Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It didn't make sense. It still doesn't. The voice reasoning that this is probably a dream, or some sort of episode falls quiet when Tobio sees him sitting cross legged on the bed.

Shoyo.

He glances up towards Tobio’s movement in the doorway. His eyes are round with an emotion Tobio understands in some deep indescribable way. Years. It's been so many years. They have spanned across countries, continents, and once in a while, just a thin net keeps them apart.

It doesn't make sense. Yet, he’s here, sitting, waiting.

The redhead shifts his gaze down towards the bed, his fingers nervously picking at the blanket.

The words Tobio heard earlier that night from a fellow setter, “come join us-” echo in his mind. He can nearly feel Atsumu's low voice against the shell of his ear.

The way he had pronounced ‘us’ confirmed everything. All the times Tobio had caught sight of Atsumu's hands on Shoyo, his back, his waist, tangled in his hair.

They were together. And for some unfathomable reason, Tobio was invited to join. His brain didn't even process that he could decline, because after so many years of regret, how the fuck could he even consider that option?

Tobio is startled by a hand along the flat of his back. Atsumu’s voice is velvety smooth when he murmurs, “you backing out?”

Shoyo’s head snaps up and Tobio can't tell if the spiker is looking at him or Atsumu. Tobio swallows against his dry throat. No. No, he doesn't want to back out. He let his fear keep him pulled back for so long. He can't - he can't let this chance slip by.

“No,” he whispers, earning him a light pat on the back. Atsumu hums, still slightly behind him.

“You okay with watching?”

Tobio’s throat goes fully dry. He's sure now, Shoyo is looking at him. Waiting to hear his answer.

“Yes.”

The palm along his spine applies pressure now, giving him nowhere to go but forwards. Each step links together until he is deposited at the corner foot of the bed. The whole time Shoyo watches. His eyes only leave when Atsumu climbs onto the surface of the bed between them.

“Babe,” Atsumu’s voice is so much softer than it was for Tobio.

The voice is for Shoyo, and Shoyo alone. Tobio forces his face down towards the bed, feeling unable to participate in this gentle moment between partners.

“Babe,” Atsumu coos again, “are you wanting to keep going?”

Tobio's heart somehow beats even faster. It feels loud in his chest, like a beast pounding against his ribs.

The bed dips as Shoyo pulls Atsumu forwards. Tobio's eyes glance up in time to catch the sight of Shoyo mumbling something into Atsumu’s ear. Their gazes connect for a single moment before Shoyo turns away.

Atsumu's arms raise to wrap around the spiker, whispering back in that delicate flowing voice.

With each second that passes Tobio’s gut twists with anxiety. Shoyo doesn't want him here. He should leave. This was honestly all probably some sick joke anyways. As if sensing his building desire to bolt, Atsumu turns to face him.

“Do you mind closing your eyes for a minute?”

Tobio’s gut says yes. Yes he very much would mind. But when he focuses on how Shoyo has his face buried and hidden in Atsumu’s shoulder, the tips of his ears pink, it suddenly gets a lot easier. “No,” he breathes out.

Atsumu is straight up smug when he tilts his head forwards and says, “then be a good boy, won’t ya?”

The words burn sour in Tobio’s mind. Why you? What is it about Atsumu that Shoyo wants?

What does he give you, Shoyo?

His eyes fall shut under Atsumu’s steady gaze. The adrenaline spike hits a moment later, his brain searching for something in the dark expanse of his eyelids. Everything inside of him is screaming to open his eyes. The demand increases drastically when the bed starts to shift in front of him.

The dips in the mattress are unpredictable and unorganized. Tobio can't tell who or what - he remains in his dark world listening to skin move against fabric.

He is nearly about to lose the battle and peak, just let in a little light, just get an idea of who is where. Before he musters the courage something brushes against his bent knee. He jumps in place, fully unprepared to be touched himself.

“Sorry Tobio,” Shoyo whispers in his soft voice. His voice, a sound that used to fill every single one of his days, until suddenly it was gone, half across the world.

It's the first thing Shoyo has said to him since he entered this bedroom. Their bedroom. Sorry. Sorry. Shoyo is sorry that he touched Tobio.

That notion that he really shouldn't be here takes over. Shoyo doesn't want him here. Doesn't want to touch him. This is all some sick joke on Atsumu’s part. Why else would he invite Tobio in…everyone knows his and Shoyo's history. Everyone always looked at them like they knew something would come of their court partnership. But nothing ever did.

It's all mind games. An attempt to rip Tobio open through his mounting life regrets. When it comes to Shoyo, Tobio only seems to mess up. Coming here was a mistake.

He opens his eyes, fully intending to only glance at the other men before he takes his leave.

He's not sure why he ends up staring and not moving an inch. Well…he does know why, it's because he's watching fingers lightly trace over Shoyo’s bare chest. Shoyo squirms under the touch but keeps any sounds locked in his throat by biting down on his lower lip.

Amber eyes flutter open to catch Tobio watching. Shoyo turns his head to the side, hiding his face away and whines, body arching up against the fingers.

Tobio heard whining in high school. The noise grated on his nerves. But this…this is totally different. This sound…this sound goes straight to his groin. His head swims with the echoing memory of the tone. He wants to hear it again. And again. Until, maybe, it morphs into a moan.

Tobio swallows, eyes unable to look away from how Shoyo is bowing into the feather light touches.

Shoyo huffs out a breath, his body jerking upwards when a single finger traces around his nipples. Shoyo's mouth opens, like he's about to say something - his eyes flash down the length of his body to meet Tobio’s. His mouth closes without saying a word, teeth pressing sharply into his bottom lip.

“That's it baby, let yourself feel it,” although Atsumu’s voice is low and gentle, it still startles Tobio. He had been so focused on Shoyo he half forgot the other man was even here. But…that's who has been touching Shoyo, making him whine and arch like that. Atsumu is the one who gets to touch Shoyo.

Even though it's a sick and twisted form of punishment that Atsumu has devised…Tobio will stay. He will stay as long as the other two let him. Now that he's seen a little…he wants everything. He wants to see Shoyo. Every version of Shoyo.

A disapproving tsk drags his focus away from noticing how Shoyo’s muscles twitch under the light touches. Tobio finds Atsumu looking right at him, a smirk firmly planted on his face.

“Naughty boy,” he muses, fingers still brushing up Shoyo’s body. The redhead tilts his head back as the fingers slide up over his collarbone to continue up his neck.

“He couldn't help watching,” Atsumu murmurs, his fingers hooking onto Shoyo’s chin to pull his face back down.

Tobio can't help watching, especially when Shoyo watches him back. His mouth feels so dry as his eyes stay latched onto Shoyo’s.

“Do you want him to close his eyes again?” Atsumu asks the man below him.

Shoyo’s gaze waivers, glancing first to Atsumu and then back to Tobio. He shakes his head slightly, using a hand to urge Atsumu to keep touching him.

Tobio feels a blush rise to his cheeks, turning his skin hot. Shoyo’s eyes stay on him until they finally flutter shut, his body reacting to the other man’s touch.

Deft…practices fingers trail down pale skin until they are skirting around Shoyo’s waistband. A quick pinch snaps the elastic against his skin, resulting in a high pitched whine as his body bucks up.

“Atsu-”.

The quiet utterance turns Tobio’s face even hotter. Shoyo calling another man’s name, the tone dripping with an unsaid ‘please’ - it's…it's infuriating. He sees a version of himself move forwards, pushing Atsumu aside, to finally be the one pleasing Shoyo. He doesn't. For the same reason he never did. He's a coward.

“Yes sweetheart?” Atsumu’s voice has a mocking edge. Shoyo doesn't bite back in the way that he would have in highschool. Instead he sighs contentedly, a knowing smile appearing on his face. A smile that surely can only be the result of being asked that same question many times before.

Atsumu doesn't budge, his focus solely on Shoyo. The smaller man squirms, his hands raising to urge Atsumu to continue.

“Mhmm,” Atsumu chastises, his smirk returning, “tell me what you want.”

Shoyo seems to shrink under the unyielding attention. He turns his head against his shoulder, mumbling something too quiet for either of them to hear.

Atsumu shifts his face down to Shoyo’s level, his fingers idly shifting along Shoyo’s chest.

“If you want something, you'll have to say it loud enough for us to hear.”

Us. Us. For us to hear.

Atsumu moves even closer, whispering something directly into Shoyo’s ear. The shorter man shifts against the bed as he hears the words.

“Please Atsu, I can't, you know what I want - please.”

“You can do it baby,” Atsumu says into Shoyo’s neck, fingers still stroking his chest, “you can say it.”

Shoyo takes a deep shuddering breath, his fingers clutching at Atsumu above him.

“Please Atsu-” he whispers.

“You can do it Sho,” Atsumu kisses his cheek, “Tobio wants to know.”

Tobio’s fingers clench at the loose fabric of the blanket. He doesn't understand why he has been brought into this - what does Atsumu want from this?

As if sensing his discomfort Atsumu raises himself to be upright again, turning his face towards Tobio.

“Tell him Tobio,” that easy smirk is back on Atsumu’s face. But there is something deeper in his eyes. It's so intense it's nearly frightening. Like the smirk is a tool to hide the actual feelings lying underneath.

“Tell him Tobio,” Atsumu says again, eyes blazing now, “tell him you want to hear him say it.”

Tobio feels his mouth open unprompted, the words already on his lips. He does want to know. He really, really wants to know. He tries to not let the seed of doubt take hold - the doubt that says that what Shoyo truly wants is for him to leave. That this was all so Atsumu could show Tobio what he missed out on.

“Shoyo,” he voice comes out deep and rough. The redhead gives a small gasp. When he turns his face to look down the bed Tobio can see how dark his eyes are. The light browns are almost completely swallowed by his pupils.

“Tell me what you want.”

Shoyo’s lips part, his fingers digging into the bedding. Time pulls taunt, the space between them electric with the tension of unsaid words.

“You,” Shoyo breathes out, his chest rising and falling, still under one of Atsumu's hands, “I want you.”

Chapter Text

'I want you.'

Tobio can't tear his eyes away. Especially not when Atsumu continues to brush his fingers over Shoyo’s sensitive stomach, causing the man to squirm and huff out short breaths.

'I want you.'

The words were half choked out, as Shoyo fought against his own throat. The spiker’s chin tilts back again as Atsumu's hand trails up into his hair, fingers spreading out to card through his locks.

“That's it baby, that's so good,” the words drip sweet as fingers continue to caress orange hair.

“Just a little more, tell him what you want.” The tone of Atsumu's voice leaves no room. It's final. If Shoyo wants anything, he’ll have to say it.

Tobio’s head feels light, like he is liable to float away. Is this real?

I want you.

How can this be real?

“Atsu-” Shoyo starts to say but the blonde cuts him off,

“Uh-uh, don't tell me,” Atsumu’s forefinger hooks under Shoyo’s chin, holding him still, “Tell Tobio.”

“I can't-” Shoyo’s voice is choked again, strained with the threat of tears.

“You can baby, I know you can,” Atsumu leans to kiss Shoyo’s cheeks. Shoyo’s arms grab tight around Atsumu’s neck. Tobio feels frozen as he watches Shoyo’s body start to shake. Shoyo…the strong, undefeatable Shoyo who risked it all to live in Brazil. Who never once let another team tear off his wings. Who never once stopped asking for the next ball.

“I can't,” the words crack around a sob.

Tobio never, ever, wants to see Shoyo say he can't. It defies the natural laws of the world. Shoyo can. He proved that time and time again. It's not a matter of whether he can or can't, it's just about when. Anything he sets his mind to, he will accomplish, it is just a matter of time.

He is reaching forwards before he fully decides to. His fingers grasp loosely around Shoyo’s ankle. The man jolts at first, before he relaxes, letting out another wet sob. Tobio has never been especially keen on physical touch. Shoyo was always the exception. And now is no different. All he wants is to hold him, let him cry, and tell him that it's going to be okay.

Will it be okay? Will Tobio ever get a chance like this again?

“Shoyo,” he whispers, grasping his ankle a little tighter. In turn Shoyo further buries himself into Atsumu’s shoulder, his arms straining to keep him locked around the setter’s neck.

Something beyond his understanding compels him. He whispers Shoyo’s name again, this time swiping his thumb over Shoyo’s ankle. Something so small, especially in comparison to how Atsumu touched him. But for Tobio and Shoyo, it's new, brand new. It's an affection the two have never shared - the gentle sweeping of a thumb where it holds on.

“Please Shoyo,” he still isn't fully used to the way the name feels round in his mouth, so used to the sharp syllables of Hinata.

The way Shoyo’s body attempts to curl in on itself…the way he's making himself small…Tobio’s own throat constricts.

Tobio does cry. He doesn't. This is possibly the most confusing night of his life. First to be invited here, and now somehow tears are falling down his cheeks.

“Shoyo,” he whispers, unable to disguise his shaking voice, “please tell me what you want.”

Just tell me. I'll do it.

Tobio doesn't even realize that Atsumu is staring at him. Intense eyes piercing him through. The moment is over before Tobio can even start to decipher what emotion may have laid behind that gaze.

Atsumu folds Shoyo into his arms, lifting him to sit upright against his chest. Shoyo keeps his face tucked away, his back shaking slightly. In the movement the spiker’s ankle slips out of Tobio’s grasp.

His palm feels starkly cold in its absence. He clenches his fingers into a loose fist before laying it flat against the bed. The tears have stopped, but threaten to overflow at the slightest push.

“He wants to know,” Atsumu whispers, petting Shoyo’s bright hair.

“You can start small baby, just tell him what we talked about,” Atsumu’s voice is so soft and sweet. Tobio feels his own mind start to be swayed by the melodic rhythm in Atsumu's tone.

Shoyo sniffs, his fingers tangled in Atsumu’s shirt, face still tucked against his chest. The spiker tugs on the shirt until Atsumu lowers his head further.

Tobio watches Atsumu listen to whatever it is that Shoyo is telling him. He blinks thoughtfully, his face giving nothing away.

When Atsumu pulls back he lightly grasps Shoyo's chin, keeping his face looking up slightly. Then Atsumu leans back in, his hand curling into the nape of Shoyo’s neck, bringing their faces together.

The kiss is slow. To be honest, Tobio always glanced away when he saw people kissing, whether it be in public or on television. Something in his gut couldn't quite stomach the sight. Now, he is frozen, watching as Shoyo sighs against Atsumu’s mouth as their lips slide together.

He can't quite stomach this in a completely different way. His face burns, eyes refusing to look anywhere else as Atsumu deftly pulls Shoyo up into his lap. Strong, God, so fucking strong thighs spread over Atsumu’s hips.

Atsumu had asked if Tobio was okay with watching. Tobio had said yes. So here he is, watching somebody else kiss and caress the man he never stopped thinking about.

A deeper sound gets caught in Shoyo’s throat when Atsumu grabs his lower back, hoisting him further over his lap. Tobio’s own body reacts to the sound, watching, shamefully, as Shoyo starts to shift his hips against Atsumu’s stomach.

Shoyo’s hands refuse to stay still, wandering, grabbing, clutching at anything they can reach. All the while, their mouths move against each other, the soft sounds of their breathing filling the room.

It takes everything in Tobio to stay still himself, his eyes darting between all the different places they are connected. When he glances back up to their faces he finds Atsumu's eyes open and on him.

Tobio’s jaw clenches at the eye contact. He's here to watch…so why does being caught fill him with shame… Atsumu’s eyebrow flicks up a moment before his hand threads into orange hair. Blood rushes between Tobio’s legs when Atsumu grabs tight and yanks Shoyo’s head back.

The spiker looks up at his setter with lowly lidded eyes, a deep groan falling from his mouth. Shoyo’s neck is bent to accommodate the hand holding his hair tightly. He doesn't seem to mind. He truly doesn't seem to mind, his lips parting slightly, a tongue running along the opening. Shoyo…he likes it.

“Say it baby,” Atsumu whispers loud enough for them both to hear. When Shoyo doesn't speak right away he tightens his grip in the spiker’s hair, causing Shoyo to gasp and arch his neck further.

“I want him to kiss me,” the words come out thin but determined.

“Ask him,” is all Atsumu says in response.

Tobio watches Shoyo swallow, his adam's apple dipping before it resettles. Shoyo can't turn his head, but his eyes glance towards Tobio.

‘Will you kiss me?” the words sound desperate. The words make Tobio desperate.

“Yes,” his voice works faster than his brain. But that's okay, the answer is yes. No matter what, if Shoyo really wants this, the answer is yes.

Tobio watches Shoyo sag against the grip Atsumu still has on his hair. Atsumu leans back in, hand still holding Shoyo firmly. He kisses his cheek, moving downwards to pepper kisses down the column of his stretched neck.

Tobio can hear pieces of what is being gently spoken into Shoyo’s skin

“So good,” - “such a good boy,” -”perfect”

It's obvious how much Shoyo loves it. He sucks in a breath with each loving praise, his body arching to get impossibly closer to Atsumu.

Tobio remained frozen to his spot, enraptured in shameful jealousy as he watched Atsumu slowly take Shoyo apart with words and light touches. The way that they interact dripping with practiced ease. Atsumu knows exactly how to handle Shoyo. Knows when to hold him still. When to praise him. When to push his limits.

Atsumu’s fingers loosen, his head angled now so that he can look at Tobio. The challenge on his smug face is unmistakable. The words Atsumu spoke when he had Tobio close his eyes resurfaces in his mind

Be a good boy, won’t ya?

Shoyo is panting, his head still tilted back, neck bared, despite Atsumu’s hand no longer holding him there. His fingers twitch where they are tangled in Atsumu’s shirt. He's waiting. Waiting for Tobio to make good on his “Yes”.

Moving seems impossible. To move would break past the invisible line that has always been drawn between them. It might as well be a wall. Tobio wants to move. God he fucking wants to move. He wants to devour and taste and kiss and enjoy everything Shoyo will let him have. But the wall…it keeps him in place.

Atsumu watches him. Shoyo breathes quickly, his eyes closed. Tobio wills himself to move.

“Please-”

that one, simple, whispered word -

It forces Tobio past the wall.

Chapter Text

His hand raises, reaching for what might as well be the sun. Shoyo has his eyes closed as he attempts to keep his breathing just short of hyperventilating.

His fingertips connect first, along the smooth skin of Shoyo's cheek. Lids flutter as Shoyo's bottom lip trembles after the initial touch. Tobio feels similarly, his jaw set hard to prevent the same. He watches his hand slide into Shoyo’s hair. So soft. So so soft. He's felt it before, but he's never let himself enjoy the touch. His hand slides through, his face brought ever forwards as he focuses on the way his spiker’s hair feels on the sensitive inner sides of his fingers.

He finds his lips a breath away from connecting with Shoyo's cheek. The heat radiating off him is palpable through the air.

Tobio’s eyes close, his lungs squeezing in anticipation. His hand never stops, continuously shifting through the orange hair. He sways forwards and his lips just barely brush against the upper edge of Shoyo's cheek, nearly at his ear.

Just a light touch against the swell of his bottom lip, it shouldn't feel as enormous as it does. It shouldn't feel like some great wall inside of Tobio is tearing itself down.

“Shoyo,” he hears himself whisper. With the motion of the word, his lips brush against the cheek edge of Shoyo’s ear. Something…God- something, something needs to happen. Tobio can't believe that it really is Shoyo here, kneeling on the bed, asking for Tobio, specifically for Tobio to kiss him.

Tobio wants to. God he wants to. He wants to kiss every inch of Shoyo and whisper everything into his ear. Every passing thought, or time he thought the boy or man was beautiful. Every painful ache of missing him, of nearly reaching out. Of how much he regrets every chance that passed him by.

“Tobio,” it's just a breath, barely a word at all. It lights Tobio alive with some deep understanding. They both want this. Shoyo wants this. Tobio presses a kiss to his cheek, letting his lips linger against the soft skin. He doesn't want to ever pull away. He wants to use the hand in Shoyo’s hair to hold the man in the kiss. He seriously is considering how long he could draw this out when he realizes that Shoyo is shifting in his grasp.

He's not pulling away. He's letting his head loll slightly to the side, baring his neck, showing Tobio the perfect reason to end the kiss. He lifts himself back, eyeing the beautiful jaw and neck in front of him. His mouth waters as he imagines.

Like a magnet he is drawn into Shoyo, no path for escape now that he's this close. His mouth finds the very corner edge of Shoyo's jaw, an ambiguous space that marks the transition between his head and neck.

Shoyo gasps. The sound feels like it's being fed directly into Tobio’s brain. More. He wants to hear more. He wants to hear Shoyo take in sharp breaths, one after the other, his lungs going erratic, hands clawing up Tobio’s back, half broken and unfinished words attempting to make their way out of his mouth. Tobio wants to hear it escalate from a single gasp to the chorus of sounds that will surely come of Shoyo right as he is about to-

“Didn't realize you would spend so long teasing him,” Atsumu's voice crawls up Tobio’s back. His spine feels sharp as adrenaline dumps into his system. He forgot. He forgot about the…partner. Shoyo’s partner. His body screams at him to pull back.

Shoyo whines, squirming in place for a moment before his hips jerk forwards abruptly. Tobio pulls his face back a few inches from the portion of neck he had been kissing. His eyes dart to the movement on Shoyo’s thigh. Atsumu's large hand lies there, fingers wrapped around the heady bulk of Shoyo’s leg. A thumb sweeps along the inside portion, every few swipes causing Shoyo to buck forwards.

It feels wrong. It feels so wrong to watch another man touch Shoyo - and so well too. Atsumu plays Shoyo’s body like it's a well practiced instrument.

“Atsu - please - you said you wouldnt-” Shoyo's voice isn't exactly convincing as his body shifts against the hand on his upper thigh.

“I'm not doing anything Sho, just comforting you,” Tobio doesn't need to be looking to know there is a smirk on Atsumu's face.

Shoyo's mouth falls open slightly, eyes just barely open. Tobio is lost in the sight of Shoyo when Atsumu snaps him out of it once again.

“Go on,” he prompts, “keep kissing him.”

Shoyo bares his neck again, his body still shifting and giving small jumps when Atsumu presses against a sensitive spot.

Tobio doesn't like this. He doesn't like the idea of not knowing if a sigh or moan is because of himself or Atsumu.

His own hand finds itself overtop of Atsumu's, stilling his movements.

“He told you not to,” Tobio says, his voice firm and even.

The room is utterly silent for a few seconds. Each moment that passes convinces Tobio that what he has just done has majorly passed a line. How could he think he had any right to tell Atsumu what to do with his own partner? Why would Tobio have any right at all?

Atsumu's boisterous laugh takes over the space next. Part of Tobio’s rising rage is the situation, but a decent portion of it is just a reflection of his confusion. Why. The. Hell. Is. He. Laughing.

“I told you,” Atsumu says, somewhat regaining his breath. Shoyo groans, and not in the fun way. Tobio’s hand tightens reflexively, grasping the strands of hair in his hand. Shoyo groans again, this time…in a completely different way.

Atsumu has finally gotten his laughter under control. Tobio regretfully lets go of Shoyo’s hair. He hadn't asked to do that. Just because Atsumu had done it doesn't at all mean Shoyo wants it from Tobio.

With his fits of laughter behind him, Atsumu's voice drops back down to that velvety timber. “I told you,” he taunts in Shoyo’s other ear. Tobio knows the words are for Shoyo. He can't help but hear them.

“I told you that he wouldn't share,” the words feel like they are bending around Shoyo to land right in Tobio’s own ear.

What?

“He won't share you,” Tobio feels a second hand join his in Shoyo’s hair. He indeed doesn't want to share. He's about to act out in a way that will probably get him kicked out of the room altogether when Atsumu grabs on tight, forcing Shoyo to bare his neck towards Tobio at what seems to be an terribly uncomfortable angle.

“Go on then,” Atsumu challenges, “have him.”

It's different. Doing something because Shoyo asked…doing something because Atsumu told him. It's different. It's…

“Do you want me to?” he's ignoring Atsumu. The question is for Shoyo. His lips brush against the shell of Shoyo’s ear because, apparently, Tobio cannot bear to be physically apart from him.

“Yes,” the sound is strained from how his neck is being bent.

Somehow, the risk seems worth it. Tobio shifts his hand, slipping the tips of fingers under where Atsumu is holding onto Shoyo’s locks of hair. Let go. Let go of him.

Atsumu relents and Shoyo’s head rebounds upon release, knocking gently into Tobio’s face. Tobio uses his hand to hold Shoyo close so he can mouth at the ridges of Shoyo’s ear.

Shoyo’s reaction is worth everything. A breathy moan falls from his lips and one of his hands jumps up to grasp at Tobio’s leg.

He feels dizzy with how Shoyo’s fingertips dig into his leg, just above the knee. He works his lips to the spot of skin just behind Shoyo’s ear and his spiker grabs on harder. He moves lower, cherishing every small reaction as he drags his lips and then his tongue down the side of Shoyo’s neck.

He swears he's drunk when he feels his mouth open on its own to start sucking on Shoyo’s pulse point. The man under him jolts, never pulling away, instead leaning into the sensation.

He doesn't grab, he doesn't, but he does tighten his hold on Shoyo’s head. The immediate groan is a reward that spurs on further confidence. His grip tightens more, holding Shoyo right where he wants him. Tobio continues downward, having to change his angle to continue along Shoyo's shoulder.

His hand at some point descended down to cradle Shoyo’s jaw, his thumb lying along the underside of his chin.

Tobio holds the man still, feeling the rush of breath in and out. His jaw opens, his teeth against the soft curve of Shoyo’s shoulder. He doesn't press, just holds his mouth there. He laves his tongue along the soft skin, lost in everything that is Shoyo.

“Yes,” Shoyo sighs, letting his face still be held in place, “yes Tobio, please, do it-”

He doesn't have to be told twice, especially when the first request was so, so sweet. Tobio bites down, letting his teeth press against Shoyo’s strong shoulder.

He can feel the skin resist his jaw, pressing back with just as much force. He presses harder. Shoyo squirms in his grasp, his breath coming in short bursts, his hand clamped down so tightly onto Tobio’s leg.

Fingers dig in. Teeth dig in. Shoyo hasn't stopped moving and Tobio fears it's too much. He is about to release the pressure when the man below him goes still, his muscles relaxing.

Incredible. Fucking incredible. He relaxed…despite the teeth pressing against the bottom of his neck. Tobio bites down a fraction harder, letting his tongue play with the skin he has trapped in his mouth.

Shoyo moans lowly. His head is nuzzling into Tobio’s hand which still holds him still by his jaw. His body slumps towards Tobio. The fingers on his upper knee still hold on, but without any of the intensity.

Tobio runs the tip of his tongue along his own teeth, tracing the point of contact between them. He wonders if Shoyo's beautiful tan skin with bruise in the shape of his teeth.

“Tobio-” Shoyo’s voice aches with want. Tobio is weak to the sound. He wants to give Shoyo exactly what he wants. He releases the shoulder from his jaw, licks and kisses over the indented skin.

“What do you want?” Tobio asks into Shoyo’s skin, kissing his way back up that gorgeous neck, until he is settled back by Shoyo's ear.

“You,” Shoyo breathes.

“Be precise love,” Atsumu's voice comes from the other side. It's less grating now, less infuriating. Not exactly enjoyable…but tolerable.

“Tell Tobio exactly what you want from him.”

A needy sound gets caught in Shoyo’s throat. Neither man moves to continue, the room shockingly still and quiet, save for Shoyo’s ragged breathing.

“I want,” Shoyo takes a steading breath, leaning a little more into Tobio, “I want all of you, I want to feel you inside of me.”

Shoyo starts to turn his head and Tobio releases his jaw, allowing the movement. Shoyo slots his face right in front of Tobio’s. Their foreheads and cheeks rest together, putting the mouths such a short distance apart. He can feel Shoyo's breath on his lips.

“Kiss me, kiss me everywhere, until I'm begging for it, for anything,” Shoyo’s voice is warm against Tobio’s lips. He waits, holding as still as he can, unwilling to break the spell that is allowing Shoyo to tell him exactly how to take him apart.

“I want you to have your way with me, I want you to take, whatever you want Tobio, take it, please-”

Goosebumps erupt up Tobio’s back and down his arms. Holy shit.

A hand finds its way onto the back of his neck, holding him close.

“Please,” Shoyo says again, his voice so desperate and so vulnerable at the same time.

“Yes, of course,” Tobio puts his own hand on the nape of Shoyo’s neck, holding him just as gently.

“Of course,” he repeats, closing the final few millimeters to finally kiss Hinata Shoyo.

Chapter Text

Shoyo can't stop the way his body breathes out at the contact. He means to kiss back, he wants very much to kiss back, but his brain is just slow, like syrup. The message eventually reaches his lips and they start to move, a deep moan making its way out of his mouth at the same time.

Tobio. Kissing him.

It's soft, a stark contrast to how Tobio had been holding him still just moments ago. Shoyo loves it. He loves whatever Tobio will give him. He focuses on how the lips feel against his own. Fingers curl against the nape of his neck.

He wants me, Shoyo thinks. The thought feels like it is burning him alive. He feels his body arch forwards, trying to get closer, trying to feel more of Tobio. The slow press, the intimate feelings, the shallow breathy noises. He's getting lost. He wants to be lost.

He nips at Tobio’s bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth, absolutely relishing the pitched whine that it pulls from the setter. The air is forced out of Shoyo's lungs as his back hits the bed. His eyes fly open and he is vaguely aware that the hair at the base of his head aches.

He gets a quick glance of Tobio’s cold blue eyes before the man is all the way up against him kissing him so much more forcefully. Tobio’s chest presses against Shoyo’s own, the fabric of his shirt scratching against Shoyo’s sensitive nipples. His body aches, both wanting more and trying to reduce the stimulation.

It truly feels like he loses the ability to think as Tobio’s tongue slides against his bottom lip. He can't think, God, he doesn't fucking need to think. Not when Tobio is on him like this. He can't think, but that doesn't stop him from fucking needing more.

His hands grab at Tobio, trying to pull him closer, trying to show him that, yes, Shoyo wants this too.

His hands are quickly grabbed and pressed down into the bed above his head. Tobio pulls back a fraction, his breath coming in heaves, eyes closed.

Shoyo’s body feels so…it's always been hard to explain. Atsumu has asked in the past, asked Shoyo to explain what it feels like to be held down, or tied up, or made to do all manner of things. It's hard to explain - partially because when Shoyo is in that place he isn't thinking hardly at all - partially because it truly just doesn't seem like there are adequate words.

It feels good. So fucking good. Like Shoyo is exactly where he needs to be. Like he is exactly who he needs to be. Like he was made for this.

Tobio’s face falls into Shoyo's shoulder, his exhales tickle Shoyo’s bare skin. He feels his skin pebble under the sensation. It takes everything in him to stay still under the man holding him down. It takes everything, in the best fucking way.

“Shoyo,” Tobio’s voice is hoarse. It harkens back to all the strenuous moments of their past, when they would be on the verge of collapsing, each telling themselves ‘just one more point’. The shared history, it suddenly feels overwhelming. Tobio chooses that moment to release Shoyo’s hands and sit back on his heels.

“If you touch me like that,” Tobio takes a deep breath, “I'm not sure I'll be able to keep it together.”

Shoyo’s body is caught, half in that place of submission, half submerged in memories of Tobio. It's confusing. It's…uncomfortable. His body isn't sure what to feel. He's…

Tobio is real. This is the Tobio that Shoyo spent all of highschool with. Every day, every practice, every match, classes, studying, holidays, sleepovers, and then -

No. No, he won't. He won't cry. No.

“Shoyo?” Tobio’s voice is different, wrong. That is not how he talks to Shoyo.

“Sho? Baby?” Now it's Atsumu.

It aches. The words caught in Shoyo’s brain make his chest ache. No. Stop. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter why. It's years past now. It doesn't fucking matter.

A warm finger wipes at the tears falling sideways down his cheeks. Some tears get by anyway and fall into his ear.

Why? Tobio, why? Why didn't…even when you were in Rio, for the Olympics…you still didn't…

The voice - the one that won't stop repeating the words inside Shoyo’s head - takes on a more cutting edge.

It's because…you never meant that to him. You were never special, you were never worth seeing. You're only allowed this now because it's convenient. You'd better enjoy it. He’ll probably never spend his time on you like this again.

You're convenient.

You're just convenient.

A troubled breath wracks through his lungs. He's losing it.

He turns his head to the side, away from the other two. They have been talking, quietly, imploring him to respond. He isn't actually hearing the words, just the tone. His breath comes quicker now, a formidable beast. He bites down on his bottom lip, forcing his lungs to stop completely. Stop. Just stop. He holds it as long as he can.

Two hands on his cheeks.

Shaking his shoulders.

Talking in louder voices now.

…

Atsumu isn't sure what the hell is happening. He's seen Shoyo drop before…it's not like this. This is a whole other beast. To be honest, he hadn't considered the emotional element of bringing in somebody like Tobio.

He pushed past Tobio with ease. The other setter seems paralyzed. He probably figured it's his fault somehow. Atsumu sighs internally, these two, always letting their fears get the better of them.

He brushes Shoyo’s hair out of his face, and keeps wiping away stray tears.

Maybe this was too much. After years of repressing his feelings, plus the teasing, and the submission, it's just too much to process all at once.

As if sensing that Atsumu is about to pull the plug on the whole thing, Shoyo speaks. It's just a whisper of his normally boisterous voice.

“I'm sorry.”

Atsumu opens his mouth, a reassurance that Shoyo doesn't need to apologize at his lips. Shoyo catches his eye, and something there stops Atsumu from speaking.

Shoyo closes his eyes again and takes a shuddering breath, tears still falling silently down his face.

“Sweetheart,” Atsumu whispers, “I think we should send Tobio home.”

Atsumu watches the muscles in Shoyo's jaw clench as he hears the words. It must feel like failure to have to end things like this, but it's so much more important to take care of Shoyo right now.

“I want -” Shoyo’s voice hitches and he swallows before starting again, “I want to know,” he turns over so that he's facing Atsumu.

Atsumu looks down at his spiker. His eyes are pink and puffy, his nose and cheeks flushed. His voice has the tell-tale marks of crying.

“What do you want to know honey?”

Shoyo's eyes dart to look past Atsumu, likely finding Tobio. Ah.

Atsumu shifts to the side, not quite removing himself from between the other two men, but giving a bit more space.

“I can go, it's really-”

“You never came,” Shoyo interrupts.

“I…” Tobio stops, the confusion evident in his voice.

Shoyo's eyes close, “You're right, you don't need to stay,” he swallows before he says, “it's nice that you came at all.”

Oh. So that's what this is about.

Atsumu turns to look at Tobio who has gone utterly pale in the face.

“Sh-” Tobio cuts himself off, his eyes quickly glancing to Atsumu and then back to Shoyo.

“It's okay,” Shoyo gives a weary smile, “we always knew what this was.”

The words hurt Atsumu to hear. He can't even imagine how they cut into Tobio.

Shoyo keeps a weary smile on his face while stray tears continue to fall. This pain. These two idiots have lived with this fucking pain for all these years. It's obvious, fucking painfully obvious to everyone but them. Christ. Well…Atsumu at least had a clue what he was getting himself into when he agreed to this…frankly encouraged it.

He loves Sho. God, how can you not? Sunshine incarnate on this mortal earth. He's fierce and powerful on the court. He's like dappled easy morning light in bed. An incredible array of colors when he puts his focus on you.

Atsumu loves Sho. But he's not in love with him. But Tobio is. Has been for so fucking long. Atsumu didn't know it in highschool, was too naive and self centered himself to pick up on the cues. But in hindsight it's obvious that the feelings have run deep.

