.
Without warning, he shifted his grip and picked Reo up with ease, making the other boy yelp in surprise.
Reo barely had time to react before Nagi settled him fully onto his lap, positioning him so that he was straddling Nagi’s thighs, back to chest, facing the textbooks on the table. Nagi’s hands stayed firm around his waist, holding him steady like he wasn’t about to let him squirm his way out of it.
Then, calm as ever, Nagi dragged one of the open textbooks closer and muttered, “Study.”
Reo blinked, momentarily stunned. His heart was still fluttering from the sudden movement—but the tone in Nagi’s voice made something else flutter too. And even though Nagi’s expression stayed the same, Reo could feel the heat.
He was sitting directly on top of Nagi’s lap, after all. And with how little the skirt covered, there really wasn’t much between them. Reo flushed deeper, biting his lip as he tried to refocus on the page in front of him.
Tried—and failed.
He squirmed, just a little. Just to test. Just to see.
Nagi didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His fingers just tightened ever so slightly around Reo’s waist, anchoring him in place.
Reo pouted, lower lip jutting out.
“This isn’t fair,” he mumbled, but he still opened the book.
Nagi leaned in slightly, close enough for Reo to feel his breath against his ear.
“Study,” he repeated, voice barely above a whisper.
Reo gave a little pout but didn't argue—not yet, at least. He adjusted in Nagi’s lap, grabbed his pen, and actually started working through the questions in front of him. Nagi could feel him relax slightly, his weight settling against him as his focus shifted to the textbook.
For a while, it was quiet. Peaceful, even. Reo managed to get through a few problems, mumbling little comments under his breath as he scribbled answers.
And then… he started squirming again.
Slow and subtle. Just enough that Nagi let out a small, involuntary groan low in his throat. It was quiet, but Reo heard it—and Reo, being Reo, lit up like he’d won something.
“What’s wrong, Sei?” he asked, voice all smug and honeyed. “Something bothering you?”
Nagi’s eyes narrowed slightly. His grip on Reo’s waist tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of the skirt as he looked down at the back of Reo’s flushed neck. What a brat, Nagi thought, barely keeping himself from sighing aloud.
“Behave,” he said, warningly.
But Reo didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He squirmed again, just a little more exaggerated now, hips shifting against Nagi’s lap in a slow, teasing roll that made Nagi’s jaw tighten.
“I am behaving”, Reo said, with a fake innocence.
He could hear it in Reo’s tone—he was doing it on purpose. Playing with fire.
So Nagi leaned in. Close. Close enough that Reo probably felt the change in the air before he even moved.
And then he nipped lightly at Reo’s neck.
Reo jolted, body going still as a breathy whine escaped him. “Sei—! You’re bullying me again…”
Nagi didn’t even flinch. “Focus,” he said, tone as flat as ever.
Reo huffed, clearly sulking, but his hands returned to his notes anyway. He started answering again, quieter now, more obedient—but his lower lip was caught between his teeth, and the flush hadn’t left his cheeks.
Because it was unfair, really. How was he supposed to focus when he could feel Nagi’s breath ghosting over his skin, when Nagi’s hands were warm and slow on his waist, thumbs moving in idle circles?
Reo did his best to concentrate, stubbornly working through the next question, pen tapping lightly against the page.
But then he felt it—fingers brushing teasingly near the waistband of the skirt. Nagi’s touch dipped slightly, just enough to make Reo tense before retreating again, smoothing idle circles against his hip like nothing happened. Reo inhaled sharply through his nose, back straightening.
The pen pressed harder into the paper.
Nagi, of course, didn’t say anything. His expression probably hadn’t even changed. Reo could almost feel the amusement radiating off him. And just when he thought he had a handle on it, Nagi’s other hand moved—slipping under Reo’s shirt and resting against his stomach. The touch was warm and steady, his palm flattening against Reo’s skin with a quiet sort of confidence.
Reo’s whole body twitched, just barely. A small, involuntary shiver ran through him. His eyes stayed fixed on the textbook, even though the words were starting to blur a little.
“Nnngh…” A breathy little sound escaped before he could stop it.
He immediately cleared his throat and turned the page a little too quickly.
Nagi still hadn’t said a word.
Reo gritted his teeth lightly and tried to read the next question, but it was so hard to think when he could feel that hand, warm and unbothered, splayed against his stomach like it had always belonged there. His grip on the pen faltered for a second.
Still, he wasn’t going to give in. He wouldn’t let Nagi win that easily.
Reo tried to stay focused. He really did.
But Nagi's touch was too much and too gentle all at once. His right hand trailed up Reo’s side, brushing along sensitive skin with a kind of ease that spoke to how well he knew Reo’s body. The pads of his fingers grazed Reo’s nipple, light at first, then more deliberate—caressing, circling, pinching with just enough force to make Reo’s breath catch in his throat.
