A.B.C.-Z, Operant Variability

Title: Operant Variability [Totsuka/Hashimoto/Goseki]
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for Goseki and Totsuka’s use of psychology on their kouhai.
Summary: Tottsu and Goseki teach Hasshi a lesson about exactly who he belongs to.
AN: During the radio show that Kame did with a bunch of people from Dream Boys, Hasshi says that he showed up late because he came in late from shopping and then went by Mis Snow Man’s dressing room first before realizing everybody was at the recording with Kame.

Also i want to say, Rachel made me do this and this is not my fault.

Operant Variability

When the radio show ends, Hashimoto turns to grin at the other members of his unit.

Totsuka and Goseki aren’t grinning back. Both of them are staring him down, arms folded, expressions stern.

“Hi, Tottsu,” Hashimoto offers, ratcheting up the grin a couple notches. “Hi, Gocchi.”

“You were late, Hasshi,” Totsuka admonishes. “What did we tell you about that?”

Hashimoto tries tilting his head next, but no dice.

“You were in Mis Snow Man’s dressing room,” Goseki says. “What did we tell you about that?”

“Um,” says Hashimoto, glancing back and forth between them, as if looking for a clue in their expressions what his next move ought to be. “You said…”

“Is Snow Man your unit?” Goseki interrupts, voice suddenly silky.

“No,” Hashimoto admits, “but…”

“Whose unit are you in, Hasshi?” Totsuka prompts.

“Yours,” Hashimoto switches to looking at Totsuka, looking for support and pouting when Totsuka’s expression remains firm, “but…”

“Whose are you, Hasshi?” Goseki interrupts again, and this time his tone says that he means business.

“Yours,” Hashimoto answers right away, then shuts his mouth.

“Good,” Totsuka says, after waiting a moment to make sure that Hashimoto is really finished. “Then get going to our dressing room like a good kouhai.”

“And no detours,” Goseki adds. He gives Hashimoto a sharp smile, and Hashimoto is out of the room before anybody else can so much as ask him where he’s going.

*****

Hashimoto sits on the couch in A.B.C.-Z’s dressing room, alone, and blows his bangs out of his face impatiently. He knows that this is a sort of punishment, being alone and bored and forced to wait for Goseki and Totsuka to show up in their own time, but that doesn’t make it any less boring or lonely. He pulls his legs, longer all the time, up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, then props his chin on his knees and puffs his cheeks.

But as soon as he hears the click of the door handle, Hashimoto smoothes his expression back out and puts his feet on the floor, so that when Totsuka and Goseki come in, Hashimoto is sitting still and attentive in the middle of the couch.

“Well, that’s better,” Totsuka says, shutting the door behind them. “Get bored?”

“Yes,” Hashimoto says, because Totsuka will know if he lies. Totsuka merely nods at his honesty, though, and Hashimoto isn’t 100% sure he didn’t imagine the flicker of amusement in Totsuka’s eyes.

“But waiting patiently, for once,” Goseki puts in, coming a few steps closer, almost within reach, but not quite. Hashimoto’s palms itch, but he stays where he is. “Although he is still wearing all his clothes.”

“You didn’t tell me to get undressed,” Hashimoto says. Goseki’s smirk gets a touch wider, and Hashimoto doesn’t bother to hide his grin that he answered the trick question right this time.

“I suppose we ought to take care of that now, then.” Totsuka comes to stand next to Goseki, both of them watching Hashimoto openly. “Go on.”

Hashimoto stands up, bringing him a couple inches closer to them, but still only toys with the hem of his T-shirt. He fidgets a little, impatient, but he’s learned about this trick too.

“Start with the shirt,” Goseki suggests, approval lurking low in his tone, and Hashimoto is careful to strip his shirt off slowly, because he knows that things turn out much better when he does what he’s told.

Much better.

“Pants?” Hashimoto asks. Questions are okay too, usually. He wants to smooth down his hair where the shirt messed it up, but knows he’s cuter when he looks sort of ruffled.