And yet, these two fucking idiots still can't figure it out. If the room wasn't full of a painfully tense silence Atsumu would be burying his face into his hands. Idiots. Fucking idiots.

Well, he set out with the aim of getting them together. Surely he can outsmart two dumbasses…right?

Chapter Text

Tobio feels like he may as well be miles away. The other two men are in front of him on the bed, Atsumu is petting Shoyo’s hair and talking to him gently. Shoyo’s words stay trapped in Tobio’s head. It's all he can think as he watches Shoyo wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand.

‘You never came’

‘We always knew what this was’

‘Its nice you came at all'

The words feel like a fucking punch to the stomach. Tobio knows he fucked up. More times than he can actually count. He fucked up every single time he chose to avoid his feelings about Shoyo. He…he didn't realize Shoyo was hurting too.

Tobio never came. He was in the same city as Shoyo for weeks. They hadn't seen each other in so many months. He never used any breaks in his schedule to visit. He never could bring himself to see Shoyo. He wanted to. Fuck he wanted to. When in Rio he was always looking over his shoulder, scanning the crowds. The imagined presence of Shoyo followed him around everywhere he went. He wanted…he really wanted Shoyo to just be there one of the times he looked. He wanted to see him, wanted to see the smile light up his face when they made eye contact. Wanted to know Shoyo was watching him.

He didn't even know if Shoyo knew he was in Rio. Logically he did…there is no way he wasn't following the Olympics. But…he didn't reach out. Didn't ask for tickets, or to meet up, or…

Shoyo…you're the one who left.

It was supposed to be us against the world.

Tobio’s jaw clenches, fighting back the increasing pressure of tears.

Atsumu is still gently taking care of Shoyo, his voice soft and loving. It fucking aches.

Shoyo left, went clear around the world…and when he finally came back…he picked Atsumu.

Tobio gets it. He’ll never have that social ease that Atsumu does. Or the looks. Or any of it. Shoyo put up with Tobio’s shit for years, he knows exactly what Tobio is like and…it wasn't what he wanted. So…why is he saying these things now?

“Tobio?” Atsumu snaps him out of the flood of feelings and questions.

Tobio looks up into Atsumu’s face. There is something there…something completely unreadable. Tobio wishes he were better at that, at understanding people and the things they leave unsaid.

“You have to tell him,” Atsumu says.

His stomach twists as the words filter into his brain. Tell him? Surely…surely Atsumu doesn't mean…

Atsumu is now fully turned towards Tobio, the intensity of his eyes makes Tobio want to shy away.

“Tell him,” Atsumu implores, “be brave for once, tell him the truth.”

When Tobio glances down to where Shoyo is laying down, still wiping at his eyes, but now he's also watching Tobio.

Tobio knows what the expression of Shoyo's face means…probably because he knows all of Shoyo's different faces.

Fear. Shoyo is afraid. Not the type of fear from when he was constantly getting cornered in the bathroom at games. More like…the fear he felt when the third years left. The fear that comes with knowing your whole world is about to change.

The truth. Tell Shoyo the truth. Tobio’s throat chokes up at the thought of saying any of the words aloud. He can't. What made him think anything would be different? Coming here didn't stop him from being a coward. If anything it proves his cowardice even more. To have this small sliver of Shoyo when he belongs to another…to take this opportunity knowing it was just going to end with his heart broken.

God, what the fuck was he thinking? His teeth ache from how hard he is clenching his mouth shut. He is losing the battle of holding his tears in.

The truth. The truth of everything he has held in. It's not possible. He's not the kind of person who could say what needs to be said.

Shoyo’s face turns pained and he presses the heel of his palms into his eyes. He takes in a ragged breath, “Fuck Tobio, just say it. Just fucking say it.”

Tobio’s vision goes blurry and he loses sight of Shoyo. He turns his head down towards the bed and blinks the tears out of his eyes. They just keep coming. Fuck. Fuck.

His fingers are grasping at his pants. There is too much. There is too much inside of him. It feels like he is just barely keeping everything contained. His body wants to fly a part into a million pieces. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. The rock in his throat sits heavy, choking him. Fuck,

He can't breathe.

He grabs at his neck and then his chest, trying desperately to take a full breath. He can't. He watches more tears fall into the bed spread. He can't breathe.

Hands land on his cheeks. Tobio shuts his eyes. At this point, he might rather die than let Atsumu help him.

So when it's Shoyo’s voice that speaks from just a few inches away - Tobio nearly lets out a sob.

“Do you remember the visualization?”

Tobio huffs out a breath before his body tries to take a new one back in too fast. He hiccups, fingertips digging into his legs. Of course he remembers. How could he forget?

He manages to nod and Shoyo gently pries Tobio’s hands off of his legs so that his own can settle there instead. They just about perfected this in highschool.

Tobio never understood why, but partway through his second year he started to get panic attacks. Sometimes they were truly out of the blue, catching him in the middle of something mundane. Other times they were because of what he was realizing about his own feelings.

Shoyo taps on his knees. They always used the same pattern. A tap, about two beats of silence and then another tap. It feels so close to the rhythm of setting to yourself against the wall. Tobio lets his mind fall into the steady drum of Shoyo’s hands. He can nearly see the ball get set up, arcing into the wall, and then falling back down.

Tobio knows it's just a rhythm, but it always feels like Shoyo is tapping at just the right moment, right when Tobio would have made contact with the ball and set it back up again. He falls into the feeling. Comfortable and predictable. Another tap always coming at just the right time.

“Woah,” Atsumu's admission grabs Tobio’s focus. He opens his eyes, his brain unsettled that he wasn't actually setting against the wall. His breathing is even again, and his throat no longer feels constricted.

“That is really fucking cool, how did you two figure that out? Shoyo stays quiet in the face of Atsumu's question, his eyes cast down towards the bed.

“He found me,” Tobio says, his voice on the edge of shaking, “I couldn't stop hyperventilating. It felt like I was going to pass out,” Shoyo blinks but doesn't look up.

“He didn't…I thought he'd go get the nurse or coach or something, but instead he just sat down next to me,” Tobio remembers the utter embarrassment. He felt so out of control, so weak. He hated that Shoyo was seeing him like that.

“He started to tap on the floor, that rhythm, and…I don't know why but it helped, it always helps.”

And when Tobio finally calmed down, Shoyo just stood up and held out his hand. When Tobio looked up into his face, he saw the expression that Shoyo always had the second before he asked Tobio to set to him. Shoyo didn't…he didn't, he just kept seeing Tobio as Tobio. The realization nearly sent teenage Tobio spiraling all over again. He kept it together though, thinking about how good it was going to feel to really set to Shoyo.

And here is Shoyo now, older, somehow shyer. Still not judging…but not holding out a hand either.

“Thank you,” Tobio whispers.

“Of course,” Shoyo says back, not looking up.

It's not an of course. There is no obligation between the two of them. But God- Tobio closes his eyes, fighting back a second round of panic. God he wants there to be. He wants to be somebody so important to Shoyo. He wants to be needed, and relied on. He wants to be obligated and responsible to somebody other than himself.

Be brave. For once, for just a fucking single instance, be brave. Tell him. Tell him the truth.

Tobio’s mouth opens, so many different words fighting to make their way down his throat. Tell him. Fucking tell him. Say it. Say it you coward.

He wants to. He looks at Shoyo who can't even bear to look up. He wants to. He really fucking wants to.

He tentatively puts his own hand on Shoyo’s knee and gives it a single tap. He can see that Shoyo is watching his hand. Still not looking up.

How- how can Tobio even begin to express it all? Words never came easily to Tobio. He never was able to catch the right ones or arrange them in a way that made others understand. And, with Shoyo, he never quite had to. They didn't always talk, but there was so much that felt naturally understood between them.

Now is not one of those times. Maybe…maybe for all those years Tobio hid in the safety of not having to say it. He didn't have to say it and Shoyo still came back every time. Until he didn't.

“I missed you,” he can't bear to look at Shoyo’s down turned face. Instead he looks at his own hand on his…on Shoyo’s knee.

“I missed you when you left. I knew that the end of our third year meant things would be different. I wasn't-” he takes in a shuddering breath, “I wasn't ready.”

“I missed you,” he says again, more quietly.

There are a million things he could say, but for some reason he just keeps saying that.

A single drop lands on the back of his hand. His eyes shoot up before he can stop them. Shoyo is still looking down, but there are loose tears clinging to his eyelashes.

“I missed you,” Shoyo's voice is so quiet that Tobio almost isn't able to make out the words. But he does. Shoyo sniffs and blinks, dropping more tears down into his legs and Tobio’s hand.

“I missed you,” Shoyo says again, his head dropping down further so that Tobio can only see his orange hair.

Shoyo’s head snaps up, his eyes still full of tears. Tobio feels pinned under the intense gaze. He has been on the receiving end of Shoyo’s stare more times than he can count. Watching him serve from the box, watching him to see where the set will go, watching his block from the back row. Always watching. The feeling of amber eyes on him became comfortable.

This though, is anything but. Tobio’s stomach twists but he finds himself unable to look away from Shoyo’s clear eyes.

He doesn't mean to hold his breath, and he only realizes he has been when his lungs start to ache. He lets himself breathe in, still fully caught in the intensity of Shoyo.

Tell him. Tell him more. Make him understand that it went far beyond just missing. Make him understand.

“I missed you,” Tobio says again, stressing the word ‘missed’ in a way that he hopes communicates something deeper. Because he missed Shoyo so fucking much he almost couldn't stand it.

Shoyo's eyes do widen ever so slightly. His lips part and a moment later his gaze falls to Tobio’s mouth. That's the only warning the setter gets before he feels Shoyo lunge forwards and kiss him.

Hungry. That's the only word in Tobio’s head as they kiss. Hungry. Starved. Ravenous. They kiss like they are both terrified that this is it. The last chance. The only chance. Tobio holds the back of Shoyo’s head and his hip. He keeps the other man close while their mouths clash together.

Tobio groans when he feels Shoyo’s tongue rub against his own. It's so hot, so warm, so wet. He needs it. He needs it like nothing else. He holds Shoyo even closer, his hand gripping the back of the spiker's neck. Shoyo moans into Tobio’s mouth and sets his entire body ablaze. Again. He needs to hear that again.

He tightens his grip on Shoyo’s hip and pulls him forwards. On him, Tobio needs Shoyo on him. The orange haired man lets himself be moved and climbs onto Tobio’s lap, their mouths never disconnecting. It's addicting. Kissing has never fucking felt like this. It feels like he's losing his mind over this fucking kiss. Every movement fills Tobio.

“I missed you,” he says against Shoyo’s lips. His voice comes out raw and needy. Shoyo's hands thread into his hair, his chest pressing into Tobio’s own. When Shoyo rocks his hips forwards to adjust his position Tobio truly loses his mind.

That feeling…the one where if Shoyo continues…Tobio isn't going to be able to control himself.

“Sho-” he gasps out, as he feels Shoyo’s hand clench and grip his hair.

“Ahh-im- oh fuck” Tobio is melting. He's never felt like this before, like there was something bigger than himself happening inside of him. Shoyo, as always, is an unstoppable force. He kisses Tobio like a starved man, wasting no time, wasting not a single ounce. He kisses and bites and sucks and grabs onto Tobio.

It's electrifying - to feel wanted like this. To feel wanted by Shoyo like this.

Tobio swallows just a moment before his head is wretched back by Shoyo’s fist of hair. The spiker clamps onto Tobio’s neck and kisses him there. Tobio feels teeth and then he feels tongue. Shoyo licks over the arch of Tobio’s neck, moaning as he nears Tobio’s ear.

Tobio’s voice gives a high, needy whine when Shoyo nips at his ear. Is this fucking real?

He feels Shoyo's hot breath against his skin. Oh God. Oh good God. Tobio is truly going to lose it.

“Fuck me,” Shoyo whispers, the fistful of Tobio’s hair tightening, “please Tobio.”

Of course. Tobio’s eyes close, the hot body of his spiker in his lap, his head arched back forcibly. The echoing sound of Shoyo’s request in his ears.

Yes, of course.

Chapter Text

The pressure of Shoyo in his lap stays constant, but the bed dips around Tobio’s knees.

Shoyo pulls away from Tobio’s mouth, his face turning towards Atsumu who has settled down amongst the pile of legs. Atsumu has a hand on Shoyo’s jaw, holding him still while he whispers in the spiker's ear. Despite how quiet the room is, Tobio cannot hear their conversation.

The sudden halt to the intense kissing has left him panting. He watches Shoyo blink as he listens, his lips parted slightly, full and pink from how they had been kissing.

Tobio's hands still rest on Shoyo’s hip. He lets his fingers move ever so slightly, brushing along the soft skin of Shoyo’s sides. Tobio can feel how Shoyo wiggles in his grasp, his hips shifting in minute ways.

Long fingers overlap his own, halting the motion, “Just a minute Tobio,” Atsumu murmurs, his mouth still up against Shoyo’s ear. The two men talk for a moment longer. Tobio watches the way Shoyo seems captivated by whatever it is Atsumu is saying. His eyes are open but unfocused, his bottom lip rolling under his teeth.

Finally Shoyo closes his eyes and leans his head forwards to rest on Atsumu's shoulder. “Yeah,” Shoyo breathes out, nodding ever so slightly.

“Yeah?” Atsumu asks, rubbing Shoyo’s back.

“Mhmm,” Shoyo hums in affirmation.

Astumu sits back, kisses Shoyo on his forehead and gently puts his hands under Shoyo’s body to guide him off of Tobio’s lap. The release of downward pressure is unnerving. The weight has been comforting and grounding.

The desire to have a body back on his lap is granted when Atsumu pivots into the position. He's heavier. Shoyo is dense, heavier than he looks, especially since his stay in Brazil, but Atsumu is genuinely heavy. The weight is no longer comforting as Atsumu looks directly into Tobio.

“Here is how this is going to go,” Atsumu's gaze is steady, his voice firm but quiet.

Tobio tries to hold back the myriad of emotions that try to flit across his face. Is Atsumu trying to get a rise out of him? What did they talk about? What the hell is going on?

“See, Shoyo has a tendency to go too fast. He doesn't always stop when he should.”

Atsumu leans in closer, not quite putting his mouth against Tobio’s ear, but he is definitely inching into that territory.

“He's so eager to please,” Tobio can feel Atsumu’s breath against his cheek, “But you know that already, don't you?”

He did. He does. He could always feel the unspoken vibration that radiated off of his spiker. Shoyo desperately wanted to be good enough, to have someone know that he was good enough.

“He gets caught up in being good. He doesn't stop to listen to his own needs.”

That's why Atsumu was making Shoyo say it…say what he wanted. Tobio swallows, remembering how it felt to give Shoyo the space to say what he truly wanted.

Atsumu shifts his hips, his thighs easily holding him up so that he can press his pelvis into Tobio’s lower stomach. Fuck.

Atsumu is slightly above him now. The blonde setter catches Tobio’s chin in his fingers, encouraging him to look up.

“So, Tobio, part of the deal is that you follow my lead,” Atsumu presses his hard dick into Tobio’s stomach again, “can you be a good boy and listen?” He is using that velvety voice that makes Tobio feel weird and defenseless.

Is…is this what Shoyo wants? Tobio pulls against the fingers holding him still to look past Atsumu to the spiker. Shoyo’s eyes are wide, but not in fear. Is it hope? Desire?

“Is this what you want?” He asks.

Shoyo nods, his eyes clear.

“Tell me,” Tobio whispers.

He watches Shoyo swallow, “I want this, I want Atsumu to be in control…this time.”

Tobio can't even begin to unpack that implication. This time. God…is Shoyo gonna…let there be another?

Tobio lets his chin be fixed so that he is back to looking at Atsumu above him.

Atsumu's expression is soft, but there is definitely a hint of smugness to the tilt of his lips.

“So, what do you want, Kageyama Tobio?” Oh, there is definitely smugness in his voice. But there is almost something deeper. Something that gives Tobio that funny feeling in his brain.

“Have you ever had somebody tell you exactly what to do before?” Atsumu's head tilts to the side, still holding onto Tobio’s chin. No, he definitely hasn't ever had that, and if he did-chances are he wouldn't have listened.

Something inside him wants this though. Knowing that Atsumu takes care of Shoyo, knowing that Shoyo trusts him so much…and Shoyo had looked so blissed out when Atsumu was in control.

Atsumu’s fingers tighten a fraction, drawing Tobio’s attention back to the man in his lap. Oh, right, the questions - “No, I've never done that.”

Atsumu's lips quirk up in the corner. It makes the back of Tobio’s neck heat up. The prickle of sweat breaks out down his back. There is still the last question to answer. What does Tobio want?

Atsumu tips Tobio’s chin higher. It's uncomfortable. And…for some reason Tobio wants him to keep going.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. Atsumu raises an eyebrow and doesn't move. He's going to make Tobio say it too.

“I-” he finds himself getting lost in Atsumu’s intense eyes above him.

“Go on,” Atsumu drawls.

Tobio swallows and starts again, “I want you to be in control. I want that. And I want Shoyo to feel good. I want you to make sure he feels good.”

Atsumu's gaze softens and he releases Tobio’s chin. Tobio’s head falls back into a natural position, putting him at eye-height with Atsumu's neck. A hand grasps the back of his neck and he feels Atsumu's lips brush against his ear.

“I'm gonna need a safe word with you.”

A…Jesus what the hell is Atsumu going to make him do?

Atsumu must feel how he tenses up, because then he is soothing Tobio through gently petting the back of his neck, “Nothing like that, we just don't know how easily you might fall into it. Want you to have a way out.” .

Into…it?

Atsumu sits back, planting his weight onto Tobio’s thighs. The setter studies Tobio, looking deeply into his eyes. For some reason Tobio can't look away, despite how much he hates eye contact.

“The way you feel, is weird right?”

It is. Like he's slow like syrup. Like every thought has to wade through waist deep water.

Atsumu puts a hand on either side of Tobio’s waist, “It's okay Tobio, you can have this, just let yourself enjoy it,” Atsumu's voice is soft and melodic.

This…is this what Atsumu meant? Is this what he might fall into? It feels…good. A little scary, because Tobio isn't sure what is happening to him. It feels good though, like his brain has shut off and is just thinking about what is in front of him. And what is in front of him is Atsumu.

…

Tobio can't think. All he can do is feel. Fuck, so many different sensations are racing around his body. Shoyo is sitting on his stomach, his knees bent and pressed into Tobio’s sides. Shoyo is relentlessly kissing and marking Tobio’s neck. Tobio didn't expect to leave tonight with hickies but he can't for the life of him care.

In fact, he wants them, he wants to walk out of here with evidence of Shoyo on his body. His hands are restless as they comb through Shoyo’s hair, grabbing on tighter when he feels the sharp sting of a bite or hickey. His voice is also restless, hopping between mindless moans and chanting Sho’s name.

He can barely form even half a thought, especially with what Atsumu is doing beyond Shoyo. There are hands, and Tobio is pretty sure a tongue too. Something hot and wet appears on his inner thigh, and a second later it morphs into a sharp sting. His legs strain, his body instinctively trying to get away from the pain. Hands, God…really strong hands hold down his legs.

He continues to strain until the mouth and teeth release his leg. He gasps, his head falling back into the bed with a thump.

“Good job baby,” Shoyo murmurs into his neck, barely stopping his assault on Tobio’s throat. Tobio can't keep his eyes open. He lets himself fall into the dark space behind his eyelids. The hands stay firmly planted on his legs, holding him down so that a mark can be sucked and bitten onto his other leg.

He can't believe the sounds that he is hearing fall out of his own mouth. He's whining, and moaning, saying Shoyo’s name like it's a prayer.

He's so lost in the sensations that he doesn't notice right away when things shift. Shoyo stopped kissing him, instead panting into the crook of Tobio’s neck. Atsumu also stopped holding his legs down, a few fingers just brushing over the sensitive, bruising marks.

Tobio opens his eyes to a field of orange. Shoyo gives a louder gasp that morphs into a moan. The sound vibrates into Tobio’s skin. Shoyo gives a quiet cry and jolts forwards. It takes Tobio a moment to piece it together.

Atsumu is doing something to Shoyo.

Tobio lets his hands skate down along Shoyo's bare back. His fingers slide along the curve of his bottom. There are no longer pants there…fuck. Shoyo jolts forwards again and this time he bites down onto Tobio’s shoulder as he moans.

The hand that had been on Tobio’s thigh grabs his wrist. His hand is guided along the curve of Shoyo’s bottom until it reaches where Atsumu is inside of the redhead. Christ.

Shoyo releases the bite and nuzzles his face into Tobio’s neck, “Please,” he whispers.

Atsumu takes a hold of Tobio’s index finger and brushes it along where two of his fingers are entering and exiting Shoyo.

“Fuck,” Tobio gasps aloud. How - God - he feels so lucky. Shoyo continues to gasp and moan into his neck, the noises matching up exactly with Atsumu's movements.

“Shoyo, baby,” Atsumu’s voice feels like the only stable thing in the room. He pauses his movement, letting Shoyo catch his breath. The redhead nods after a few seconds.

“You're do’in so good, you feeling present?”

Shoyo nods again, still breathing deeply.

Atsumu leans over his back, putting his mouth much closer to Shoyo's ear, “Darling, do you want to stop? Let yourself think.”

Tobio follows along as best he can with fog having settled over his brain. The way Atsumu talks is so sweet. He doesn't ask the question with a single speck of resentment. Like…he just truly wants the truth.

Shoyo keeps breathing, his chest pressing into Tobio’s. Finally he shakes his head and says, “Don't wanna stop Atsu.”

“Show me how” Atsumu says gently.

Shoyo reaches his hand back and taps Atsumu's thigh.

“Good boy,” Atsumu purrs and goes right back to fucking Shoyo open. The smaller man, now sandwiched between them, yelps at the sudden movement.

Tobio can feel how Sho melts into it, his hand still resting on Shoyo’s ass. He moves on his own this time, inching closer to where Atsumu is at work.

He swears he hears Atsumu chuckle but when he looks up the man is looking back with a calculating gaze. Like he's sizing Tobio up. He must make some kind of decision because he says, “Go on, he wants you to.”

Tobio bites down on his bottom lip and lets his fingers brush against where Atsumu is fingers deep in their spiker. Tobio presses against the soft skin, feeling how it would give way to more. His face feels hot and flushed when Shoyo whimpers into his ear.

Tobio feels Atsumu start to pull out, Shoyo exhaling deeply at the feeling.

“I've had to hear about these,” Atsumu says, tapping against Tobio’s hesitant fingers, “hear him wonder what these long fingers would feel like.” Atsumu takes hold of Tobio and urges him onwards.

“Hear him wish I could go deeper,” Atsumu’s whispered words crack through the space like lightning. Shoyo tenses, his body curling up even more against Tobio.

He…holy fuck. Did Shoyo really?

“Don't you want to show him?”

Shoyo whimpers as Tobio starts to press against him. Tight skin gives way to his fingertips.

Chapter Text

Tobio has always taken care of his hands. It wasn't a question of if he wanted to, he had to. He isn't a spiker, and he hardly ever receives. The only hard hitting he does is serving. Other than that, every single move he makes comes down to the tips of his fingers.

Part of his skill set lies in the sensitivity of those fingertips. Their ability to sense the most minute shifts in pressure against the ball in that split second it takes to set. There isn't time to think, only to feel and react.

He didn't realize how overwhelming it would feel inside of Shoyo. It's hot all around. It's wet with lube. It's tight yet soft, Shoyo's sensitive skin sliding against the length of Tobio’s fingers. Tobio swears he can feel all of it. Every movement feels intense against his finger tips.

Tobio’s brain gets seesawed between the all encompassing sensation along his fingers and the gutteral sounds spilling from Shoyo’s mouth. Just a few minutes ago Shoyo’s voice had been pitched up high, now he is groaning at the bottom of his register. Sounds Tobio never ever imagined he would hear surround him.

Shoyo shudders, his breath catching in a new way. Tobio glances up past the orange hair to see Atsumu. The man is kneeling beside them, his fingers tracing lazy circles along Shoyo’s bare back. Each time Atsumu reaches the nape of Shoyo's neck the spiker jolts and then squeezes around Tobio’s fingers.

It is truly dizzying. Tobio can't quite keep his presence of mind. Everything feels like so much, especially when Shoyo starts mindlessly sucks and lapping at Tobio’s shoulder.

He glances back up to Atsumu sitting above the both of them. He is still tracing over Shoyo's back, eyes curiously watching Tobio.

Tobio can't comprehend how stable Atsumu looks. He seems so unaffected and calm, and meanwhile Tobio feels like he's lost his damn mind. Still maintaining eye contact, Atsumu drags his fingertips down to the base of Shoyo’s spine. The spiker bends, his hips and back spasming and clenching tighter than ever around Tobio’s fingers.

A deep groan falls from his own lips as he tips his head back and focuses on the feeling of Shoyo all around him, clenching again and again as Atsumu plays with him.

“That's it baby, look how good you're making him feel,” Atsumu’s words feel physically big. Tobio isn't sure who he is even talking to. Most likely Sho…yet…his own brain takes the words anyway. He can feel them fill up his skull, the sounds of the syllables repeating over and over.

Shoyo whines and grinds back against Tobio’s hand. “Please, please,” the spiker is breathless, his voice strained as he begs.

Shoyo suddenly slumps forwards, his body heaving in deep breaths, “that's it Hun, breathe,” the clenching has stopped but Shoyo’s body is shaking.

“Can you do more?”

It is quiet for a moment as Shoyo takes in a staggered breath. Then he nods against Tobio’s shoulder. A few seconds pass where neither Tobio or Atsumu moves.

“Yes,” Shoyo breathes out, his body going tense.

Atsumu hums gently and positions himself behind Shoyo. Tobio wonders what it looks like from that angle. His fingers deep inside of the smaller man. Shoyo’s legs spread, head down, body tense and shaking.

“Shoyo,” Atsumu says, his voice clear and firm. Shoyo nods that he is listening.

“What is your color darling?”

Tobio can hear Shoyo swallow before he says, “Green.”

There is a moment where Tobio feels Shoyo’s ass spread further apart and then there is a wet tongue.

Tobio gasps at the same moment as Shoyo yelps. The tongue slides over and around where Tobio’s fingers are spreading Shoyo open. Tobio is fully unprepared for how Atsumu's moan would feel against his already sensitive fingers. The blonde setter laps at the sensitive skin, causing Shoyo to buck and whine.

Then, the tongue is alongside Tobio’s fingers, entering their spiker too. Shoyo bites off the start of a wail and buries his face into Tobio’s shoulder.

And it's only now that Tobio realizes that he himself is here too. He's not watching this from afar. He's fucking here.

He uses his free hand to thread into Shoyo’s hair. He lifts the man’s head up, marveling at how pink his face is.

“I want to hear you.”

Shoyo closes his eyes and bites down on his bottom lips.

Tobio gives him a second and then says, “please let me hear you.”

Shoyo opens his eyes a fraction. His pupils are so blown out. His gaze seems unfocused when he scans Tobio’s face. Finally he nods and lays his head back down, no longer muffling his mouth against Tobio’s skin.

Tobio and Shoyo both feel Atsumu moan again. It's maddening. It's fucking insane. Shoyo indeed lets himself be heard, the sounds bleeding right into Tobio's ear. Between the sensation of being inside him, and Atsumu hot and wet tongue, and the moans along his fingers, and the needy sounds in his ears. God. He's truly going to lose his mind.

Atsumu somehow weasles his way between two of Tobio’s fingers. The pressure of Atsumu's chin against his knuckles, coupled with them both fighting for space inside of Shoyo…and God it seems like Shoyo is loving it. Loving being used by the both of them.

“Atsu-Atsu- please, please,” the plea stops both of the setters in their tracks. Atsumu pulls out and licks over the surface of Shoyo’s spread hole. The spiker jolts and continues to pant against Tobio.

Tobio feels a hand land on his thigh, a thumb sliding back and forth carefully.

Tobio moves to start pulling out and Atsumu stops him. “Just stay, he loves how it feels, don't you Shoyo?”

Shoyo doesn't answer, instead working on catching his breath in Tobio’s ear.

“Hmmm,” Atsumu brushes a finger over where Tobio and Shoyo are connected, smearing lube and spit over them.

“Tobio,” Atsumu says, his voice measured, “have you ever bottomed before?”

Uh…

Tobio blinks, willing his mind to get back together. Has he…Atsumu wants to know if he has bottomed?

Slowly his brain clicks back into place. He has…it wasn't…the best. But he has.

He swallows his pride, “Yeah, I have.”

The room is quiet all around him. Even Shoyo isn't panting as loudly.

“Is it not for you?” Atsumu’s tone carries no judgment. It's kind of infuriating.

Tobio closes his eyes.

It's not that he didn't like ‘it’. The whole thing was just…it was fine. Just fine. There was no connection, there was no work put into it. It didn't hurt per se but it didn't feel good either. It was just fine.

Honestly…Tobio had felt like a hole.

“It is fine,” he ends up saying. Atsumu continues to pet his inner thigh. Tobio is kind of glad he can't see the other setter’s expression.

The silence gets to him and the words, “I only tried it once,” fall from his lips. It's true…and somehow embarrassing.

A gentle hand takes hold of his wrist and begins to pull. His fingers slide out of Shoyo, causing the redhead to whimper in his ear. Against the air the wet feels cold. It's uncomfortable, just like this conversation.

“Sho, scoot up a bit, yeah?”

The spiker does and wraps his arms under Tobio’s head, holding him close.

“Go ahead and relax baby, let your hips down.” Shoyo sighs in relief as he lets his bottom down. His presence becomes heavier all along Tobio’s torso.

The memory of his first time bottoming lies fresh in his mind. The way Atsumu treats Shoyo…it's so different. There is such care and consideration, even when he's pushing Shoyo to his limit.

He doesn't mean to flinch when Atsumu man handles his legs up into the air. Atsumu settles himself right there below Tobio and sets his legs back down, bending them to lay over top of Atsumu’s thighs. Atsumu noticed the flinch, of course, and pets Tobio’s leg soothingly.

“What about topping? What is your experience with that?”

The gentle touch on his leg ever so slightly shifts to a caress along his inner thigh. The feeling sends shocks up his leg into his groin. God he's been so hard this whole time. Shoyo’s ass on him isn't helping with that. And neither is the teasing touch inching further up his thigh.

“Tobio?” Atsumu’s voice is taking on that tone again. The one that sounds like a constant smirk.

Right. Topping. It…even though his fingers had just been in Shoyo, it feels embarrassing to recount his experiences topping. They are much more numerous than his one time bottoming…and he does enjoy it significantly more than that one experience.

Finding words to express this feels impossible. And it's dumb. They are literally here to have sex, he should be able to say that yes, he likes topping. His jaw is starting to ache with how he has been clenching.

Shoyo shifts above him, tilting his head towards Tobio’s ear, “It's okay,” he whispers, “breathe.”

Tobio’s eyebrows pinch together at the words. It's not the first time, maybe not even the hundredth time Shoyo has said these words to him. He breathes. He lets the air fill him to the point where he is lifting Shoyo up slightly. He exhales, letting the weight of his spiker help push the air out.

“I like it, I have more experience with it.”

Atsumu cups Tobio’s thighs in his hands, squeezing slightly when he says “I think you're right Sho.”

Fingers sweep up and down Tobio’s legs, almost reaching where he wants to be touched most.

“He's so detail oriented in court,” Atsumu’s voice is low, and velvety. The edges of his words still retain that smirk.

“He must be such a dedicated lover,” Atsumu grabs onto his legs and pulls Tobio’s whole body, plus Shoyo, a little closer, pressing their bodies together fully.

“I bet he over performs, gets so focused on his partner's pleasure that he loses himself a little.” Atsumu tone definitely carriest a teasing edge. But it's in such an earnest way, like he believes what he is saying fully.

Atsumu grabs a hold of his legs again and pushes them up, the tops of his thighs push against Shoyo’s backside, his calves hang in the air. It feels…God it feels lewd and exposed. He bites down on his bottom lip, willing himself to stay quiet. Because as embarrassing as it feels to be bent like this…Tobio kind of loves it too.

“He wouldn't forget a single detail, would he, Shoyo?”

“He never did,” Shoyo’s voice added into the mix only makes Tobio burn hotter.

“He must go to such lengths to make sure his bottom is taken care of,” with his legs still in the air Atsumu has taken to teasing his fingers along the backside. Each time getting just the tiniest but closer to his shorts hem.

What is driving Tobio the most crazy, is that Atsumu isn't wrong.

The tips of Atsumu's fingers dip below the hem, just as he leans forwards, pressing Tobio’s legs against Shoyo who is tucked into Tobio’s lap.

“He loves it,” Atsumu whispers, pressing harder, letting his fingers go lower, “he loves being good, seeing how good he can make his bottom feel, he loves seeing them fall apart on his dick.”

Shoyo whines, his fingers digging into where they are latched onto Tobio.

“You've thought about it,” Atsumu says, his voice so low Tobio struggles to fully hear him. Atsumu presses his hips forwards. Tobio can feel legs press against his legs. Atsumu’s actual groin must be pressing into Shoyo.

Shoyo yelps as his head is pulled upwards. His hands and arms are still locked under Tobio’s body and there is only so far the spiker can be bent and stretched. He gasps, eyes looking upwards, trying to catch a glimpse of the man pulling him by his hair.

Atsumu presses against Shoyo again, keeping that firm hold on his hair.

“Even with me you've thought about it. About him, haven't you?”

The view…is incredible. Shoyo is straining, slightly above him, eyes now closed, his mouths hanging open as he pants through the pain.

Then the words hit him.

Atsumu pulls harder on his hair, forcing a pained breath from Shoyo's lungs. The setter’s voice is much colder when he says the last part again.

“Haven't you?”

The words send a chill down Tobio’s spine. It's…it's not quite mean or cruel…but it's close.

“Yes-” Shoyo pants out, eyes still closed, “Yes, I thought about him.”

Atsumu hums and loosens the hold. Shoyo falls forwards a bit before he is stopped again. He's right above Tobio.

Without pulling him back Atsumu tightens his grip and Shoyo winces.

“Open your eyes and tell him.” This version of Atsumu…is intense. It's hard to imagine disobeying him…it's easy to imagine that if you do there is a swift punishment that awaits you.

A noise gets caught in Shoyo’s throat before he obeys and opens his eyes. They are moist but not actively crying.

“I-I thought about you. I wanted it to be you taking care of me,” Shoyo looks right into his eyes even though his voice waivers.

Atsumu doesn't loosen his grip. Shoyo swallows and keeps the eye contact.

“Even when I was with him, I was thinking about you.”

Shoyo's face falls forwards and he immediately nuzzles into Tobio’s shoulder and neck. The spiker shivers as Atsumu coos soft praise, his fingers tracing up and down Shoyo's back.

“So, Tobio,” oh God-

“Are you interested in trying bottoming again?”

That…to be honest Tobio is. He always thought it would be different with Shoyo. The connection between them has always been so strong. Surely it would translate into an intimate act like that…

“I'm much more attentive than anyone you've had in the past.”

Oh…fuck.

He means…he meant himself.

“Isn't that right Shoyo?”

The spiker shivers, like the memory itself is overwhelming. Shoyo nods against Tobio.

Atsumu’s hands slide down under Tobio’s shorts hem.

“To be honest, I've been thinking about it too,” Atsumu murmurs as he grabs Tobio’s bottom, spreading him open the small amount that the shorts allow.

“And I'm willing to bet, so have you,” Atsumu squeezes, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

“I bet you wondered why Shoyo would pick me. Cocky, arrogant, self centered…well. At least we know our little spiker has a type.”

Shoyo whines.

“Aren't you curious?” The setter's hands slide back up to the underside by his knees. He presses down, forcing his legs back towards his torso. They block Shoyo in. The stretch aches. And then he feels something hard press against his backside.

