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Isshiki has seen all his Polar Star dorm mates masturbating at one point or another. It’s not something he aims to do, but when you poke your head through the ceiling during the night at regular intervals it just sort of happens.
The first couple of times they usually blush bright red, stammer and stop, but after a couple of times, most of them either yell or throw stuff or yell and throw stuff until he backs off and disappears back into the attic to bother somebody else. The exception being Tadokoro who still blushes and refuses to meet his eyes for days afterwards, and Ibusaki who, after startling the first time, always just smirks up at him, one hand moving lazily over his cock, the other sliding down his stomach.
Isshiki doesn’t usually linger longer than it takes for whoever it is to notice him and react — he learns things through their reactions, and anyway it’s an upperclassman’s duty to instill some strength and mental fortitude in the underclassmen, otherwise they’d never survive — but Ibusaki is different. Ibusaki wants him to look. So Isshiki does. Not all the time, not every time, but more often than he probably should.
It’s not something they talk about.
Ibusaki will call him out on anything else, but not that. Isshiki hasn’t figured out why yet. It can’t be embarrassment, because Ibusaki is never embarrassed.
When Yukihira joins them, it takes a few weeks before Isshiki pokes his head down to find Yukihira with a fist around his cock, but when he does, it turns out that Yukihira will shout, throw stuff and find a way to feed Isshiki his newest revolting food experiment. It isn’t going to stop Isshiki from doing it again but he does admire the technique.
Marui nudges his glasses up and peers skeptically at the food offerings, while Ibusaki laughs quietly at both of them, and Tadokoro looks like she’s about to sympathy puke. Isshiki is mostly happy there aren’t more dorm mates hanging around in the kitchen at this early hour, watching Isshiki slowly turn pale green and run to the sink while Yukihira looks on and smirks in triumph.
Yukihira is an overconfident dick at times, but Isshiki sort of likes that about him. Yukihira also gets the best reactions from Erina, and Isshiki definitely likes that.
A week later, he pokes his head through Marui’s ceiling, and nearly falls through it, elbows banging against the hole he’s made in the ceiling, when he sees Ibusaki in Marui’s bed, flat on his back, being fucked by Marui. Somehow this has never happened before. If anybody else are hooking up, they’re either doing it outside the dorms, or he’s somehow managed to miss it. He starts to back away, because even he has limits, pausing when he hears his name called.
“Isshiki,” Ibusaki says, and Marui slows down and turns his head to look up, meeting Isshiki’s shocked gaze. Ibusaki’s eyes are still hidden behind his fringe, but Isshiki can tell he’s staring at him. “You can stay, if you want.”
Marui is flushed, but he nods. He’s got a hand around Ibusaki’s thigh, holding him up and in place.
Isshiki is, for once, taken completely aback. “I… What?”
“You like watching,” Ibusaki says, like it’s obvious.
“We talked about it,” Marui adds, smiling a little nervously. “It’s okay.” He’s moving again, and Ibusaki is moaning, and Isshiki… stays.
They’re putting on a show for him, making sure he can see exactly what they’re doing. Ibusaki throws his head back, mouth open to let shaky little moans escape as Marui fucks into him carefully and thoroughly. This is clearly not the first time they’re doing this. Isshiki doesn’t understand how he could have missed that the two of them were together.
Marui’s hands are firm on Ibusaki’s hips and thighs, moving Ibusaki into his lap. He’s kneeling between Ibusaki’s legs, and Isshiki isn’t sure how comfortable this is for either of them, but it does mean that Isshiki can see all of what they’re doing. He’s looking down just slightly over Marui’s shoulder, and when Marui leans back a little he has an excellent view of the way Marui is fucking into Ibusaki.
“You like it?” Ibusaki asks. He moving his hand down to curl it around his cock, jerking off with the same lazy strokes Isshiki is used to seeing him use on himself. It’s an odd bit of familiarity in a very unfamiliar setting. “You like watching me get fucked?”
Isshiki has lost his ability to speak, but he can feel the blush creeping up his face, burning in his cheeks. Judging by Ibusaki’s smirk he takes that for the answer it is.
Marui pauses again. He says something too low for Isshiki to catch, and then Ibusaki takes his hand off his cock, uses his elbows to push up from the bed and ends up sitting in Marui’s lap, both of them grimacing until they adjust. Marui pulls Ibusaki into a open mouthed kiss, Isshiki can see their tongues curling together before they separate again, Ibusaki throwing his head back. His fringe falls out of his eyes and he meets Isshiki’s gaze head on.
