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Chapter Text

From Tadashi: 1 attachment

From Tadashi: DO NOT OPEN THIS UNTIL YOU GET BACK TO YOUR HOTEL ROOM TONIGHT IM SERIOUS TSUKKI

From Tadashi: but call me afterwards okay love u <3 <3 <3

Kei stares down at the message on his phone, eyebrow cocked. The video that Tadashi sent him’s thumbnail is solid black, giving absolutely nothing away. He furrows his brows even further. What could Tadashi possibly have sent him that he wouldn’t want Kei to open until he got back to his hotel room after his game? Could it possibly be…

Luckily, he'll get to find out soon. 

“You ready to go, man?” one of his Sendai Frogs teammates calls, and Kei clears his throat and nods, slipping his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and picking up his bag. He follows the rest of the team out to their bus, tucking himself into a seat near the back and unlocking his phone one more time to stare at that blank thumbnail again. His imagination starts running a little wild, but Kei reigns it in. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up for no reason. 

Finally, they arrive at their hotel, and Kei collects his stuff before trailing his teammates into the lobby, picking up his key, and taking the elevator up to his room. Sometimes, they have to share rooms during away games, but this time, the team sprung for singles. Did Tadashi know that, or did he just guess lucky? Either way, Kei isn’t going to complain. Not about the unexpected personal space, or about the video on his phone that he thinks (hopes) he’s right about the contents of. 

Finally, he shuts the door behind himself, tossing his bag to the foot of the hotel bed. He crosses the room right to the desk, sitting down in the chair and propping his phone up against a bottle of water. Finally, wasting no time, he navigates to his texts again, clicks on the video, and watches as it fills his screen. With a deep breath, he clicks the play button. 

The screen stays black for a moment, but then the camera gets uncovered to reveal Tadashi’s face. He’s smiling. 

“Hi, Tsukki!” he says cheerily. “Hopefully you were good and waited to open this until you were alone. But if you ignored me and opened it anyway, I’ll give you five seconds to close it. Five, four, three, two, one,” he counts, then pauses. “Okay, then. Guess you’re really alone! Surprise!” 

Then he stands up and steps back from the phone, and Kei’s jaw drops open. 

Tadashi is wearing lingerie. Fucking lingerie. Panties and a bra. It’s black and it’s lacy and it’s hugging every inch of Tadashi’s tan skin so tight that it might as well have been painted on. Never in all the years that they’ve been together has Tadashi worn lingerie for him, and Kei cannot fucking believe that he chose now to wear some. When Kei can’t even fucking touch him. 

Kei is going to kill him when he gets home. 

“Ta da!” Tadashi says, a satisfied smile on his face. But his cheeks are flushed pink, and Kei can read him well enough to know that he’s nervous. “I hope you like it. I’m sure you’re pissed that I did this while you’re gone. Don’t worry, you can take this off of me when you get home tomorrow.” 

God, Tadashi knows him so well. 

“Okay, well, I just thought you’d probably have a hard time sleeping after your game like you always do, and since I can’t be there to… help you, I thought this might be the next best thing. So, yeah. Enjoy.”

Then Tadashi pulls over a chair and sits down onto it. He starts to slip off the panties, and for a second, Kei is profoundly disappointed that he’s taking them off already, but then Tadashi pulls his knees up and puts his feet on the base of the chair, and leans back a little but so his hole is on full display. His hole that is currently filled with a fucking plug. 

Holy fucking shit. When did Tadashi get so kinky?

Kei has to start touching himself. He simply has no choice. 

He shimmies his sweatpants down enough to pull out his cock, which is already half-hard. He wraps his hand around it, starting to stroke lightly, watching as Tadashi starts to play with the plug, pulling it forward and back. Finally, he tugs it out all the way with a soft moan, dropping it onto the ground and retrieving a bottle of lube that he’d stored next to the leg of his chair. Kei moves his hand faster as he watches Tadashi slick up his fingers and quickly slip one inside of himself. He’s already stretched from the plug, so he only waits a minute before sliding a second one in with the first, making breathy little gasping sounds the whole time that make Kei’s cock get harder and harder and harder. 