“Don't you want to know what made Shoyo whimper and beg? What made him cry because it felt so good? What made him unable to walk away?”

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. Somehow both Shoyo and Atsumu are overtop of him, and God he can really feel how Atsumu’s hips are lightly grinding against his ass. Fuck.

He can barely think with all the stimuli surrounding him. Can barely think with how his body aches. Can barely think as Atsumu grinds into him harder.

But…

Yes. He is curious. Has - been curious.

“What do you say Tobio? You gonna be my good boy?”

Chapter Text

Shoyo’s lips are so soft. Were they always this soft? If he had kissed Shoyo in highschool would they have felt like this?

Shoyo moans, tilting his head to further enter Tobio’s mouth. Because it's not just his lips, it's his tongue too. It feels like Shoyo is invading him. Meanwhile, Atsumu is behind him, fingers wet with lube, gently pressing and probing at Tobio.

He-he hardly ever touches himself there. So he's glad Atsumu is going slow. The persistent pressure where he's so sensitive is driving him crazy. Almost as crazy as how Shoyo is kissing him.

Everytime Tobio tries to pay attention to what Atsumu's fingers are doing his brain gets consumed by how Shoyo’s tongue feels against his own.

Shoyo’s fingers are constantly moving in Tobio's hair. The setter isn't surprised, he isn't sure he's ever seen his spiker remain fully still. He's thoroughly enjoying the feeling. The fingers card through his hair - likely leaving it all kinds of ridiculous - Tobio truly, truly doesn't care. He just wants Shoyo to keep touching him.

Those fingers grab on tight and Shoyo whines high into Tobio’s mouth. Tobio uses his hold on the spiker’s neck to pull him closer. Shoyo seems to be losing his mind, switching between gasping and urgently kissing Tobio. Tobio starts to wonder what Atsumu must be doing to Shoyo- just as Atsumu’s finger starts to slip inside of Tobio.

His hands grab onto Shoyo tighter. Their teeth clink as Shoyo moans into his mouth.

He…he wishes they could get even closer. He - fuck, Atsumu is just rubbing his finger along the very entrance. It's so much. Nobody- fuck nobody has ever touched Tobio like this. This slowly, this, this-

Shoyo detaches their mouth and rests his forehead against Tobio’s.

“Oh God - Oh God -” Shoyo whines.

Tobio is captivated by the man above him. Even though they are so close, Tobio chooses to keep his eyes open. He watches Shoyo’s eyelids pinch tight. God. This man. This fucking man.

A noise is forced out of his own mouth when Atsumu goes a little deeper and hooks he finger, pressing against something that forces his eyes to look upwards. He's…what-

“That's it,” Atsumu coos, “Did he ever touch you here?”

C-certainly not. Fuck. Atsumu keeps rubbing there, God it must be his prostate. It feels like he's being ripped into two directions. That feeling, the one tugging his eyes, nestled somewhere along his scalp, God it actually feels like it's in the center of his brain.

He gasps out, his head tipping back, the sensation tightening. Shoyo keeps holding him close, his lips now kissing along Tobio’s jaw.

Holy fuck. Atsumu is pressing relentlessly in a slow and methodical way. It doesn't even feel real. Tobio notices through the thick fog of Atsumu and Shoyo that his balls are creeping up. Oh god. Oh fucking God.

The urgency in his body increases, each press of Atsumu’s fingers pushing him forwards. The feeling is too much. Like he's losing control of his body. It's too much. It's too much.

Shoyo chokes out a sound that nearly sounds like a sob.

“Breathe, breathe through it.”

Wait…that's Shoyo’s voice speaking, and the sob sound is still happening.

It's him. That's him. The feeling just keeps building. He needs it to release. He really, really needs it to release.

Shoyo arches his back and removes one of his hands from Tobio’s hair. Everything is so full the setter can't track the motion at all until fingers wrap around his dick. There is a smart smack that cuts through the room. Tobio freezes, his brain reeling.

“He can do it,” Atsumu says, his voice firm, “hands to yourself, alright princess?”

Shoyo nods and brings his hand back up to Tobio’s hair. Tobio’s head is absolutely swimming. The stimulation never stopped. Even though the sound startled Tobio, the urgent sensation never dropped. Atsumu just kept pressing up against that spot that is driving him fucking crazy.

The feeling in his head and the pressure in his balls just keeps growing. He's going to die. His legs are shaking. He can't catch his breath. Fuck - fuck - it is all consuming. Pleasure - fuck it's barely even pleasure, its everything - the sensation is pushing away every other part of Tobio, forcing it the edges so the pure sensation can fill his whole body.

“Tobio,” Shoyo’s voice sounds far away, through layers and layers of fog.

“Tobio,” he says again, the sound gaining clarity in his mind.

“Let go,” the voice is right up against his ear, breath hot against his sensitive skin. The sound and the sensations makes his back bow. It feels like the words are forcing something to shift inside of him. The muscles in his hips and thighs go tight, clenching down on something that doesn't even exist. His eyes look upwards under his eyelids, and the two sensations connect in the center of his body.

There isn't any room for even a single thought. Tobio feels that his body is tight, but it might as well not even be his. Everything is tight.
Everything is full.
It's pleasure, a kind of pleasure anyway. Like everything is gone, except for the sensation.

And God. Atsumu doesn't stop. He doesn't stop even as Tobio’s body contorts and nearly bucks Shoyo off. That finger just keeps pushing, forcing everything onward. It's going to be too much. He isn't breathing. He isn't capable of anything. Just existing and letting his body be consumed.

His hand hits the bed, grasping at the sheets and then tapping urgently. He's gonna- for fucks sake, didn't he already?

“I-” he needs something. He needs something. More. Less. Anything.

Atsumu pushes in hard and stays pressed against that spot. His finger moves minutely, not willing to sacrifice the pressure.

Tobio gasps, finally able to take in air. His hand is tangled in the sheets. His other clutching Shoyo’s back.

“Good boy, breathe, then one more.”

His body is like a vice, none of the forced relaxation that usually comes with having finished. It's because Atsumu is still pressing up against him. Still stimulating that place that, honestly, Tobio never fucking knew could feel like this.

His lungs take in gulps, desperate for air. His mind pieces back enough to hear Atsumu’s words and feel the sticky mess on his stomach.

‘...then one more.’

Oh God.

Tobio wants it. He wants Atsumu to fuck every single thought clean out of his head. He's also scared at the idea of being forced to finish again so soon after. Can his body even do that? Will he just get trapped in that tight place?

“Tobio,” Atsumu’s voice is still firm, but not commanding.

Tobio keeps breathing and taps the bed a few times. He's listening.

“Color?”

The word sits heavy in his head. He and Atsumu talked about this and came up with a safe word.

“The colors, they set the pace and the tone, they help me know where you're at and where your limits are, without it all having to stop altogether.”

“If you feel nervous, let me know.”

“Yellow,” Tobio says, still catching his breath.

“Should I pull out?” Atsumu's voice is clear and so much more approachable.

“No, it's good, just,-” he breathes, “kinda thought I was gonna pass out.”

He hears Atsumu's gentle laugh, “relax then, I won't move till you give me green.”

The setter is true to his word and slowly Tobio’s body relaxes and comes back to him. When he finally opens his eyes, squinting against the ambient light of the room, he finds Shoyo above him. The spiker is staring, quite intensely. It's not a totally unfamiliar feeling, to have Shoyo’s eyes on him…but it has been a really long time. The intensity is still there. The focus.

Tobio’s cheeks flush under the attention. Shoyo just watched him completely fall apart. He's about to turn his head away, feeling unable to stand the intensity straight on-

“You did that so easily,” Shoyo whispers.

Umm, no, that really wasn't easy. Tobio meant it when he said he felt like he might pass out.

Atsumu shifts inside him slightly to lean forwards against Shoyo. He wraps his free hand around the spiker and presses his face into his bare back.

“Everyone is different babe, it's okay. You're perfect. It's okay that it took you longer to get comfortable using that.”

Shoyo’s eyelashes flutter as he hears the words. Small warm drops land on Tobio’s face.

“I'm going to pull out,” Atsumu says a moment before he does. Something inside of Tobio aches at the absence. He tries to ignore it, instead focusing on Shoyo. He brings his hands up to cup the quietly crying face as Atsumu braces Shoyo's chest to lean over and kiss the back of his neck.

“Baby,” Atsumu murmurs.

Tobio is still sort of reeling from that whole experience. His body tingling in weird ways with a strong undercurrent that wants more. He's also feeling shaken by how drastically Atsumu's voice can shift. His tone seems to shift everything, tilting it one way or another.

“Why was it so easy for him?” Shoyo asks, tears continuing to roll down his cheeks and fall onto Tobio.

Despite the fact that Shoyo is propped up, only his hips pressing into Tobio, it feels like something heavy is on the setter's chest. He hates seeing Shoyo cry. There is also a part of him that feels honored that the man is letting himself.

“You're so infuriating,” Shoyo bites out, his eyes firmly shut. A fist hits the bed right next to Tobio’s head. Wait…Shoyo is angry with him?

Shoyo sits back on his hips, pushing Atsumu back as well. His clenched fists press against Tobio’s chest.

“You always could just do things,” his fists now press against his eyes, “you never had to try-” he takes in a ragged breath, “you never had to fight-” his breathing turns into sobs. His head falls turns down towards his knees.

Tobio watches Atsumu tuck his face into Shoyo's neck, eyes closed, hands soothing up and down the spiker’s biceps.

“God I want to hit you,” breaks through the tears. A hand separates from Shoyo’s eyes and for a second, Tobio thinks he will.

He doesn't. Instead he grabs onto Atsumu's hand, clutching it to his body.

“Why could he do it?” Shoyo's voice cracks.

“Oh baby,” Atsumu fully wraps his arms around the spiker, “Sometimes it's just hard. Sometimes we think someone will find us good if we give them what they want.”

Oh. The realization sinks in. For the whole emotional turn Tobio had generally been lost. He knew Shoyo was upset, but his cloudy brain couldn't pinpoint the source. As his mind cleared up, and the others said more, it started to make sense.

Shoyo was upset that Tobio had been able to say he needed a break. Tobio finds himself blinking, the gears turning slowly in his head. Some of the things Atsumu had said came back to him.

So eager to please

He gets caught up in being good

He doesn't stop to listen to his own needs

Oh. Everything clicks together. Shoyo’s reaction forces Tobio to understand that something…maybe several somethings have happened to his spiker.

Atsumu squeezes the redhead tighter, “I'm sorry that so many people showed you that you had to give up yourself to be good.”

Shoyo groans, his head hanging down, body limp, possibly only held up by Atsumu's arms.

“I just want to be good.”

Tobio feels his heart break. Oh Shoyo. He thinks of all the times he treated the man like he wasn't good enough. He…Tobio could cope with his feelings. Couldn't cope with how Shoyo’s laugh made his stomach flip, or how he loved watching the sun make strands of his hair glow.

He…he's one of those people. One of the people who taught Shoyo that he had to become something else to be worthy. Tobio bites down on his tongue. His vision of Shoyo swims. He never deserved Shoyo, and somehow he made Shoyo feel like the lesser one.

His eyes fill completely and he closes them. Shoyo sniffles above him.

You are good. You are so good, Shoyo.

Tobio can't get the words out though.

He's not even sure he deserves to say them.

Chapter Text

He knows he's being ridiculous. He can feel his brain spin, each revolution bringing him further down.

It's ridiculous.

He's ridiculous.

It doesn't stop the tears from falling or the thoughts from continuing.

He can feel Atsumu's hands splayed along his chest, holding him close.

You asked for this.

You're wasting it.

You're ruining it.

Stop. Please stop.

Shoyo doesn't want to be doing this. The last thing he wants is to spiral out in front of these two. Well…maybe it's not the last thing. There are definitely worse things…as he knows…but it's still awful.

He should open his eyes. Maybe he can ground. Find something. Something to look at.

Atsumu is tired of this.

Tired of you.

You used up all your chances.

He wishes he could see his partner. He's also terrified that the inner voice is right, and that if he did look at Atsumu he would see disappointment, annoyance, dissatisfaction - anything. The poor setter more often ends up holding Shoyo than fucking him.

Bad partner.

With his eyes shut, in his own dark world, the voice really is convincing.

Maybe- maybe he can still save this. If Atsumu still wants him…

Shoyo shifts his hips back against the man behind him. Something warm fills his chest at the knowledge that Atsumu is still hard.

His stomach sours. Maybe he's just still hard because he wants to fuck Tobio.

This had all been at Shoyo’s request. All of it. But…what if Atsumu wants somebody who isn't so-

What if he's realizing that it's actually Tobio that he wants? What if he's realizing how difficult Shoyo truly is?

He fights to keep his body from hiccuping with the sobs that attempt to force their way out. No. No - he's not going to ruin this. He can save this. He can show Atsumu.

Shoyo grinds back, pushing his naked ass against Atsumu’s clothed front side.

He feels Atsumu tense.

Shoyo pushes back again.

Want me. Please still want me.

“Shoyo,” it's gentle. Too fucking gentle.

The sob building in his throat grows.

No. Want me. Really want me. Grab me, push me down, force me, make me take-

“Baby, hey, hey, it's okay, breathe, you're good. I don't need that from you.”

Shoyo’s brain is screaming now.

I want you to. I want you to-

I want you to not care that I'm crying or hurt. I want you to just want me, please. Please.

Atsumu’s hands are firm on his hips.

No

Shoyo's jaw clenches, the urge to wail rising up his throat. He's only just barely holding it in.

Nobody likes it when you cry. You ruin it when you cry. It ruins the mood. You ruin the mood. You make yourself unlovable.

Nobody in their right mind wants a sniffling cry baby.

The voices of the others join in. Their words overlapping with each other. It hurts.

Shoyo feels himself losing the fight against his own throat. He hiccups his next breath.

Why don't you want me?

His lungs heave a deep breath. The dam is going to break. Smooth hair pushes against his open mouth. It surprises the gasping sob that was about to fall from his lips.

The sensation of hair is followed by arms and then a broad chest. His body takes in a sharp inhale and his lungs shudder. His eyes open to a thick wall of black hair.

Tobio is sitting up…holding him. Long arms wrap around both himself and Atsumu behind him. Between the two of them…

“You are good.”

His body freezes. He feels like a trapped wild animal. He has so much inside of him that he is barely keeping down. He's drowning under the constant fall of tears. Tobio is getting soaked.

Why? Why would Tobio lie?

“Baby, please breathe,”

Shoyo didn't even realize he had been holding it. He takes a deep breath in. It nearly hurts.

Apparently, once he started to breathe he couldn't stop. Completely beyond his control, his lungs keep taking short huffing breaths. He wants to stop. He can't.

Atsumu’s hands are still braced along his chest. The blonde setter constricts his arms and squeezes Shoyo. The air is forced out of his lungs for a second. A moment later he has control of his lungs again. He tests out taking a normal sized breath. Atsumu lets the pressure go.

Shoyo is shaking. His vision is partially blocked by black hair. The remaining space shows Atsumu's room. His eyes land on the upper shelf top of the dresser.

Small things. Small worthless things. But Atsumu kept them. Sea glass from a trip to the beach. A palm sized rock with shiny mineral striations through it. An eraser that is shaped like a little fox. Stupid stuff. Stuff Shoyo just found and handed to Atsumu to show him. The item would disappear and Shoyo would quickly forget about it until the next time they hooked up and he saw the trinket on the dresser.

The sight always made his stomach twist. He would push any feelings away and fall into Atsumu and his bed.

Now though, he can't tear his eyes away, despite how they are swimming and overflowing with tears. His nose is leaking. He's a mess.

Why did Atsumu keep them? Honestly, some of the things are just trash. Shoyo’s throat burns.

Fingers slide into the backside of his hair.

It's Tobio, pulling Shoyo closer to him.

He lets his head fall forwards onto Tobio’s shoulder and closes his eyes. The spiker feels drained. With his face tucked into Tobio’s shoulder he can smell the setter’s quiet scent. It's mostly clean smelling, with a hint of something deeper underneath. It's not how Tobio smelled in highschool, but it's still comforting.

The fingers on the nape of his neck brush up and down, sliding through his short hair. His body loves it. His brain is screaming at him to stop. Don't let them touch you so nicely. The exhaustion from crying wins and he slumps around the man in front of him.

“Shoyo,” it's just a breath in his ear.

“You're so good Shoyo.”

His body barely moves as he cries into Tobio’s shoulder.

It's been a while since he lost it like this. His head throbs. His throat is parched. He sits with the utterly defeated feeling of having made a scene.

I was supposed to be better. I don't do this anymore.

Tobio’s soft fingers. Atsumu's strong arms. Trinkets on the shelf. Kind words.

Maybe you're wrong - Shoyo dares to think.

Maybe the voice is wrong. He's never known Tobio or Atsumu to do something they didn't want to do. Headstrong, stubborn, frankly frustrating - but in this moment - their obstinatance proves that they mean it.

His jaw flexes as a new wave of emotion comes over him. Hesitantly, he untangles his arms from the mess of human around him and wraps his arms around Tobio. His fingertips overlap on the setter's back.

The feeling of Tobio’s flat back under his palms. The soft smell of the man all around him. The memory of his voice saying something so kind just moments ago.

He's crying. He's also grasping at Tobio’s back, trying desperately to close any space between them.

The rumble of Astumu’s steady voice behind him, “That's it baby, just like that.”

Shoyo buries his face deeper. His hands grab on tighter.

Fingers cradle the back of his head.

“You were always enough. You were always good. Just for being you.”

Shoyo bites down on his tongue to hold in the wail that threatens to come out.

These words - from someone who knew him - they ache. They burn. It feels like they are attempting to squeeze his heart until it stops. Like some blocked off part of his mind, that was desperate for so many years to hear these words, is suddenly overwhelmed. The thing he has always wanted - to be good. To be wanted. To not have to change or be more or be extraordinary. To just be accepted.

He didn't know it would hurt like this.

He hears Tobio’s wet sniffle in his ear.

Why did Atsumu keep all of those little trinkets?

…

It's been a while since Shoyo’s brain did this. In the beginning this happened more.

It seemed to go hand in hand with Shoyo learning that it was okay to have it slow down or even stop. Each time rebounded and he broke down. Atsumu always held him. Always made sure he knew that he was safe.

It's been a while since it escalated like this level of not breathing and then hyperventilating. His spiker’s poor body must be so dehydrated and tired.

Shoyo is breathing regularly now. His body shudders every few inhales. It seems like Tobio stepping up really helped. Shoyo is buried in his old setter's shoulder.

There is a part of Atsumu that aches at seeing Shoyo find such comfort in somebody else. He kisses the nape of Shoyo’s neck. Ultimately he is glad. Shoyo never put down his love for Tobio. He deserves to have this. To have the person he truly wants be there for him.

It's okay. Atsumu settles on Shoyo’s free shoulder and gives him gentle pecks.

Pursue what you want, Shoyo. Forget the rest, just follow your heart.

Atsumu holds the spiker close. If this is truly the last time- he breathes in deeply. Shoyo won't ever truly be gone. They will always have a relationship. Even if it's vastly different, it will be good. Because it's Shoyo. He's what makes it good. Not the activities they do, or the things he performs. Just him.

Fuck.

You're not losing him, Atsumu.

Calm down.

It will be okay.

He takes another deep breath. The familiar smell of Shoyo calms him. He closes his eyes.

…

Somehow this feels even more intimate than anything they had done earlier. Shoyo is tucked against him, their chests as close as they can be. Tobio’s heart is hammering in his chest. He surprised himself when he sat up and pulled the spiker in a hug.

It felt right though. So right. Like he was finally letting himself be true. Shoyo is warm, like a little heater. The spiker is quieter now, there are just small sniffles that get muffled into Tobio’s body.

It feels so good to hold Shoyo. All those times Shoyo helped him through a panic attack or clung to his arm when he saw something that amazed him- Tobio always wished he could return the favor. He didn't and still doesn't know how to initiate touch, and Shoyo never broke down in front of him like this before.

He loves how Shoyo feels against his chest. Each breath pushing against his body for a moment. He loves how Shoyo’s hair feels against his cheek. He loves how it feels to have Shoyo in his arms. He loves- God he has loved Shoyo all along - but this is different. Getting to be here for him, be the one to hold him, listen to him cry, reassure him- it's different. It's so different.

Tobio wonders if this is how Shoyo felt when he would tap Tobio’s knees to ground him. Was he always so eager to help out because it felt good? Honestly…that's hard to fathom.

It's hard to ignore how true it feels for himself though. He genuinely feels good getting to be there for Shoyo. He could stay here forever if he needed to.

His heart feels content in a way he didn't even know could be possible. Apparently today is full of new realizations. Prostate orgasms are mind blowing. Caring for a loved one brings an inner peace that is unparalleled. He doesn't ever want Shoyo to leave his life.

His fingers involuntarily tighten, holding Shoyo’s head closer to his shoulder.

Please let me stay. Please want me back. Please.

A fourth horrible realization: Shoyo might not want this too.

The thought stabs into his chest. Tobio already wasted so much time. It could be too late. He glances up and around his view of the room. They have a life. Who is Tobio to show up and expect anything?

He closes his eyes.

Breathe. He imagines it's him and Shoyo setting back and forth. Their passes are steady and rhythmic. He relaxes into Shoyo and breathes in deeply.

Chapter Text

When Shoyo starts to stir, Tobio is pretty positive that he's coming back. The stillness of the spiker’s body during his cry was unsettling. Shoyo is never still. There is always a leg jiggling or fingers picking at something aimlessly.

So the slight shifting of Shoyo’s body is comforting. He's back.

Tobio…really doesn't know what needs to happen next. With himself, they always grounded him and then would just go about their day. This is different though, it's not highschool, or practice time, or anything like that.

It'll probably be time for Tobio to go soon.
He was only ever here for one reason anyways.

Atsumu's hands start moving in a firm, predictable pattern over Shoyo’s arms. It reminds Tobio of trying to wake somebody up. They are all so close he can clearly hear everything Atsumu says.

“Baby, can you talk?”

“Yeah,” Shoyo’s voice comes out like a soft croak.

“You did so good Sho, so good,” Atsumu’s hands keep moving along their path.

Shoyo doesn't respond to this, and just curls in a fraction closer to Tobio.

“Can you tell me where your brain is at?”

Shoyo swallows, “it doesn't feel like I'm mentally under but my body does feel weird, probably from the crying.”

Atsumu hums gently, “Do you remember what set it off?”

Shoyo sniffs and nods.

It is quiet in the room for a few seconds. It is good to hear Shoyo's voice. His real voice, even if it is soft and raw.

“I'm sorry-” Tobio and Atsumu cut him off at the same time, their words blurring together before they both halt.

Tobio’s face burns. What was he thinking? Of course it should be Atsumu who works with Shoyo through this.

Atsumu picks up after a beat of silence.

“Don't ever apologize for that Sho, your feelings are yours. You are entitled to them.”

Tobio feels Shoyo's hands clench tighter at his back.

“How about you, Tobio? How is your brain feeling?”

Tobio blinks. Uh….

It must take him too long to answer because Atsumu pulls back to look at him, “Can you talk?”

“Ye-yeah,” Tobio stutters out. Having Atsumu look at him, frankly study him…it's a lot.

Atsumu stays put, eyes on Tobio, hands still lightly rubbing up and down Shoyo’s biceps.

“It's fine,” Tobio gets out.

Atsumu tilts his head when Tobio doesn't elaborate, “Do you feel fuzzy? Or like it's hard to think?”

It's hard to think with you staring at me like that, Tobio thinks. He glances away and tries to check. Fuzzy? His body feels kind of fuzzy, like he's both more and less aware of each of his body parts. His brain though…feels clear. Certainly not like how it felt when Atsumu was working on him and Shoyo was on his neck and lips.

During that he swore he wasn't thinking at all. It felt more like he was just coping with all the sensation.

“I'm clear,” he says, his voice sounding far too loud. Tobio lets himself look back at Atsumu who is still studying him. It's unnerving.

“Pay attention to how you feel. If something starts to feel wrong let me know. That means you need something.”

“O-ok”

Atsumu closes the gap and slides back against Shoyo’s back, his head falling to his shoulder.

Tobio hears the sound of a kiss and Shoyo tenses.

“Are you mad?” the redhead whispers.

“I'm not mad, I'm so proud of you. There is a time you would have swallowed it all down and let it eat you up. I'm so proud of you for feeling it.” Atsumu kisses some part of Shoyo again, his hands still petting and reassuring Shoyo.

“Tobio?” It's said so softly that the setter takes a second to make sure he really heard that.

Oh God. Shoyo thinks he’s mad?

“No, no, not at all-” there are so many things that he wants to say. None of them feel…right. He doesn't feel like it's his place to say. He bites down on his bottom lip. God, is he really going to be a coward again? Now of all fucking times?

“You helped me so many times in highschool, and I never understood why. I felt like a burden. I felt weak. But-” he takes a deep breath, “Just now, it felt so good to hold you while you hurt. And I think maybe now I understand.”

“You were never weak, or a burden.” Shoyo says.

“And neither are you.”

Shoyo buries his face into Tobio’s shoulder and holds onto him tightly. The words are muffled but Tobio hears.

“Was I? Back then…?”

Tobio’s throat burns. Say it. He has to say it. It might be the only chance he gets to say it.

“No, Sho, you never were,” his voice cracks. Say it. Say it.

“I'm so sorry I never told you.” The choke of impending tears rises up in his throat.

“I never was able to tell you what you meant to me, or how good you were.” He uses the hand still in Shoyo’s hair to hold him closer.

“I never made sure you knew. You should have known-” his voice breaks and his lungs quake.

The bubble of cry has closed his throat. He can't get out any more words.

I need to tell him. I need to tell him that he was lovable and good all along. I need to tell him I'm sorry. That I regret everyday not having the guts to say it then. I'm sorry. I'm sorry Shoyo.

His throat burns. He needs to say it. He needs to. He needs Shoyo to hear it.

New hands land on his biceps and start to tap. It's Atsumu. Tobio bites down on his tongue and squeezes his eyes shut tight. Tears fall and land on the spiker below him.

The steady drum of hands on alternating sides of his body is enough to keep him grounded.

“I loved you,” he gasps out, forcing words past his closed throat, “I loved you and that terrified me.” His body feels crazy from trying to hold back all the emotion. He needs to say it. He needs to.

“You were everything and -” he is interrupted by a forced breath, “-it hurt. Loving you and knowing I'd never act on it hurt. So I hurt you instead.”

He pulls Shoyo so close he is probably crushing him, “I'm so sorry,” his voice is fully deteriorating now, “I'm so, so sorry.”

He's crying so much he can't keep his eyes open. He feels Shoyo shake in his arms.

It was so much more than just missing Shoyo all these years. It was always more.

Shoyo was always more.

Tobio isn't sure how much time passes. They cry together, holding each other. Mourning time that is long gone. Mourning chances missed. Mourning years lost.

Tobio’s body quiets into occasional sniffs and stray tears.

Shoyo pulls back, startling Tobio. It feels like so long since they have actually been face to face.

Shoyo’s eyes are rimmed red, his cheeks and nose flushed and pink. His smile is sad when he says, “I loved you too.”

Tobio is caught somewhere between a laugh and a cry. They are ridiculous. The two of them.

He cups Shoyo’s cheeks and just looks for a moment. The words that always terrified him bubble up. He's caught in Shoyo’s eyes. They are pink from crying and his eyelashes all clumped together. The words grow bigger. Once he says them there is no taking them back.

He needs to know. I need him to know.

Tobio takes a deep breath, his eyes still caught in Shoyo’s.

“I still love you.”

Shoyo’s eyes open wider and his gaze glances quickly between each of Tobio’s eyes. His bottom lip quivers a moment before he is lunging forwards and kissing Tobio. Hands cradle his head and cheek and Tobio lets himself melt into the feeling.

He breathes out through his nose, lips moving against Shoyo’s. He's raw - from the orgasm, from the crying, from the confession. The feeling of Shoyo’s hands on him and his lips sliding incessantly against Tobio’s mouth - it's so intense.

The urge to cry overcomes him again. His own fingers grip Shoyo harder, holding him as close as he can be without their teeth clashing.

I love you.

He gasps into Shoyo’s mouth, the well of tears threatening his eyes again. He can't get close enough. Their body's are already touching in so many places. He needs more.

“Closer,” he requests when Shoyo gives him a millimeter of space to breathe. Shoyo whines and nods, grabbing onto Tobio’s arm for leverage to try and scoot even closer. He is having a hard time moving his knees from this position.

“I got you,” to be honest, Tobio had forgotten about Atsumu. The blonde setter slots his hands under Shoyo’s arms and lifts him up and forwards. It puts Shoyo directly on top of Tobio’s lap. Tobio had also forgotten that they lost their clothes quite a while ago. Shoyo is right on top of him.

Shoyo quickly wraps his arms around Tobio’s neck and goes back to deeply kissing him. From this new position the spiker has better leverage and shifts his hips in time with the kiss.

Despite all the emotions swirling around his body, Tobio is getting hard. He threads his hands into Shoyo’s hair and lets himself be devoured. He lets Shoyo use him as something to grind against.

“Are you wanting to finish what we started?” Atsumu’s velvety voice is back in both of their ears. Shoyo doesn't stop kissing Tobio, not even when Atsumu's hands snake onto the spiker’s hips and help him move in a rhythm.

He does moan though. Right into Tobio’s mouth. It's addicting…and overwhelming, in the best way. He tentatively moves a hand from Shoyo’s hair to his hip, where Atsumu is.

Their fingers overlap. Atsumu doesn't pull away and he doesn't push Tobio away either. Tobio puts his second hand down onto their spiker’s hip too. Then he sets the pace. Atsumu quickly catches on, helping push and grind Shoyo against the dark haired setter.

Tobio has them work Shoyo at a slower pace than the man had on his own. Shoyo’s body goes pliant under them as he lets himself be moved. He keeps kissing Tobio, his hands firmly latched onto the setter's shoulders.

“Is this what you want, Shoyo?” The tone is teasing, but it feels like everyone knows that Atsumu actually means it. They rock Shoyo’s hips once more before Atsumu halts the movement

“Sho, do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no,” Shoyo attempts to push his own hips forwards but Atsumu holds firm.

“Slow down, let yourself think.”

Shoyo groans in annoyance. Apparently this is nothing new. Shoyo lets himself be held in place and tilts his head back away from Tobio’s lips.

Tobio watches him. Shoyo’s eyes are closed and he looks peaceful. There are a few seconds where the whole room is quiet.

Shoyo’s eyes open slowly, he looks directly at Tobio. It takes everything in him not to flinch away from the eye contact.

“I love you too,” Shoyo's voice is soft but decided. There isn't a hint of doubt.

“I want to continue, if everyone else does.”

Tobio feels Atsumu's fingers, which lie under his own, clench and dig down into Shoyo’s flesh. He then pulls out from under Tobio and laces his fingers so that they are on top.

Somehow, that small change feels so different. Tobio’s whole hand is against Shoyo’s bare hip. And someone else’s strong hands hold him there, pressing down with just enough pressure.

“What do you want, Tobio?”

He holds Shoyo still, just like Atsumu had, but he tests out moving his hips to press against the spiker. Shoyo jolts and then whimpers, his eyes relentlessly staring at Tobio.

Tobio's brain finally catches up with itself. He processes Shoyo’s confession, and his desire to continue, and finally the question he needs to answer.

He loves me

“I want whatever you'll let me have.” It's the truth. He's pretty sure he'd do almost anything if it meant Shoyo was happy and satisfied.

He pulls Shoyo against him as he grinds forwards, their hips colliding in a slow drag. Shoyo's hard, his erection pressing against Tobio’s groin. He shifts the spiker's angle and pulls them together again. Shoyo swallows a cry as they glide together. Shoyo's so warm. Especially there. It shouldn't surprise Tobio, but God it is amazing to feel.

“Kiss me,” the spiker requests as his eyes fall shut and his hips are moved by the two setters.

Tobio does, drinking in the sounds Shoyo makes as he keeps grinding them together.

He’s all sharp inhales and pleasured grunts. Everytime Shoyo starts to urge them on faster, Atsumu grabs him tight and stills him. Each time Shoyo’s whines become more desperate.

By the fifth time Shoyo is whispering “please, please, Atsumu please -”

The blonde setter isn't swayed and he just tells Shoyo to be good, to take what is given to him.

The redhead nods and goes back to kissing Tobio.

Tobio himself isn't sure how much more he can take of this. The pace is slow but each movement feels heavenly. Shoyo's hardness pressing and sliding against Tobio’s - it's driving him fucking crazy. And as Shoyo invades his mouth with tongue, he can't help but imagine what else that tongue can do.

Without realizing Tobio starts pulling Shoyo against him faster, bucking his own hips up harder. Atsumu's fingernails dig in. Tobio gasps in pain but doesn't pull away. He lets the leisurely pace resume, letting the hands overtop of his guide the speed.

Somehow Atsumu is teasing them both. Making them both hold back to earn more. It's maddening. And what's worse is the blonde truly seems to be enjoying himself.

One of Atsumu's hands pulls away to latch under Shoyo’s chin. The blonde setter pulls Shoyo’s head back, tilting his face upwards towards the ceiling. Tobio gets the view of a broad hand covering and wrapping around Shoyo’s throat.

It's…God what a fucking sight.

Shoyo's chest rises and falls quickly.

“What do you think princess? Have you been good enough?”

Shoyo breathes in sharply but doesn't respond. Atsumu uses his grips on the spiker to hold him still so he can press against his backside.

Shoyo lets a gentle moan fall from his lips but he doesn't dare try and press back for more.

Tobio watches Atsumu's hand flex on Shoyo’s throat, “Think he's been good enough?”

Shoyo nods as much as the hand on him allows.

Atsumu brings his lips right against Shoyo’s ear, “Think I should let him fuck you?”

Tobio can see how Shoyo’s body reacts. It flushes pink and sinks down, like it's too much effort to hold himself up.

“Please Atsu-” Shoyo’s voice is thinner than usual.

The hand tilts Shoyo’s head even more severely, putting him right against Atsumu's shoulder.

“I'm going to have to show him what you like,” Atsumu whispers, his eyes flashing up to meet Tobio’s.

“Yes,” Shoyo breathes out.

Atsumu smiles and licks up the side of Shoyo's neck until he reaches the spiker's ear.

“Tell him again.”

Shoyo’s mouth opens, but it takes a second for any sound to come out.

“I love you,” Shoyo is still looking up at the ceiling, or maybe even his eyes are closed. Tobio can't quite fathom why Atsumu would have Shoyo do that. God he may never fucking understand the msby setter. Why did he let Tobio in here at all?

The sound of Shoyo straining to breathe fully fills the room.

Atsumu's eyes pierce right into Tobio, but the question is for Shoyo, “Do you want to tell him what he’ll have to do, or shall I?”

Chapter Text

Tobio can feel that his face is burning. He is still watching Atsumu hold Shoyo by the throat, his thumb absently rubbing up and down.

“Hmm?” Atsumu pushes his hips forwards against Shoyo. The spiker is being held up in such a way that his legs are starting to shake, “Can you say it darling?”

“Atsu-” his voice is a plea. It twists something in Tobio’s stomach.

“If you can't say it, maybe I'll just have Tobio watch,” Atsumu presses hard against Shoyo, making it very clear what he means. The pressure pushes Shoyo’s body forward.

The hand on Shoyo’s hip moves over his skin, fingers brushing around where he is hard between his legs.

Shoyo’s hips move involuntarily at the slight contact. Shoyo whines pitifully, his hips jerking minutely as Atsumu refuses to touch him, fingers dancing around his pelvis.

