Ouran High School Host Club, Kaoru/Haruhi/Hikaru, work
[Mediocre and lame pr0n is mediocre and lame.]
They were on her the instant she walked in the door--Kaoru in front of her, unbuttoning her blazer, Hikaru to her side, pulling her hair out of its tight bun. She knew better than to make so much as a sound of protest, because that would only get them more riled up. "Besides," Hikaru would say, "we designed this outfit ourselves--"
"--for you!" Kaoru would add.
"So we're allowed to take it off whenever we want."
But she didn't complain, and they didn't say anything, except when they pulled her camisole off over her head--in tandem, like she was a bicycle they were going to ride (which, when she thought about it, wasn't too inaccurate a thought)--and Hikaru made a noise of surprise, as if he were seeing her half-naked for the first time. Which he wasn't--not even close.
Kaoru had the presence of mind to close the door behind her, and Haruhi and Hikaru of them stumbled into the living room with Hikaru attempting to remove his pants while dragging Haruhi along with him. Her shin bumped the coffee table and jostled his and Kaoru's sketches; there was going to be a bruise tomorrow.
Kaoru came behind her and unhooked her bra. "Welcome home," he said, pressed his lips to her shoulder.
"How was work today?" Hikaru asked, manoevuring her down onto the couch between him and his twin.
She kept her face deliberately blank and her body still even as Kaoru trailed a line of kisses down her back, which was normally guaranteed to make her shiver. "I won my case. Did you two get anything done?" she asked. Hikaru frowned and pushed up her skirt, half-rough, half-gentle, and made to yank her underwear off, except he ended up grabbing at nothing. Haruhi nearly broke down and smiled when he looked up into her eyes, shocked and grinning.
It was Kaoru who said, "We've been working on our evening gowns." Hikaru lay down on his stomach and spread her legs, and she shut her eyes at the feeling of his clever wet tongue between her legs.
"Is that so?" she said. Kaoru cupped her breasts in the palms of his hands and played with her nipples, lazy and unhurried in contrast to his brother's urgency. His fingertips, she noted, fighting the urge to grab Hikaru's hair and make him do it harder, were stippled with little scars from all the times he'd pricked himself sewing by hand. She could feel Kaoru's erection at the small of her back and she shifted a little to reach behind her and slip him out of his pants (she was not selfish), but he caught her hand and Hikaru's tongue finally made it to her clit and she bit back a moan. Kaoru--like he knew--pinched her nipple with his free hand and she turned around to kiss him, hard.
Kaoru smiled into her mouth and let go of her hand and unzipped his pants and then he broke the kiss and said, "We want you to model them for us. But now--"
Hikaru drew back, and Haruhi grabbed for his hair, but he smiled and moved out of reach and pulled her skirt off. "We'd prefer you wearing nothing at all."