“I wish these were your fingers,” Tadashi says suddenly. “Fuck, I wish you were here. I wish you were fucking me.”

“Put in another finger,” Kei says, even though he knows Tadashi can’t hear him. But like he miraculously can, Tadashi obeys, working a third finger in with the first two. He starts to crook them up, and Kei can tell right when Tadashi hits his prostate by the way his whole body seizes up and he gasps, lips dropping open perfectly. 

“Kei,” Tadashi moans, and Kei has to bite his lip to stifle a moan. 

If Kei was there, he’d replace Tadashi’s fingers with his own. He’d replace Tadashi’s fingers with his cock. He’d fuck Tadashi so good and so hard that Tadashi’s voice would get hoarse from screaming. Their fucking neighbors would hear him moaning. He’d make him come, and then he’d make him come again, and then he’d—

All at once, Kei comes. 

It’s a bit embarrassing how fast it happens, and how little he sees it coming. But he’s not sure he’s ever been this worked up. The sight of Tadashi in that lingerie, fucking himself on his fingers, and moaning Kei’s name pushed him to new heights. Maybe he’s more into voyeurism than he thought. They’ll have to explore this further when he gets home. 

The video is still going, and Kei watches as Tadashi pulls his fingers free and plops his legs down. He’s breathing heavily, hair falling in his eyes as he looks at the camera and says, “You just came, didn’t you?”

Like Kei said: Tadashi knows him so well. 

Yamaguchi giggles. “Okay, well this was fun. We’ll have to do it again sometime.” He gets up and walks back to the camera, dropping down in front of it. “Give me a call once you’ve got your breath back. Love you!”

Then the screen goes black. 

Kei just breathes for a moment. He can’t believe Tadashi did this. He can’t believe Tadashi did this for him. 

Kei loves him. Kei loves him so fucking much. 

Finally, he leans forward and grabs a tissue, cleaning himself up and tossing it into the trash before pulling back up his sweatpants and reaching for his phone. He taps on Tadashi’s name, pulling the phone to his ear and waiting while it rings. Eventually, it connects with a click. 

“You better be wearing that fucking outfit when I get home tomorrow,” Kei says instead of hello.

Chapter Text

“Come on, kitten,” Kuroo says, hands gripping tight to Kenma’s hips. “You can do it. Be a good boy and come for me.”

Kenma moans again at the words, fingers grasping tight to the sheets below him. He’s practically drooling into the pillow his face is pressed into. He feels like a fucking ragdoll, face down and ass up as Kuroo fucks into him harder than he ever has before. Kenma can barely breathe at this point. He’s so close. So fucking close. He just needs—

“Please,” he starts to beg. “Please, Kuro. Please touch me. I need you to touch me. I—I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Kuroo replies, and his voice is shockingly soft considering how roughly he’s fucking Kenma. But that’s Kuroo: even when he’s being rough with Kenma, he’s still always so fucking caring. “You can do it, pretty boy. I know you can come just like this.”

“I can’t,” Kenma sobs. “I’m so close. Please, Kuroo, please just—”

Then Kuroo angles his hips up a bit more and hits Kenma’s prostate head-on, and Kenma shrieks, more drool dripping past his lips as his hands start to pull the sheets so tight that one of the corners pops off. 

“Yeah, kitten, just like that,” Kuroo croons, pumping his hips in that perfect way again and again and again, absolutely abusing Kenma’s prostate with every thrust. “You’re so good. You’re so perfect for me. My perfect boy. You can do it. Come on, Kenma.”

Kenma feels hot tears dripping down his cheeks. He’s pretty sure he’s blabbering some mix of please and Kuroo’s name, but it’s unintelligible. He’s far past forming words. He’s far past forming thoughts. All Kenma can focus on is the way his body is being used and worshipped, and how somehow, miraculously, he’s getting even closer than he’d been before. Even closer than he’d ever thought he could get without actually coming. 