He tensed, fingers tightening on the edge of the textbook. His knuckles went white, but he didn’t make any noise. He wouldn't.
Nagi was quiet behind him, as always—breathing slow, presence steady. But he could feel the shift in his touch, the growing intent behind it. His left hand had slipped lower now, down to the waistband of Reo’s skirt. He didn’t rush. He never did. Just eased his hand beneath the fabric, palm settling against Reo’s upper thigh.
The brush of skin against skin made Reo jolt slightly. Nagi hummed softly behind him, as if amused.
His fingers moved slowly again, mapping the curve of Reo’s thigh, brushing close but not quite. Reo’s breath hitched. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to stay still, but his hands had already betrayed him—scrunching up the corners of his textbook like it might help anchor him.
He dropped his pen somewhere between the squeeze on his thigh and the way Nagi’s right thumb swept gently over his nipples.
Nagi noticed. Of course he did.
He didn’t say anything about it, just watched Reo quietly, eyes half-lidded, taking in the sight of him trembling—shoulders tense, back arched just slightly, as if trying to keep from pressing back into Nagi’s hands.
Reo made a soft, muffled noise, lips parted in a shaky breath he tried to swallow down. But it escaped anyway.
Nagi shifted his left hand, fingers trailing inward along Reo’s inner thigh now. Not rushed. Not needy. Just persistent. Like he wanted to see how long Reo could keep pretending it wasn’t affecting him.
Reo made another sound—"nn-ah!"—louder this time. Unmistakable.
He slapped both hands over his mouth instantly, eyes wide, face flushed a deep, burning red.
Nagi only exhaled slowly behind him, hands still settled on Reo like he had all the time in the world.
Nagi watched as the pen rolled on the carpet beside them. The textbook in front of Reo was wrinkled from how hard his hands had clenched it.
Nagi dipped his head low, lips brushing close to Reo’s ear.
“…Why’d you stop writing?” he asked, voice quiet, almost too calm.
His thumbs pressed gently into Reo’s skin—one circling just beneath the hem of the skirt, the other slowly teasing Reo's nipple, grazing it with his nail every so often. Reo shivered again, biting back another sound—"nn-mmph."
His hands were still over his mouth, but Nagi could feel the muffled warmth of his breaths, quick and uneven.
From this close, Nagi could see everything, the way Reo’s back trembled with effort, the small twitch of his fingers against the desk, the pink flush creeping up his neck. He was trying so hard not to give in. It was honestly kind of impressive.
But even more noticeable now was the way the skirt was tenting, the fabric straining ever so slightly over the shape pressing against it. Nagi could feel it too—Reo sitting right on top of him like this, the heat between them shared, unmistakable. His own lap became damp, and the realization pulled a low sigh from him.
With a quiet sigh, Nagi stopped, his hands returning to Reo’s waist with a firmer grip this time. “You should take your studies seriously,” he murmured, his voice calm but pointed. “Or you’re not gonna stay first in the grade.”
Reo was still shaking. He tried to cross his legs, subtly, maybe to hide the evidence of just how much Nagi’s teasing had gotten to him. “I am taking it seriously,” Reo whined, his voice small and defensive, but still breathy and strained.
Nagi gave a small, thoughtful hum. “Mm.”
And then, without warning, his hand slid back down to Reo's dick, pressing his palm flat over the heat, thumb grazing the edge. Reo jolted, letting out an unfiltered, high noise before covering his mouth with his hand again.
“Sei—!” he whined, voice pitching as Nagi pressed a little more deliberately. “W-Wait… ah…!”
Reo instinctively tried to cross his legs again, but Nagi’s other hand moved, firm and sure, keeping him from closing up completely. “Don’t do that,” Nagi said, voice low in his ear.
The wet spot was spreading slowly as Nagi continued his ministrations, and Reo was losing it—shoulders trembling, head bowed, face hidden behind one shaky hand as he tried to contain the sounds slipping out. Pages of the textbook crumpled under his grip.
“Nnh—Sei…” he whimpered, voice muffled and shaky. His body jolted with each little movement, as if even the faintest touch now was too much.
And then — nothing.
Reo flinched when Nagi pulled away completely, the sudden absence sharp, jarring. His breath caught in his throat, and he froze, trembling, like the world had dropped out from under him.
He leaned back against Nagi’s chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping him grounded. His breaths came fast and shallow, words spilling out in desperate fragments. “Sei, please—please—ah, I—I wanna—”
The words caught somewhere in his throat, tangled and useless. He didn’t know what he wanted—not really. It was like his mind had gone soft and slow, like everything inside him had turned to fog. All he knew was the ache in his chest, the way his skin buzzed with need, and how empty he suddenly felt without Nagi’s touch.
