It's late in the evening on a bitter winter's day and the sun had already set long ago. Jyushimatsu invited you over with a mail at the crack of dawn on one of your days off, as he usually did. You accepted, as you usually did. You'd been enjoying yourself to the point that you'd forgotten the time and overstayed, and now the unforgiving conditions outside prevented you from returning home from the time being.

Presently, you find yourself locked in a mutual embrace with your boyfriend, clad in nothing but a simple shirt and your underwear. The rest of your clothes now formed part of the mass of garments and blankets you were both nestled deep within. They always said that close contact with minimal clothing was the optimal way to retain body heat, but this wasn't exactly a survival situation. A steadfast girlfriend, you were quietly aware of Jyushimatsu's ulterior motives and you just accepted them. It's not like you were opposed to the idea of snuggling indoors with your significant other, after all, even if his brothers occupied the same room. Jyushimatsu rarely kept still long enough to do something as stationary as cuddling together. The lack of stimulation and the modest, yet pleasant warmth of his body curling around you quickly makes your eyelids grow heavy.

A shrill drone sounds from the old kerosene heater nearby, situated in the corner of the room.

The sudden noise wrenches you back into wakefulness with a jolt. Jyushimatsu reacts as well, opening his eyes for the first time in a long while and turning his head subtly to steal a glance at the others.

More time passes. The same blissful sleepiness that came over you moments earlier doesn't return. In fact, you feel wide awake and vaguely uncomfortable. Your spine tingles when you detect a creeping chill spreading throughout the room. Their antiquated, traditional-style Japanese house was completely incapable of retaining heat.

"Jyushimatsu... am I imagining things, or did it just get colder?"

"You heard the heater." He grumbles, low and even with tightly-wound teeth, uncharacteristically serious for once. "It's out of kerosene."

"How long has it been? About five or ten minutes, surely? Why isn't anyone refilling it?"

"They're stubborn." The response is curt, but from that alone you can intuit the rest of the situation: the tank of kerosene, sitting outside in the path of freezing, unforgiving winter winds. Five oddly puerile grown men - the other Matsuno siblings - eying each other across a kotatsu, too lazy and avoidant to do anything about it.

Time continues to pass, seconds to minutes. Silence permeates the air as you go cheek-to-cheek with him and stare at the ceiling. Despite innumerable blankets, it feels as though the temperature in the room is steadily dropping. You hear no sign of movement and figure it's safe to assume nobody was taking action.

"Aahhh... I can't stand this anymore." His voice, pitched so that only you could hear him, is genuinely pained when he shivers. You squeeze your arms around him consolingly, rubbing your palms against his back in an ineffectual but sincere attempt to generate some heat from the friction. Turning the options over in your head one-by-one, you quickly arrive at the conclusion that he could easily go and do it himself if he were really serious about his objections. In the end, he was every bit as pointlessly stubborn and shitty as his brothers.

"I'll go."

"Wait, wait, wait," He constricts his arms, holding you to his chest and preventing you from getting up, "Don't do that. They don't deserve it." You decide not to comment on your earlier realization that he was equally a part of the problem. "I've got a much better idea."

"Oh? What's your idea?"

"Let's get warm. Just us."

"Eh?"

"Let's get warm."

He pushes himself off from the floor with his shoulder and a grunt of effort, inertia rolling the entire cocoon and you with it into a new position. You suddenly find yourself beneath him and the weight of half a dozen blankets, robes and coats, disoriented and now completely blind. It doesn't take him even a second to fix his large, hot mouth on the base of your neck, broad tongue slobbering and slathering erratic strokes over your flesh. The whole structure baulks as he squirms and writhes against you, seeking that perfect position. His swollen cock jabbing your stomach is what finally breaks you out of your stupor and returns your voice.

"Jyushimatsu!? Are you serious? Your brothers are right there!" You hiss below your breath, louder than you meant it to be.

"Don't care." His muffled voice creaks with need and desperation, but despite the stiffy lodged against your belly and the practically tangible quickening of his pulse, he gives pause for just a moment, as though he were giving you an opening to escape or object.

When you do neither fast enough, he dives back down to close the gap, your faces colliding clumsily into a sloppy, heated kiss. Heedlessly, he jams his tongue into your mouth, rolling it under and over your own. Copious amounts of saliva flow into your mouth, carrying a tinge of sweetness as though he'd eaten candy moments beforehand. Your wet mouths pop and squelch against one another with every movement - it was, as always, a careless and inexperienced kiss, but his intensity and enthusiasm were impossible to ignore.

Deprived of sight, there are only Jyushimatsu's unrelenting ministrations and a building heat.

Quick hands roughened by calluses dart about beneath your clothes, running palms up from your hips to your stomach, to your sternum, over breast, down the front to your belly again, then riding the curve of your waist around to the small of your back. His touch is wild and frenzied, devoid of any semblance of tenderness. You quickly lose track of where his hands are and whether their movements followed any pattern at all. Breaking the kiss, his mouth assumes a similar routine, swapping rapidly between attending your mouth, cheek, jaw and neck. A flurry of greedy hands and mouths grab, bite, stroke and kiss everything within their reach with reckless abandon.