“Please,” Shoyo breathes out through the grip on his neck.

“Please what baby?” the words drip from Atsumu's mouth in such a patronizing tone, like he's walking a child through asking politely for something.

Atsumu continues to tease him, seemingly delighted by how Shoyo’s body reacts to his touch.

Shoyo groans in frustration. Tobio can't even imagine how it feels to be him right now. Held up by his neck, light teasing touches, and Atsumu's mocking voice in his ear, making him say it out loud.

“He-” Shoyo’s voice halts when Atsumu’s hand brushes alongside his dick.

“Fuck,” he moans, taking a deep steadying breath, “He wants to fuck you-” he gasps, as Atsumu’s fingers wrap around him, “god-god-”.

“Keep going baby,” Atsumu says sweetly, like he's not touching.

“While you, - haaa, haaa, while you- fuck, while you fuck me,” Atsumu hand is loosely grasping Shoyo, moving slower than anyone in the right mind would want.

Tobio is watching Shoyo’s aching dick get teased, small clear beads forming at the tip, when the words finally sink in.

Atsumu wants to fuck Tobio…while Tobio fucks Shoyo.

Tobio feels himself clench at the thought. He just about passed out from Atsumu’s fingers…God, what is his dick going to feel like?

When Tobio finally looks up and away from Atsumu’s loose grasp on Shoyo, he's met with intense eyes. Atsumu is looking directly at him while Shoyo is forced to look down the length of his nose.

“You want this?” Tobio forces his eyes to stay on Shoyo’s face instead of the movement of Atsumu's hand.

Shoyo blinks slowly, his jaw flexing under Atsumu's grip. His beautiful brown eyes open and bore into Tobio, “yeah,” he bites down on his bottom lip.

The word does something to Tobio’s stomach. It burns. It sparks. Shoyo wants this. He wants….oh god he wants to…

“Do you?” Atsumu’s clear voice cuts through the fog. The backside of the setter’s fingers brush along Shoyo's length, making the shorter man tremble.

Tobio’s brain feels slow. It takes time for the words to process, his eyes fully distracted by Atsumu’s hand now.

Yes. He does.

His eyes trail up to Atsumu’s smug face. Somehow Tobio feels small. Atsumu knows it. His smile grows and he pulls harder on Shoyo’s throat. The spiker flexes upwards, trying to relieve the pressure on his neck.

God. Tobio really fucking does. He wants those hands on him, holding him right where Atsumu wants him. His eyes get trapped by the repetitive movement of Atsumu's fingers, trailing up and down - up and down - up and down -

“Good boys answer,” his voice sends Tobio’s eyes back up to his face.

“Yes,” he breathes out. Because it's the truth. Yes, he does want that. So much - an almost an unfathomable amount.

Atsumu is looking down on him through just the slits of his eyes. The blonde hums, his fingers idly tapping on Shoyo’s throat as he thinks.

Atsumu kisses Shoyo’s cheek, smiling as he nuzzles into the spikers ear, “you gotta be thirsty hun.”

Shoyo whines and shakes his head.

Atsumu kisses him again, leaving his lips against Shoyo's cheek. He speaks quietly, resting his forehead against the spiker, his grip on his neck loosening, “Don't you think Tobio needs water?”

Shoyo grumbles. He knows it's a trick. But it's a trick that will work. Tobio watches Shoyo take a deep breath and slowly open his eyes.

“Yes, okay.” Shoyo is obviously annoyed, it doesn't dampen Atsumu's smile at all.

“Good,” Atsumu whispers, “go ahead and sit down.”

Shoyo groans as he allows his legs to fold up, his weight settling back onto Tobio’s hips.

Atsumu gives him one last kiss before he hops off the bed. Shoyo turns to look up at him. Atsumu cups Shoyo’s cheeks and then threads his fingers through his hair, ending the motion in a ruffle. It makes Shoyo smile, his shoulders raising in embarrassment.

“Be right back love, do you need anything else?”

Shoyo shakes his head, still looking up at his setter.

Atsumu spends a moment looking back down at him, “okay,” he whispers.

He lingers a moment more, his thumb brushing over Shoyo's cheek. It's such a tender moment. It makes Tobio feel a little ill.

Atsumu makes his way out of the room, pulling the door behind him until it is nearly closed without latching.

The room is full of quiet. Atsumu, in many ways, had been the pillar. Everything had been under his watchful eye and steady voice. In the absence of his presence, every small shift of fabric sounds enormous.

Shoyo turns away from the door and back towards Tobio. It almost feels…illicit, being alone together. Shoyo's eyes are cast down, just parts of his iris visible under his eyelashes. The space is so empty. It's really just them.

Without thinking his hand reaches up and he brushes Shoyo’s cheek. He watches the spiker swallow, his eyes darting up to glance at Tobio.

It's you. How can Tobio make him understand?

“You don't have to,” Shoyo whispers.

Teeth pinch his bottom lip as Tobio assesses how he wants to respond. He's not fully sure what specifically Shoyo is referring to. The sex? Comforting him? What?

“I want to be here.”

Shoyo chews on his top lip, his eyes still pointed down.

Tobio shifts up into his elbows. His stomach twists as the words he wants to say tumble in his head. Be brave. Just say it.

“Can I hold you?”

Shoyo stiffens, his eyes widening slightly.

Tobio is almost certain he's going to get rejected. Which is fine, if Shoyo doesn't want to be held, then by all means don't -

“You'd want to?” His voice is thin and weary. It's awful.

“Yes,” Tobio says simply. Because…yes, he really does want to.

Tobio watches Shoyo continue to stare downwards, blinking, before ever so minutely, he nods.

Tobio is thankful for his abdominal muscles that allow him to sit up with ease. He wraps his arms around his spiker and pulls him closer until their chests touch.

Despite how warm Shoyo is, he shivers as Tobio gets them settled.

“Are you cold?”

“It's fine,” Shoyo whispers into his shoulder.

Stubborn. Tobio grabs a blanket that got pushed into one of the corners of the bed and gets it wrapped around the both of them.

Their naked bodies quickly warm the blanket cave and Shoyo’s body stops shaking. The spiker slowly but surely relaxes and slumps against Tobio.

Something so overwhelming rises up in Tobio’s chest. He never wants this moment to end.

“I love you,” it's so quiet, he's not even sure Shoyo will hear him.

He feels fingers tighten on his back and Shoyo fully tucks his face into Tobio’s shoulder.

“I love you too, Bakeyama”

Tobio can't help but smile and hold the red head closer to him. God.

I missed you so much.

Tobio closes his eyes against a sudden surge of tears.

I didn't even let myself fully feel how much I missed you. Because I couldn't. I couldn't feel it all and function at the same time.

Fuck.

The wave of fear that it's all going to slip away again hits. Tobio isn't sure he can close up that box again. Not like the first time.

His fingers find Shoyo’s thick hair. He cradles the head resting on his shoulder.

The dam truly is well and gone. Tobio can't go back to pretending like his heart doesn't already belong to someone.

They both let their bodies sag, using the weight of the other to hold everything still. Balance. It was always a balance with them. Whether it was racing to the club house, neck and neck, or finding just the right height for Shoyo to spike over Nekoma’s block.

They always seemed to be racing forwards, urged onwards, side by side, until it was all gone. Shoyo followed his truth and got on that plane. If Tobio could do it all over again…would he go to Brazil too?

He feels Shoyo’s soft breath against his collarbone. No. He wouldn't. In some way, Tobio knows that Shoyo needed that. Needed something that was his. And God did he come back stronger for it. It still aches though.

But maybe…no, Tobio can't let himself think like that. Just be thankful, be present. He buries his nose into Shoyo's soft hair. Enjoy this.

The door creaks, signalling that Atsumu has entered the room again. His footfalls are quiet and neither of the men on the bed move to look up. Tobio really doesn't want this moment to be over. He wishes it could be like this always, Shoyo in his arms, a shared warmth between them.

The bed dips and Tobio knows it's over. His fingers involuntarily clench, wanting just a few more seconds of this.

Don't tear him away from me, not yet.

To Tobio’s surprise Atsumu doesn't break them up, he simply sits quietly. It should be unnerving. It should feel like he's waiting for them to stop. But it doesn't. It feels…

Tobio doesn't know. He can't make sense of any of this. His arms constrict and he holds Shoyo closer to him. It feels like he can't get close enough. The limitations of their skin, their bodies, it's frustrating. Tobio wants more, something beyond what should be physically possible, he wishes he could have Shoyo so close the lines blur.

He's never felt like this before, like he wants something so deeply, something that is impossible. The desire grows in his stomach, moving up towards his chest. He wants Shoyo. He wants so much of Shoyo - as much as the red head will give him.

He notices that Shoyo is breathing more heavily against his neck. Is he feeling it too? The need? The need for more?

Shoyo’s hands start to move, fingertips brushing along Tobio’s bare back. It sends electric currents up his spine, the sensation almost unbearable. Somewhere between ticklish and pleasurable. His voice produces an involuntary noise, a pathetic whimper.

The sound doesn't deter Shoyo, his fingers trailing up and down, making Tobio feel as though he is electrified. It's now that Atsumu intervenes, his voice cutting through the intense moment.

“Water,” he murmurs.

Shoyo’s hands still but don't leave Tobio’s back.

“You both need it,” Atsumu adds.

Shoyo nods against Tobio’s shoulder and pulls himself away. The blanket stays around the both of them as Tobio finally opens his eyes. The room is dim, soft lighting catching onto Shoyo’s cheek bones and hair. He's beautiful.

Shoyo watches the spiker take the glass, tipping his head back to drink. His throat bobs with the moment and Tobio finds himself mesmerized. He can't help but remember what it felt like to have Shoyo's mouth on his, to have his tongue slide against his lips, inside his mouth…

The glass is righted and Shoyo takes a deep breath after his final swallow. He looks up at Atsumu who carefully takes the emptied cup, “Good boy,” he says gently, moving the glass to the side table.

Another is retrieved and passed to Tobio. Oh. This…it's just a glass of water, but it feels so…good. He forces his gaze to stay in the glass of water, unwilling to look at the blonde passing it to him. It's too much, the small kindness, it's too much. He lets the cool glass touch his lips, quickly followed by deeply refreshing water. It slides down his throat and Tobio swears he can feel how it makes his stomach feel cold.

“That's it,” Atsumu says softly. Tobio has to pull the glass away from his mouth. For a second he's sure he's going to choke and go into a coughing fit. He manages to swallow and passes the cup back to the waiting hand. The words keep ringing around in his head, the tone almost…affectionate

That's it, that's it, that's it…

Good boy. That's it, good boy…

Tobio’s eyes shut as he imagines how it would feel to hear those words. Atsumu told them to Shoyo…

Fingertips brush against his face, quickly followed by a gentle palm. Tobio’s eyes flutter open, fully expecting Shoyo to be the one touching him. But then it's Atsumu, his eyes as soft as his touch.

“Do you need anything?”

Tobio’s stomach twists. It's not a need. But it is a want. His jaw clenches, fighting to hold the words in.

Atsumu’s thumb brushes against his cheek, “Don't gotta do that, don't gotta be small.” Atsumu words ache. Because that's exactly it, Tobio is trying to ignore this part of himself, the part that clearly wants something. That wants…

He braves a look up at Atsumu's honey brown eyes. He means it, his face is painfully earnest.

“I want-” apparently Atsumu holds some dangerous control over Tobio because his mouth is already starting before his brain has even decided on what to say. He forces his voice to stop, collecting what little dignity he still has.

Atsumu just keeps holding him. It's insufferable. Atsumu is insufferable. He feels new, smaller hands creep onto his thigh.

“You can tell him,” Shoyo whispers.

Tobio swallows down the lump in his throat. It doesn't leave though. Might as well - he doesn't have much pride left anyways.

“The way you talk to Sho, and to me,” he starts, feeling like his mouth is far too dry considering the water he just drank.

“Mhmm,” Atsumu confirms.

“I like it,” he forces himself to say. The beat of silence that falls after is nearly excruciating.

“Oh,” Atsumu says softly. There isn't judgement in his voice, at least none that Tobio can detect. The blonde’s thumb goes back to stroking Tobio’s cheek, “Are you jealous that I called him a good boy and not you?” the soft voice saying these words makes Tobio’s stomach flip. It's not the first time Atsumu has used good boy when referring to him…but…

The hand stroking his cheek stops, and instead threads into his short black hair. The nape of Tobio’s neck prickles as he feels fingers brush along his scalp.

The breath is stolen from his lungs when that hand clenches, pulling on his hair. It hurts. But fuck does it also do something to Tobio. He feels his body relax, letting his head be held in place but those strong fingers.

“Are you jealous?” Atsumu asks again.

Tobio’s scalp stings. Atsumu tilts his head back, baring his throat to Shoyo. The fingers tighten, and the pain starts to intensify. Tobio loves it, as much as he's also in pain. He's known he's a bit of a masochist. You don't become a pro athlete and be shy of pain. But this, fuck, this, the pain along his scalp feels like it's filling while whole body with anticipation.

“Yes,” he moans, half delirious with how it all feels.

Atsumu hums, his fingers loosening. Tobio immediately misses the sensation, even though it was nearly too much. Suddenly Atsumu pulls his hand away completely, and Tobio nearly falls forwards without something holding him back.

“If that's what you want,” Atsumu says, his voice patronizing, “then you'll have to earn it.”

A finger under his chin keeps his head up. Atsumu’s smirk is all he can see. A pink tongue wets his lips. Tobio watches the movement. He feels like he's floating. He wants to see it again. He wants to see that tongue again.

The fingers grasp his chin harshly, forcing eye contact.

“Can you do that? Be so good for me? Earn the praise you want so badly?”

His mouth is too dry to do anything but nod.

“Then fuck my spiker till he cries.”

Chapter Text

Tobio’s stomach drops, right into his groin. It takes everything in him to not groan from the suggestion alone. Atsumu keeps the grip on his chin, not letting him escape the dominating eye contact.

“You're little spiker, your childhood best friend, fuck, all he talks about is wanting that. Wanting you to take what you want, wanting you to hold him down and take everything.”

Tobio’s chest flushes hot at the words. Is that true? He tries to glance over to Shoyo for confirmation but Atsumu tilts his head away.

“Focus darling,” he mocks gently. Only after a few seconds of eye contact does Atsumu continue, “Are you willing to give him what he wants? Because if not, I'm happy to have you watch-”

Panic compels the word out, “No-”

Atsumu grips his cheeks hard, pressing the flesh against his teeth and jaw.

“Then tell him,” Atsumu tilts his face so that he can finally see Shoyo properly. The spiker’s chest is rising and falling quickly, his face tinged a beautiful pink.

“God I want you,” Tobio says, watching Shoyo’s bottom lip get caught under his teeth. Tobio doesn't know how to do this, he doesn't know how to talk to Shoyo like this.

‘He likes it,” Atsumu says gently, his thumb reaching to slide over the curve of Tobio’s lips, “he likes to hear how people plan to use him. He's a perfect slut like that, can get off just from someone saying what he's good for.”

“You've thought about it too, haven't you? Thought about what you'd do to him, if there were no barriers?”

Tobio nods, he lets Shoyo see him nod.

“Let yourself daydream about all the depraved things you wanted from him? His mouth…his thighs…what else Tobio?

Tobio feels like he can't breathe. Because yes, he has fantasized, and day dreamed, and yes some of it was depraved.

“Tobio, darling, you're not being very good.”

Tobio whines, he's trying, he's really trying -

“It's okay baby, I know it's hard, here,” Atsumu doesn't let go of him, keeps that hand on his jaw and holds him in place, while he turns to Shoyo.

“Spread your legs princess, let us see.”

Shoyo does, he spreads his knees apart, sitting back on his heels, his hard dick pushed out into empty air in front of him. It's fucking lewd.

“Hands behind your back,” before Atsumu has even finished the command Shoyo is complying.

“That's a good boy,” Atsumu praises. The words intensify the odd pocket of jealousy that is residing inside of Tobio’s chest.

Atsumu turns back to Tobio, “Just watch him here,” Atsumu says, drawing Tobio’s attention to the hard, aching, pink erection between Shoyo’s legs.

“Watch how your words affect him,” Atsumu takes his fingers off of Tobio’s jaw, placing them back into his hair.

Oh. Ooooh. Actually, yeah, Tobio does want to see how his words affect Shoyo.

“Your mouth,” he starts, eyes trained on where Shoyo's length hangs in the air, “I used to watch it. When you talked, when you drank from the tap, when Coach would get us popsicles…” Tobio cuts himself off when Shoyo’s dick arches into the air, bobbing, just starting to drip as it settles back into position.

Fuck. Holy fuck.

“I imagined your lips, wrapping around - sucking - drooling - I'd have to look away, otherwise I would start to get hard. Sometimes I still did.”

Tobio glances up to see that Shoyo's eyes are closed, his mouth slightly ajar, shoulders and biceps straining to stay in place. He puts his gaze back down between Shoyo’s legs.

“I thought about how it would feel to part your lips, push them open, make room for myself in your mouth.”

Shoyo gasps, his hips twitching, cock again flexing up and down. The clear precum has pooled enough that it hangs down in a long thin strand. It swings with each twitch of his dick, not quite long or thin enough to break. Tobio’s mouth waters, as he imagines licking it up, holding her own lips right over the tip and drinking down all the precum Shoyo produces.

“He does adore using his mouth, don't you princess?” Shoyo whines at Atsumu's comment, his legs shaking from the effort of staying still.

“He loves to feel something fill his pretty mouth, pushing until he gags.”

“Atsu-” Shoyo pleas, his cock flexing upwards again and again, the strand of precum swinging wildly.

“What honey? It's true. I'm not sure there is anything you like more than when I cum down your throat.”

Shoyo cries out, the sound raw and broken.

“Except maybe both me and Tobio cumming inside of you-” Atsumu doesn't even finish the sentence. Shoyo’s head tips back, his mouth open in a silent cry, hips jerking in short motions. His dick keeps moving, pushing through empty air, getting absolutely no stimulation. His whole abdomen flexes forwards as he spills onto the bed. Finally his voice comes back, as he keeps draining onto the sheets. He gasps and groans, hips shaking, hands still firmly behind his back.

Tobio's eyes keep darting between the mess on the bed and Shoyo’s heaving chest. Did…did he really…?

Holy fucking hell.

Tobio finally drags his gaze away from the quivering thighs up to Shoyo’s face. His eyes are slowly lidded, face flushed pink, mouth still open, taking fast breaths to recover…from coming untouched.

Somehow, all of this makes Tobio feel like he loves the spiker even more. He wants to shower Shoyo in praise, test him again, see how little it would take to replicate such an amazing thing.

Shoyo’s body starts to sag, his torso swaying back and forth like he's having trouble staying balanced.

Tobio can't tear his eyes away. He's just so…in awe, honestly. He's never seen anything like that. Of course it would be Shoyo, didn't he always defy the norm?

“Isn't he incredible?” Atsumu asks, putting a hand on Shoyo's shoulder to steady him.

Incredible doesn't even begin to describe him. Nothing else comes to mind, other than the word ‘perfect’.

Shoyo is still in position, hands clasped behind his back, his knees digging into the bedding. With the dark spots on the sheets in front of him, he is truly a sight.

Atsumu tips the redheads head up and studies his face. Shoyo’s eyelids flutter as he looks back, body completely still otherwise.

“Came just from thinking about it, huh?” Atsumu murmurs, “just from thinking about both of us, leaving you a mess.”

Shoyo swallows, the sight goes straight to Tobio’s groin. Fuck.

“From both of us using you,” Atsumu says quietly, “because that's what you want, isn't it baby?”

Shoyo's mouth opens slightly, his pink tongue visible against his bottom lip.

“Oh?” Atsumu coos, “Is there something you want?”

Shoyo keeps looking up at the blonde setter, unnaturally still. Tobio knows the amount of energy that exists inside of that body. Incredible stamina, muscles ready to fly at a moment's notice, it's surreal to see everything so still and relaxed. It reminds Tobio of how Shoyo looks while he's sleeping.

“Tell me,” Atsumu says more firmly.

Shoyo blinks slowly. Something starts to shift, Shoyo's posture straightens and his eyes clear, almost like he's dragging himself out of a fog.

“That's it,” Atsumu praises, “tell me what you want.”

“I want you to show him,” Shoyo says breathlessly.

Atsumu hums pleasantly, seemingly pleased by this direction.

“Well, you've certainly earned it, but has he?” Atsumu asks, tilting his head towards where Tobio is sitting.

Shoyo's face looks desperate as he nods yes. He wants it. Whatever he is asking for, he really wants it.

Atsumu leans in and kisses Shoyo’s cheek, “tell him what that means.”

Shoyo swallows, his jaw clenching for a moment as he processes the words.

“It means,” he takes a breath, “I want him to show you how I like it.”

It almost feels like Shoyo's fingers are brushing up his spine again. Tobio suppresses the shiver that threatens to run through him. How will Atsumu ‘show’ him?

Atsumu huffs out a short laugh, pressing his lips down against the column of Shoyo’s neck. “I don't think poor Tobio understands,” he kisses back up towards Shoyo’s ear, “tell him exactly what you want.”

Shoyo bites down on his bottom lip, stifling a moan as Atsumu pays attention to the shell of his ear.

For the first time Shoyo's arms twitch, like he's close to breaking the position.

“Atsu-” his voice begs for something unsaid.

“Too much princess?” Atsumu responds, pulling back a fraction to study the spiker’s face.

Shoyo winces, like he's taking stock of an injury upon landing wrong, but ultimately shakes his head ‘no’.

“Think you can handle it?” Atsumu asks, his lips going back to Shoyo’s neck. The spiker shivers, manages to keep his hands in place and whispers back, “Yeah, I can do it.”

Tobio watches Atsumu smile as he continues to kiss, moving Shoyo's head up so that he can mouth at the front of his neck.

Tobio watches Atsumu’s teeth flash out, pressing into Shoyo’s sensitive skin. The man keens, presenting more of his neck while his muscles strain to stay still.

“Tell him,” Atsumu reminds, tilting Shoyo’s head so that he can start mouthing on the other side. The sensation seems to drain Shoyo of the ability to think, because he just quietly moans until Atsumu pulls back.

“You said you could do it,” he reminds.

…

Shoyo’s breath hitches as he closes his eyes. He's trying to ignore the sensations, get even a smidge of his mental faculty back. He is always so weak to Atsumu's mouth.

It didn't take many sessions of hooking up for the blonde to realize the power his tongue weilds. Shoyo loves it. It's a euphoric sensation, that mouth teaseing all the sensitive spots until his mind goes blank. That exact same bliss is what makes tasks like this so hard. He can't think, let alone talk, yet Atsumu continues, purely because Shoyo said he could take it.

Shoyo digs his nails into his hand, still firmly behind his back. The pain doesn't overwhelm the pleasure sensations, but it does give Shoyo something to grasp onto.

He breathes, using every ounce of his ability to ignore how Atsumu is nipping at his lower neck. He wants to just give in, let Atsumu have his way, fall into the feelings and nothingness of subspace.

He's not alone though. It's not just the two of them. And he told Atsu that he would be good. Just have to get the words out. Just have to think long enough to say it, and then maybe, Atsumu will take pity on him.

Despite this line of thinking, and how desperately Shoyo wants a break from the overwhelming stimulation, he also hopes Atsumu never stops and pushes him right past his breaking point.

His throat chokes on a pleasured gasp, fuck, Atsumu bites down hard on the softer flesh of his chest. It's enough. It's grounding enough to pull his brain out of its stupor.

It feels like Atsumu's request for Shoyo to clarify was ages ago. Atsu doesn't forget though, “He's gonna show you,” even to himself he sounds fucked up. Keep it together, just a little more.

He struggles to find the next words, the words that will satisfy Atsu and make Tobio understand.

“He's gonna use you, to teach you,” is what he finally manages to say. Atsumu's hand is keeping his head tilted back, so he can't see how Tobio reacts.

Atsumu’s hand adjusts to hold him right under his jaw bone. Those strong fingers dig into his neck, not cutting off air, but showing the possibility. Shoyo whimpers, his resolve falling almost instantly.

The feeling of Atsumu's lips against this ear is overwhelming.

“I think he wants to,” the blonde whispers, keeping a firm hold on his throat, “he's so blushed.”

His head is so full, he barely hears the words, but he does hear the tone. Atsumu is pleased. His body runs warm. Shoyo did a good job. Atsumu is pleased.

Shoyo knows that the other two are talking now. Atsumu still has his hand clamped around Shoyo’s throat, his fingers giving just enough pressure. Shoyo tries to listen, whatever it is, is probably important. But that hand…it just keeps holding him in place, squeezing a tad harder occasionally.

He can't quite find a way to think because of how deep that hand has him. After a bit he lets himself stop.

If Atsumu needs me, he will bring me back.

Shoyo lets himself focus on the pressure of Atsumu’s fingers. He feels his brain get softer as he stops fighting it. He lets his eyes slip open, just a bit to see Atsumu.

The blonde is looking at him with familiar and kind eyes. Watching Atsumu's mouth move helps Shoyo catch more words.

Shoyo isn't sure what it is about his throat but It is a surefire way to get him under. Something about the pressure…

Then Shoyo’s hands are being moved from their place. He resists, no, he needs to stay, he needs to be good. Atsumu’s voice in his ear coaches him through it. Shoyo lets himself be moved. His back finds the bed, his thighs aching from having been released from their kneeling position.

Once he's settled laying down with nobody touching him he feels the shift. It's always so sudden, but it never hurts less. A pit of fear sparks in his chest. Immediately tears spring into his eyes. There aren't words to go with the thoughts, but the feelings are clear. Unwanted…alone…

“Shhh, shhh, babydoll, we are right here,” a hand brushes his cheek, cupping his face gently, “We got you, breathe.”

He takes in a shaking breath, trying to let the gentle touch soothe his worry.

Atsumu won't leave. He wants me.

Shoyo feels the knot in his chest lighten. He wants me. He opens his eyes to see that it's actually Tobio caressing his cheek, but it had been Atsumu's voice consoling him. New tears threaten his eyes.

They both want me.

Shoyo's arms reach up, grasping at Tobio, trying to pull him closer. Tobio obliges, getting in-between Shoyo’s legs and leaning over him, so that their faces are matched.

“Hey,” Tobio breathes out, his fingers still holding Shoyo's face.

Shoyo turns his face, pressing it into Tobio’s palm. There is a desperation growing in his body. It's demanding. And it's embarrassing.

Shoyo keeps his eyes closed, trying to focus on the places they are touching, trying to ignore the voice in his head that won't stop begging for what it wants.

‘Love me,’ it says, ‘please, please love me.’

“Can I kiss you?”

Something between a laugh and a choked sob makes it way out of Shoyo’s mouth, because how fucking ridiculous. Tobio can do anything he wants. Shoyo nods, face still buried into Tobio’s hand.

Lips press to his presented cheek, slowly working their way towards his lips. It's almost automatic how his face turns to receive the kisses. He feels the way his chest lightens under the attention, like a flower opening under sunlight.

His mouth moves, slowly at first, but then more urgently. He's kissing Tobio. Tobio’s hands are on him, roaming his chest and neck. He doesn't grip hard or squeeze like Atsumu does, it's more of a reverent touch.

His body jerks, his chest pressing up into Tobio as his nipple is rolled between the setter’s finger and thumb. Apparently Tobio is catching on to how sensitive Shoyo's body is. They keep kissing, Shoyo making more and more noises as Tobio plays with his chest.

It gets to the point where Shoyo forgets to kiss back, his mouth open but his mind consumed with how Tobio feels. The pressure in his chest is building as the setter keeps rubbing over his hardened nipples.

“Kiss him darling, look at how he needs you.” Atsumu's voice against his ear is like a shock of cold water. It does get Shoyo to start kissing again. Right up until Atsumu starts to mouth at his ear and neck. All three of those sensations together, the mouth kiss, his nipple, Atsumu on his neck…Shoyo feels like a doll who’s strings have been cut. He's unable to control the way his body writhes and jerks under the two men.

He's absently aware of how his fingers are digging into something. None of the sensations stop. His feet find purchase on the bed and his hips buck - a part of him trying to find a way out, a way to lessen it all.

That feeling is building, the one that means he's pretty sure he's gonna lose his mind. He could tap out, he has in the past, when the overwhelming sensations were too much. He doesn't want to stop though. He really doesn't. He wants it to overwhelm him, render him useless for anything but being used.

A hand, God only knows who’s, slides under the arch in his back. At first it just grasps him lightly, but then the fingers start to trace light delicate patterns along his spine.

His brain keeps flirting between each sensation, Tobio’s tongue against his lips, Atsumu’s teeth on his neck, his nipple, which is being teased and flicked, and the hand under him, making his body arch impossibly higher. He wants to cry. God, maybe he is already crying. Who fucking knows. He can hear the sounds leaving his lips, desperate whines and whimpers. He sounds pathetic. He must look pathetic. Knowing that makes his skin feel like it's burning up, makes each of their touches feel electric.

He often gets this feeling with Atsumu, like his desperation directly links to Atsumu’s desire to devour. The more Shoyo lets his feral side show, the more he gets. It's a vicious and delicious cycle.

Sometimes, it really is enough to just let himself take it. Especially when he can feel how Atsumu loves it.

He's completely trapped in the sensations, his brain rushing from one point of interest to another. It really feels like he's melting, yet his body keeps arching and tightening.

He lets both men have their way. Just take it. Take it like a good boy. He's so fucked out he doesn't realize until it's almost too late.

“Atsu -” he tries to make the man understand, despite how his brain is barely functioning. Neither of them stop. He chokes on a sob as the body sensations continue to intensify. He needs to breathe, otherwise it'll happen again. He tries to take a deeper gulp, his attention pulled in what feels like a thousand directions.

Atsumu’s teeth down near his nipple sends the air right back out. He, Shoyo needs, he needs - his hand is on Tobio’s back - the last line of communication -

It feels like several seconds pass before the message actually reaches his hand and urgently taps Tobio’s back. He keeps trying to get himself to breathe but it's all so overwhelming, the sensations don't stop, if anything they are heightened by his lack of oxygen.

Wait. It's not stopping. Panic seizes him. Tobio didn't stop. Atsumu doesn't know. They'll just keep going…even though he tapped out.

“Ah-” he groans out, the panic is doing weird things to his head. He wants to move, he wants to push them all off of him. He wants to scream.

He feels tears on his cheeks. His eyes sting. All the while the sensations continue, still intense, but now in a way that hurts.

Please stop, please. He just wanted to tap out so that he wouldn't cum again, but now-he manages to get his hand to tap Tobio’s back, harder this time.

The relief - he takes in as big of a breath as he can around the sobs fighting for room in his throat. Tobio pulls back, pulling Atsumu by the arm.

They stopped. He stopped. Shoyo can feel the edge of the panic, it's right there, about to send him spiralling. Send him into memories and feelings that are long gone.

He opens his eyes to gauge the others. How fine does Shoyo need to make himself seem?

Atsumu is there with kind brown eyes. “Let yourself feel it baby, we got you.”

Despite how well Shoyo knows Atsumu, and despite this response being typical for the setter, it still surprises him. A few more tears leak from his eyes, the permission to be himself, a new, awful kind of overwhelming. The words soothe the panic.

And that's when Shoyo realizes what the panic has actually been about.

Lying. Hiding himself. Having to pretend like everything was okay. Having to -

He lets Atsumu look at him, and he looks right back. The tears have stopped. He's caught his breath.

“You have me,” he says, his head still spinning a little. Atsumu nods, his gaze unwavering.

Shoyo nods and closes his eyes.

He has me. The fear slowly melts out of his body. The twist in his stomach unwinds. Yeah, he has me.

“I think Sho tried to stop sooner,” Tobio says quietly.

Shoyo swallows, pushing down the urge to deny the claim. He nods, feeling shame burn down his chest. The tears threaten to resurface.

“How long?” Atsumu says tensely.

For some reason, Shoyo’s body tells him that he failed. Atsumu is disappointed. Atsumu is upset. No, he's…well he is upset, but not with Shoyo…right?

The conflicting feelings and thoughts swirl and fight, neither able to dominate and settle.

“I don't know,” Shoyo says. He really doesn't, it could have been minutes, or seconds.

“About a minute,” Tobio says.

Just a minute. All of this, over a minute.

“Shoyo,” Atsumu says quietly.

Shoyo is biting down so hard on his cheek he might soon taste blood. Just a minute. One minute. God, he's done so much fucking longer than a minute and still managed to come out smiling.

But it's different with Atsumu. Shoyo can't keep those walls up with Atsu. In fact, Atsumu has worked damn hard to tear them down, and show Shoyo that he can be himself. It's hard to go back. To try and bottle himself back up.

Neither of the men touch him. That hurts in a whole different way.

“It's fine,” Shoyo says. He wishes he could make them look away. Stop looking at him. Stop paying so much attention.

“Baby,” Atsumu murmurs. Apparently even Atsumu doesn't know what to say. That's a first.

“I just didn't want to finish,” Shoyo says, firmly keeping his eyes shut, “I was close, and I could feel that I was getting lightheaded, so…” he trails off, knowing that Atsumu will understand.

It only happened twice, but it was scary each time. Apparently, Shoyo has a tendency to hyperventilate and also hold his breath, that, in combination with everything else…he only passed out for a couple of seconds. When he came to, Atsumu was shaking him, tears streaming down his face.

“You did so good darling, you did perfectly, you did everything you were meant to do,” Atsumu says.

The praise doesn't settle over him like a blanket. It usually feels so good. But now it's just…empty.

“Shoyo,” Tobio’s voice claws at the back of his brain.

“Shoyo,” he says again, pausing until Shoyo opens his eyes.

Shoyo can't unclamp his jaw, but he does keep rare eye contact with Tobio.

“You told me to stop, and I didnt.”

Shoyo can't look away, as much as he wants to. Tobio moves forwards, slowly lowering himself to lay down on Shoyo’s level. They still look at each other, but it does feel better, being even with each other.

“I didn't stop right away,” Tobio’s voice is soft, “that must have been so scary.”

Shoyo’s bottom lip trembles. His eyes stay trained on Tobio.

“You tried, you did exactly what you were supposed to do, it's not your fault, it's mine.”

Shoyo’s mouth opens to object.

“Don't,” Tobio whispers, “I didn't mean to hurt you, but it's still my fault.”

Shoyo swallows against the lump in his throat.

“I'm sorry,” Tobio starts to reach forward but pulls back. Shoyo wants the touch. He wants the connection and reassurance.

His fingers twitch, wanting to reach forwards and help Tobio bridge the gap.

“I'm sorry, you deserve people who stop right away, I'm so sorry I didn't notice until after, it- it felt so consuming, I, I haven't, it's never been like that, I didn't realize that-” Tobio makes himself stop, “I'm sorry, Sho I'm so sorry.”

Ataumu’s words hadn't touched the pain inside of Shoyo…because he wasn't the one Shoyo needed to hear it all from.

Shoyo reaches forwards, his fingers cupping Tobio’s cheek. He looks so sad. So incredibly sad.

“I know,” Shoyo says back. And he does. He knows Tobio wouldn't hurt him like that. Hurt him in other ways…sure, but not like this.

“It really was good, so good, I just didn't want to finish again, not yet anyway.”

Tobio doesn't seem convinced. His eyes stay alert, his gaze flirting back and forth between Shoyo’s eyes.

Shoyo bites his lip for a moment, trying to find the words. He decides, that it probably is just best to go with the truth.

“I've passed out, twice, from the orgasm, and not breathing,” he watches Tobio’s eyes widen, “I woke up right away those times, but earlier it was feeling so good that I couldn't catch my breath, so…”

“You didn't want to pass out,” Tobio finishes.