His thoughts blurred together, loose and heavy, drifting in a haze he couldn’t shake. There was no clarity, no logic—just the thick, warm weight of want pressing down on him, muddling everything else.
Nagi watched him quietly for a moment, then reached up with one hand and gently turned Reo’s flushed face toward him. Reo blinked, dazed, lips parted and trembling, and more of those soft, whiny pleas spilled out between shallow breaths—“Please, please, Sei, please…”
His voice was that same spoiled tone Nagi had grown used to, but now there was a quiver under it.
Nagi didn’t say anything.
He leaned in and kissed him—deeply, slowly, pressing their mouths together until Reo gasped into it. Nagi’s tongue slid past his lips, tasting every shaky breath, every whimper. Reo melted against him, clinging tightly, his fingers curling into the fabric of Nagi’s shirt like he’d fall apart otherwise.
When Nagi finally pulled away, he did it at his own pace—slow, deliberate, savoring the way Reo chased after the kiss even as their mouths parted.
Reo was panting, his eyes glazed and shining, cheeks flushed a warm red. His lips were swollen, and he looked like he was struggling to think.
“Come on, Reo,” Nagi murmured, dragging the textbook closer with one hand. “Let’s finish this question.”
Reo let out a choked sob, his voice cracking, “N-No… no, Sei,” he whimpered, shaking his head hard, hair bouncing with the motion. “I don’t… I don’t wanna—p-please…” His words tumbled out in a stuttered, broken whine, like each syllable was fighting its way past the lump in his throat. “I c-can’t—…”
“Reo,” Nagi warned softly.
Reo clung to him tightly, fingers digging into the fabric of Nagi’s shirt like he was afraid he’d be pulled away. His breath hitched, and when Nagi glanced down, he saw the tears welling up in Reo’s eyes, trembling at the corners.
“Sei… Sei, please,” Reo begged, voice cracking as he sobbed against his neck. “Ah—please, I want… I want…” The words came in broken gasps, barely strung together, desperate and trembling. He kept repeating it between shaky breaths, “Please, please, Sei…”
Before Nagi could respond, Reo shifted with trembling movements, turning until he was facing him, knees bracketing Nagi’s thighs as he shakily settled into his lap. His breathing was uneven, his hands still clutching at Nagi like an anchor.
Slowly—almost uncertainly—Reo began to move against him, seeking something he couldn’t quite put into words. Each motion was unsteady, drawn from a place of need more than intent. And with every shift of his hips, a sound slipped past his lips.
“Ah—hnn… ngh…” Little whimpers, breathy and soft, spilled from him with every motion, lashes fluttering shut as if even that small amount of sensation overwhelmed him. His cheeks were flushed, his voice catching in his throat as he clung tighter to Nagi’s shoulders, trembling all over.
Then Nagi’s hand came to rest on Reo’s waist, firm and unmoving, stopping him mid-motion.
Reo froze, a shaky gasp escaping his lips as he pulled back just enough to meet Nagi’s eyes. His lower lip quivered, and the tears clinging to his lashes finally slipped free, trailing down his cheeks.
“Wh-Why?” he breathed, voice cracking. “Why’d you stop— Sei, please… please, don’t—” His words came out as frantic whispers, barely holding together, every syllable soaked in desperation. “I need— Sei, I need it…”
More tears fell as he trembled in Nagi’s arms, his whole body drawn tight with emotion. “I want… I want—” he choked, breath hitching again. “Please, Sei… I want…”
Nagi sighed, the sound quiet, almost fond. Reo really was such a mess—all wound up, flushed and trembling, tears trailing down his face. And still so pretty like this. Too pretty. His voice, his pleading, the way he clung to him like he’d fall apart otherwise… it was kind of ridiculous how cute he looked crying like that.
“What do you want, Reo?” Nagi murmured, brushing a thumb gently across Reo’s damp cheek.
Reo didn’t answer. His mouth opened like he might, but no words came out—just a shaky breath, another whimper. He was too far gone, too overwhelmed to form anything coherent. His eyes were glassy, wide and wet, lashes clumped with tears as he trembled in Nagi’s arms.
Nagi tilted his head, voice dropping low and soft. “Do you wanna cum, Reo?” he asked gently. “Is that it?”
Reo gave a quick, breathless nod, still barely holding it together. He looked up at Nagi with those bright purple eyes, now clouded with tears and glistening with desperation. His lips parted again, and in the quietest, most broken whisper, “Sei…”
Nagi exhaled, something between a sigh and a breathless chuckle. “You’re such a slut, Reo,” he murmured, his voice tinged with affection—because how could it not be?