“I can’t… I really need to come,” Marui breathes, hands clenching at Ibusaki’s waist. “Shun, please!”
Ibusaki’s lips pull up in an open mouthed grin. “Isshiki? What do you say?”
Isshiki nods repeatedly before regaining the ability to speak. “Yes. Yeah. You should… Yes.”
Ibusaki keeps his gaze until he’s distracted by the way Marui fucking him. He places his hands on Marui’s shoulders, holding on tightly.
Isshiki stays until they’ve both come, hands clenched into fists to keep from touching himself. He wants to so badly, but it would feel like giving in. Ibusaki and Marui have clearly planned this encounter, they were ready for him, they wanted him to watch as they fucked. He is, he can’t tear his eyes away, but touching himself would be admitting how much he likes this and he can’t do that.
Isshiki ends up in the kitchen garden afterwards, flushed, off-kilter and uncharacteristically uncertain. He’s not sure what this means. Isshiki isn’t sure if they’re mocking him, teasing him, or taking a weird, but very efficient, revenge for all the times he’s surprised them jerking off in the middle the night. But it has to be one of the above, right? He’d thought that Ibusaki was attracted to him, that he wanted Isshiki — Isshiki is perfectly aware of what he looks like, he knows people like it — but, but Ibusaki was in bed with Marui… But they’d said it was okay for him to watch. They’d wanted him to watch.
He’d liked it.
He likes Ibusaki, too, and he’s always found Marui cute. But if they’re together…
It’s confusing.
He avoids being on his own with them, after, until Ibusaki and Marui corner him in his own room of all places.
“We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Marui says earnestly, and Isshiki laughs in surprise. Isshiki always intends to make people uncomfortable. To do it unintentionally seems strange somehow. Marui blinks and adjusts his glasses. “Ibusaki thought… I mean, I did, as well, but Ibusaki…”
Ibusaki bumps his shoulder against Marui’s comfortingly. “I thought you liked watching more than you liked being a part of it. You’ve never done anything.” In his words is the undercurrent of a year of watching and being watched. Isshiki hadn’t thought the way Ibusaki invited his look when he was jerking off as an invitation for anything other than watching, but maybe it had been.
Marui nods. Marui, who blushes and squeaks and hides under his blanket those rare times Isshiki sees him do anything sexual. Except when he’s with Ibusaki apparently.
They’re standing together, but their body language is open, directed towards Isshiki. Marui seems a little nervous, but Ibusaki seems mostly expectant.
And suddenly Isshiki understands something that should really have been his first guess. “Oh! You are into me! Both of you!”
There’s a confused twist to Ibusaki’s mouth. “Yes?” He turns his head a little towards Marui, who looks confused as well.
“Sorry, I didn’t get it.” Isshiki has been at the school long enough that he finds it difficult to admit to not being all knowing. “I thought… I thought you were teasing me. Getting back at me. Like Yukihara?”
Marui shakes his head.
“No. I — we — would have invited you to join in, but we didn’t think you wanted to.” Ibusaki tilts his head. “Were we wrong?”
“…Yes,” Isshiki says after thinking about it. He’s a flirt, but he’s not as experienced sexually as he suspects the underclassmen believe. This is something he has to think about. He likes wandering around with no clothes on, it’s true, but that’s not actually sexual to him. Sensual, maybe, but that’s different. “I do like watching, you weren’t wrong there, but I’m not against participating. With the right people, of course.”
“Not Erina,” Ibusaki says flatly, and Isshiki laughs.
“No, not Erina,” he agrees. He loves riling her up, but he has no serious interest in her. “She’s fun though.”
Marui bites his lip. “And not me?” he says. He sounds young, suddenly. Uncertain. The way he’d sounded before they’d started invading his room for their nighttime parties. “It’s okay if—“
Ibusaki grabs his hand firmly, cutting him off. “No, it isn’t. It’s both of us.” He uses his free hand to actually push his fringe out of his eyes, revealing bright eyes. “Come on, Zenji. We talked about this. It’s you and me, or nothing.”
Marui looks at him, wide-eyed behind his glasses.
Isshiki worries about Marui more than he worries about anybody else in his dorm, so he’s absolutely fine with this. “All right,” he says, suddenly decisive. “I’ll join you next time?”
Ibusaki smiles at him and Marui blushes.
Isshiki is still not entirely sure what he just got himself into. He wants to find out though.