“Yeah, I thought that might freak you out.”

Tobio huffs out a half laugh. Well, it's something.

“Were you scared?”

It's not a questions Shoyo wants to answer. He'd love for Tobio to live in a world where he didn't have to know that Shoyo was scared. Even if it was only for a minute.

“Yes,” he admits, “but it wasn't fear of you, it was fear that I'd have to pretend like everything was fine.”

Shoyo watches Tobio’s face change into something different. He can't quite place it.

“It's okay,” Shoyo tries to reassure, his fingers brushing back into Tobio’s hair, “I didn't have to hide anything.”

“Would you have? If I didn't realize my mistake?”

Shoyo…doesn't know. He's not sure which urge within himself would have won. He's pretty sure Atsumu would have noticed that something was wrong. He thinks about how hard it would have been to keep going, like nothing had happened. And most likely, as soon as he looked at Atsumu he would have cracked.

“Probably,” he says, chancing a glance to his setter who is still sitting up nearby.

Atsumu's face is also unreadable. Why are they both being so weird? He looks back towards Tobio. His eyes are shining but there are no actual tears. Seriously, it's not that big a deal.

Well, it's not that big of a deal…because of how they reacted. It would have been a lot worse if it had gone differently. Fine.

He closes his eyes, “I'm okay, promise. You don't have to be so gentle with me.”

The corner of Tobio’s mouth quirks up, “When have I ever treated you like you're fragile?”

That's true, Tobio never babied him, not like that. The validation that Tobio doesn't think he needs to be coddled sparks something in his chest.

“If that's true, then touch me already.”

Tobio blinks, as if assessing if Shoyo means it. He must find what he needs because he wraps his arms around Shoyo’s hip, his palm flat against his back and pulls the spiker close.

“Better?”

“Mhmm” Shoyo vocalizes, enjoying how good it feels to be against Tobio like this.

It's so cozy and warm. The fingers along his back trace loose circles.

Shoyo reaches a hand up, grasping in Atsumu’s direction. The setter lets Shoyo take his hand and guide him to lay behind Shoyo.

The spiker sighs, two warm, safe bodies boxing him in. Each of the setters has a hand around him. Two lungs breathe out warm air that tickles his skin. It's perfect. Somebody’s fingers crawl up into his hair and start lightly scratching his scalp. God, now it's really perfect.

His brain gets so quiet he thinks he might actually drift off. It has been a very active night. All the crying…and cumming untouched…and nearly passing out…and confessing their love…Jesus. Maybe they should save something for next time.

Next time…the idea makes his chest bloom warm. Yeah, next time. His nods off, tucked perfectly between his two setters.

Chapter Text

Shoyo’s light brown eyelashes flutter but he seems to remain asleep. Tobio watches intently, scanning the spiker’s face for signs that he is waking. He was so tired last night, he must be in a deep, deep sleep.

Tobio wonders if Shoyo is dreaming…and if so, what is he dreaming? Tobio’s eyes flick down to watch how Atsumu’s fingers flex where his hand is braced against Shoyo’s chest. The blonde setter quietly breathes out as he holds Shoyo in place, thrusting his hips ever so slowly against the spiker.

Morning light illuminates the room in a whole new way. If Tobio looked around he would probably see a lot more than he could in the dim of nighttime. He doesn't though, because how could he?

Shoyo is right there in front of him, face relaxed in sleep. Shoyo's body shifts forwards as Atsumu grinds against him again, a very quiet grunt passing the setter's lips.

The both of them had woken up a bit ago, each very content to stay cuddled against their Shoyo. After a while Atsumu seemed to get restless, constantly fidgeting and moving, jostling Shoyo in the process. Once the movement got rhythmic Tobio caught onto what was happening.

He's using Shoyo’s body. Tobio can't tear his eyes away, watching for the moment when Shoyo wakes, opens his eyes and realizes what is happening.

Despite his plan to see the moment Shoyo wakes, his eyes keep quickly darting down to where the T-shirt stops covering. It's a bit too large for the spiker, when he stands it falls to his mid-thigh. With the way they fell asleep, one leg hitches up over Tobio’s legs, he is getting such a tantalizing view of Shoyo’s upper thighs. Soft, pale skin, probably so sensitive, definitely strong…

Fuck - he imagines what it would feel like to have Shoyo's legs on either side of Tobio’s head, squeezing involuntarily in pleasure. The same strength and force that lets him fly, holding Tobio close to him.

His mouth waters, his eyes sliding up and down Shoyo's leg, wishing that the shirt was riding up even high, showing even more. His hand, still resting on Shoyo’s side from how they were sleeping, twitches, imagining how it would feel to push the cloth up.

How it would feel to touch his warm skin, body so relaxed with sleep…going higher, and higher, until…

“You can,” Atsumu whispers under his breath, pushing up into Shoyo with that slow thrust.

Tobio looks back up, studying first Shoyo's face and then the part of Atsumu that he can see. The spiker is definitely still asleep, his breathing is slow. Atsumu looks smug. Infuriatingly smug. Like he can read Tobio’s thoughts and fantasies.

Tobio doesn't dare move. Atsumu and Shoyo might have some sort of arrangement, but Shoyo and Tobio have never talked about…this, about touching him when he wasn't even conscious.

Atsumu sighs, grinding up against Shoyo one last time, really dragging it out, maintaining eye contact while he does it.

Jesus Christ. What must that feel like? To have someone who trusts you enough to use their body while they sleep?

The hand braced against Shoyo’s chest slides down the length of his body, brushing ever so gently along the fabric. The fingers play for a moment with the hem of the shirt that Tobio had just been fantasizing about. Then they pass the threshold, grazing over Shoyo’s pale thighs. They trace lazy circles, sliding closer and closer to the skin along his inner leg.

Shoyo twitches, the light touch must be ticklish. Atsumu stops, waiting patiently for Shoyo’s breathing to regulate again.

Tobio’s heart pounds in his chest, eyes flicking between the hand and Shoyo's relaxed face. Atsumu starts trailing his fingers along the curve of Shoyo’s thigh, up towards - fuck - up towards where the shirt just covers his bottom.

His fingers catches on the hem, pulling it upwards just a few centimeters, just to the point where Tobio can start to see where it starts to transition - Atsumu drops the edge of the shirt, his fingers hovering over Shoyo’s skin.

Tobio’s mouth feels dry as he watches Atsumu, waiting for the chance to keep watching him touch Shoyo.

God, he's dying just for the opportunity to watch someone touch his spiker.

Atsumu's hand surprises him, fingers sliding over Tobio’s own hand, before carefully taking him and moving Tobio’s hand down to Shoyo's thigh.

A moment of held breath, and then his fingertips are being dragged over Shoyo’s bare skin. Surely…Atsumu wouldn't…do this if it wasn't okay, right?

Atsumu brings his fingertips to the upper edge of the shirt. Tobio’s heart is pounding in his ears, watching another man move his fingers to touch Sho.

Tobio’s fingers twitch, he doesn't dare move on his own though. It feels intense to try and hold back when he's so close. He can't even believe how Shoyo felt when he was staying still on his knees, keeping his hands tucked behind his back, even when he finished…

If Shoyo can be that good, Tobio can manage this. Atsumu leads his hand along the edge of the hem, just his fingertips brushing the soft skin. Shoyo’s leg jerks slightly and he sighs. Atsumu doesn't stop this time, and instead finally lets Tobio's start to brush the shirt up higher.

Shoyo’s breathing quickens, other parts of his body starting to shift minutely. He's waking up - if Atsumu doesn't stop…

Atsumu doesn't stop, he doesn't stop at all, he keeps trailing Tobio's hand higher, pushing back the fabric until Tobio’s fingers are running along the curve of Shoyo’s bottom.

Shoyo grunts softly, his head tilting down into the bed, back arching slightly. God, he's fucking beautiful. Tobio could spend hours just exploring every inch of Shoyo. Finding all the places that make him whine, moan…cry.

Shoyo must fall back to sleep because his body goes still. Atsumu drags Tobio up and over the crest of Shoyo’s bottom. Tobio wants to grab, wants to feel the flesh under his palms. God - he thinks about what it would feel like to spank Shoyo, to watch his ass bloom pink in the exact print of Tobio’s hand.

Atsumu hums quietly, as if he can read Tobio’s depraved thoughts. Atsumu puts his palm over Tobio’s hands, flattening it out over Shoyo’s skin. All Tobio would have to do is squeeze…

He barely, just fucking barely holds back. Shoyo is sleeping, he really shouldn't…Atsumu just keeps holding his hand there. Tobio is just starting to puzzle out this behavior when Atsumu spreads his fingers in-between Tobio’s and grabs Shoyo’s ass. The spiker stays still, seemingly undisturbed by the more direct touch.

Perhaps Atsumu feels Shoyo up in his sleep all the time. How much could Atsumu do before Shoyo actually woke up? The thought makes it hard to breathe.

“He won't know,” Atsumu whispers.

Tobio’s jaw clenches, watching how Atsumu's fingers still dig into Shoyo’s bottom. No…it's one thing to touch him, but…for some reason that feels like it's crossing a line…at least until Shoyo tells him it's okay. He can't be another person who takes advantage of the spiker. He can't be another person who doesn't prioritize him.

Atsumu senses his discomfort and releases his hand. “Still a Goody Two-shoes, huh?”

The taunt makes Tobio’s face flush.

“That's okay,” Atsumu says under his breath, tracing his own fingers up and over the curve of Shoyo’s ass, “He likes you that way. He likes that you're proper like that. You do things the right way. Don't you?”

Atsumu's fingers disappear behind Shoyo, still brushing along his ass. Oh god. Is Atsumu going to…touch Shoyo there?

“Tobio,” Atsumu chastises, “I asked you a question. Do you always do things the right way?”

Tobio glances up from where he had been watching Atsumu's wrist, imagining those long fingers dragging along Shoyo’s crack, brushing against where he is so sensitive.

When his eyes connect with Atsumu’s, he melts a little. Oh. Atsumu is working him up. Tobio’s never felt seduced before, but fuck, it's like Atsumu is roasting him alive. Too slowly to feely realize the danger he is in.

“I try to,” he responds.

Atsumu holds the eye contact a moment longer before he goes back to focusing on Shoyo.

“The thing about good boys,” he says under his breath, “is that they are always holding back a beast.”

Atsumu's hand grabs Shoyo more roughly, his fingertips sinking into the relaxed muscle, “It has been a delight finding Shoyo’s beast. Learning all the things he wants done to him. Finding and giving him all the things so he can feel complete.”

Tobio swallows, not particularly liking where this seems to be going.

“What would you want, if you let the beast have control? What would you take?”

A shiver goes up Tobio’s spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It's too close to home, especially with Shoyo’s defenseless body unconscious in front of him.

What would Tobio take? If he stopped holding back the wall of want? Tobio would never…of course…he'd never…he watches Atsumu’s fingers graze up and down Shoyo's legs.

Tobio notices that Shoyo’s skin also has goosebumps everywhere Atsumu is touching.

“Would you want to take him just like this?”

A part of Tobio wants to scream no, no he would never, but something else stirs in his stomach. The idea of climbing onto Shoyo, holding him down by his neck, so that he can't get up when he wakes up.

The burn of shame pushes against the desire. That's the beast, Tobio realizes. There is something there, something that wants things…things Tobio would never do, but he still wants them.

“I know you won't, I wouldn't have let you in here if I thought you would.”

Tobio swallows and glances up at Atsumu's face. Is that true? Atsumu trusts Tobio…it should have been obvious. Like he said, Atsumu wouldn't have let him in here if he didn't. Still, the realization is new. Atsumu trusts Tobio, enough to let him be with Shoyo when he's this vulnerable.

“You won't, but that doesn't mean you can't think about it. Think about how good he would be under you. How he might fight at first, when he wakes up, but once he knows it's you he would relax.”

The words make Tobio’s brain feel hazy. Would he? Would Shoyo let him? Would Shoyo relax when he learned who it was?

Tobio watches Ataumu’s fingers, back and forth, back and forth…

“How would it feel to know that you don't have to ask? You can take, and he’ll be more than willing to give it to you.”

Tobio’s chest is tight, his heart pounding just below his ribs.

Back and forth, back and forth-

“Isn't that right Shoyo?”

The setter’s fingers keep going back and forth. “You'd let him, if he really wanted it, wouldn't you Shoyo?”

Why- why is Atsumu talking to him?

Tobio breaks the trance and glances up to Shoyo’s sleeping face, but he's not sleeping, his eyes are cracked open and he's looking right back at Tobio. Fuck…how long has he been awake?

Shoyo’s eyes open wider after having been caught. He nods, something vulnerable shining in his round eyes.

“You'd let him take what he needed, wouldn't you?” Atsumu keeps touching the spiker, making Shoyo shiver in the process,”You'd love it, you'd love feeling how badly he needed you.”

Shoyo’s eyes glance to the side, towards Atsumu, but he doesn't turn his head. Tobio notices that Shoyo is breathing heavier now.

“I'd love it,” Shoyo admits.

“I know babydoll,” Atsumu says, tapping the red head’s ass lightly, “Shoyo, darling, we are gonna need ya on your knees.”

Chapter Text

It's hard to get his body to move after spending so long keeping still. Despite being between the two men, he wiggles up and over onto his knees. Listening to Atsumu already has Shoyo somewhat under.

A solid hand pets his side as he settles onto his knees and forearms, his forehead resting against the mattress. It feels good, being positioned like this, knowing that he's just right there for the both of them.

After all the turmoil of yesterday, Shoyo is ready to be used. He wants to let go, let the boys have their way with him, and trust that Atsumu will keep everything safe. He wants to check out mentally, and just become something that feels.

Ataumu’s hand on his side gently pets back and forth.

“Actually Sho, can you get on your back?”

His jaw clenches for a moment, the idea of facing them all feeling like too much. He takes a deep breath. Atsumu has him. It will be okay.

He flips over, keeping his eyes closed while Atsumu gently adjusts his legs. Lips brush his ear, “Do you want to stop?”

Shoyo turns his face towards Atsumu, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

“No, please keep going,” he whispers against Atsumu’s mouth.

Atsumu hums and kisses him back. A hand slides under Shoyo's neck to hold him close. They kiss and Shoyo loses himself in the feeling. Atsumu’s hand under his neck grips harder, and just as the kiss is escalating the setter pulls away.

“Do you need anything sweetheart?”

Shoyo’s heart swells under the gentle tone and pet name. He shakes his head. Atsumu slides his handout from under his neck and caresses Shoyo’s cheek.

“Show me,” Atsumu requests gently. Shoyo pats his shoulder, avoiding the setter's gaze.

“Can you say it for me baby?”

Shoyo swallows, willing his voice to work. It's just a word. His tongue wets his lips. Just one of the many he has as options. Just one.

“Wait,” he says, as surely as he can manage.

Atsumu kisses his cheek, his lips cracked in a smile, “So good baby, so good, God I love hearing you say that.”

Shoyo bites down on his lip, closes his eyes, and turns away, the praise both wonderful and overwhelming. Atsumu keeps kissing him, all the while smiling. He goes down Shoyo’s neck, to the collar of his shirt.

Shoyo can't help but smile under the constant stream of kisses. When he finally opens his eyes, he sees Tobio, sitting there, a weary look on his face while he watches. Shoyo reaches a hand out and gestures for Tobio to come closer.

Maybe it's selfish, but in this moment, Shoyo doesn't care, he wants both of them.

Tobio hesitantly scoots closer but doesn't move to kiss Shoyo. Oh, right, yesterday… Shoyo waves him closer.

You told me you didn't think I was fragile. Prove it.

Tobio brings his knees to Shoyo's bicep. Atsumu pauses kissing Shoyo’s lower neck, quickly glancing between the two of them.

He has that devilish smile when he sits back on his heels. Shoyo’s heart races. That look - Shoyo's about to get lost in whatever happens next.

Atsumu puts a hand on Tobio’s back.

Tobio’s shoulders raise up a fraction at the contact. Atsumu notices, because of course he does. He's Atsumu. Once he’s focused, he’s unstoppable.

“Tobio,” Atsumu drawls, “surely you're not shy now? Not when you had just been fantasizing about having your way with my spiker.”

Shoyo watches in delight as Tobio’s face goes pink. So he was thinking about it. About what he would take. God, Shoyo wishes that Atsumu would have let him keep pretending to sleep, slowly coaxing out Tobio's deepest desires.

Atsumu’s hand travels from Tobio’s back, up and over his shoulder, to his chin. He tilts the dark haired man’s face toward his own.

“If you do this, you have to do as I say.”

Tobio’s jaw clenches.

“I know you can do this,” Atsumu's voice is low and soft, “you can do as I say, fuck my spiker till he cries in pleasure. Yeah?”

Shoyo watches Tobio’s eyes go softer, a bit hazy. It's easy to go pliant under Atsumu. Especially when he talks like that. It's something about the voice mixed with his confidence. Atsumu already knows you can, knows you will. So why fight it?

“Yeah,” Tobio says back, his eyes fixed on Atsumu. The blonde strokes Tobio’s chin with his fingers.

“Ya gonna make him feel so good?”

Tobio nods, all of his focus still on Atsumu.

The blonde leans forwards, moving like he's gonna kiss Tobio, but he doesn't. He stops an inch away, obviously relishing how Tobio’s breath hitches at the proximity.

“You gonna let me make you feel good?” Atsumu's eyes watch Tobio react. The raven haired man’s eyes close. His throat bobs as he swallows. His teeth push into his bottom lip.

“Gonna let yourself be full? Gonna let yourself have both?”

Tobio’s eyes open a fraction. Fuck. He's so far gone. Shoyo’s own body can't help but react to watching Atsumu tease this out of Tobio.

“Yes,” Tobio says quietly, a plea tugged at the solitary word.

“Is that what you want, pretty boy? To have him while I have you?”

Tobio’s body breathes in before he says “yes,” more desperate this time.

“You gonna be my good boy, and listen, and do as I say?”

Tobio’s eyes glance towards Shoyo and he hesitates.

“Oh, yes, we can check with Shoyo,” Atsumu’s grip on Tobio’s face tightens, his mouth still just an inch away from Tobio’s.

“Darling,” Atsumu drawls, “Do you want me to tell Tobio what to do to you?”

Just the words flood Shoyo with that feeling. He feels his brain start to melt away. Oh god. Yes. Please. Have him use me. Tell him exactly how I want to be used.

“Yes,” Shoyo manages to say, his eyes darting between his Dom and the man who is going to fuck him.

“Do you trust me to know the edges?” Atsumu's voice is genuine now.

Shoyo’s chest feels warm. Like something is alive under the skin and ribs.

“Yes,” he says, knowing that it's true. He trusts Atsumu to know the edges.

“You can have us stop anytime.”

“I know,” Shoyo says.

Atsumu closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, “tell me darling.”

“I can stop anytime.”

Atsumu’s shoulders relax a fraction and he opens his eyes again.

Shoyo doesn't know what it feels like to be in Atsumu’s position, to have the control and consequently a profound responsibility. The feeling in Shoyo’s chest grows even warmer. He does trust Atsumu. So much. So unbelievably much. The man has never done anything but show that he has Shoyo’s best interests at heart. Even the times…it went too far, Atsumu was always there. He never left Shoyo to face it alone.

Shoyo doesn't know how to convey the overwhelming trust under his ribs. He doesn't know, in this moment, how to best reassure the man who has always caught him.

Shoyo reaches up and lightly grasps Atsumu's arm. The blonde turns, his grasp on Tobio loosening at the same time.

“Tell me,” Shoyo requests.

Atsumu's lips fall apart before they break into a soft smile.

“I can stop anytime,” Atsumu says.

Shoyo squeezes his arm. The first time Atsumu dropped - Shoyo hadn't even realized that something like that could happen. It looked different than when Shoyo drops. It wasn't physical in the same way. It felt like Atsumu mentally curled inwards, his warmth and confidence blown out like a candle. The energy that always thrummed through the room was gone, leaving an emptiness in its wake.

It was awful.

Atsumu smiles down at him, “Thank you,” he says gently.

Shoyo chews on his upper lip while Atsumu caresses his face, their arms still linked together “did you go and pull yourself out of there just to remind me of that?” Atsumu asks.

Shoyo’s cheeks flush, apparently so. Atsumu’s fingers pet rhymically against his cheek. “You are so good,” Atsumu murmurs, saying each word carefully. His fingers trace through Shoyo’s hair, “I've got you now,” he says, letting his fingers run along Shoyo's lips, “you can let go, I've got you.”

Atsumu's thumb presses on his bottom lip. Just that slight gesture pushes on Shoyo’s brain, submerging him into submission. He lets himself go, looking up at his setter, who in turns looks down on him with something so similar to amazement in his eyes.

Shoyo lets his mouth relax open, inviting Atsumu’s thumb to enter. Atsumu brushes against his front teeth, loitering at the entrance. Shoyo's shoulders push downward. He wants more. He wants Atsumu to use his mouth.

“That's it baby, let go, just like that.”

Shoyo breaths out, his body relaxing under Atsumu. The natural barrier of staying conscious and aware melting away. Atsumu continues to play with his bottom lip, his eyes following the movement, “So perfect,” he whispers.

Shoyo’s eyes try to flutter shut but he forces himself to keep them open. He wants to see.

“He’s ready for you Tobio,” Atsumu pulls his hand away but let's Shoyo keep clinging to his arm. “He's so sweet like this,” Atsumu says and Shoyo feels like he's melting into the bed.

Please, please, Atsumu please.

“Are you ready to listen?” Atsumu asks, keeping his eyes locked with Shoyo’s. It's an intense kind of intimacy, to hold each other like this.

“Yes,” Tobio says breathlessly. Shoyo can't bring himself to glance over, but just from the sound alone it seems Tobio is not unaffected by Atsumu.

Shoyo is losing himself in the haze. It feels so good. His fingers loosen and fall away from Atsumu's arm. It's to the point where there are not really words in Shoyo’s head. Just feelings. Just sensations. Just him.

…

“He's just so good like this.”

Both of the setters are focused on the spiker laying between them. Shoyo’s chest rises and falls steadily, his face so relaxed and pink.

Something burns in Tobio's stomach. It feels like need. Watching Shoyo lay there, so blissed out under their attention. It feels like Tobio’s body is responding to what Shoyo is giving. Shoyo is giving permission, showing his consent, giving them his relaxed and willing body. Tobio wants…to take, to use, to connect.

“Do you feel it?” Atsumu asks, not breaking eye contact with Shoyo, “Do you feel how badly he wants it?”

Atsumu takes in a deep breath, “When he's like this, it's hard not to, it feels like something about him forces you to meet his needs.”

“Fuck,” Atsumu breathes out, “There is a part of me that wants to kick you out and have him to myself.”

Tobio swallows, and makes himself look at Atsumu. His gaze is so focused on the spiker. Hunger so clear in his eyes.

Atsumu's head tilts back, “But he wants this, wants you,” he lets that hang in the air for a moment.

“Get between his legs,” the firmness in his voice surprises Tobio. He jolts, and finds that his body is all too eager to comply.

Shoyo raises up his knees, spreading them apart to make room for Tobio. Just the T-shirt covering his torso, this position…Tobio finds himself between a pair of thick thighs. God these legs.

Did they really used to be scrawny, barely able to fill the practice shorts? Fuck, now look at them. Tobio cups one thigh in each hand, marveling at how they dont even come close to wrapping around half.

His hands are snatched away and twisted behind his back. Hard enough to ache but not actually injure. Tobio realizes that Atsumu has placed himself directly behind Tobio. His wrists are held together by one of Atsumu's hands, the other hand pulls on his hair until he tilts his head back.

Tobio could get out. He could get out of this if he wanted to. It's a sinking realization that he doesn't want to.

“Did I say you could touch his perfect thighs?” Atsumu’s voice taunts in his ear, twisting his wrists a bit more at the same time.

“No,” Tobio gasps out, his scalp stinging from Atsumu's grip.

Atsumu grips his hair even harder, “Don't touch him without permission.” The sensation brings tears to Tobio’s eyes. His head and hands are released at the same time, resulting in his jolting forwards.

He finds Shoyo’s eyes on him. Watching. Watching Tobio be dominated. Watching Tobio be put in his place. For you, I'm doing this for you, Tobio tells himself.

It's not true though. Not fully. Yes he's here for Shoyo. But this…feeling, it's not just Shoyo. It's also Atsumu.

Chapter Text

Tobio’s hair is softer than you'd think. It doesn't match the personality that he puts forth into the world. But, like this, it suits him. Like this he's soft, and pliable. Moldable. Good.

Atsumu loosens his grip, such satisfaction flowing through his body when Tobio stays put. God. Atsumu could spend days taking this boy apart. His eyes unfocus for a second and he glances down to Tobio’s wrists, still wrapped in his grip. Fuck. He's not struggling at all.

He's a powerhouse. Fucking unstoppable on the court and in his career. And he's just…letting himself be held here. Letting himself…giving himself over to Atsumu.

Atsumu fully releases Tobio hair and slides his hand around Tobio’s throat, until he's holding the man’s jaw. He can feel the setter’s pulse under his fingertips.

Atsumu’s fingers itch with the desire to squeeze, to tilt Tobio’s head back until he's fully resting against Atsumu.

Shoyo shifts and catches Atsumu’s attention. His eyes focus on the red head. Shoyo’s eyes a lowly lidded, that beautiful, perfect hazy look in his eyes. Energy swirls in Atsumu’s stomach. God.

He loves Shoyo. He loves being this for Shoyo. He honestly can't even describe how incredible it feels to be this for Shoyo.

“Look at him,” the words leave his mouth, right into Tobio’s ear, “Fuck, look at him.”

Shoyo's eyes close and his head tilts to the side. His cheeks bloom pink. Atsumu knows that it can sometimes feel like too much. But he can't help telling Shoyo how perfect he is. He needs Shoyo to know. He needs Shoyo to understand.

“Let us see you,” Atsumu says softly.

Shoyo's jaw clenches before he turns back towards the setters. His cheeks are still warm with embarrassment.

Fuck, he's so perfect. He's so fucking perfect. Atsumu catches Shoyo's eye and gestures with his head, “Let us see you, darling.”

Shoyo understands. He swallows and grasps the edge of the T-shirt. It feels like everything is moving in half speed as Shoyo pulls the garment up and over his stomach. He arches his back to free the cloth from between him and the bed.

Atsumu wets his lips as Shoyo’s chest comes into view, the borrowed shirt rising higher until it collects around the spiker’s collarbone. Shoyo keeps his hands there, tentatively grasping the hem while he looks between the two setters.

Atsumu smirks, almost positive that Tobio looks just as fucked out as Atsumu feels.

“Touch yourself for us princess, touch your chest.”

Tobio goes limp, his spine seemingly losing all ability to stay firm. Atsumu keeps holding onto Tobio’s wrists as they both watch Shoyo's tentative hands lower to graze along his nipples.

Tobio groans deep in his throat. Atsumu can feel it through his fingers. He grips tighter, letting Tobio feel the strength in his hand without cutting off his air.

“Just like that, make them nice and hard,” Shoyo squirms but keeps touching himself. His eyes are closed, likely overwhelmed by the idea of both of them just watching.

“I love feeling his nipples get hard in my mouth,” Atsumu breathes into Tobio’s ear, “love feeling his back arch up into my face for more.”

Tobio groans, a pathetic, needy sound. Perfect. Just perfect. Atsumu keeps a steady hold on Tobio’s wrists, keeping them locked behind his back. He tilts his head until his lips are against the setter’s neck.

“Sometimes if the gym is too cold they get hard under his shirt,” he lets his lips move against Tobio’s throat, “did that ever happen in highschool?”

Tobio swallows under Atsumu's hand. God, what a perfect fucking feeling. Atsumu keeps his eyes on Shoyo who keeps gently playing with the hardened nubs.

The spiker’s chest flexes up into his own hands. Atsumu squeezes a fraction around the setter's throat, “Did you ever stare?”

“Yes.”

Atsumu melts. Tobio used the version of ‘yes’ reserved for responding to those superior to you. Fuck. The word catches Shoyo’s attention too, his eyelashes flutter open. God, he's so fucked out. His pupils blown wide, sweet rosy cheeks, his body thrumming with need and want.

Atsumu’s teeth itch to bite down on the soft skin under his lips. He has both of them. He's drunk on the feeling of having both men under his influence.

“Do you want him to show you how he likes it?”

Tobio’s breath comes out in a huff, like all the air was forced suddenly out of his lungs.

Atsumu pulls his lips up to Tobio’s ear, absolutely relishing the way the setter leans into the touch.

“Tell him,” Atsumu's breathes out, hopefully quiet enough for Shoyo to remain unaware, “Tell him to pinch himself.”

Tobio breathes in sharply.

“Tell him,” Atsumu says more firmly.

“Sho,” Tobio says breathlessly. The spiker looks up, eyes so hazy and beautiful.

“Pinch them for me.”

Shoyo’s shoulder push down into the mattress as he adjusts his fingers to a grasping position.

The spiker takes in a shaking inhale, “both?” he asks. Tobio doesn't know how utterly sensitive Shoyo’s nipples are. How doing both at the same time is a surefire way to drop right into subspace. The pain, the overwhelm of it all, doing as he is told…

“Both,” Tobio confirms.

A moment later Shoyo is groaning, the tips of his nipples bright pink between his pinched fingers. He holds that tension, pulling them upwards ever so slightly, his breath a quick staccato. It's beautiful.

“Harder,” Atsumu whispers into Tobio’s ear.

“Harder,” Tobio echos louder.

Shoyo whines, turning his face away towards the bed, as he pulls harder upwards, the little numb of flesh poking out between his finger and thumb shifting to a deeper red color.

His arms and his hands shake. Atsumu knows it's so much effort, an almost unbearable amount of effort to hold them like this. To keep them pinched so tightly while also pulling up. Shoyo's face scrunches up, caught between pain and bliss. A bliss caused by the on purpose pain.

“Tell him how good he looks,” Atsumu mouths at Tobio’s ear, able to feel how Tobio’s arms tense as he processes the words.

Tobio takes in a breath, all too willing to comply. Atsumu uses the opportunity to slide his fingertips down from Tobio's throat. He lets the pads of his fingers trace around one of Tobio's nipples.

Atsumu watches Shoyo’s eyes follow the movement. He watches Shoyo tongue press against his bottom lip. He feels how Tobio reacts, flinching at first and then leaning into the touch.

That's it, good boy. “Tell him,” Atsumu says, his lips brushing against the shell of Tobio’s ear as he lightly grasps the quickly hardening nipple.

“You're perfect,” it comes out like a gasp as Tobio uses all the air left in his lungs. Atsumu rolls the perked nipple between his fingers.

“You've always been perfect,” Shoyo absolutely melts into the bed, his neck stretching out, his eyes barely open but definitely focused on Tobio. Shoyo's hands start to go slack, letting his poor nipples relax a bit.

“Oh, look at how desperate he is for you to touch him.”

Such a pathetic whimper sound comes out of Tobio. It's fucking perfect. Atsumu pinches a little harder.

“You can see how desperate he is?” Atsumu asks.

Tobio nods slowly. Oh, he's under. Even if not deeply, he's under. It's an intense satisfaction in Atsumu's stomach as he gears up for what he says next.

“Beg.”

Tobio’s chest caves in a little as all the air rushes out of his lungs. Atsumu knows this won't come easily - it's not the setter's natural inclination to bend like this. He knows the dark haired man can do it. Because it's Shoyo he’d be begging to touch, he'll do it.

“Beg for me to let you.”

He gives Tobio a moment to process, idly playing with his nipples, not tugging or being rough, just playing.

Tobio’s voice starts as a rough whisper, “I want to touch him.”

Atsumu hums, his fingers continuing.

“I want to make him feel good. So good,”

“Say it,” Atsumu whispers in his ear.

Tobio takes in a shaking breath, his wrists twisting slightly in Atsumu's hold.

“Please,” he pauses, taking another breath, “please let me.”

Atsumu is tempted to tease him, to ask for more - instead he remains silent, curious to see what the strong, stoic setter will do for the privilege of touching Shoyo.

Tobio's next breath is ragged, his body sagging back.

“Please Atsumu-”

Fuck. Tobio really sounds like he's about to break. Should Atsumu push? See what is behind that barrier?

“Please what?”

The pain and frustration of the moment is radiating out of Tobio. Break. Just push past that wall, let it all go, let yourself be needy. Let me hear what you need.

“Atsu, please let me touch him, I'll be so good- please-” the last word is whispered.

“Where?” Atsumu breathes out against Tobio’s neck. He feels goosebumps where his lips trace over skin.

Tobio hesitates, his jaw working up and down without speaking. Atsumu doesn't dare breathe.

“Anywhere you tell me.”

Atsumu’s body overrides his brain, he kisses along Tobio’s throat and releases his wrist, “Good boy, oh, my good boy.”

Tobio’s arms flex once his hands are free but he doesn't move them from behind his back. That alone drives Atsumu on further. He kisses up to Tobio’s ear, cherishing the way Tobio gasps out.

“My good boy,” Atsumu whispers into Tobio’s skin. The setter whines and whispers, “Please, Atsu-”

Ah yes, what Tobio was actually begging for.

“His throat, touch his throat while he plays with himself.”

Tobio hesitates, his body tight like a livewire.

“Touch him,” Atsumu encourages, pressing gently on Tobio’s back.

The setter finally moves on his own and reverently puts his fingers around Shoyo’s throat. It's a glorious sight. Atsumu has only ever seen it from his own point of view, but here he can see someone else’s strong arms reach down to hold Shoyo by the throat.

Fuck. Shoyo arches his back, further presenting his neck to the both of them.

Tobio’s fingers loosely spread around the curve of the spiker’s neck. Atsumu places his hands on Tobio’s hips, putting his face right alongside Tobio’s.

“He likes a bit of pressure on the sides,” Atsumu raises his hands up, lightly wrapping them around Tobio’s neck, “like this,” he squeezes. He goes lighter than Shoyo actually likes, unsure of how Tobio would respond to that level of intensity. It took a lot of research and titrated practice to get to the intensity they use today. He wouldn't let Tobio do that to Shoyo…not yet.

Atsumu pays attention to how Tobio goes slack in his hands under the pressure. Atsumu releases the tension and puts his hands back onto Tobio’s hips.

“Try it,” Atuamu prompts, watching intently over Tobio’s shoulder. The dark haired setter’s arms flex as his fingers tighten around little Shoyo’s throat.

The spiker moans and his eyes close as his fingers continue to tug on his own nipples. Fuck he's doing beautifully, Shoyo is very much still able to breathe but the pressure is pushing him deep. Atsumu takes the opportunity to slide his hands over Tobio’s ass, his brain electric as he watches Shoyo moan and writhe.

He keeps his face right next to Tobio’s as he lets one hand go further underneath, tracing along Tobio’s inner thigh.

“You're going to have to open him up,” Atsumu murmurs, his fingers closer to that exact spot on Tobio.

“I'm going to show you what to do,” Atsumu teases along Tobio’s crack, absolutely thriving as he feels the other setter’s body shake against his.

“I know you'll be good and listen.”

Tobio nods.

“I'll show you first, let you feel what to do.”

Atsumu dips his fingers in against Tobio’s entrance.

“Will you be able to focus? If I work you open at the same time?”

Tobio pauses before he nods again.

Atsumu smiles, knowing just how to ruffle Tobio’s competitive edge.

“Because, if you can't make him feel good enough,” he tilts his mouth to be right against Tobio’s ear, “Then I'll have to do him myself.”

Chapter Text

Shoyo tries. He really tries to keep his eyes focused, or frankly, keep them from closing entirely.

Even when his vision blurs, he is still so tuned in, just in a completely different way. Where his vision lapses, everything else heightens.