“Everything,” Totsuka agrees. While Hashimoto takes his time undoing his belt and pushing the rest of his clothing off his hips, Totsuka asks Goseki, “Decided what you want yet?”

“Mm, yes,” Goseki nods, “just not the specifics. You can sit back down, Hasshi.”

Hashimoto does. He lets his legs splay enough that Totsuka and Goseki have a good view of how he’s already getting interested, lets his hands rest on his thighs and doesn’t try to hide anything as he looks up at his senpai, waiting for his next instruction.

“You know,” Totsuka says without preamble, and Hashimoto shivers as Totsuka’s gaze travels over him, “I think our punishment may have started to lose its edge.”

“Don’t be silly.” Goseki dismisses Totsuka’s concerns. “Hasshi’s sorry, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” Hashimoto agrees. When Goseki raises an eyebrow, he adds quickly, “I won’t be late any more, Gocchi.”

Nodding his approval, Goseki tells Hashimoto that he can touch himself, and Hashimoto hisses softly when he wraps a hand around his cock. It doesn’t take him long to go from interested to fully hard, not with Totsuka and Goseki’s eyes running over his bare skin just as surely as their hands will be soon.

“Hmm,” Totsuka hums as Hashimoto gives a breathy sigh. “It’s just that he’s had quite a few punishments lately.”

“You don’t like punishing me, Tottsu?” Hashimoto asks, and this time the head tilt works exactly as it’s supposed to. Totsuka takes the few steps forward, then gets his knees up on the couch on either side of Hashimoto’s thighs, hands on the back of the couch. He’s careful to hold himself just barely above Hashimoto, making Hashimoto whimper with the torment of having Totsuka so close, warmth teasing at his skin.

“I’d rather be rewarding you,” Totsuka murmurs. He’s close enough that looking up at him is making Hashimoto’s eyes cross, so Hashimoto lets his eyes flutter shut just as Totsuka’s mouth brushes over his, once, lightly. “Whose are you?”

“Yours,” Hashimoto whispers. “Is getting rewarded much different from getting punished?”

“Not much, if we’re doing it right,” Goseki answers, and then gives a low laugh that makes goosebumps run the length of Hashimoto’s body. Another wave of them ripples over Hashimoto when Totsuka settles in his lap finally, the fabric of his jeans warm and rough against Hashimoto’s skin.

“He’s wrong.” Totsuka’s breath is warm too, brushing Hashimoto’s cheek and stirring the hair over his ear. “Maybe next time you’ll find out.”

“Tottsuuu,” Hashimoto whines in protest when Totsuka slides off his lap. He opens his eyes to find Totsuka looking down at him in amusement, and Goseki draped against Totsuka’s back. Hashimoto looks at the pair of them, sees them looking back at him. His hand is still curled around his cock, forgotten, and when his fingers tighten, he hisses in surprise.

“I decided,” Goseki announces, nosing at Totsuka’s cheek, although his eyes are still on Hashimoto. “Hasshi, you just sit right there until I tell you otherwise. You can touch yourself, but nothing else, got it?”

“Got it,” Hashimoto answers automatically, already distracted by the way Goseki’s hand is sliding under Totsuka’s shirt, and the way Totsuka tilts his head back to capture Goseki’s mouth.

It’s torture having to sit there and watch them together, which is why it’s called punishment, Hashimoto supposes. Totsuka and Goseki undress each other gradually, running their hands over each other and making out casually, but their eyes never leave Hashimoto except in brief instants when Totsuka pulls Goseki’s shirt over his head, or when Totsuka’s eyes flutter as Goseki sinks teeth into Totsuka’s shoulder.

Hashimoto squeezes his hand tighter around his cock and curls his toes against floor, but it’s torture all the same, much worse than being ignored entirely. When Goseki’s hand drifts down Totsuka’s stomach to wrap around Totsuka’s cock and strokes at the same pace as Hashimoto, Hashimoto finally cracks.