Reo let out a muffled sob, barely audible, his face still pressed into Nagi’s shoulder. "No… no, I’m not…" he choked out, the words catching on a breath, broken and wet with tears. He shook his head weakly, as if denying it would make it less true, but even as he did, he kept trying to grind against Nagi, trembling and clinging like he couldn’t bear even an inch of distance.
Nagi glanced down, “Then why are you still trying to move?” he asked gently, his tone fond as his arms tightened around Reo’s waist, anchoring him closer.
Reo’s breath hitched again. “S-Sorry… I’m… I’m sorry,” he whimpered, voice crumbling, a pitiful little thing barely held together. His fingers clutched desperately at Nagi’s shirt, knuckles white with tension, as if apologizing could undo how exposed he felt.
Nagi caught one of Reo’s trembling hands in his own, bringing it up to his lips. He kissed it softly, a fleeting, quiet press of warmth against cold skin, then held it there between them as he looked down at the boy in his lap.
Nagi leaned in close, his voice a whisper just for him.
“It’s okay,” he said, brushing his thumb gently across Reo’s wrist. “It’s my fault for spoiling you so much.”
Then he loosened his grip, his hand slipping away from Reo’s waist.
Reo didn’t waste a second. He started moving again, slowly at first, like he was still unsure if Nagi would stop him, but when there was no resistance—when Nagi just sat there and let him—Reo melted into him, like all the tension in his body had finally given way.
His arms wrapped tighter around Nagi’s neck as he buried his face into the curve of his shoulder, muffling the soft, helpless sounds that slipped from his mouth. His body trembled with each movement, every slow grind against Nagi pulling another broken whimper from deep in his throat.
“Ah… mmh—hnn…”
Nagi just watched.
He watched how Reo’s body trembled, how his breaths came out in stutters, how each desperate roll of his hips made another tear slide down from those pretty eyes. And god, Reo looked so good like this—unraveling right in his lap, voice hitching, begging so sweetly it was impossible not to give in.
The way his body shook, the way his voice cracked, the way he melted completely in Nagi’s arms—it was like watching him fall apart piece by piece, and yet still press closer, like he needed more, like he needed him.
And then, with one final shaky roll of his hips, Reo let out a moan—louder than the others, raw and breathless, somewhere between a gasp and a cry. “Aah—Sei!” It tore from his throat like he couldn’t hold it in anymore, his voice echoing with something sharp and breaking.
Then everything went still.
Reo collapsed forward, limp and trembling, his body giving out as he slumped against Nagi’s chest. His breath came in rapid, shallow pants, his whole frame shaking as he tried to come back to himself. Nagi wrapped an arm around him instinctively, the other hand coming up to gently tilt Reo’s chin, lifting his face just enough to look at him.
His expression was dazed—completely out of it—eyes half-lidded and cloudy as soft, shaky breaths escaped him.
Nagi leaned in and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to Reo’s forehead, letting it linger just a second longer than necessary. He pulled back slightly, eyes scanning Reo’s face—flushed, dazed, lips trembling.
“Open up for me,” Nagi murmured, voice low and coaxing, brushing his thumb along Reo’s jaw.
But Reo didn’t move. His lashes fluttered, but his gaze stayed unfocused, eyes hazy and distant. It was clear he wasn’t hearing him—not really. He was too far gone, lost in the haze of it all, barely holding on.
Nagi sighed quietly, fond, a little helpless.
With a featherlight touch, he brought his hand up, his fingers brushing over Reo’s lips—and then gently, patiently, pressing just enough to part them.
“There we go,” he whispered.
Then he leaned in and kissed him—slow, deep, grounding. Their mouths moved together in a rhythm that felt like it belonged to no one but them, tongues brushing in lazy, unhurried swirls that made time blur. Reo clung to him, soft and pliant, lips parting easily under Nagi’s.
They kissed like that for what felt like forever, until Nagi began to feel Reo starting to melt, sagging into him, breath hitching and chest rising in shallow gasps. His body went slack, like the strength had slowly drained from his limbs.
That’s when Nagi finally pulled back, only just, just enough to look down at him.
Reo was out of breath, eyes glassy and half-lidded, his lips swollen and glistening. He looked completely undone—and completely Nagi's.
The sight tugged at something deep in Nagi’s chest, quiet and possessive. Nagi glanced down.
Reo’s skirt was a mess—bunched from all the movement, creased, and unmistakably damp at the front where it pressed into him. The soft fabric was darkened, sticky with Reo's cum.
Nagi blinked once, then looked back up at Reo’s flushed, wrecked face, his thumb brushing lightly across his cheek.
“You ruined your skirt,” he murmured, “Brat.”