In this moment, it's how Tobio sounds. His body warm above Shoyo, panting whines and breaths raining down onto Shoyo. Shoyo, who can't even keep his eyes open.

He drinks in every breathy sound. Shoyo is overwhelmed. It's never been like this before. There's never been another - never been anyone but Atsumu.

Lightning zaps race down his spine as Tobio lurches forwards, a pitiful, desperate ‘please’ falling from his lips.

Shoyo can't give Tobio what he wants. Which Shoyo is pretty sure is Atsumu 's cock, instead of his teasing fingers.

Shoyo knows what it feels like though - to be so deep your pride is so long lost. To chase pleasure over anything else.

It's…God, Shoyo truly can't even think of an adjective that actually describes it. To describe how it feels to watch your Dom, methodically break down somebody like Tobio.

To watch his highschool setter be reduced to whimpered pleas.

“Please,” Tobio asks again, more sure this time.

“What? Is this not enough for you?” Atsumu somehow has mastered the balance of cruelty and pity. It's a dynamic that constantly keeps Shoyo spinning. Relishing praise, just to fall to knees a moment later to earn it.

At first it really did feel like he was doing it to earn more. To be deserving. There was fear behind the action. Fear of failure. Fear of falling short. Of not being good enough. Of not being lovable enough. Of being unwan-

“Stop,” the word hangs in the air, several men’s breath the remaining noise.

Tobio shakes slightly above Shoyo.

“Shoyo?”

Oh,

Shoyo blinks, noticing finally that there are tears. The drops are pushed down the side of his face.

Tobio pants, his body seemingly unsteady.

Shoyo used to feel like he had to earn Atsumu 's attention. It used to feel that way.

It stopped feeling like that. Well, it mostly stopped. And in its wake something new started to grow. The desire to do it. For Shoyo. The desire to be good, and feel good, for himself.

He started to let himself trust himself.

He reaches up and brushes Tobio 's sweaty bangs.

It was always going to be you, he thinks. He wishes he could find the words to make Tobio understand.

I want you. Whatever it is that makes you up, I want it.

The memory of whispered “pleases” plays in Shoyo’s mind. His own, overlaid with Tobio’s desperate words, and Atsumu 's calm, even voice, so sincere.

“When did he start crying?” That calm even voice is here now.

“Just a moment before I said stop,” Tobio replies.

Shoyo knows he's good. Knows he tries his best. Knows that the people who are important to him know that, also believe that.

He knows that the times people let him down, or looked down on him, was more a reflection of them, than it ever was him.

Tobio didn't leave because he didn't want Shoyo. Tobio left because something was hurting inside of him. It wasn't that Shoyo hadn't been good enough. It was something Tobio needed to heal.

Shoyo feels his lips turn up into a smile. He opens his eyes to the two men above him.

Shoyo thinks about how Atsumu helped him grow. How he poured love and patience into Shoyo, never expecting anything but friendship back.

Atsumu 's concerned eyes stay on him.

Shoyo 's hand reaches up to cup Atsumu 's face, currently alongside Tobio’s.

Atsumu has always loved Shoyo, just for being himself. He always wanted Shoyo to be honest, to speak his truth. He didn't want a diluted or palatable Shoyo. He just wanted…me.

More tears flow down Shoyo 's cheeks, tracking uncomfortably close to his ears.

“Thank you,” the sound chokes out of him.

It etches worry deeper into Atsumu 's face.

Shoyo huffs out half of a laugh. Atsumu is worried. Shoyo tries to shake his head. Atsumu doesn't need to be worried. Shoyo isn't upset.

Words beyond thank you seem far too complicated. Too far away.

“Thank you, Atsu,”

Shoyo thinks he sees the beginning of tears in his setter's eyes. Oh, Shoyo didn't mean to make him cry.

“Sho, what is happening?” Atsumu quickly wipes at his eyes, his other hand still preoccupied with Tobio.

Ridiculous. Ridiculous to be doing this in the middle of sex. Although, to be honest, how was it going to happen any other way?

You brought me here, to a place where I could finally do this, have this. A place where I can keep Tobio.

These words float across his mind. The construction of their sound too daunting. So they stayed trapped in Sho’s mind, as his thumb sweeps lovingly against Atsumu 's cheek.

What he does manage to say is, “You're doing good.”

Atsumu freezes for a moment. Shoyo almost never reassures him like this unless a scene is over.

A few stray tears do fall from Atsumu 's cheeks.

Shoyo thinks he might be seeing a side of Atsumu that is new. Not new, but new to Shoyo.

Would Atsumu ever want to…?

“You're so good,” Atsumu says in response, bringing Shoyo back to the moment.

Shoyo smiles. Words that once would have stung to hear, now just feel true.

Shoyo wishes he had the brain in power to actually say everything that is so true to his mind right now. He wishes he could tell Tobio to never again waste time not saying what he wants. He wishes he could tell Atsumu that he is good too, just for being himself. And that if he ever did let go of control, he still would be good.

He wishes he could capture this moment. This certainly in his mind that he is good. That even if people disagree, that even if people treat him like less, he chooses to know the truth.

I am good. I am good, just for being me.

He knows, when the sub high fades, and his brain comes back online, it will all shift back to normal. He'll still have the knowledge he gains at this moment. But it won't feel this true. It won't feel like an indisputable fact.

Even when he messes up. Even when he fails. He is good. He is good enough. He will always have himself. Always.

He glanced at Tobio. I will fight to keep you. I will fight to keep you by my side. I choose to have you.

But the only person he is ever guaranteed to have, is himself.

Which kind of makes the fact that he chooses to love someone unpredictable, really fucking scary. Brave, but oh so scary.

It's worth it. Whatever happens. Whatever pain the future holds, it's worth it.

Shoyo settles back into his spot under both men.

He prays to God that neither of them demand that he gives the other up. I want both of you. I'm going to fight to keep both of you.

“You better get a move on Atsu, otherwise I'm going to have to do it for you.”

He watches Tobio’s eyes nearly bug out of his head while Atsumu simply closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“You scared me there,” Atsumu admits.

“All good things, I'm green,” Shoyo says.

Atsumu adjusts behind Tobio, “you know, your flashbacks and ‘spiritual enlightenment’s could look a bit more different. It's stressful to not know which it is.”

Shoyo hums while he smirks, “yeah I'll work on that.”

Atsumu’s eyes flash to him, “watch it darling,” he drawls.

“Wait, are we seriously continuing?” Tobio tries to pivot to look behind himself at Atsumu.

The blonde puts a hand on his shoulder, blocking him from turning.

“Yes, Sho confirmed that it wasn't a flashback and that he's green.”

When Tobio is quiet for a moment Atsumu adds, “You're welcome to watch if you are no longer…able.”

Tobio looks ready to growl, his eyebrows narrowing. And just like that, the two setters will have to battle it out again. Shoyo knows how it will end. With Atsumu fucking Tobio, who barely has the presence of mind to control his movements and fuck Shoyo. So Atsumu will set the pace for the both of them.

And what a glorious pace that will be.

Chapter Text

It's like whiplash. First Shoyo was crying, then thanking Atsumu, and now he's wiggling his ass right against Tobio’s groin.

Atsumu’s drawls in his ear. His low velvety voice shoots down Tobio’s back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“Look at how he wants you.”

I can't, Tobio thinks. He can't. If he does look, he's gonna melt. He's barely hanging on. He thinks about how it felt before Shoyo started to cry. Tobio had been…begging.

His face feels warm as he remembers. He had been barely able to get the words out. The word, ‘Please.’

He swallows, head tipping back as Atsumu’s lips find his neck. Fuck, this man is going to be the death of him. All the while Shoyo pushes his ass against Tobio, leaving absolutely no room for thinking.

Atsumu trusted Shoyo. Trusted his ‘green’.

Can Tobio trust Atsumu's assessment?

His gut says yes. He has only seen Atsumu handle Shoyo with the utmost respect and care, even if some of it is degrading.

He yearns to feel it again. Whatever it was that made him beg. Made him beg mindlessly. Made him beg for Atsumu to do more, for Atsumu to let Tobio touch Shoyo, for anything. For everything.

“Breathe,” Atsumu murmurs in his ear. Tobio inhales on instinct. It's a tad disturbing how his body just listened.

“What is your color?” Atsumu asks.

Shoyo goes still.

Tobio swallows. In the absence of Shoyo’s squirming Tobio can manage to patch together enough energy to think. A little.

“Green,” he sighs, the excitement of the words bubbling under his skin.

“Tell me what you want,” Atsumu's tone doesn't leave much room. It's a demand.

Tobio feels the two parts of himself tug in either direction. The part that wants control and the part that wants to let go. Tobio is not sure he can tip the scales towards letting go.

Warm skin brushes against one his hands which is firmly planted against the bed. Shoyo nuzzles his face into the hand until it curls open to cup his face. Shoyo looks so…content. Like he's exactly where he belongs.

The desire in Tobio grows. Shoyo starts to absently kiss against the palm of Tobio’s hand. Tobio wants it. He wants to be there with Shoyo. He wants to let go.

“Help me get there,” Tobio says, petting his fingers along Shoyo’s face and then through his hair.

“There?” Atsumu asks. He knows. Tobio knows Atsumu knows what he means.

“Help me let go,” Tobio clarifies.

“You want to be good like him?” Atsumu asks.

Tobio finds himself nodding.

“You only can come when I give you permission,” Atsumu brushes his lips against the shell of Tobio’s ear, “that's how you can be my good boy.”

Tobio:

-Atsumu's mouth - his hands - his tongue - fu-fuck - his dick - it doesn't stop. Atsumu is always touching him somewhere. His skin burning hot against Tobio.

Sturdy hands adjust his hips, spreading his thighs apart ever so slightly. Tobio swallows against the anticipation. One hand slides over his hip bone towards where he is aching.

Light fingers grasp around his base, applying just enough pressure to tilt him upwards.

“Go get in your place,”

Shoyo:

The back of his neck tingles as he processes the words. He glanced up at Atsumu who gestures to the spot underneath Tobio.

The warmth and tingles spreads down his spine, intensifying as it reaches his lower back. Atsumu always somehow knows exactly what Shoyo wants. Even when Shoyo doesn't know what he wants. In this deep to the dynamic, It somehow feels like there is a dialogue between them, even with not a single word spoken aloud.

Like some part of Shoyo is silently telling Atsumu what Shoyo needs, even when his own brain can't figure it out.

On his hands and knees he shifts closer to Tobio. The man looks wrecked. The sharpness of his usual expression fully faded away.

What a beautiful sight.

Shoyo lowers his head and pushes his shoulder into the bed. From there he wraps his arms partially around Tobio and brings his mouth to the upper crease of Tobio’s thighs.

Atsumu is gonna fuck them both. Like this. Shoyo just getting the barest taste. And Tobio just getting friction along his underside. It's perfect. Teasing them both while Atsumu gets to fuck something warm and wet.

Shoyo startles as something brushes against his cheek. He tries to glance far enough back to see without moving.

He sighs out as he realizes. Atsumu had been holding Tobio’s dick back so Shoyo could get positioned. Now Tobio is laying across Shoyo’s face. It's warm. Hard. Just pressing down on his cheek. God….is Tobio going to leak? Drop precum right onto Shoyo’s face.

Just the thought alone. It feels like his body is on fire. Fuck.

Even if he holds it in, there is only so many times a man can come…probably.

He licks along Tobio’s legs to distract himself. He feels the men above him adjust slightly.

His breath has nowhere to go. Each exhale heats up the air and Shoyo feels his skin prickle with the warmth. He fights the urge to pull back and get fresh air. He needs to stay put, it's where Atsumu told him to be, and he's not too warm yet. He can handle it.

Fingers brush into his hair, drawing his attention.

“Ready sweetheart?”

Shoyo nods, eyes staying closed. The gentle fingers pull away. The anticipation has been brewing inside of Shoyo. Every moment spent with his face tucked under Tobio like this, - each fucking one feels like an eternity.

It's hard not to mouth at what is just already right there.

Tobio had tensed when Shoyo first crawled under him, slotting his face right up against the setter’s balls. Every once in a while Tobio twitches, reminding both men where exactly Shoyo is, and what exactly is about to happen.

It's hard to wait. It's especially hard to wait with the knowledge that all Shoyo is going to get is the chance to lick and suck at the tip of Atsumu's dick.

Just the part that peeks out when he fucks Tobio’s thighs from behind. It's so little. It's not enough.

Shoyo feels the whine building in his throat. Why won't anybody just fuck him already? Hasn't he been good? Don't they want him?

He forces the thoughts back. He is good. Atsumu thinks he's good. Knows he's good. This is what Atsumu wants. This is to help guide Tobio down too.

It's for Tobio. The mental shift dispels all of the anxiety. This activity is for Tobio. To get him ready. To tease him into submission.

Shoyo lets his mouth wander for a moment, brushing his lips against the skin all along his cheek.

Tobio moans, his legs shaking slightly.

It's tempting. It's so fucking tempting. Just the thought of putting one of Tobio balls in his mouth has Shoyo clenching around nothing. He feels his lower half wiggle automatically, trying to find something, fucking anything, to go inside of him.

Just as he's about to let his tongue pass his lips he hears Atsumu's warning

“Shoyo,” that single word, just a hair’s width from patronizing.

Shoyo puts his mouth back where it belongs, at the seam of Tobio’s closed thighs. Just below where Tobio actually wants to be touched.

He waits. He sits patiently and waits.

…

Tobio:

Atsumu is hard. Fucking hard. Just brushing up against him as he adjusts Tobio’s hips. It's almost enough to draw his attention away from how his own dick lays across Shoyo's cheek. It's enough to come from. Honestly. And something about forcibly holding back makes his body heat up even faster. Atsumu’s lips, kissing and sucking on the back of his neck doesn't help either.

Knowing that he can't finish…turns him on. Shoyo's mouth brushes against his balls. Tobio’s eyes shut involuntarily. He's gonna come. His arms and fingers flex-the urge to push Shoyo away. Because if Shoyo keeps going - he swallows back the moan that pushed at his throat.

Atsumu chooses this moment to bite down onto Tobio’s back. Tobio arches, both compelled and repelled by the pain. He wants to get close just as much as his body longs to escape the pain.

He locks his throat, not wanting to give away how much it is affecting him.

If Atsumu realizes he's this close…what will he do? Stop? Make him calm down? Pull Shoyo away? The very thing that Tobio is tempted to do. Because - God it's fucking hard to think - Shoyo's tongue. He can't hold back the moan any longer. His back arches as Shoyo’s mouth shifts higher, up to the base of his-

“Shoyo,”

The lips mouthing at Tobio freeze, and then retreat back to the crease of Tobio’s uppermost thigh.

He swallows, letting his breathing return to normal.

…

Atsumu:

He's so hard he's not sure if he's going to be able to handle the friction. There is lube, of course, he can't go rubbing their rival team's setter raw.

Still, Atsumu has been hard for fucking ages. He's pretty sure he could finish from the lightest touch. He can't, he has to draw this out, use this orgasm as an opportunity to get both men ready.

Atsumu nuzzles his cheek into the hollow of Tobio’s neck. The dark haired setter has been on his knees for a minute while Atsumu collects his resolve to not orgasm immediately.

Atsumu kisses the skin absently, paying attention to how Tobio responds. Sometimes when he’s in this state it doesn't even feel like he is choosing what to do next. The next action just happens. All of his focus goes toward the man, now men, he is in control of.

He's attuned. To every sound, every shift, every breath. He barely feels himself kiss and then bite the neck under his mouth. He fucking feels how Tobio reacts though. Everything Tobio does is seared into Atsumu’s brain. The blonde bites down a little harder.

Tobio flinches involuntarily. That's okay, his body is allowed to react. It's a reflex, triggered by enduring pain in the bedroom. The body will jump. What Tobio does next will show Atsumu what to do next.

It doesn't feel like making choices. It feels like following the sub. Like hearing their desires and wishes through urges and moving towards what they need. It feels like following, and assessing, and flowing-

Tobio tenses, pulling forwards slightly, away from the pain. How far will he pull? Will his brain take or fight the pain?

A gasp is ripped out of Tobio’s throat, followed by an undeserved moan.

Naughty little spiker.

Atsumu releases his jaw and simply says Shoyo’s name. He knows Shoyo will understand the warning and intent.

Tobio doesn't continue to moan, instead just panting quietly.

It's a crossroads. Atsumu feels his brain sober up a little. Checks. Do checks before moving on.

His hands run up and down Tobio's waist. The sobering moments are always a little weird. He knows though, once he has his answers, he will fall right back into that beautiful space. The space where he follows his sub right off a cliff.

He reaches down to pet Shoyo's hair, loving how it feels between his fingers.

“Color, love?”

Shoyo adjusts himself just enough to clearly say “Green,” before reassuming his position.

Atsamu swallows, “Color, Tobio?”

The setter exhales, “Green,”. Atsumu hums thoughtfully, letting the answers sink into his brain, dispelling the anxieties and fears. He mindlessly kisses at the crook of Tobio’s neck.

“Yours?”

The question stops him, his mouth pressed against Tobio’s skin. He really, really hadn't been expecting Tobio to throw the question back at him. He smiles, giving another set of kisses up along Tobio’s throat up towards his ear.

“Green,” he says quietly, just for Tobio to hear. “Are you ready to submit to me?”

Tobio nods as he takes a deep breath.

“Good boy,”

…

God, now that he's started, it's hard to imagine stopping. At least not until he finishes. All over Shoyo’s pretty lips, and in-between Tobio’s tight legs.

Atsumu knows there is more he wants to do, more he needs to save energy for. A certain dark setter who he promised to fuck. But God he can't fathom all that right now. Not when Tobio is clenching his thighs together, lightly thrusting his hips to move with Atsumu. Not when Shoyo's hot tongue relentlessly works over the top of Atsumu's dick.

His fingers dig into Tobio’s hips, pulling him back onto Atsumu's cock. He cuts back the growl that tries to push its way up his throat. Fuck- Atsumu feels the orgasm start to build in his abdomen. He lets himself pull Tobio back against him, their bodies pressed tight. He immediately feels Shoyo’s wet tongue and lips against his cock head.

Shoyo has made him finish like this before. Just from paying attention to the sensitive tip. God. Atsumu can't quite help the shaky breath he releases as he keeps Tobio held close to him.

…

Atsumu’s forearm drags up to brace against Tobio’s stomach and chest. The blonde setter’s breathing has been escalating in Tobio’s ear. The change is subtle, but definitely there.

Atsumu’s other arm raises higher, his hand coming to rest along Tobio’s jaw and upper neck. Keeping him held in place. All the while, Shoyo’s mouth keeps moving.

“How does it feel?” Atsumu’s voice is hushed in his ear. It still carries a strong edge, but there is just the hint of a waver.

Atsumu’s affected. Finally. Tobio feels himself smile at the realization.

“It feels like you're gonna cum,” Tobio says, keeping his voice as even as possible.

Atsumu clicks his tongue and strengthens his grip on Tobio’s jaw and throat.

“Aren't ya cocky?” There is a touch of exasperation in the blonde’s voice.

Atsumu flexes and brings Tobio’s head backwards, forcing him to bend his spine to keep the position. Tobio is surprised at how the small motions sends thrill and need through his body.

Atsumu applies just a touch more pressure on his throat. Not enough to do anything but heighten the sensation. Thoughts and desires flood through Tobio’s mind.

Break me - make me - take what you want - make me beg -

“Shoyo,” Atsumu says louder, breaking into Tobio’s inner thoughts.

“Can you show dear Tobio what he's been missing?”

Tobio blinks down at Shoyo as he maneuvers out from under him. It's hard not to groan as Shoyo’s face slides against the underside of his dick. The red head looks absolutely fucked out of his mind, eyes hazy as he looks up at Tobio. His mouth remains slightly ajar as he sits back on his heels, leveling his face with Tobio’s aching erection.

Atsumu's words start to sink in. Shoyo is going to use his mouth on Tobio.

“Doesn't he look perfect?” Atsumu asks, resting his chin on Tobio’s shoulder.

Fuck. He really does.

Chapter Text

“Yes,” Tobio responds. Shoyo looks fucking perfect. Blissed out, his tongue wetting his pink lips.

“You're going to watch him,” Atsumu breathes by his ear, “you're not going to move.”

Tobio swallows, anticipation running wild in stomach, “and you're not going to come.”

Tobio’s breath rushes out of him. Fuck. Right…He can't finish without Atsumu’s permission. Not if he wants…

“Okay,” Tobio hates how unsteady his voice already is. Shoyo’s beautiful brown eyes are on him.

“Go on baby, you've been wanting this haven't you?”

Shoyo’s eyes close and he nods.

“You're going to have to tell us if you get close,” Atsumu’s mouth hasn't left Tobio’s shoulder and neck. His arms are still braced across Tobio’s body and jaw.

“Can you do that, darling?” Atsumu holds him tighter and kisses up to the nape of his neck. It sends goosebumps down Tobio’s body. Tobio watches Shoyo tongue at his bottom lip.

“I can,” he whispers. He's not at all sure he can. But fuck does he want to try.

Tobio watches Shoyo glance to his left, to where Atsumu is.

“Do your worst Shoyo,” Atsumu smirks and goes back to kissing Tobio’s neck.

Shoyo smiles and brings his lips down to meet Tobio. It evokes an immediate gasp inwards. Fuck - after only getting brushing, accidental touches - its so fucking much. To see Shoyo, his Shoyo, pursing his lips to kiss the very tip.

Tobio pushes his head back, against Atsumu.

“Keep your eyes on him,” the hand on his jaw holds firm.

It feels like he can't. Watching, really watching Shoyo, so fucking blissed out, just take his fucking time, kissing all over the head of Tobio. Shoyo’s eyes flutter open as he lets his tongue out to lick directly across.

Tobio hears himself - the noises he's making - are fucking obscene. It sounds like he's on the verge of tears, the gasping, hiccuping breaths gives everything away.

“Tell him,” Atsumu murmurs from where he has been watching on Tobio’s shoulder.

Tobio whines, high and needy.

“Tell him how good it feels,” it feels impossible. There is no way he can make words work. Not when - “fuck, Sho!” Tobio’s hips flex without his permission, seeking more of that hot and wet mouth.

It really feels like a dream, Shoyo below him, the tip of his cock in his spiker’s mouth. Able to feel everything the red-heads tongue is doing inside. Moving along the sides, and then directly over the tip. It's so fucking sensitive.

“I'm gonna-” Tobio chokes out and Atsumu uses his arm braced along Tobio’s stomach to yank him back. His cock pops out of Shoyo’s mouth. Shoyo’s lips are shiny with spit.

“Not yet,” Atsumu mocks gently.

It really does feel like he could cry. Like there is just too much feeling built up inside of him. It has to come out somehow.

Tobio works on getting his breathing back under control and focuses on pushing the edge of his orgasm away. Once he is breathing just through his nose Atsumu loosens his hold and lets him move back forwards.

Shoyo doesn't waste a moment, he is back on Tobio, sucking on just the tip. Shoyo’s tongue flicks over and around inside his mouth. Tobio gives a short cry and tilts his head back against Atsumu’s shoulder. The hand that had been holding his jaw comes up to grip his hair, forcing his gaze back down.

“Watch,” Atsumu says more sternly. Tobio forces his eyes open.

Tobio bites down on his bottom lip, and watches. Shoyo bobs his head, never taking more than the tip. It feels so fucking good. Tobio can't even imagine- well apparently his hips can, they jerk awkwardly in Atsumu’s hold. God - what would it fucking feel like to press all the way inside? To fuck into Shoyo’s warm, wet mouth. To watch his eyes tear up, never once looking away?

Tobio’s hair stings as he fights the urge to move forwards. He can imagine his fingers threading into that orange hair. Imagine how it would feel to dictate his spikers movements. To make him go deeper, harder, faster -

His body twitches, wanting, needing more, needing control, needing to be able to move things forwards.

Shoyo pops off, moaning lightly as he looks at the spit covered cock head. He purses his lips and goes back to kissing.

Fuck. Fuck. Tobio’s legs shake. Please. Fucking please. His lungs fill and empty quickly. When Shoyo just keeps giving little kisses Tobio whimpers. He feels Atsumu hold onto him tighter.

He’s stuck here. Stuck while he's forced to endure whatever the other two men give him. If he goes outside of the bounds, if he cums, if he moves, if he tears his eyes away from Shoyo’s beautiful lips, it could all be over.

He really, really doesn't want it to be over.

Shoyo starts licking again, making a show of letting the tip of his tongue play with the slit.

It really does feel like he might cry.

Shoyo does manage to wiggle the tip of his tongue into the slit. It's so, fucking, sensitive. He wants his fingers in Shoyo’s hair so badly. So fucking badly.

Shoyo glances up from his work and drags the lightest edge of his teeth over the rim of the head, continuing up until he reaches the very tip.

“Please,” Tobio whispers, his whole abdomen tensing and shaking.

Shoyo keeps the eye contact and licks over the slit.

At this point Tobio doesn't even know what he wants. More. Just more.

“It's so good,” his voice cracks with the effort.

“It's so good,” he says again, this time closer to a whimper.

Shoyo takes Tobio back into his mouth and moans.

Tobio’s body reacts before he can stop it, his hips jerk forwards only to be forced back by Atsumu’s arm.

He bites back the sound his body wants to make.

“Please don't stop,” it's building. He knows he isn't allowed to. But fuck, it feels so good. How Shoyo uses his tongue inside of his mouth.

Shouo closes his eyes and starts sucking in earnest. The pressure is unreal. His body shakes involuntarily.

“Clo-close” he yelps out as the feeling starts to overtake him. Atsumu once again pulls him away and Tobio does wail.

Everything is sensation. It's all too much. He can't even think. He pulls against the fist holding his hair and tries to turn towards Atsumu. The setter relaxes his grip and Tobio presses his face against the man.

Tobio is breathing harshly. He can feel Shoyo’s breath on his spit-covered cock. His hips give little jerks towards the sensation.

“Tell me when you're close,” Atsumu reminds him gently. Tobio nods, thankful he's no longer being made to watch. It's so much. Everything is so much.

“Just kiss and lick the tip sweetie,”

Tobio whimpers and curls further into Atsumu. He can't take it. He can't do it. He must have started shaking his head because Atsumu is stroking his hair, saying, “Yes you can, I've got you,”.

Shoyo resumes, starting again with such light touches and kisses.

Tobio presses his face into Atsumu's, “I can't,” he gasps out.

“Shhhh, shhh,” Atsumu reassures, “just tell me when you're close, that's your only job”

Atsumu braces both arms and hands against Tobio’s body, holding him tightly in place. It's good, because Tobio is definitely reaching a place where he can't control himself.

Shoyo scrapes his teeth along the oversensitive skin and Tobio jerks forwards. Atsumu holds him right in place. The pressure holding him back - it's freeing. He stops trying to hold still and lets himself go. The strong man behind him keeps him from moving.

Something about the pressure holding him back, holding him still, heightens everything else. He's close, he's really fucking close.

“Close-” he forces himself to say, knowing full well that Atsumu is about to rip him back and away from Shoyo’s mouth.

“Let me see it,” Atsumu says back, sending Tobio’s thoughts into a scatter. Shoyo is still licking at his tip, teasing the slit, licking up and down the sides.

Tobio can't hold on. He can't force the orgasm back any longer. It's going to happen. Words choke in his throat, the overwhelming sensations drowning out everything.

“Let me watch you cum on his face,”

Shoyo moans and doesn't stop.

Tobio's hands hang uselessly by his sides. His legs shake and jerk. He cracks his eyes open to the sight of Shoyo worshiping the tip of his cock.

“Cum on him,” Atsumu says, clear as day, releasing the orgasm ban.

Shoyo’s eyes flit open, his mouth never stopping. The urgency fills Tobio’s abdomen, climbing up his chest into his throat.

He's gonna cum on Shoyo’s face. As if Shoyo can sense the shift he sits back, just an inch from Tobio’s dick, and closes his eyes, mouth open, tongue presented.

It's too fucking much. “Ah, Ah, Ah,” Tobio vocalizes as his dick jerks by itself in midair, seeking the stimulation it needs to finish.

Atsumu lowers his right hand and grasps Tobio around the shaft. The sudden sensation there has the setter reeling. He chokes out noises he's never fucking heard himself make before and fucks into Atsumu’s hand.

It's too much- he keeps his eyes trained on Shoyo’s open and presented mouth. It takes everything in him to keep his eyes open. He's not breathing, the air locked in his chest, broken, choked off sounds leaving his mouth, as the first shot of white lands on Shoyo’s lips.

Atsumu grips Tobio’s shaft tighter and directs the next one right onto Shoyo’s tongue. The first one is already dripping down, past his lips and onto his chin.

Atsumu starts pumping his fist up and down Tobio’s cock. It makes his body jerk and twist, both seeking more and trying to escape the sensation. His frantic movements cause his cock to bob and he lands another stripe along Shoyo’s cheek.

Atsumu doesn't stop, “ple-I- can- T - ahh, ahh, ahh, wai-” a few drops fall from his overstimulated cock and land onto Shoyo’s hands below.

“This is what you wanted isn't it?” Atsumu purrs in his ear, “You wanted to finish?”

Tobio can't even fathom responding, as Atsumu’s hand continues to grip him and move. Its dry, its almost fucking painful.

“You're gonna cum again,” Atsumu says. It just doesn't make sense. Tobio’s head thrashes from side to side. He can't. He just can't, not just after the first. He can't.

Atsumu shoves a leg between Tobio's, spreading them slightly. Atsumu releases the arm that had been around his waist the entire time and reaches below Tobio to grasp his balls.

Tobio feels like a puppet dangling from strings. Without Atsumu holding him in place, he feels adrift.

“Focus on stopping it here, let yourself orgasm, but flex here” Atsumu instructs, pinching up under his dick.

Atsumu keeps his hand there, applying pressure to the spot. Then Shoyo’s mouth is on him again, sucking a softening dick into his mouth.

There are tears in his eyes now. It's too much. He's gonna break. He's gonna - he shakes his head, fully perplexed by how he's getting hard again. No, no, no, he can't. Atsumu slows down his hand, “you can safe-word out at any time,” there is a beat where everyone slows down. The words sink in.

“You can tell me to stop. We'll both stop.”

That's…that's not what Tobio wants.

He jerks his hips into Atsumu’s grip, “do’n wanta’ Tobio says, his brain fully fuzzy, “I'll be good,”

“Yes you will darling,” Atsumu says back and kisses his cheek.

Something warm blooms in Tobio’s chest. His body keeps moving into Atsumu's hand.

“You've already been so good,” Atsumu kisses his cheek again, “you're my good boy Tobio,” Tobio breathes out harshly in response.

“Let me take care of you,” Atsumu says, so earnestly that it pushes into Tobio’s fuzzy brain.

“I'll safeword,” Tobio says, trying to show that he understands.

“Good boy,” Atsumu purrs, his hand picking up speed again, “my good boy.”

Somehow, some-fucking-how, an orgasm is building again. It doesn't feel full and encompassing like the last one. This one feels sharp. Forced. Tobio absently realizes that he's pretty sure this is called overstimulation. And apparently, he's into it.

They have him. Atsumu has him. He lets his body sink back into the man behind him and he lets Atsumu and Shoyo do what they want with his body. Atsumu’s hand still idly touches and applies pressure to that spot below his dick.

His body starts to twitch and jerk uncontrollably. Atsumu and Shoyo just continue. It reaches a point where it's almost peaceful. He's just for them to play with. He doesn't need to control anything other than safe wording out.

His eyes open to the sight of Shoyo, cum nearly dried to his face, sucking on the tip of Tobio’s dick like he truly loves doing it.

And that's what sends him over the edge. His body goes stiff, all muscles taunt. Atsumu abruptly applies more pressure to that spot under his dick.

“Just ride it as long as you can baby,” Atsumu coaches in his ear. Tobio doesn't understand the words, until his orgasm doesn't end. It doesn't end like normal anyways. It rolls, like waves. Like an endless pull back and forth. A volley that doesn't ever hit the ground. He lets the forces push and pull him back and forth. It's blissful. So blissful.

“That's it baby,”

Tobio feels the energy leave his body and he slumps back, each of his muscles drained. His head is spinning, residual sensations spiking through him. What the ever loving fuck was that?

“Did he do it?” Atsumu asks.

“He did,” Shoyo says brightly.

Did? What? From where he is slumped, he glances up at Atsumu now above him. What the fuck just happened?

Fingers card through his hair. It's so foggy. Tobio has never felt so sated.

“I accidentally went a little far,” Atsumu says, continuing to pet Tobio.

“Well, your one weakness is a brat,” Shoyo says back.

Atsumu sighs, “he really came dry?”

“What, do you wanna check my mouth or something?” Shoyo quips back.

“No, we both know you swallow.”

Shoyo scoffs. There is plastic rustling, Shoyo quietly says thank you, and then his warm body is all up along the backside of Tobio, who apparently started to lay down at some point. Arms wrap around him. Fingers continue to pet his head.

Tobio, truly, has never felt more content.

Chapter Text

Tobio awakes with his face firmly planted against skin. He struggles out of the drowsy state and tries to make sense of his surroundings. He panics for a singular second when he realizes that he is against a bare chest.

Atsumu. The edging….fuck… the overstim. He breathes out. That had been intense.

He breathes in deeply, surprised to find that the gentle smell of the man in front of him is somehow comforting. The presence behind him must be Shoyo. Both Sho and Atsumu are warm. Especially Sho.

He figures it was the overheating and sweat that woke him up. Now though, what keeps him up is hunger. But…he doesn't even really belong here, how does he go about getting food? Plus, despite the heat, he is really reluctant to move from between the two of them.

Tobio kind of can't believe he fell asleep in their arms. He’s…he's never really done that. Well, he certainly hasn't done most of what they have done…but the cuddling seems significant somehow. Tobio let's very few people in. Somehow, Atsumu really got in.

Tobio cringes at that line of thinking. Atsumu was literally in afterall. He presses his cheek against the chest in front of him. Tobio really doesn't want this to end.

He tries to run through everything. There are large swaths where he barely remembers. He remembers the big idea, some sensations, but so much of it is lost or confused. It bothers him. What if…his stomach drops. Fuck. What if it wasn't good? What if…the quickness of the tears takes Tobio by surprise. He was just fine, and now he's holding back a sob.

He bites down on his lip. This is ridiculous. He cannot let the others wake up to him sobbing. Yet…his body decides for him. Tears leak from his eyes as he strains to keep everything else still. He doesn't breathe, or move, or let himself make any noise.

Eventually though, he has to breathe. He can't take it slowly, it rips through him and with it more tears. He makes a noise. It's pathetic.

It must wake somebody because Tobio is pulled close and peppered with soft kisses.

“Breathe,” Shoyo's voice whispers in his ear. Tobio’s body curls in on itself. He wishes he could escape. He wishes he could run. He wishes he were alone to endure this.

Shoyo's hand pushes at Atsumu’s arm, “Atsu, wake up,”

“Mmm,” Atsumu vocalizes, as he awakes.

No, no, no, this is even worse. Tobio can't stop the tears but he desperately holds onto the need to stay quiet. Just be quiet.

“Hey,” Atsumu says gently, his hands moving to cup the back of Tobio’s shaking head, “hey, I need you to breathe with me, you can keep crying, but we need that brain to have oxygen.”

Tobio barely hears. It's all too much. Why are they here? Just leave him alone. They don't want him. Why are they here?

Fingers lightly drum on the back of his head, and Atsumu takes an exaggerated breath, holds it a moment and releases it loudly.

Atsumu does it enough times in a row that Tobio’s body starts to follow suit. With the rhythmic tapping and regular breathing, his crying slows. Some of his breaths are still punctuated with hiccups, but he's able to breathe.