“I’m sorry!” he blurts, eyes darting from Goseki’s hand to Totsuka’s face and then back again. “I wanted to see Sana-chan and Nokkun, but I won’t do it again! I’ll come find you first next time, I promise!” Goseki just looks amused, so Hashimoto switches his pleading expression to Totsuka. “Ne, Tottsu? I’m your Z, right?”

“Well?” Totsuka asks.

“You’re such a soft touch.” Goseki rolls his eyes, but he gives Hashimoto a wink before uncurling himself from Totsuka’s back. “No wonder he never learns his lesson for long.”

“I’ll be good, really!” Hashimoto swears, making his eyes as big and wide as possible. “I’ll do whenever you tell me.”

“Of course you will,” Goseki says, and if he’s wearing his Goseki-sama Shadow King smile, Hashimoto doesn’t care so much about that so long as Totsuka and Goseki are finally, finally coming over towards the couch. “Ready to hear what I want?”

“Uh-huh.” Hashimoto bobs his head vigorously.

“Good. I want to fuck you, and I want you to fuck Tottsu.” Goseki chuckles in dark amusement at the mild “Hm” from Totsuka and the “Eh?!” from Hashimoto. “At the same time,” he clarifies when Hashimoto still looks like he’s working out a tricky math problem.

“But,” Hashimoto ventures, “how is that…”

“And you have to come last,” Goseki adds as a final condition.

“Aha,” Totsuka laughs, then laughs harder when Hashimoto pouts at him.

“But that’s impossible,” he whines, and he knows he’s been forgiven when Totsuka ruffles his hair and says sweetly that they’ll all just have to work hard together.

That doesn’t mean that they’re through teasing him, which is how Hashimoto finds himself sprawled across Totsuka’s chest, Totsuka holding Hashimoto’s wrists tightly while Goseki noses at Hashimoto’s navel.

“You should get a piercing,” Goseki says casually, flicking at the smooth expanse of Hashimoto’s stomach with the tip of his tongue.

“Gocchiiiii,” Hashimoto whines. He tries to squirm, but Totsuka’s grip on his wrists is too tight, and Goseki’s weight is pinning down his legs. “Hurry up!”

“You’re a hundred years too young to rush me, brat,” Goseki replies, and he proves it by working his way his way down the soft trail of hair down Hashimoto’s stomach as slowly as humanly possible. By the time he laps at the tip of Hashimoto’s cock, Hashimoto nearly sobs with relief.

“Wait,” Hashimoto gasps when Goseki’s mouth closes around him fully, “wait, wait!” But Goseki doesn’t wait, only swallows Hashimoto deeper, until Hashimoto is positive that he not only isn’t going to outlast the two of them, but isn’t even going to outlast the foreplay. “Gocchi, I’ll—” Hashimoto tries to yank his wrists free again, but Totsuka just shushes him and warns him about giving himself marks again. “But—”

“I said you had to come last,” Goseki lifts his head to interrupt, “but I didn’t say you couldn’t come first too.”

“Oh,” Hashimoto goes slack with relief in Totsuka’s grip, “okay then,” and then after that it takes about half a minute for Goseki to finish what he started.

“As if you were going to last ten minutes otherwise,” Goseki comments as he sits up, wiping his mouth.

Sleepy-eyed and boneless against Totsuka, Hashimoto murmurs something indistinct. Totsuka pats his head and tells him not to go to sleep just yet, since certain promises were made to him. Hashimoto scootches around enough to tilt his head back to see Totsuka’s face.

“You want me?” he asks.

“Of course I do.” Totsuka blinks back at him, eyes dark and low-lidded as well, but not with sleep. “You’re ours.”

Hashimoto hums to himself, his eyes fluttering shut and wriggling happily, as much as his position between the two of them will allow. “Mm, okay, let’s go then~,” he says, opening his eyes to grin at Goseki.

“Who’s giving the orders here?” Goseki asks mildly.

“You are.” Hashimoto stretches a little. “Sorry, Gocchi.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s go then~.”