Kuroo’s hands start to grip his hips tighter, literally yanking him backwards and slamming him onto his cock. 

“Fuck, kitten. You’re so tight. You’re so perfect. Just—Just fucking come, Kenma.”

This time, he says it like a demand, and Kenma’s body listens. 

He comes. 

Oh, he comes. 

His vision goes white as he screams, coming untouched all over their (now ruined) bedsheets. By the time he finishes, his body feels entirely numb and his throat feels raw, his cheeks absolutely soaked with tears. Vaguely, he registers Kuroo cursing behind him and pumping his hips forward again, and then with a long groan, Kuroo comes inside of him. 

“Good boy,” Kuroo says once he’s caught his breath. “Good boy. I love you. I love you so much.”

And even though it takes all of Kenma’s brainpower to move and get his mouth to form words, he turns around enough to catch Kuroo’s eyes and whisper back, “I love you more.”

Chapter Text

“He looks cute like that, doesn’t he?” 

By like that, Kenma figures that Kuroo means stretched out on the bed, totally naked, wrists tied together, a plug is his ass, and a gag in his mouth. He’s been laying like that for a while now, and although Kenma can’t see himself, he’s pretty sure he looks cute like this as well. 

“Yeah,” Bokuto says. “He really does.”

Something about Kuroo and Bokuto talking about him like he isn’t even there makes Kenma shiver. It’s demeaning, and it probably should hurt his feelings, but instead, he loves it. He loves everything about this. After all, it had been him who proposed the idea to Kuroo and Bokuto, and luckily they’d both agreed. Several conversations about logistics, boundaries, and consent later, and here they are. 

“Which side do you want?” Kuroo asks. 

Bokuto makes a humming noise like he’s thinking. “Maybe his ass? Do you care either way?”

“No, that sounds good to me.” 

Kenma shivers again. Once again, he can’t believe how turned on he is by the calm and unaffected way Bokuto and Kuroo are talking about fucking him. 

“You ready?” Kuroo says.

“Yeah, let’s go for it.”

Kenma just lays there as they both make their way to the bed. He can’t see Bokuto, but he can’t help but try to smile around his gag when Kuroo comes into view in front of him. Kuroo kneels down in front of the bed, and takes Kenma’s cheeks in his hands. 

“You good, kitten?”

Kenma just nods. 

“Okay. I’m gonna untie your wrists and take this gag out, okay?” 

Kenma nods again. 

Gently, Kuroo undoes the rope around his wrists, and once he’s free, Kenma squeezes his hands a couple of times to get feeling back in them. Then, Kuroo reaches up and pulls the gag from his mouth, dropping it to the floor. He leans down and pecks a soft kiss to Kenma’s spit-slick lips before standing back up. 

“If you need to stop, pinch my thigh,” he says. “Don’t hesitate, okay? If you need a break, or if something hurts, or makes you uncomfortable, or anything. You say stop, and we stop.”

Kenma just nods again. He doesn’t feel like talking, and he thinks Kuroo and Bokuto won’t mind. His mouth is about to be full in a second, anyway. 

Kuroo smiles down at Kenma, stroking over his cheekbone before running his thumb over Kenma’s bottom lip. “Open up, kitten.”

Kenma obeys, dropping open his lips. Kuroo winds his fingers into Kenma’s hair, using his other hand to guide his cock into Kenma’s mouth. Kenma keeps still. He has a feeling that’s what Kuroo wants, anyway. Gently, Kuroo starts to fuck his mouth. 

Kenma is so focused on the feel and taste of Kuroo that he barely notices when Bokuto pulls his hips up. He does notice, however, when Bokuto pulls the plug from his ass and tosses it aside, hitching his ass up even further and slowly sinking inside. He whines around Kuroo’s cock, and Kuroo must like that by the way his fingers tighten in Kenma’s hair and his hips start to move faster. 

“Fucking hell,” Bokuto groans out once he’s bottomed out, seated all the way inside Kenma. “Fuck, does he always feel this good?”