“We wanted that,” Shoyo says into his shoulder. The words break something in Tobio.

It's not true. What he's saying cannot be true. How could they want that? Tobio didn't do anything. It feels like he's frozen. The tears leak but no sounds come out of him. Inside of him feels…dead, rotten, wrong.

Atsumu’s broad hand cups the back of his head and pulls him close to his chest.

No, no, no…

Tobio shakes his head, they need to let him go. He can't stay here, he can't stay feeling like this.

“It gets easier,” Atsumu’s voice reverberated through his chest into Tobio’s face.

“It gets easier to accept it all. That people want you.”

Atsumu’s fingers brush through his hair lightly. He still feels frozen.

“It's okay to feel it,” Atsumu says quietly, “We aren't going anywhere, we will be here for you.”

Tobio feels Shoyo’s smaller hands hold tightly into him. Why? Why do they want him? Why would they do all of that - and now this for him? Why bother? Why would they want that? Want him?

He thinks about how he came on Shoyo’s face…in his mouth. It had felt so good and right in the moment, but now - his body forces him to sob. He treated Shoyo so badly.

It sounds like a wounded and scared animal is hiding in Tobio’s throat.

Atsumu keeps petting his head. Shoyo keeps holding onto him tightly.

…

It's so hard to hear. Shoyo has never been on this side of things before. It was always him breaking down. It was always him being forced to endure the patience and love that is Atsumu’s aftercare.

Tobio’s body shakes as he cries. It sounds like a part of him is dying. He's seen Tobio cry so many times - it's never been like this. Like Tobio was breaking on the inside.

Shoyo has no clue if it will help or hurt, but it feels impossible to do nothing. He starts gently, tapping on either side of Tobio’s body. It's not perfect since they are laying down, but it's something. It's something Shoyo can do.

There is so much Shoyo wishes he could express. I wanted it. I wanted all of that. He presses his forehead into Tobio’s back and thinks it as hard as he can. ‘I want you. I want you. Please understand how much I want you.’

He’ll tell Tobio for real, when the man is ready to hear it.

…

It's not surprising that Tobio dropped upon waking up by himself. What is surprising is how much it affects Atsumu.

When Shoyo drops, it makes sense that his brain latches on, focusing solely on making sure that his teammate is okay.

To Atsumu, Tobio should effectively be nobody. He's the man his teammate and bedroom partner loves, and has loved since highschool. So why is his heart aching over his inability to make it better?

Without thinking he brings his lips to Tobio’s forehead. It's not really a kiss…but it is. He wants to hold the man’s head close to him and force Tobio’s brain to understand that it's okay. That he did nothing wrong. That everything was wanted and if there was something that Tobio didn't like, that is okay. He'll never have to do it again.

Atsumu breathes in deeply, still trying to model it for Tobio’s body. But at this point it's also for himself. He feels the doubt in the back of his mind. The fear. The shame.

You weren't a good Dom. You didn't assess right. You didn't provide the right aftercare. You let him down. You let them both down. You hurt him.

Atsumu forces another steady breath. He can't let himself fall into the doubts. Not now. Later. When he's alone. Later.

The thoughts are unrelenting. His next breath shudders. No. Later. Not now. Focus. Focus on Tobio.

Dread starts to squirm in his stomach. Dread that all he did was harm the man in his arms. Atsumu is running out of time.

He uses his hand in Tobio’s hair to have him look up. Atsumu is starting to feel like an animal in a cage. He knows it's his responsibility to care for those who were vulnerable. He knows it's what is right. But he's running out of time where he has access to his real brian.

“Tobio,” he says quietly, intently watching the pinched face in front of him. Tobio is in so much pain.

“I'm sorry to ask this of you, but can you please try to tell me what your brain is saying?”

Tobio’s breath shudders. He keeps his eyes firmly shut. He gives the tiniest shake of his head.

‘Bad Dom, bad Dom, bad bad bad Dom’ chants in the background of Atsumu’s mind. He tries to push it as far away as he can, his own throat tightening with the desire to cry.

“Can you nod when I'm close to what you're thinking?” His voice hitches, giving away his fragile state, “please,” he adds as he waits for Tobio to respond.

The rival setter nods.

“I made you do something you didn't want to do,” the words fly out of Atsumu. He holds his breath as he waits. While the fear waits for confirmation of Atsumu’s deep insecurity.

Tobio shakes his head. Atsumu breathes out carefully. Okay…okay…

Atsumu kisses Tobio’s forehead again, “thank you, the answers help,” he whispers into the skin.

“Does a part of you hurt physically?”

Tobio shakes his head.

Thank goodness. Atsumu kisses him again. The dread in his stomach starts to ease up.

Those are always the first ones he asks, because if one is a yes, it totally changes how the aftercare of a drop needs to go.

“Thank you,” he says, his thumb gently rubbing Tobio’s cheek and jaw.

“You're doing so good,” he whispers.

Tobio physically recoils and turns his face away. It's true, Tobio is doing so well. Atsumu isn't sure what kind of war is panning out inside of the setter, but from the outside he can tell it's a beast.

Atsumu takes a moment to run through the remaining possibilities. Sometimes people drop physically, the chemicals in their body and mind suddenly shift and it brings the system crashing down. Sometimes, like with Shoyo, there is always a mental component. The voice in the sub’s head. It can say some of the cruelest and most pointedly devistating things.

Knowing what he does about Tobio, what is that voice making him hear? What mental torment is making Tobio cry like this?

“You didn't hurt him,” Atsumu says, watching Tobio’s reaction carefully. The man curls in on himself, his whole body shaking. Atsumu’s heart aches, oh baby, “You didn't hurt him,” Atsumu says again, taking the other setter fully in his arms and holding him.

“I was keeping an eye on him the whole time. It was your job to let go, and you did so beautifully hun,” Atsumu really holds Tobio to him, enveloping the man as he cries, “You made him feel so good, you gave him everything he wanted.”

Tobio whines from where he is buried into Atsumu. “You were so perfect, fuck Ive never seen Shoyo that blissed out before.”

Tobio grips his arm hard. “I didn't do anything,” he chokes out.

Oh baby- Atsumu coaxes Tobio out from against his chest, and gently holds his cheek.

“You did,” he says quietly, wiping some of the tears off of Tobio’s face, “you really did.”

“Letting go like that isn't easy, and it's not nothing. You’d never say that about Shoyo.”

Tobio keeps his eyes shut but his bottom lip trembles.

Atsumu watches his face. The tears, the quiet hiccuping breaths, the way he shakes with the effort of holding it all inside.

Atsumu’s stomach twists in a new way. He's going to lose Shoyo. He's going to lose Shoyo to Tobio. Maybe not all at once. But it will happen. It bites more than Atsumu thought it would.

“Tobio,” he says gently, “you have to let go.”

Finally Tobio’s eyes open, they are bloodshot and full of more unshed tears.

“Let go of the fear that you're not what he wants.”

Tobio’s eyebrows furrow. The reaction makes Atsumu smile, all the while his heart aches.

“Shoyo is pretty sure of himself, always has been, yeah?”

Tobio’s jaw sets.

“Trust him,” Atsumu holds Tobio’s face in place and keeps the eye contact, “Trust that he wants you.”

Atsumu can feel the muscles in Tobio’s jaw clench tight.

“Let go,” Atsumu whispers.

Atsumu watches Tobio’s eyes refill with new tears until he looks away. Atsumu can feel the shift in Tobio’s body and energy. Atsumu lets go of Tobio’s face, giving one last sweep of his thumb over Tobio’s cheek.

“Shoyo, can you come around front?” Atsumu pushed down the ache in his chest. “I'm gonna let’ya have some time, I'll get food.”

Shoyo nimbly climbs over Tobio’s body and assumes Atsumu’s spot. Atsumu sits back and watches Shoyo wrap his arms around Tobio and hold him close.

“I'll just be down the hall, love” Atsumu says as Shoyo gets settled.

“Thank you Atsu,” Shoyo says glancing over his shoulder to look directly at him, “thank you.”

“Of course,” Atsumu holds back the urge to pet Shoyo’s head or kiss his cheek. He climbs off the bed, to the sound of Shoyo whispering quietly to Tobio.

It feels wrong, but he makes himself leave the room. Once his back is against the closed door he lets the tears fall. A hand pressed to his mouth to ensure that he is quiet.

Shoyo was never his. But fuck he didn't think it would hurt this much.

…

Atsumu is startled when two arms wrap around his waist. He had been absentmindedly pushing things around in a pan for a few minutes. He can't quite get the ache in his chest to dispel.

“Hey,” Shoyo says gently. They stand there, Shoyo resting his head against Atsumu’s back, “When are we going to take care of you?”

Atsumu closes his eyes, “I don't think I need anything, I’m really-”

“Atsu,” Shoyo interrupts. The somber tone of his voice does make Atsumu shut up.

“You dommed for several sessions in a row, and I could tell his drop got to you.”

Atsumu turns off the stove and rotates in Shoyo’s grasp to wrap his arms around the spiker. He should have known he wasn't going to get away with no aftercare. He tips his head to rest on top of Shoyo’s.

“How is he doing?”

“He's okay, still kind of out of it, but the time together helped. He's showering now.”

Atsumu hums and kisses the top of Shoyo’s head.

“What got to you about his drop?”

Atsumu breathes out in frustration. He doesn't really want to talk about it. Which means he needs to.

“Will you help me finish the food while we talk?” Shoyo nods and steps back. He looks up into Atsumu’s eyes with unnerving clarity. Like he already knows exactly what got to Atsumu about the drop.

“Here,” Atsumu says, turning away from the intensity, “this needs ta’ be chopped” Shoyo saddles in beside him, keeping their shoulders in contact as they each work. It makes it a little hard to keep cooking, but Atsumu is also thankful for the contact.

“It was the usual doubts,” Atsumu keeps his eyes in the reheating pan, “That I didn't take good enough care, or I went too far- you know, the usual.”

“I'm glad he was able to answer your questions,” Shoyo says.

“Yeah,” Atsumu nods.

“Atsu,” Shoyo says, leaning slightly into where their shoulders are connected, “What is still hurting you?”

His throat tightens. You. Losing you. Losing you but still having to see you everyday at work. Until we retire and then, you'll just be gone.

“M’probly just tired.” It's not even a good lie.

Shoyo puts down the knife and looks up at him. Atsumu can't help but look back.

“Please don't shut me out,” Shoyo says it so earnestly it hurts.

How can he say it? How can he explain how his heart has been slowly breaking for the past hour? How can he explain how sad he is?

“Have you and Tobio really talked yet?”

Shoyo’s head tilts a little as he thinks, “about…?”

Atsumu’s throat is tight, he glances back at the pan and moves the food around on the heat, “about the future and-” he swallows past the lump in his throat, “-and all that.”

Shoyo is quiet. Atsumu just keeps stirring.

Shoyo takes his hand, puts the spoon down and turns him to face the spiker.

Shoyo’s mouth opens and closes without a word, like he's searching for the right ones.

“You're not-” he shakes his head and starts again, “I'm not gonna drop you, you know that right?”

The lump in Atsumu’s throat grows. Shoyo says that now, but in a few months once he's had some real time with Tobio…

“I-” Shoyo’s voice cracks, “I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like I need you too, if that's- if that's something you want.”

Atsumu truly isn't sure how to respond- to be frank he's not fully sure what Shoyo is asking.

Shoyo puts his free hand into his hair, “I mean, I know it's unconventional, and like, not really accepted. We wouldn't have to tell people if you- God I mean, that's if you even want - I just, I can't really deal with losing you, or him, and I - god is sounds so fucking selfish, but I want you, and I understand if thats not, I don't know, like okay with you, but, I really don't want to lose you. Fuck,” Shoyo drops Atsumu’s hand and buries his face into his own. “I don't fucking know,” he says into his hands. Shouo’s shoulder hunch up, the tell tale sign that he's crying, “please don't make me choose between you.”

“Oh baby,” relief floods through Atsumu as he folds the spiker into his arms. “No, I wouldn't, not unless he hurts you.”

Shoyo chuckles through the tears, his voice muffled by Atsumu’s body, “he better not.”

“He’d better not,” Atsumu echos, glancing over to see that the food is absolutely burnt.

Cooking was ambitious anyway. He turns off the stove and pushes the pan off the burner. He goes back to holding Shoyo who quietly cries in his arms. No, I won't make you choose, Atsumu thinks. Because deep down, he really just wants Shoyo to feel loved. And Tobio really does love him. And…maybe Atsumu will love Tobio.

Shoyo's back shakes under Atsumu’s hands. Sho pulls far enough out of the hug for Atsumu to hear him laughing, “Jesus, we really burned that huh?”

Shoyo glances over to the pan and laughs harder, “Christ,” he faceplants into Atsumu’s chest, still laughing.

“I wouldn't even feed that to Bokuto. Are you sure your brother is a chef?”

Atsumu laughs aloud and holds Shoyo closer. Takeout it is then. Take out for 3.

Chapter Text

They find Tobio in the bedroom, scrolling on his phone. He glances up to meet their eyes before quickly looking back down to his phone. Shoyo climbs onto the bed, placing the crinkling bag of delivered takeout in front of the setter.

He then climbs around the back of Tobio to hold him from behind, peppering kisses along his naked shoulder.

It still stings a little - but not as much. Shoyo has never once lied to him. Atsumu settles on the bed, and lays out the plates. When Shoyo showers after eating Atsumu’ll strip the bed, reset it and then shower himself.

He starts to open the various containers, hoping at least one of them entices Tobio to eat. It all smells amazing. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. Apparently they are already well into the afternoon.

He can't help how his mouth waters as he starts portioning some out for himself. Sometimes he doesn't realize he's hungry, or tired, or overstimulated. It's something that's hard about the headspace domming puts him in. It's easy to let his own needs, especially the bodily ones, fall to the wayside.

There was once - he had his hand contorted to be able to reach Shoyo and keep going, and he didn't even realize till after that he had seriously over extended a muscle in his forearm. He didn't at all feel the pain until Shoyo was curled up against him nearly asleep.

Sometimes it's that you physically don't feel it. Sometimes it's that you mentally don't pay attention to it. Sometimes it's both.

He glances up at Shoyo, still kissing Tobio’s shoulder. His spiker must be hungry. It's a fact. He scans the containers of food and pushes one towards Tobio, “this is the one Sho picked.”

Tobio nods and starts mechanically putting it onto a plate. Atsumu bites his inner cheek as he watches. Once the food is ready Shoyo adjusts so that he can physically eat while still being practically glued to his setter.

The spikers moans at the first mouthful and Atsumu smiles.

“Oh Tobio, you've got to try this,” and just like that, Shoyo has gotten Tobio to eat. Atsumu lets himself start next. Fuck, post sex food is always so fucking good.

They eat quietly, except for Shoyo's comments as he tries everything.

Atsumu can't help but watch Shoyo eat. Luckily the spiker is pretty used to it and just continues on as normal. Sweat has dried his longer hair into funny positions on his head. He wonders if Shoyo will cut his hair soon.

He reaches out and runs his fingers through the orange hair trying to settle it. “Oh, is it bad?” Shoyo asks, his own hand coming up to feel it.

“It's perfect,” Atsumu says, still trying to squash a lock that refuses to lie down properly.”

Tobio turns and scans the situation, “it's pretty bad,” he deadpans.

After a beat Shoyo is laughing and nuzzling his face into Tobio’s neck, “I missed you.”

Tobio stiffens for a moment, before quietly saying, “I missed you too.”

Hmmm, maybe these two need a little more time. “I'm gonna hop in the shower. When I'm done I was gonna change the sheets so don't worry about getting food on ‘em”

He leans in to kiss Shoyo’s cheek. He leaves his lips there for a moment, his fingers curling into the long hair at the nape of his neck, before leaning back to climb off the bed completely.

Shower, reset bed, then…well…Atsumu is sure they will figure it out.

…

He's got a few electrolyte drinks under his arm, along with a new set of bed linens. He manages to turn the door handle without everything coming out of his grasp.

And fuck. He just stands in the doorway for a second taking in the scene. Shoyo, kneeling, legs spread on either side of Tobio’s hips, hovering over top of Tobio. Atsumu quickly glances around and locates the food, neatly put to the side, and not on the bed. He goes back to watching Shoyo and Tobio kiss. Their movements are slow, each angling their heads together to connect deeper. Tobio has his hands on the bed, but every few seconds they twitch like he wants to be touching Sho.

Atsumu knows how easy it is to get lost on Shoyo's lips. Shoyo moans and shifts his body forwards, further crowding into Tobio.

Menaces. Both of them. Atsumu shifts the bedding under his free arm and tosses the bottles onto the bed. Shoyo glances at them and groans. Not the sexy fun groan either.

“You know the drill,” Atsumu says, watching Shoyo sit back into Tobio’s thighs, “if you're gonna go round-to-round like this you gotta hydrate.” He steps to the edge of the bed and gives Shoyo a peck on the lips, “And just think of how good it's going to feel to get fucked on a clean bed.”

The words add intensity to Shoyo’s gaze. Atsumu smiles, loving the reaction.

Atsumu glances down to Tobio, letting his gaze linger momentarily on where the man is hard in his shorts. He looks back to Shoyo.

“Shoyo, drink up, then shower.”

Shoyo starts to whine, and Atsumu silences him with his own kiss and says, “You can be quick.”

Shoyo knows there isn't a way around this. Especially hydrating. He picks up the bottle, tilting both it and his mouth upwards. He drinks, not taking time to breathe, just swallowing again and again…and again. Fuck…Atsumu watches his adam’s apple bob. He never should have taught Sho how to shotgun.

The spiker brings the empty bottle away from his mouth with a gasp and hands it to Atsumu. A nearly smug smile on his face.

“Thank you love,” Atsumu forces his voice to stay gentle, even though he sees the very edges of a part of Shoyo he loves.

“Just a shower then?” Shoyo asks coyly.

“Just get nice and clean for us to ruin you again.”

Shoyo remains unshaken by the comment and hums gently before he says,

“We’ll see.” Shoyo hops off of Tobio’s thighs and heads out of the room.

Holy fuck. Once Atsumu hears the bathroom door close he exhales. He's so fucked.

Tobio sits up, “do you need help with-”

Atsumu holds up a hand, “I-hold on, I need a sec.” If Shoyo maintains this after his shower…they really are all fucked.

Atsumu passes the next bottle over to Tobio and picks up the last for himself. If it does go that way, he really will need the hydration.

Tobio helps him strip and reset the bedding.

With all of the tasks out of the way, he and Tobio are left to wait. So much for a quick shower.

Atsumu sits down and starts stretching. Might as well, he works on his arms and shoulders first, all the while feeling the anxious presence of Tobio behind him.

“What hard no’s do you have?” Really he should have asked this sooner. All the times Shoyo and him talked about inviting Tobio in, somehow they didn't expect it to result in back-to-back sessions, each one more intense than the last.

It's time they hash some of this out, especially if everything they do from now on is working on building trust in a long term Sub/Dom relationship. That thought makes Atsumu’s stomach flip. Somehow, he would up in a poly relationship…with Tobio fucking Kagyama of all people.

Exactly as fucking tall as him…definitely as fucking strong as him. His rival…let Atsumu…hold him back like an animal…because he was trying to thrust into Shoyo’s pretty mouth.

That man, this fucking man, let Atsumu strip him down to his core. The understanding makes Atsumu’s mouth feel dry.

Tobio’s hesitant voice brings Atsumu back to reality. To the question he had just asked.

“Um, I cant- I don't want to hurt him, physically.”

Atsumu lays back onto the bed, arms bent to place his hands under his head. He closes his eyes, “You can say ‘can’t’ you know,” Atsumu asserts, “if ya can’t you can’t. If you can and don’t wanna, that's also fine. You can say what it is, no need for sugarcoating here.”

“Alright,” Tobio says dryly, “I can't hurt him.”

“What about deny him?”

It's a fair question, no physical hurt is one thing, causing just enough emotional distress to heighten the sensations…that’s another. And Atsumu knows how deeply Shoyo loves it. How he loves to be told no, to be made to wait, to earn the final orgasm.

Pretty early on Shoyo figured out how to finish dry. Purely for the ability to let Atsumu force him to orgasm more times. He learned how to trick his body so he could be better used. Fuck Atsumu is so lucky. He loves his spiker. He loves his opposite hitter. He loves how much of a fucking perfect slut Shoyo can be.

They used Shoyo’s physical ability to truly push him limits. To put him so deep, keeping him in that blissful subbed out state for hours. He can get to places where the orgasms don't stop and he writhes against Atsumu’s fingers endlessly. Like his body was made to feel intense pleasure.

It's fucking incredible, it gives Atsumu such an intense dom high. He can only describe it as feeling like he's truly there. Never more present and attuned than in that headspace. It's euphoric.

Atsumu needs to know if Tobio is green for that kind of emotional distress, like providing edging or overstim, to eventually get the other person into that deep deep place. Will Tobio be able to hear Shoyo beg and keep denying him? Will he be able to hear the choked whines and desperate pleas? And say, ‘No, baby, no you can't.’

Just thinking about it is making Atsumu's chest flushed. The question hangs between the two men.

“I'm not sure I could handle him crying,” Tobio admits.

Atsumu gets it. It's a hard one to swallow when tears have previously always meant pain. It's hard to understand that one’s body could just be so overwhelmed that it releases. That all the feeling and emotion that gets packed into the corners and crevices so that the person can go about their day, the release of intense subbing just forces it all out, until you're crying because you feel relieved.

Crying just signifies intense feelings. In this case, good but intense.

“What if he's crying but colors green? Your answer doesn't have to change, I'm just curious if that shifts anything for you.”

Atsumu keeps his eyes closed as he lays back. Honestly all he wants to do is touch where he's half-hard in his pants. Just thinking about doing those things to Sho-

“I think if I trusted his green, I would want to continue.”

Atsumu nods.

“There aren't any specific acts or positions that are ‘no's,” Tobio says when Atsumu doesn't press further.

“What about using your mouth?”

“I'd…like to,” Tobio says quietly.

Atsumu smirks, “Does it matter whose it is?”

“No,” Tobio says breathlessly.

Tobio admitting that is starting to push Atsumu further into the dom headspace.

Atsumu honestly had been expecting Tobio to say he only wanted to use his mouth on Sho.

“Anything for you?” Tobio asks.

Atsumu doesn't think Tobio will have many, possibly not any chances to dictate how things play out, but it's really good of him to still ask.”

“No blood, no marks on me,” Atsumu says, mentally scanning his own preferences - it's been a while since he’s had to discuss it with someone new - “I don't want to be restrained, gags included.” Atsumu might as well give the actual ones if this is to be a regular thing.

That about sums it up, most other things Atsumu can enjoy or is willing to try.

There is one last thing…

“Hey, Tobio?”

“Hmm?”

“Just this one time, and I truly mean, this one time, can you try to hold off on being a bit…bratty? I actually love that aspect of our dynamic that we still have to explore, but I think Shoyo is gonna come in here hot and bratty and I can really only handle him right now. If you both went that way…” I'd be fucked…Atsumu mentally tucks that concept away for later. Two brats, tugging him back and forth until they break, or he breaks.

“Just this once,” Atsumu reiterates, trying to make it clear that he actually really likes that part of Tobio.

“Huh, you really think he will?” Tobio asks

Atsumu’s eyebrow quirks up. Did Tobio not pick up on any of that? Huh…

“I'm pretty sure,” Atsumu says, sitting up onto his forearms. If he knows Sho, the spiker is gonna come back in here, undress in front of Atsumu, make a show of his ass as he gets clothes that will immediately be taken back off. And then he's gonna climb onto this bed and…

Well, from there is anyone’s guess.

“Why can you only handle one brat?” the inflection in Tobio’s voice makes it clear he knows what he's doing.

Atsumu swears he can feel his blood pressure rise. He's not fully sure where this feeling comes from, but the frustration he feels upon hearing Tobio’s mocking tone, transforms so beautifully into the desire to take this man apart sexually, brick by brick.

Atsumu sits up and puts himself in Tobio’s lap. The man had been sitting upright, so now Atsumu is too. He relishes the look of surprise on Tobio’s face until his chin and jaw are held tightly in Atsumu’s hand.

“Don't,” he warns, looking directly into Tobio's eyes. The rival setter blinks.

“Dont, if you want the chance to fuck him tonight.” Atsumu can't withhold forever, it's not like that anymore. But he can shut this down for tonight, if that's what it takes for Tobio to learn how to listen.

Tobio swallows and keeps eye contact.

He slots his face next to Tobio’s ear, “and if you want to use your mouth on him.”

Atsumu lets Tobio’s wheels spin.

“Okay,” Tobio whispers, “I'll reign it in.”

“Thank you,” Atuamu says, genuinely relieved. He leans back, sitting with some space between them now.

“Imagine if Shoyo came in now?” Atsumu says with a pointed glance down to where Tobio is half hard still in his shorts. He raises a hand up to play with the hair at the nape of Tobio’s neck. He knows it must be so sensitive. Tobio suppresses the shiver that tries to run through him.

“What would he think?” Atsumu wonders aloud, “Would he find it hot?” Atsumu shifts his weight to sit even higher up on Tobio's legs, “Would he be jealous?”

The sharp intake of breath tells Atsumu just how much the idea is affecting Tobio.

Atsumu angles his hips to tuck them back and then rolls them up. He's not actually lined up with Tobio, so the gesture feels empty. Like it's missing that connection, the drive to chase the orgasm together. To press themselves into the other.

“Do you want to find out?” Atsumu holds himself back, needing the confirmation that he's reading the room correctly before he continues.

“Yes,” Tobio breathes.

Chapter Text

Atsumu pushes down on Tobio’s shoulders until his back hit the bed. He thumps down, jostling Atsumu in the process. Atsumu leans over to hover atop of him.

He looks for a moment, watching Tobio. The man seems a little unsure, but not scared. Atsumu lowers his mouth until he's just a breath away. His lips tingle with the anticipation of what is next.

“Would he be jealous of how much attention I'm giving you?”

He feels Tobio breathe out.

“How would he feel, seeing me on top of you like this?” he pauses, feeling how close he truly is to kissing Tobio, “seeing how you let me…”

Tobio's face is blushed. Atsumu leans in a little closer, just the edges of their lips grazing each other, “what if he watched?”

A short, quiet whine catches in Tobio’s throat. His breathing has grown a bit heavier.

“Can I kiss you?”

Tobio nods and starts to arch his head up to reach.

“Ah-ah,” Atusmu pulls away an inch, “Use your words sweetheart.”

After a moment Tobio says “Yes, kiss me,” he tries to lean up into it again but Atsumu places a hand on his upper chest to hold him down.

“I'm kissing you,” Atsumu reminds him, “be good and just lay there for me.”

He feels Tobio relax under him, limbs going slack to rest against the bed. His head stays in place but Tobio lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes.

“Just think,” Atsumu gently presses their lips together, “He could walk in at any moment,”

Tobio whines but doesn't move. Oh - is he going to stay that still? Atsumu had just been trying to get Tobio to stop lifting his head up, he hadn't been telling the man to stop moving completely…

He kisses Tobio’s lips with a tiny bit more pressure, pulling back up to see if the setter moves. He doesn't. Atsumu closes his eyes in an attempt to calm down. It feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

He kisses the corner of Tobio’s mouth and works his way, peppering kisses down towards his throat. Tobio whines sharply but doesn't move.

Fuuuuuuck. Atsumu forces himself to keep going slowly, when all he truly wants is to lick into Tobio’s mouth and find out if he's going to stay still there as well.

…

At first it was hard to stay still. Tobio felt like he was having to focus on each part of his body to actually control it. After a few minutes of Atsumu using his tongue to explore Tobio’s mouth, his body naturally relaxed into it.

He lets his voice go though, moaning and whining as Atsumu explores him. His wet tongue runs along Tobio’s teeth and over his own tongue.

“You're just letting me drool all over you,” Atsumu whispers before kissing wetly over Tobio’s open lips. An ungodly sound comes out of Tobio’s throat.

“That's it baby, you want more?”

Tobio’s body nods before he can tell it not to. Atsumu doesn't seem to mind, going right back to kissing Tobio.

“Fuck,” Atsumu moans, “Kiss me back Tobio, let me feel you,” the words take a moment to fully register, and then Tobio’s body slowly wakes up from his deep relaxation. Tobio becomes more aware of how hard he is between his legs. And he's also becoming aware of how when Atsumu moves a certain way Tobio can feel how hard he is.

Tobio’s mouth starts to participate back, he runs his tongue up the length of Atsumu. It feels so wet, the sounds of their mouths moving together all Tobio can hear. When Atsumu moans, sucking around Tobio’s tongue…Tobio can't help but imagine - blonde hair between Tobio’s legs, tongue playing with - Tobio’s hips jump at the vision, Atsumu’s lips wrapped around Tobio.

Tobio thrusts up, seeking any sensation against where he is hard.

Atsumu tsks and uses a hand to firmly hold Tobio’s hip to the bed. It drives Tobio fucking wild. He reaches his neck up to try and get closer to Atsumu’s mouth. The man indulges him but keeps his hip pushed down. Despite the pressure Tobio bucks against the hold, wanting to feel his cock brush against Atsumu's body again.

“Needy,” Atsumu murmurs in between breaths, “isn't he?”

Tobio, so lost in all of the sensations, barely hears him and just moans in response.

“Fuck, let me in there,” Shoyo’s voice cuts through it all. How long has he been here?

“I'm not done,” Atsumu says, licking along Tobio’s open lips.

Tobio opens his eyes and locates Shoyo, hair wet and dark, droplets still clinging to his chest, like he did not properly towel off. Tobio instinctively moves towards Shoyo, a hand on his throat stops him short. The hand doesn't apply unnecessary pressure, but it does command Tobio’s attention. He looks up at Atsumu.

“I'm not done with you,” his tone leaves no wiggle room, “stay still.”

Tobio’s eyes widen and he glances to Sho and back to Atsumu. The air goes hot, as everybody waits for someone to push back. There is a part of Tobio that now understands why Atuamu told him to hold back the defiance. It - it almost feels like a tightrope that they are all walking.

His eyes shift over to Shoyo who is staring at Atsumu, one knee on the bed, one leg still on the ground. Atsumu's thumb idly pets Tobio’s throat while still keeping his whole hand around it.

Shoyo smirks, glances down briefly and finishes climbing into the bed to sit beside Tobio.

Shoyo’s fingers card through his dark hair, “Well don't let me stop you then,” his fingernails scrape down Tobio’s scalp, making his spine bend against Atsumu’s body. The blonde setter still has a hand holding his hip down, so they all just watch him struggle without actually moving.

“I was just starting to enjoy the show,” his nails dig into Tobio’s skin under his hair. Tobio winces, again held down to the bed while his body reacts.

Atsumu is uncharacteristically quiet, just keeping a firm hold on Tobio’s hip and throat. It's dizzying, this new tension. Like Atsumu is a wild animal that Shoyo is choosing to provoke.

Shoyo pulls on Tobio’s hair, forcing his forehead down towards the bed, his chin jutting up instead.

“Ah,” he gasps, his fingers clutching at the bedsheets.

“He’s moving quite a bit for someone who was told to be still,” Shoyo observes, leaning forwards to press on Tobio’s other hip. Tobio’s brain keeps bouncing between all the different sensations, his neck-covered with a hand, his hair pulled tight, forcing his head back, and the hands pushing his hips to the bed.

“Please,” Tobio aimlessly asks. His hips keep uselessly pressing against the force holding him down.

“Look’it, he needs you,” Shoyo’s patronizing tone is doing things to Tobio’s head. The hand around his throat is doing things to his head.

Shoyo releases his hair and brushes his fingertips along the edge of Tobio’s face until they reach his mouth.

A calloused thumb brushes along his bottom lip. Tobio whimpers at the touch.

“Fuck,” Shoyo whispers as Tobio attempts to bring the digit into his mouth.

Atsumu clears his throat, “Do you want to actually do something instead of just teasing him?”

“I'm do’in more than you-” Shoyo starts

A moan is ripped out of Tobio's lungs as Atsumu finally uses his own hips to press into Tobio. Atsumi keeps going, rhymically pressing against Tobio through their clothes. Tobio cries out, Shoyo’s thumb still pressing down on his tongue.

It's overwhelming. Both of them focused on Tobio. It's overwhelming. Tobio keeps making noise as Atsumu dry humps him into the bed.

“It's okay if you're jealous sweetheart,” Atsumu's voice is smooth as velvet. Atsumu sits up and pulls his hand back from Tobio’s throat to pat Tobio’s chest. The motion is exactly like when you try to convince a cat to jump up onto the bed with you.

Tone dripping like honey, “Come on baby, I have a treat for you,” Atsumu pats Tobio’s chest again.

“You sure you're not just passing him along to me because you can't handle it?” Shoyo swings his leg over top of Tobio’s chest, oriented so that Tobio gets to see his face, and sits his weight down on his knees.

“Hmmm,” Atsumi says thoughtfully and he wraps his bicep around Shoyo’s neck. It puts their faces side by side. Shoyo’s face goes pink, but it's clear he can still breathe.

Atsumu flexes, constricting the space Shoyo does have. The red head curses quietly, his eyelids fluttering, “Just tell me what you need me to do to him.”

…

It's the first moment of relief since Shoyo walked into the room. He had immediately dropped the towel, hand lowering to idly play with himself as Atsumu made out with Tobio.

Now he's got Shoyo sitting naked on Tobio’s chest.

There had been moments where all he could do was breathe through the energy flowing through him. It’s an energy that is visceral. It demands attention. Atsumu found himself panting as he let Shoyo spout off his mouth.

There truly is nothing like bratty Shoyo.

Atusmu keeps his arm around Shoyo’s neck, all the while grinding his hips into Tobio’s hardness. He uses his other hand to drag feather light touches along both of his sub’s sensitive sides. Shoyo hummed and shivered a little into the touch while Tobio bucked like he was being pinched.

Tobio’s stunted movements jostled both of them. He may have two men sitting on him, but Tobio is fucking strong. If he's desperate enough, he’ll move no matter who is holding him back.

Atsumu thinks about tying that man up in rope And watching him struggle against the bindings. Nowhere to go baby, you can't escape it, just sit still and take it…

He's breathing heavily into Shoyo’s ear, both of them rocking with Tobio’s aborted thrusts.

“He wants to use his mouth,” Atsumu shares with Shoyo. The spiker takes a deep breath in.

Atsumu loosens his grasp around the man’s neck, “Lean over, I'm gonna eat you out while he sucks your dick.”

“God,” Shoyo breathes out.

He bends over, putting his hands down onto the bed on either side of Tobio. Atsumu smiles, pleased with how Shoyo seems to be falling into line. He puts his hands on the spiker’s hips and urges him forwards. Shoyo complies, shifting his knees higher up so that he can actually use Tobio’s mouth.

Atsumu pulls Shoyo’s ass apart so that he gets a good view. Fuck.

Like, fuuuuck. The sight of Shoyo like this, on his knees, legs spread, his asshole on display, his cock and balls hanging down… Atsumu uses his other hand to smooth his hand over the curve of Shoyo’s ass and down his thigh. Atsumu keeps going down until he lands on Tobio’s pelvis instead. He traces his fingers over where Tobio has been straining in his shorts.

Tobio’s moan is muffled. Fuck, Atsumu glances between Shoyo’s legs to see that hes letting Tobio suck on the tip.

Atsumu glances up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath.

“Atsu~” Shoyo chimes, lowering his chest to raise his ass, wiggling it just for Atsumu.

“Yes, baby?” It takes everything in Atsumu to keep his voice calm. Because truly all he wants to do is hold Shoyo down by his waist and fucking rail him. Make him eat every bratty fucking word he’s said.