Hashimoto lets himself be rolled over and repositioned between them, until he’s kneeling between Totsuka’s thighs, watching Totsuka stroke himself, Totsuka watching him as well. Hashimoto reaches down, but doesn’t help, only rests fingertips against the back of Totsuka’s hand.

“Mm, nice,” Goseki murmurs, his chin digging into Hashimoto’s shoulder, and Hashimoto has to agree as Totsuka glances lazily between them. “Whatever I do to you, you do to Tottsu. Got it?”

Hashimoto looks down at Totsuka, and Totsuka blinks back up at him, brown eyes trusting, cock hard in his hand.

“Got it,” he says, and Goseki reaches around Hashimoto’s waist to squeeze a blob of lube onto his fingers.

It’s hard for Hashimoto to concentrate with Goseki sliding slick fingers inside of him one at a time, but he tries to concentrate instead on how hot and slick Totsuka is around his own fingers, how Totsuka pushes down against his hand.

“Hasshi,” Totsuka murmurs when Hashimoto pushes in a third finger, eyes fluttering shut, and Hashimoto moans in response, his cock twitching at the thought of being where his fingers are. He’s getting hard again, he realizes, but ignores it for the moment in favor of thumbing at the soft skin of Totsuka’s inner thigh with his clean hand.

Hashimoto shivers when Goseki slides his fingers out. He hesitates, his fingers stilling inside Totsuka, but then after a couple seconds he copies Goseki like he’s been told.

“You first,” Goseki orders, and before Hashimoto has a chance to really process that, Goseki’s sure hands are rolling a condom onto Hashimoto’s cock and slicking him up. Hashimoto isn’t all the way hard yet, but Goseki works him until he is, curled tight along Hashimoto’s back, tight enough that Hashimoto can feel Goseki’s cock pressed against the top of his ass. Goseki gives Hashimoto a last squeeze and lets go. “Go on.”

“Okay, Tottsu?” Hashimoto asks as he leans over Totsuka. Totsuka opens his eyes, and Hashimoto sees a little amusement in them, and a lot of want, enough to make Hashimoto shiver again. “Just checking.”

Hashimoto forgets about everything else when he starts to slide inside of Totsuka, the heat and the press of it driving everything else out of his head and the air out of his lungs. He tries to keep his eyes open so that he can watch Totsuka’s face, but when he pushes past the resistance of Totsuka’s body suddenly, Hashimoto throws his head back on a moan.

“Hey,” Totsuka warns, tapping the backs of Hashimoto’s hands, and when Hashimoto opens his eyes again, he realizes that he’s squeezing his fingers so tight against Totsuka’s hips that his knuckles are white.

“Sorry!” Hashimoto pants, jerking his hands back, but Totsuka catches at Hashimoto’s wrists and tugs his hands up to press into the mattress on either side of his head. “What–”

“Sh,” Totsuka orders. He wraps arms around Hashimoto’s neck and pulls him down low enough for a kiss. Hashimoto doesn’t understand exactly what’s going on until he feels Goseki’s hands on his hips, tugging them up as Totsuka pulls Hashimoto’s shoulders down. He gets it when Goseki starts to push inside of him.

It’s too much almost immediately. Hashimoto tears his mouth away from Totsuka’s and gasps for breath, his arms trembling and threatening to spill him onto Totsuka’s chest. Goseki’s barely inside Hashimoto, and Hashimoto knows he needs to relax, but every shift of his muscles makes Totsuka twitch around his own cock, makes the blood rush louder in his ears.

“Hasshi,” Totsuka says, voice low and coaxing, and Hashimoto feels hands smooth down his sides, soothing, “Hasshi,” and Totsuka keeps repeating his name until Hashimoto can breath again, until he realizes that Goseki is the whole way inside of him and he’s the whole way inside of Totsuka, and if he so much as hiccups he’s definitely going to come right then and there.

“Tottsu,” Hashimoto murmurs, digging his fingers into the sheets because he promised and he’s being punished and he definitely can’t come yet.