Kuroo lets out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Bokuto starts to fuck Kenma harder, shoving him forward so Kuroo is fucking his throat deeper with each thrust. Kenma’s mind goes blissfully and delightfully blank like it always does when he gets submissive like this. Sometimes, Kenma likes to be in control when he and Kuroo fuck, but other times, he likes to just let Kuroo do whatever he wants to him. He likes to have nothing to do besides lay there and take it. To be a good boy, as Kuroo always calls him when they’re doing it this way. And now, with Bokuto here also, it’s just adding to that wonderful feeling of usefulness. Instead of pleasing one person, he’s pleasing two, and that feels good. 

Kenma feels drool starting to drip past his lips, slicking up Kuroo’s cock even further. He turns his eyes up enough to meet Kuroo’s, who looks down at him, pupils dilating as he bites down on his bottom lip. 

“You look so good, kitten,” he praises. “So messy and cute and perfect.”

“Damn, I can’t see him,” Bokuto complains from behind him. 

Kuroo laughs again. “He looks great. Trust me.”

“Can I—” Bokuto starts, and he must do something to indicate what the rest of his question was going to be, because Kuroo cuts him off to say, “Yeah. Go for it. He likes that.”

Kenma doesn’t have long to wonder what Bokuto is going to do, because it’s only a second later that a hand comes down on the side of his ass, startling him forward, forcing Kuroo’s cock deeper down his throat. He gags for the first time, throat constricting. Kuroo pulls back for just a second, letting him recover before thrusting forward again, starting back up with his previous rhythm. 

Bokuto slaps his ass a couple more times, and the sting is perfect. Kuroo was right: Kenma does like this. He likes it when Kuroo does it, and it turns out he likes it just as much when it’s Bokuto. 

“Hey, kitten,” Kuroo says, tugging on Kenma’s hair. His voice sounds strained and breathy. “Look at me again.”

Kenma does as he’s told, looking up to meet Kuroo’s eyes, and something in his fucked-out gaze must be what Kuroo was looking for. Hands pulling at his hair even tighter, Kuroo lets out a moan and grinds his hips forward, shooting cum down Kenma’s throat. His cock is so deep by that point that Kenma has no choice but to swallow it all, and he actually mourns the fullness when Kuroo pulls his cock free from his lips. 

Bokuto isn’t finished quite yet, though. 

“Oh fuck,” Bokuto curses. “Fucking fuck that was so— You guys are so—”

And then he comes as well. 

Kenma can’t do anything but lay there and take it, letting Bokuto slam his hips forward over and over again, pulsing inside the condom. He stays seated inside Kenma for a minute after he’s finished before pulling out. Kenma doesn’t move, just lays there with his eyes-closed, totally fucked-out and exhausted. He didn't even come, but he feels like he did.

Eventually, he feels a wet washcloth run across his ass and thighs, and then Kuroo is helping him sit up. 

“You alright?” he asks, pushing Kenma’s sweaty hair out of his face. “Was that okay?”

Kenma blinks his eyes open, taking in Kuroo and Bokuto’s nervous expressions. He realizes all at once that they’re genuinely worried that Kenma didn’t like what just happened. 

Instead of answering Kuroo’s question, Kenma says, “Can we do that again later?”

Based on the way Kuroo and Bokuto smile, Kenma figures that’s answer enough.

Chapter Text

Tadashi is discovering all kinds of new things about himself recently. 

First, he recently discovered he likes coffee after several years of thinking it tastes like bitter sludge. Apparently, if you put enough cream and sugar in it, it becomes bearable. Who’d have thought?

Second, he learned that he’s pretty good at calculus. He’d thought he was bad at it in high school, but his college professor must be a better teacher, because now, he’s totally gotten the hang of it. It’s easy now. He’s great at it, even. 

And third, he likes watching other people get fucked. 

