Excerpt from the ShuHana/ShuAda cheating fic.

Adachi’s shoes were in the genkan. Again.

Yosuke toed off his own with a sigh. It didn’t matter how many times he asked Yu not to invite the man over. By now, years after their first fight, the anger had burned down to itching irritation until that, too, was reduced to resigned acceptance. Yu always listened to Yosuke’s complaints, patient and quiet and penitent, and always a few months later Yosuke would return from a business trip to the sight of Adachi’s worn loafers dirtying the entranceway.

Like always, the two men were in the kitchen. They didn’t notice Yosuke immediately. Of course not. The remnants of a homemade meal were spread across the dining table. A smug, satiated smile hung on Adachi’s face. Yu, too, was smiling, mouth caught on the end of a laugh. Relaxed in a way he only ever was with family. And Yosuke, of course.

“Oh. You’re home early,” Adachi said. Yu sat up straighter, the smile slipping off his face. “Guess I should take off. Thanks for lunch, Yu-kun.”

Yu didn’t bother putting on his guilty hangdog expression until Adachi was gone. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow,” he explained as he gathered up the mess. But he stopped fussing as Yosuke embraced him and pressed his face into Yu’s warm, warm back. The tension of traveling - and the stress of work - bled away.

“I missed you,” he mumbled.

Yu shifted, and Yosuke relented enough to allow his husband to turn around in his arms. He cupped Yosuke’s face, hands gentle as ever.

“I really am sorry,” Yu said. Thumbs caressing his cheeks, he leaned down and brushed their lips together. Sweet and soft as powdered sugar. Yosuke leaned in - two weeks apart left him parched.

“I missed you too.”

And then he was lifting Yosuke up onto the counter and putting his mouth to better use.

*

It was an agreement they never agreed on.

Yosuke didn’t want Adachi in the house, period. The smug asshole thought he was twice as smart as he really was and used his connection to Dojima (and Yu) to wriggle out of any consequences. Yosuke hadn’t liked the man the first time they met. Each subsequent meeting only soured further until it stung like malic acid.

He could still remember Adachi’s smarmy smirk as the man leaned over and asked, after an exhausting business trip that left Yosuke reeling before he returned home to find Adachi set up in the kitchen like a king, “Get up to anything fun while you were away?”

When he had complained to Yu about it - because surely Yu would at least take some shred of offense at what Adachi implied - all he said was, “He’s just trying to be funny. You know what kind of humor he has.”

Yu wanted Adachi to visit. He was a family friend. Moreover, they shared a special bond thanks to the month they spent together taking care of Nanako after she was hospitalized. Yu had helped feed Adachi during high school - because the man couldn’t take care of himself, couldn’t stop bitching about needing a wife, as if anyone would want to marry him - and he helped feed Adachi now, over a decade later.

Yosuke didn’t understand it, but he knew that for the sake of his marriage he didn’t need to. He just had to accept that sometimes, more often than he wished, Adachi would be at the house.

Still, a burst of frustration erupted in his chest when he came home over his lunch break to find Adachi’s shoes in the genkan again. Not even a week since the previous time.

Too much. This was too much. Yosuke dropped his bag to the floor.

A loud thud interrupted his terse greeting.

Yosuke jumped. Before he could do anything else, a sobbing cry pierced the air.

What-

A rhythmic thudding echoed through the house. The sound was familiar. Yosuke knew exactly what was making it.

But that couldn’t be right.

His legs carried him forward. Fingers numb, he barely felt as his hand trailed along the wall.

The sounds grew clearer. Two voices, definitely. One obnoxiously breathy and high pitched. Another that-

Yosuke shoved the bedroom door open.

Adachi was thrown over the bed, on his knees, hands gripping the bedspread. Naked, every inch of his ugly scrawny body on display. A vicious bite bled at his shoulder.

Yu was on top of him. He was-

“What are you doing?” Yosuke heard someone say.

The two bodies separated.

Adachi scrambled for the sheets. But Yu remained shamelessly naked, and the face he wore was like every other time Yosuke had come home and found them in the kitchen.

“You’re home early,” Adachi said.