“Tell you a secret?” Totsuka whispers, and it’s such a strange thing to say that Hashimoto opens his eyes so that he can furrow his brow. Totsuka’s watching him, patient, and when he knows he’s got Hashimoto’s attention, he winks. “I’m really close too.”

“Oh geez, don’t tell him that,” Goseki mutters against Hashimoto’s shoulder blade, but somehow it does make it easier, takes enough of the pressure off that Hashimoto gives a tentative rock of his hips, back against Goseki, forward into Totsuka, and the world does not in fact come crashing down around his ears.

“Mmm,” Totsuka moans, flexing his hips up into Hashimoto’s next thrust. “More, please, more…”

“Better do what he says,” Goseki advises, shifting his grip on Hashimoto’s hips, and on Hashimoto’s next thrust, Goseki’s thighs slap cleanly against his, pushing a groan from Hashimoto’s throat.

“You just don’t want to do any of the work, you—ahh,” Totsuka breaks off suddenly, and his fingers dig into Hashimoto’s skin as he arches up against him. “Like that, Hasshi, just like that.” One of his hands is suddenly missing from Hashimoto’s back, and after a second Hashimoto feels the brush of Totsuka’s knuckles against his stomach as he goes back to jerking himself off.

“Got it,” Hashimoto says, determined. He plants his knees and concentrates on keeping the angle that makes Totsuka gasp his name and clutch at his skin, ignoring the throb of his own cock and how badly he wants to touch Totsuka but can’t without upsetting his balance. “Next time?” he asks, getting a distracted hum from Totsuka. “Can we do it with me on top but with you on top?”

“Earn a reward and find out,” Totsuka answers, voice thin, and then his next breath is a sob, and Hashimoto feels a pulse of liquid heat against his stomach.

Hashimoto slows his thrusts to work Totsuka through his orgasm, breath catching at the flush across Totsuka’s nose and shivers that squeeze Totsuka tight around him. After a second to let Totsuka come down and to make sure he isn’t going to lose it himself, he asks, “Was that worth a reward?”

Totsuka opens his eyes, so dark and wide that Hashimoto feels like he could fall into them and drown, and then he gives Hashimoto a lazy, satisfied smile. “But you’re only half done, aren’t you?”

Goseki thrusts sharply to punctuate Totsuka’s statement and to remind Hashimoto that he indeed is only half done. Hashimoto moans loudly and lets his forehead drop against Totsuka’s chest, moans again when one of Totsuka’s hands strokes through his hair. He feels the other hand move against his stomach, warm and sticky, and a shudder arches Hashimoto’s spine.

“Don’t,” Hashimoto warns, voice cracking, “don’t, I’ll, aaah,” he cuts himself off with a wail as Goseki’s fingers sink deep into his hips. “Hurry, Gocchi,” he pleads, words muffled against Totsuka’s skin.

“Tcht,” Goseki grunts, “kouhai,” and then he gives another couple uneven thrusts and curses before slumping against Hashimoto’s back. “Okay, go for it.”

“Lemme help,” Totsuka offers, and Hashimoto’s just about to ask what the hell he’s talking about when Totsuka does something with some muscles that Hashimoto didn’t even know existed, and it makes fireworks explode behind Hashimoto’s eyelids.

He has no idea how long his orgasm lasts or long it is before he opens his eyes again, but when he does he’s still tucked in between Totsuka and Goseki, warm and spent and sleepy, Goseki a comforting weight against his back and Totsuka’s hand sifting slowly through his hair.

“How about now?” Hashimoto asks, and when Totsuka murmurs a question mark, reminds, “Reward?”

“We’ll see, we’ll see,” Totsuka says, but the way his hand tightens in Hashimoto’s hair tells Hashimoto that if he can keep himself punctual he’ll find out what the difference between being punished and being rewarded is next time.

“Can’t move,” Goseki complains. “I’m too old for this. Whose stupid idea was it to do this anyway?”

Hashimoto lets his eyes fall shut again, his smile curling against Totsuka’s skin as he dutifully answers, “Yours.”