Amidst the assault on your senses, you remember where you are. Your lover's brothers are lounging only a stone's throw away from your enclosed space and artificial privacy. You imagine what the scene outside must be like: the palpable atmosphere of discomfort, the faintly contorted facial features, the occasional guilty glance in your direction, the burning barely-concealed envy, the subtle shuffling of positions. Something in the pit of your stomach twists with perverted glee at the idea.

Panting, his breath beats against the side of your neck. Jittery with anticipation, he seizes your underwear with both hands, jerking it down past your hips. A few more hard tugs skip the feeble fabric down your thighs, over your knees and calves, then off your legs entirely. You cooperate by threading your fingers through the back of his hair, spreading yourself apart under him.

He settles into the niche you created just for him, stamping appreciative kisses on your collarbone. You notice he's pulled his clothes aside when you can feel his exposed stomach and cock flush against the bare skin of your lower half. In the darkness of the nest, your bodies begin to shuffle, seeking the right angle for penetration. He juts his hips and you can feel the head of his member missing its mark, bouncing off your clit. Another attempt and he presses awkwardly into the meat of your labia. Frustrated, both your hands fly at the space between your legs at the same time. Together, you guide him toward your entrance proper. With tip lodged neatly into your slick opening, Jyushimatsu doesn't spare even a second before he thrusts forward, burying himself balls-deep in you with a single shove.

The action sends electricity tingling to your extremities and wrenches an uninhibited, lusty groan from him, so loud and close to your ear that it makes you flinch. If his brothers outside had any doubts about what was going on, they would surely be set aside now.

"Hnnk," you choke, hoarse and near-mindless as Jyushimatsu starts to move over you, massaging that tight ache with every roll of his hips, "You feel so good."

He gives a kind of half-chuckle, half-snort in response, too single-minded about fucking you to manage much else. His arms snake through the hollow between your lower back and the floor, clinging to your waist as he ruts between your legs. It's almost too much, but you try to contain your voice. The weight of his lightly-toned, athletic form holds you firmly in place as his thrusts grow harder, fully hilting with each brisk push. You grind your hips up into him on every stroke, pleading for the sweet friction of his abdomen grazing your bud.

His tempo builds. The already sweltering air within the cocoon becomes impossibly stifling. Amidst your suppressed groans, your lungs heave, desperate for an intake of cool, fresh air. Sweat pricks your pores and causes your shirt to cling to skin. The sheer heat radiating off Jyushimatu's body as he pummels you mercilessly into the floor doesn't help the issue. Someone outside coughs loud enough to be heard over Jyushimatsu's frenetic wheezing and every muscle in your body tenses reflexively. You become aware that the precarious structure could collapse at any moment from the violent motions within, exposing you both in this state.

Slavering, he clamps his mouth down on your shoulder as his hips jerk erratically, on the precipice of his climax. Your involuntary groan is answered with an impassioned grunt of approval. The gesture gives you the impression of being mounted and bred by some animal. The image hits you with full force and the warm, needful ache in your gut burgeons. You grit your teeth as the first convulsions of orgasm drag you under, pussy squeezing down on him, body twitching and trembling.

His hips suddenly jerk away from you and he withdraws without a moment to spare, several ropes of warm cum spattering against your stomach in succession. You breathe a sigh of relief that he had the presence of mind to pull out. Jyushimatsu scoots in to nuzzle your cheek affectionately, thanking you. You can't help but laugh and reach up to cup his face, kissing him in return.

The tender moment is sullied when you can feel him wiping you off with whatever piece of cloth he grabbed from the amalgamate. The silken texture of the fabric and the telltale smell of cologne alert you to the fact that Jyushimatsu just mopped his cum off your stomach with Karamatsu's robe. You make a mental note to sneak it into the laundry hamper at your earliest convenience and buy Karamatsu a drink some time. Also, the pocket of air now stinks heavily of sweat and semen. Maybe you needed to buy all of them drinks.

"Whoa," Jyushimatsu exclaims, voice and demeanor completely back to normal, "I'm warm! Too warm. I'm getting out."

"W-w-wait-"

Jyushimatsu stands bolt upright, ignoring your protestations. The structure is torn asunder, clothes and blankets parting like the red sea. Thankfully, his stretched-out hoodie is long enough to somewhat preserve his modesty.

Your hands instinctively grab a nearby blanket to cover yourself with. When you finally dare to sit up and look, face burning, you find the room empty. It's likely they all fled to their bedroom upstairs at some point early on.

"Ha?" Jyushimatsu tilts his head quizzically, forming his usual open-mouthed smile. "Did you really think I'd do that if they were still here?"

You pause, blinking at him while he slides his pants on and then stoops to collect your clothes. He hands them to you in a bundle and you nod gratefully.

"Good point. Sorry." Another pause. "Then again... you're impossible to predict. I never know what you're going to do."

"Aw, shucks." He blushes, rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly. He seems to have taken the commentary on his unpredictability as a compliment. "Well! I'm gonna clean off a bit. Be right back."

Before you can respond, Jyushimatsu practically skips out of the room en route to the bathroom, slamming the sliding door closed behind him. You just sit there for a while, dumbfounded, cradling your clothes in your arms.

"Wait a minute..."

Your eyes narrow to slits when you remember that you heard somebody cough.