Instead he traces a finger over Shoyo’s balls, tailing down to the base of his cock.

He watches Shoyo lean even further into how he is presenting for Atsumu, “you're always making me beg,” Shoyo says, “when I know, for a fact, that you love eating me out.”

Atsumu feels his lips quirk into a smile, it's true, he does love it. He could run Shoyo for hours, and never get tired of it. In fact, he's pretty sure he has.

He uses both hands to hold Shoyo’s ass apart. He settles his body, lining up his groin with Tobio’s and gets comfortable. He kisses Shoyo’s left cheek, gripping the right one harder in his hand.

The spiker doesn't react, instead taking the time to moan Tobio’s name.

Tobio’s fucking name.

Atsumu bites down on the part of Shoyo’s ass under his mouth.

Shoyo’s body jolts but he doesnt comment on it, instead saying, “fuck, yes, just like that,” it's obvious he's still talking to Tobio.

Atsumu releases the bite and presses his forehead against Shoyo. Fuck. He knows that Shoyo is doing this to get a rise out of him. It's working. He stokes Shoyo’s backside, his insides warring with what his next step will be. He wants to use his mouth on Shoyo. He really does. But he doesn't want to give Shoyo what he wants…not like this.

Shoyo’s gasps and the wet sounds of Tobio’s mouth is too fucking much. “Fuck, baby, fuck, so good-” Shoyo's body is starting to shake.

“Ya - just gonna - let him - do all the work?” Shoyo gasps out in-between breaths.

Atsumu bites down on his tongue. He leans back, putting some space in between them. He watches Tobio lifting his head to take as much as he can into his mouth. Shoyo is keeping mostly still, likely in the hopes that Atsumu will eat him out.

Shoyo glances over his shoulder, and makes eye contact, “Fuck babe, do you need to beg for it before you let yourself have it?”

Atsumu doesn't choose to move. He pulls Shoyo’s legs further apart, stretching him out nicely. Shoyo startles, almost falling forwards with the change in balance. Atsumu grabs his waist, pushing Shoyo even lower, spreading his legs even more. He presses his chest against Shoyo’s back, covering him completely.

“Atsu, I thought-”

“Shut up,” Atsumu pushes Shoyo head down, tilting his face to the side to keep an eye on him, “You’ve been runnin’ your mouth,” he takes a breath, “You're going to stay just like this,” for extra measure he pulls on Shoyo’s hair while keeping him caged under his own body.

Shoyo keens, face wincing in discomfort.

“You're going to let us use our mouths,” he breathes in, “until you cum, dry.”

“Atsu-” Shoyo whines.

Atsumu applies pressure down on his head, pushing him into the bed, “Shut. Up.” He's barely holding it together, the waiver in his voice betraying him.

“Unless you're coloring, I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth.”

He stares at Shoyo’s face. He can't look away. He wouldn't look away for anything. Shoyo blinks, his mouth opens and closes without a word. The spikers jaw sets in defiance. He's not saying anything, but he's not exactly submitting either.

His hand moves to Shoyo’s throat and he pushes down on the side. The amount of force he is using is at the upper edge of what they do together. The muscles in Shoyo’s neck feel tight as he gasps.

“Don't act like you don't love it,” Atsumu says, continuing to watch Shoyo stay pinned to the bed.

“You've been practically begging for me to hold you down.”

Shoyo is taking in short labored breaths.

“You like it, don't you?”

Shoyo closes his mouth and struggles against the bed. Oh no you fucking don’t.

“Don't stop Tobio, you can still reach him, yeah?”

Shoyo's eyes flash open and he groans. Atta boy Tobio.

Shoyo’s eyebrows pinch together as he lays there pinned down. His mouth opens and he starts breathing quickly.

Atsumu licks his lips. Shoyo is still fighting it. He eases up on the pressure, shifting back to instead put his hands back around Shoyo’s waist.

“And just think, I had been about to work you open for Tobio to fuck you,” it's true, the plan has been to eat Shoyo out until he was begging for fingers. And then get Tobio nice and ready and subby. But now…

“Instead, now you get to cum twice, just like this, thinking about how Tobio could be inside of you by now.”

“Bu-” Shoyo cuts himself off.

“But? But what darling?” Atsumu knows it's bordering on cruel. He's gearing up to actually check in with Shoyo before he finally gets to feast on his ass.

Shoyo doesn't respond. He doesn't respond because one orgasm has already turned into two. And he doesn't want it to turn into three. He wants Tobio to fuck him. He wants to watch Atsumu fuck Tobio.

Atsumu tightens his grip on Shoyo's waist. He loves how big his hands feel around the smaller man.

“You just want to be treated like the slut you are, isn't that right love?”

Shoyo whines but doesn't respond.

Atsumu licks his lips, anticipating finally getting to press his face up between Shoyo's cheeks.

He yanks back on Shoyo’s waist, pulling him backwards until he's practically sitting in Atsumu’s lap, still on his knees. It takes him a moment to balance after being manhandled.

“This is how you want to be treated, isn't it?” Atsumu asks into his ear, holding him tightly by the waist, “Like a pretty little toy? Like a hungry slut that needs to be held down and used? Is that it?”

Shoyo bites down onto his bottom lip.

“Tell me your color, tell me if you want this.”

Shoyo huffs out a breath, leaning his head back against Atsumu.

“If you want me to use you like you deserve, all you have to say is one little word.”

Atsumu waits, his mouth watering. He wants to feel Shoyo clench around his tongue as he comes dry.

“Green,” Shoyo whispers.

“Louder, he needs to hear it too. He needs to know what a desperate slut he’s in love with.”

Shoyo is nearly vibrating now, “Green,” he says louder.

“As you wish my darling,” Atsumu pushes Shoyo back over, forcing his face into the bed, “Stay,” he finally sits back down, spreads Shoyo open and brings his face in between those beautiful fucking muscular cheeks. He licks up from the balls over his twitching hole. Fuck, Atsumu breathes in deeply, and dives in.

Chapter Text

His knees ache. And his hips. He barely notices, only able to feel two mouths on him. His upper half is collapsed against the bed, arms up above him, helping him muffle himself. Each time he accidentally moaned out a half-formed word Atsumu sat back and hit his ass. Hard. The pain has pushed him so deep that all he can think to do is keep his own arm against his mouth in the hopes that it blocks anything that might sound like a word.

He strains to keep his back arched so that his hips are angled correctly. Whenever he starts to slip further down towards the bed Atsumu bites him.

Shoyo has no clue how long it has been. He's already orgasmed once. Dry, like Atsumu told him too. Working up the second is taking longer. The bed is wet under Shoyo’s mouth. He opens his eyes and looks ahead, continuously moaning into his arm. What if he can't finish a second time? What will happen? What if he takes so long that they get bored?

Tobio takes him deeper, his mouth making such fucking messy noises. Shoyo pants and groans. He's been stuck here for what feels like forever. He's fucking drowning in pleasure but he can't seem to get it to be sharp enough to orgasm. He’s too fucking blissed out to come.

A part of him doesn't give a single fuck. Let them keep going. Let them keep going until Shoyo’s body truly collapses. Let him suffer the consequences. Let Atsumu smack his ass raw.

The other part of him…knows he's taking too long. Knows he's failing to deliver what Atsumu told him to do. The pleasure turns sharp, but in all the wrong ways. The other two just keep going, as Shoyo cries, gasping and moaning. He needs, he needs, he -

“Stop,” his own arm obstructs the sound. He hadn't moved it before trying to talk. He feels Atsumu lean back and panic grips Shoyo tight. He’s about to get hit. He pulls his mouth away from his arm.

“Yellow! Yellow,” he says, bracing himself for impact. His body stays tense, even when the hit doesn't come. He's breathing too fast.

“Take your time,” is all Atsumy says. It's his gentle voice. More tears overwhelm Shoyo's eyes. In relief this time. Shoyo nods, and relaxes a bit. His hips really do hurt.

“Can-” he stops, he's not allowed to talk.

But you colored, another voice in his head says. He did… “Can I sit?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” Atsumu gently holds his hips and guides him back until he is sitting on Tobio’s legs. Oh, Tobio. It's the first looks he's really gotten at the man since he was pushed down face first. Tobio’s mouth is covered in spit, and he's flushed pink.

Shoyo sighs and tries to stretch out his legs. It hurts. They feel locked into place. He whines as he has to use his hands to finally get them to move and straighten out. Fuck. He sags back, leaning against Atsumu’s chest, as he rubs at the muscles in his upper leg.

Atsumu puts his arms on either side of Shoyo, not quite holding him, but bracing him in.

Shoyo’s brain is still cloudy. It's hard to fully even understand how he got here. He plays back what he can remember. Oh…

“I wasn't gonna be able to-” Shoyo fights through his heaving chest to talk, “not a second time.”

“That's okay,” Atsumu reassures, “was it hurting too much?”

Shoyo shakes his head. Now that the panic is gone he seems to be mostly still under. Everything feels slow inside of him, but fast on the outside. Like Atsumu is living at a faster frame rate.

“Was too blissed out,” Shoyo admits, sagging further into Atsumu.

“Oh,” Atsumu says a little breathlessly, “you got there already?”

Shoyo nods. Settled against Atsumu with his legs straightened out, desire seeps back into Shoyo’s body. He can feel how hard Atsumu is behind him. He can't stop looking at Tobio's messy face.

“Will you please get me ready?” He doesn't mean for his voice to come out all needy and sweet. It does anyway. He looks up to Atsumu. The setter looks back at him, his appraising eyes running over all of Shoyo's face.

“If that's what you want,” Atsumu says carefully.

Shoyo turns back to Tobio, feeling like he can barely keep his eyes open.

“I do, I still want what we discussed,” he wets his lips, “just please don't ask me to come, I'm not sure I can.”

Atsumu curls a hand up to pet Shoyo’s cheek, “You did so good,” Atsumu whispers.

Shoyo nods, eyes closed.

“I'm going to give you whatever you want my love,” Atsumu’s fingers go into Shoyo’s hair. If Shoyo could purr, he would.

“Just want to be used,” Shoyo says.

“You will be,” Atsumu assures.

Shoyo feels his whole body relax. All of the brat and defiance gone from him.

“Tell me how,” Shoyo says, letting his brain fully fall back into subspace. It feels like it's truly where he belongs.

…

Shoyo lays on his back, his legs hooked around Tobio’s arms. It's nice, not having to hold his own legs back. Tobio kisses him. Like really kisses him. Shoyo kisses back as much as he can in his state. It's mostly just him moaning into Tobio’s mouth.

Atsumu is using his mouth on Shoyo, driving him back into that overwhelmed and blissful place. The setter also has a finger circling around where his mouth is working, teasing Shoyo, keeping him wondering when Atsumu will finally push inside.

Shoyo clings to Tobio, accidentally digging his fingers in when he's overwhelmed by the sensations.

“How’s he doing Tobio?” Atsumu asks.

“Mmmm,” Tobio tries to pull away but Shoyo arches to stay kissing. Tobio gently pushes him back down, “so fucking good,” he says.

Shoyo feels his whole body go hot under the praise. He turns his face away, finding the attention to be overwhelming.

Tobio's lips find his neck and he gasps, hands threading into Tobio’s hair to hold him there. Tobio licks up the column of his neck as Atsumu just barely starts to enter Shoyo with his finger.

“Ngggh-” Shoyo’s body bows as Atsumu goes deeper. He’s been holding back from talking, not because Atsumu asked him to, but because he's chasing that feeling of being good. Of listening. Of doing as he's told. Atsumu angles his finger, something so practiced and easy for them now. It does not detract from how good it feels when Atsumu presses against his prostate.

Atsumu’s tongue enters along with his finger. The act sets all of the sensitive nerve endings at his entrance ablaze. He wants to beg. Tobio keeps lovingly sucking on Shoyo's neck.

Atsumu pulls his tongue out and kisses all around where his finger slowly fucks rhymically into Shoyo. Tobio shifts above Shoyo, his legs adjusting on either side.

Atsumu pulls away completely, never slowing or stopping his finger inside of Shoyo.

Shoyo vaguely tracks Atsumu’s movements as he leans over Tobio. The rival setter is pulled back by his hair until he is hovering over Shoyo, holding himself up by his fingertips. Tobio gasps at the pain of being wretched up like that. Shoyo turns his head to watch, his mind blissfully coasting on Atsumu’s relentless attention to his prostate.

Atsumu’s eyes are on him, even when he's speaking into Tobio’s ear. It's an intense gaze that makes Shoyo squirm and clench around the single finger inside of him.

Shoyo watches Tobio breathlessly nod in response, his eyes also locked onto Shoyo. Both of them just looking down at him, as he squirms and pants. He wants to turn away from all of the attention. But even if he turned he would still know.

Tobio is dropped and he uses his forearms to catch the descent until he is back on top of Shoyo. Tobio immediately nuzzles into Shoyo's neck, pushing his face to the side so that Tobio can go back to licking and kissing his sensitive throat.

Shoyo sighs and breathes out, letting himself enjoy being used by the both of them.

Tobio tenses, his body flexing forwards into Shoyo as he groans low and deep. Shoyo blinks, his neck still under Tobio’s mouth.

Tobio moans again, the sound pitching high and needy at the end. Right into Shoyo’s ear. It - it doesn't really make sense. Shoyo’s body has been riding a constant wave of pleasure from the prostate massage. And even from before, he’s too blissed out to orgasm. His job is just to enjoy it and sink as deep as feels safe. But…he's not sure why Tobio is moaning like that.

“Lower your hips all the way,” Atsumu’s steady voice sends energy down the back of Shoyo’s neck. His eyebrows pinch together as he tries to figure out how to let his hips down. They are already on the bed. Then Tobio lowers himself, until their hips are perfectly matched together. Ooooh.

Tobio jolts a little, whining into Shoyo's ear as their dicks press together. “That's it baby,” Atsumu praises and Tobio presses his body even harder to Shoyo's

“Show him how bad you need it,” Atsumu says.

Tobio is also panting now, his hips writhing endlessly. Just consistently grinding into Shoyo.

It's under the full weight of Tobio’s writhing body that Shoyo realizes, Atsumu is fingering Tobio too. The knowledge, and subsequent writhing that has Tobio humping against him makes Shoyo’s body burn red hot.

Every press of their aching cocks makes him want to wail. Closer. More. Please.

He keeps almost starting to say something, the sounds to form words getting stuck in his throat. His pelvis is starting to go tight.

Oh fuck, Shoyo thinks as he realizes he’s actually building up to another orgasm. It's too much. His hips start to jerk, body twisting under Tobio’s weight. It's so full, and so long in the making - the feelings building up inside of him are overwhelming. Almost scary. But he's done this enough times with Atsumu that he knows better than to be afraid. It's the scary ones that end up truly breaking you open to pleasure.

“ ‘M-close” he gasps as his body keeps trying to buck up Tobio.

Atsumu sucks on his teeth as Tobio continues to whimper into Shoyo’s neck.

“What is it sweetheart? Is it how he's hump’in ya? Is that what finally got to you?”

The comment pushes him even closer. He's seconds away to being lost in the current of chasing the orgasm to its finish.

He grabs onto Tobio’s back, his blunt fingernails digging into his skin.

“What if I told you no?” Atsumu asks, his voice cold.

Shoyo’s eyes open, he's nearly lost to the sensations, unable to actually hold it all back. It feels like he's being ripped in two different directions as he clenches everything in his pelvis to hold it off.

Atsumu’s finger pulls out and Shoyo’s eyes fill with tears. The overwhelming swell of the potential orgasm slowly fades into a needy hum. Shoyo stares at the wall as Tobio continues writhing against him, whimpering and moaning for more. Shoyo's breath hitches in his chest as he comes to terms with what Atsumu just withheld from him. It was going to be such a fucking good orgasm.

“Let's save that orgasm for when he’s inside of you,” Atsumu says, petting Shoyo’s thigh like he does actually understand how cruel that was. Shoyo nods as a few tears leak from his eyes. He feels so empty. He wiggles his ass as much as he can and clenches on nothing, hoping that it will help entice Atsumu to be inside of him again.

“Oh baby, is there something you need?”

Don't do this, not now, please. Shoyo whines, trying to conjure his ability to speak.

He hears and then feels Atsumu spit on his entrance. You know - you know what I need, please.

“Tell me baby,” Atsumu spreads the spit around his hole. Dazed, Shoyo just lays there, as Atsumu plays with his wet ass.

Tobio tenses above him, an urgent noise catching in his throat.

“Fuck, Tobio is already up to three,” Atsumu comments.

Shoyo’s face burns hot with the knowledge that this whole time Atsumu was fucking Tobio open…but not him. The jealousy gets his voice working.

“Please-” Shoyo begs as Atsumu presses ever so slightly against his clenching entrance, “do me too-”

Atsumu keeps playing with his spit covered hole for a few tense seconds, “No princess.”

Shoyo turns as far away as he can with Tobio on top of him, still jerking and humping backwards in time with whatever Atusmu must be doing.

Why? The question draws out in his own mind as Tobio grinds down onto him.

As if Atsumu knew it would be too hard to swallow he keeps talking, “I figured you'd want to feel yourself stretch out on his cock.”

Fuck. Fuuuuck. Yes. Yes, Shoyo does want that. The weight of Tobio on Shoyo’s chest is relieved. The rival setter is pulled up by his hair once more.

“Wanna feel every inch of him?” It's unclear if the question is for Tobio of Shoyo. Its Tobio who manages to respond.

“Yes,” Shoyo watches Atsumu smirk and kiss Tobio’s ear and then his cheek.

“Yes?” Atusmu emphasizes the question in a way that shows he's not satisfied with the answer.

Shoyo finds Tobio looking down at him. He looks fucked out of his mind, legs trembling and his stomach muscles twitching with effort.

“Please Atsumu,” Tobio corrects.

Atsumu hums and moves on down to Tobio’s neck, nipping and kissing lightly.

Tobio jolts and takes a deep breath. Shoyo glances down between Tobio’s legs. Fuck he's so hard, and hes dripping onto Shoyo. Past his aching cock he can see a small part of Atsumu’s hand. He's still fucking up into Tobio, supposidly with three fingers. The hand twists and flexes, spreading the fingers wider rather than just penetrating.

Tobio keens, his thighs shaking even more.

“I wanna-” Tobio’s thought is broken by a high pitched moan, “I wanna wait too.”

Atsumu keeps scissoring him open, as he leans back to get a better look at Tobio.

“What if I say no? Say you have to finish now before you can?”

Tobio’s eyes flutter shut and he swallows. His hips wiggle in response to the fingers inside of him.

Tobio bites on his top lip for a moment. He turns to face Atsumu as best he can, and says quietly, “I’d listen.”

Atsumu grabs Tobio’s chin and kisses him. Shoyo watches, feeling so empty and needy. He knows soon he’ll have what he wants. But fuck it's so hard to wait. And Atsumu knows that, knows how hard the waiting is. That's why he does it.

Shoyo watches Atsumu detach their mouths, each breathing heavily for a moment, just looking at each other.

Atsumu puts his free hand on Shoyo’s thigh, still bent and crushed up against Tobio.

“Turn over baby,” he pats the aching muscle, “I'll give you what you need.”

Chapter Text

Tobio sits back and lets Shoyo flip over, his pert ass fully on display. Tobio looks at how the entrance glistens with Atsumu spit. Fuck. He licks his lips as Atsumu pushes down on his back to bend him over.

“Just let him hear you,” Atsumu says, still three fingers deep in Tobio.

Tobio nods and puts his mouth up against Shoyo’s ear, his whole torso pressing down into the man below him. Shoyo sighs under the pressure.

Atsumu’s free hand teases up and down Tobio’s exposed back. It makes his body jerk uncontrollably, his muscles instinctively clenching around Atsumu's fingers.

“Nngh,” the sensation is a lot. It feels like Atsumu’s fingertips, just dragging lightly over his skin, is actually shocking his muscles.

He hears Shoyo whimper under him. Something about being so fully out of control already makes holding anything else back impossible.

He snuggles into the back of Shoyo’s head, nuzzling his lips against the shell of this spiker's ear, “I love you.”

Shoyo tries to crane his neck around but Tobio’s body is keeping him fully pinned down. Tobio kisses the part of Sho he can reach, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay, it's okay,” he keeps kissing Shoyo’s cheek.

The spiker whimpers quietly, burying his face back into the bed. God. He really does love Shoyo.

He kisses the nape of Shoyo’s neck, letting his lips linger against the soft skin and coarser hair. The man squirms beneath him. Something starts to flicker and burn in Tobio’s chest as Shoyo shifts his ass against his aching erection.

Something deep and primal rises up in him. His fingers itch with energy as Shoyo squirms underneath him. He bites down on his bottom lip to keep his hands from…grabbing…pushing…

He thinks about how it felt to have his fingers around Shoyo’s throat. How Sho had looked and how he relaxed under Tobio’s grip. How it had felt to run his thumb over Shoyo’s windpipe…how gorgeous Shoyo had looked with his flushed chest and face.

A hand lands on his shoulder, bringing Tobio’s focus back to Atsumu behind him…Atsumu inside of him.

“You do’in alright there Tobio?” Atsumu shifts inside of him, forcing a moan out of Tobio’s mouth. Shoyo shakes under him.

Atsumu’s hand drifts up to Tobio's neck, like the setter could fucking read Tobio’s mind. The tips of his fingers tease along his throat.

“Do you remember how hard I had you press?” Atsumu asks, applying a little pressure himself.

It's nowhere near enough pressure to actually constrict his breathing, but it's enough to clearly imagine more.

“Yes,” he croaks out, mouth still planted against the nape of Shoyo’s neck.

“Hold him there, but don't squeeze.”

Tobio’s brain feels like it's overheating as he adjusts his weight to better balance. Atsumu doesn't let up on the pressure holding his fingers deep inside of Tobio. When Tobio moves, the hand moves with him.

He slides one hand under Shoyo’s chest, and cups his hand loosely around Shoyo’s throat. He does the same with his other hand. It's…fucking exhilarating. He feels where his entire body pushes down into Shoyo, as well as where his hands brace his fragile neck from the underside. It's such a fucking power trip to have his spiker pinned this way.

“That's it, good boy,” Atsumu praises, starting to fuck his fingers in and out of Tobio. Hearing the praise is like a release. He groans into Shoyo’s neck, aware of how badly his hands want to squeeze.

“It's hard not to, isn't it?” Atsumu’s voice is so deep and smooth, like he’s using his voice alone to bring Tobio deeper.

“It just feels so fucking good,” Atsumu still has one hand around Tobio’s neck.

Tobio nods, his voice fully preoccupied with moaning from Atsumu’s relentless fingers on his prostate.

“You want to feel his breath catch,”

Tobio gasps out, fuck. He really does. Atsumu’s voice…what he's saying…the position…feeling everytime Shoyo swallows. Tobio forces his fingers to stay loose, despite how they yearn to feel more.

“He loves feeling someone else control his breathing.”

Tobio whines, pushing his face down against Shoyo’s head, pushing the spiker further down into the bed, further down into his hands.

“Ah-” Atsumu verbally corrects him while pulling him back a few inches by his throat.

“Not yet darling,” Atsumu says sweetly. Tobio is reeling, his body sensations all heightened by the momentary lack of ability to breathe. Just that quick motion, the force against his windpipe, was….

“No matter what, you don't get to squeeze.”

Tobio is panting, staring down at orange hair. Staring at where he can see his own hands around Shoyo’s throat.

“If you do, there will be consequences.”

Despite having a free airway, Tobio can't seem to catch a deep enough breath.

Atsumu leans over him, pulling him back by the neck to meet him.

“You're going to hold back. You're going to let it all build. The desire for control, the desire to fuck him, the desire to let go completely into him. You're going to hold it all back while you let me use you.”

Tobio’s eyes fall closed, his hands still around Shoyo’s neck, twitching, but never tightening.

“Can you do that for me?”

“Y-Yes,” the formal affirmative croaks out of him. Atsumu hums and pets his throat.

“If you feel like at any point you can't, color for me, I'll let you calm down before I continue.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Before he continues. Tobio imagines it, him panting, trying to control himself, just for Atsumu to keep going as soon as he's ready.

“Yes,” Tobio says again, feeling how his throat moves against Atsumu's hand.

“Shoyo darling,” Atsumu says louder, “Are you gonna be able to wait a bit longer.”

Shoyo’s back heaves for a moment before he nods into the sheets.

“Color for me,” Atsumu says.

Shoyo’s hand emerges into a thumbs up before collapsing back into the bed.

“Good enough for you Tobio?”

“Yes-” Tobio barely finishes saying it before Atsumu is pulling all three fingers out of him. His hips flex involuntarily, seeking something to fill him back up.

“Don't worry, I've got you,” Atsumu reassures.

Something soft and hot presses against Tobio’s backside. Fuck. Fuck.

“Last chance Tobio,” Atsumu says quietly, “you sure you don't want a condom? No shame in it.”

Tobio’s body burns hot, his hands start to flex in embarrassment before he realizes and stops himself. He apologetically pets Shoyo’s neck with his thumbs.

“It's fine,” he says, the shame burning through his head.

Atsumu pulls his cock away from Tobio’s ass and fuck does Tobio miss it.

“Hey,” Atsumu’s voice is gentler now, “condom is the default, I won't go raw unless you actually want it.”

Tobio’s bottom lip throbs with how hard he is biting down. It feels like he's at war with himself. He doesn't want the condom, but the embarrassment is pulling him out of the moment.

“Breathe,” Atsumu coaches, “We are all here because we want to be, the second one of us doesn't want it, we pivot, or stop. No shame in saying ‘no’. None.” he lets the words sink in before continuing, “There is also no shame in wanting what you want.”

Tobio tries to breathe, tries to let Atsumu’s words fight back the shame. Atsumu leans over him, still firmly holding him by the throat.

“You can let yourself want.”

Tobio finds himself nodding, the gently but earnestly spoken words soothing his anxieties. He can want. He can say what he wants.

“I don't want the condom,” he says. Tobio wishes he could see Atsumu, see if it's really okay.

“Neither do I,” the blonde says as he kisses Tobio’s neck. Tobio whines, fingers still tense but loose around Shoyo’s throat.

“Color?” Atsumu whispers into his ear.

“Green,” Tobio whispers back, the intimacy of the moment turning his body hot.

“Good boy,” Atsumu says against his ear, “Now lean over and let me finally fuck you.” There is a rasp in Atsumu’s voice that betrays how the waiting has gotten to him as well.

Tobio lowers himself fully back down onto Shoyo. Atsumu’s hand slips away from his neck to tail over his sensitive back and then over the curve of his ass.

Tobio hears the click of a lube bottle and then the breathly groan of Atsumu behind him. Fuck. Tobio eyes close as he buries his face into Shoyo’s hair and waits.

…

Fucking hell. Atsumu holds in all the curses he wants to say as he looks down at Tobio’s wet, clenching hole. Fuck it's going to feel so good. It's been a long time since he fucked someone other than Shoyo.

Sure, at the beginning of his and Shoyo’s arrangement it was left open, but pretty quickly Atsumu realized he didn't need to fuck around when he already had the perfect fucking sub in his bed most nights.

But this…having Shoyo and someone new…Atsumu never really considered it as a possibility until he noticed how Tobio looked at his outside hitter. How Tobio’s ears went pink when he watched Atsumu curl a hand around Shoyo’s waist during time-outs. It made something twist in Atsumu's stomach. Something thick and hot. Something he only ever got glimpses of when he would see women try to pick Shoyo up in bars. Shoyo always graciously declined, bowing multiple times in apology before catching Atsumu’s eye and coming back to his side.

It was never official. It never needed to be. Neither of them dated. Each of them loved what they did in bed. Each of them loved working together. To date would complicate it all. Especially as coworkers.

Atsumu’s in deep now. He knows it. As he grasps himself in a lubed up hand and spreads to all over his dick, never looking away from where Tobio is bent over and presenting himself.

All those months ago when he first realized that Tobio Kagyama had feelings for his former spiker, Atsumu tested out his theory during a session. He had Shoyo on his lap, facing away from him. Atsumu’s hands were braced across his chest, holding the spiker in place, making him sit full of Atsumu's cock.

It was the night after a game against Tobio’s team. The Jackals had lost. The session started as a way to blow off steam. But the longer it went on, the more Atsumu could tell that something beyond just sore feelings were affecting his spiker.

Atsumu had been pressing down on Shoyo’s hips to keep grinding deeper into the man. Shoyo whined quietly, his body just barely fighting off the truly relaxed state that comes with being under. Shoyo had been fighting it all night. Atsumu didn't take it personally, sometimes brains were just too busy to truly let go. But, that night, Atsumu had an idea about what could be causing the mental block.

He was just frustrated enough with the loss to be willing to try it.

“Hinata,” the name sounded wrong in his mouth. They've been on a first name basis since fucking high school for Christ's sake. But…he knows Kagyama still used Shoyo’s family name.

Shoyo tensed up, ass going nearly vice tight around Atsumu. The reaction didn't deter him.

“He still calls you Hinata,” Atsumu said, keeping a firm grip on Shoyo’s hips.

“Wha-what’re you-” Shoyo sounded so perfectly breathless.

“He watches you,” Atsumu continued on, pressing kisses into Shoyo’s neck.

“He couldn't take his eyes off you.”

“He-heh, Atsu,” Shoyo sounded so confused. Needy and confused.

“He was basically fucking you with his eyes.”

Shoyo squirmed on his lap, clenching tight.

“You two didn't ever…mess around?”

Shoyo shook his head. He was breathing heavier than he had all night, even though he had already cum twice.

“But you thought about it…” Atsumu didn't leave it as a question. He was telling Shoyo that he knew Shoyo had feelings back.

“Atsu-” Shoyo whined, squirming to try and turn around and look at him “why’re you-?”

Atsumu used a hand to hold Shoyo’s head in place so he could talk directly into his ear. Their position happened to already be perfect.

“Hold still.”

Shoyo did, although his body still vibrated with energy.

“Close your eyes.”

“Pretend I'm him.”

…

God it has been such a fucking good session in the end. Shoyo wrung himself dry fucking himself onto Atsumu's dick, all the while chanting Kageyama’s name. At the time it was fucking hot to know that he had Shoyo.

Even when Shoyo was letting himself fall into a fantasy, it was Atsumu’s dick he fucked himself on.

Atsumu lines himself up to Tobio’s clenching ass. That night, he never imagined it would come to this. He doesn't regret it at all. Something about all of this feels so right.

Tobio’s back muscles clench when he feels Atsumu’s dick press against him. Atsumu glances up to see that the hands around Shoyo’s throat are still loose. He looks back down to where he's just barely pressed against Tobio.

He uses one hand to hold his dick and places the other on Tobio’s lower back.

Atsumu wonders how long he could hold himself here, teasing, before Tobio started to beg. Could Atsumu’s own desire outlast Tobio’s pride?

He gets his answer so much sooner than he expected, “Please, please, I can’t-” Tobio takes a shaking inhale, “I need it.”

Tobio Kageyama just admitted that he needs Atsumu’s dick. It makes it all worth it.

“Convince me,” Atsumu just has to see how far Tobio is willing to go.

The rival setter groans, and flexes his hips back even more, “Please, please, you know I need it.”

Atsumu slides his free hand down over Tobio’s ass. The urge to hit it makes his fingers twitch. Tobio keeps babbling, “I need it, I need it, I won't-” Tobio struggles to breathe. God fucking dammit he looks so fucking good like this, “I won’t-” Tobio tips his head down, like it really is too difficult to talk, “I won't come, I won't,”

Ohhhh. Oh baby. Atsumu pets his ass, pressing a little harder against where Tobio is waiting to be filled.

Atsumu wonders how long Tobio would keep going. He wonders how long he could stretch this out before it starts to be cruel and unethical.

“Yeah? You gonna hold everything back for me?” Atsumu brings his hand down to the back of Tobio’s thighs and grabs the muscle there, “Gonna hold it all in until I let you have your turn?”

“I will, I will, I can do it, please,”

The word ‘pathetic’ slides through Atsumu’s mind. He loves it. Seeing Tobio babble and beg mindlessly makes Atsumu want to fuck that boy into the bed. He wants to reward Tobio just as much as he wants to punish him.

Atsumu’s hips jerk forwards a little and Tobio fucking whimpers. God he needs it.

“Please,” Tobio breathes out, his hands still loosely caged around Shoyo’s throat. Well, Atsumu shouldn't make Shoyo wait much longer…

“You better not fucking come,” Atsumu hooks his hand around Tobio’s hip bone, pulling the setter back against him.

“I wont, I wont,” Tobio breathes out.

Atsumu closes his eyes for a moment, nearly overwhelmed by the rush of power. Jesus.

“I hear ya” he reassures, “stay still for me baby,” he can't help the pet names, not when Tobio is putting his safety, wellbeing and pride into Atsumu’s hands. And maybe…he’s actually feeling kind of fond of Tobio.

Atsumu pulls Tobio closer to him as he leans forwards, finally, finally pushing into Tobio. It's slow going, in the best fucking way. It's clear that Tobio has not really bottomed. Even Shoyo will take it easier than this without even being opened.

Atsumu breathes out, groaning as he pushes to get even the head inside.

“God you're fucking tight,” Atsumu grips Tobio’s hip tighter. God, maybe Tobio will have bruises tomorrow, “Gotta relax baby, let me in.”

Tobio’s shoulders are hunched up and Atsumu wonders if he's too much. He eases up on Tobio’s hip and starts to pull back out, if you can even call it ‘pulling out’.

“No, no,” Tobio whines, pushing his ass back towards Atsumu, “I can do it.”

“ ‘Ya sure baby?”

Tobio nods frantically, “please, please, I'll do it, I can do it, just-”

Atsumu’s head tips curiously, “just what darlin’?”

Tobio’s shoulders hunch again. Atsumu pets his side, trying to soothe whatever is getting stuck.

“Can you-” Tobio’s voice stops, he starts again carefully, “Will you talk me through it?”

Atsumu feels himself melt and he leans over to kiss down Tobio’s spine, “Of course, yes, thank ya for askin’ baby”

Tobio seems to deflate, laying down more fully onto Shoyo. That's it darling.

He rights himself and guides his dick back to Tobio’s entrance. “Okay baby, let your hips relax, let your knees and my hand do the work of holding yourself up.”

Tobio’s body sags and Atsumu has to actually put effort towards holding him up by his hip.

“So good, just like that,” he doesn't expect how viscerally Tobio responds to the praise.

Tobio sobs wryly into the back of Shoyo’s head. Fuck. Atsumu wonders how long Tobio has been waiting to hear words like that.

“Focus on your lower back, I want you to think about how it felt when I fingered you to orgasm yesterday.”

Tobio’s back heaves up and down.

“Focus on how good it felt. How good it felt to let me in,” Atsumu applies a little more pressure and watches the tip of his dick start to slide into Tobio, “Fuck, just like that, can you feel me? Feel how ‘yer lettin’ me in?”

He can hear how his speech is devolving but he can't bring himself to care. Once in a while Shoyo makes fun of him for how much his accent comes out when he's focused and domming. He just doest care as he watches the rim of his head push against Tobio and then slip inside.

“So pretty,” fuck Tobio feels so fucking good, “breathe, yer’ doing so good.”

Atsumu didn't push farther once the head was in, giving Tobio space to adjust. Despite the three fingers that had all but been living in his ass, he's tight.

He gently pets Tobio's hip. Something swells up in Atsumu’s chest. No. Nope. Absolutely not. That's just the Dom talking. Atsumu shakes his head, trying to dispel the feeling.

“Keep going,” Tobio says weakly. Atsumu focuses first on the back of Tobio’s head and then leans to see that the hands around Shoyo’s neck are still loose. Fuck.

“Alright baby, I've got you.”