Well, maybe not any other people. Maybe it’s just his friend Kenma. And maybe he only likes it when Kenma is getting fucked by his boyfriend, Kuroo. And maybe he only likes it when his boyfriend, Tsukishima, is there with him also. Maybe it’s that very specific set of circumstances that he actually likes, but damn, does Tadashi like it. 

At some point, he figures he and Tsukishima will start fooling around as well. After all, this isn’t much of a foursome if only Kuroo and Kenma are fucking. But for now, Tadashi and Tsukishima are simply enjoying the show. And it is one hell of a show. 

It helps that Kenma is really, really pretty and Kuroo is really, really hot. And when he’s getting fucked, Kenma makes these noises like a fucking pornstar. Tadashi vaguely considers telling Kenma and Kuroo they should record this sometime and put it on the internet. They’d probably make a boatload of money. 

Kuroo wraps his fingers around Kenma’s long hair, tugging on it gently, and Kenma lets out a noise that’s halfway between a shriek and a moan. Tadashi considers getting on the bed and getting his hand on Kenma’s cock. Kenma looks close, and although Tadashi has seen him come untouched a couple of times, he’d get there closer if someone jerked him off. But then again, if he goes and does that, it’ll end sooner. He isn’t really ready for it to end. 

Tadashi feels a hand squeeze his arm, and he turns to find Tsukishima looking at him. 

“You ready?” he asks. 

Tadashi smiles. “Ready.”

Chapter Text

Kei likes it when Tadashi cries. Does that make him a sadist? He isn’t sure. He doesn’t think so, at least. Because he doesn’t like causing Tadashi pain, or even embarrassment, really. No, what he likes is when Tadashi gets so unbelievably worked up that he can’t hold it in any longer. When he just starts crying and sobbing because it feels too damn good. Because Kei made him feel that good. That’s what Kei likes. 

And if that makes him a freak, so be it. 

“Tsukki!” Tadashi shouts, head leaning back to expose the column of his throat, and Kei takes the opportunity to latch his lips onto it and start sucking. He leaves a mark, and then moves downwards and leaves another. Ideally, Tadashi would be fully and totally marked up, but that’s not practical. As it is, Tadashi is going to give him shit tomorrow about these hickies. But right now, neither of them care. Right now, a meteor could probably smash into the Earth and neither of them would care. 

Tadashi tries to wrap his arms around Kei’s shoulders, but Kei grabs onto his wrists instead, pinning them above his head. Tadashi moans at that, a perfect pink flush creeping across his cheeks and down his chest. Kei likes the sight of it. He likes the sight of it so much that he can’t help but start fucking him harder, slamming his hips forward and back hard enough that the room becomes filled with their breathless moans and the sound of skin slapping together. 

“Tsukki!” Tadashi cries out again, stifling a noise that sounds suspiciously close to a sob. His eyes are starting to get wet, and that realization makes even more heat pool in Kei’s gut. 

Yes, he thinks. Yes, start crying. Fucking cry. Fucking sob for me. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” Kei asks. 

Tadashi nods furiously, and Kei can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face. 

“No,” he says, pushing Tadashi’s hands even further into the mattress. 

This time, Tadashi does sob. “Please,” he begs. “Please, Tsukki. Please, I need it. Please, I’ll—”

Kei isn’t even really listening to his babbling. He’s too busy looking at the tears that are starting to fall down Tadashi’s cheeks. His hips start to move faster and harder, the force of his thrusts literally pushing Tadashi up the bed each time. 

Tadashi is still begging, but Kei isn’t listening. He isn’t going to give in. No, he’s going to wait until Tadashi has completely fallen apart. Until he’s screaming and sobbing, soaked with tears, and then he’ll give him what he wants. Then, he’ll stroke his cock until he comes hard enough to see white. Only after that will Kei come himself, emptying inside of Tadashi in the way that satisfies some deep, weird, primal side of him that he isn’t really keen to question at the moment. 

Yamaguchi starts to sob even harder, tears streaming down his face and wetting the pillow beneath him. Kei watches, enraptured. It’s his favorite sight. His favorite in the world. 

Is he a sadist?

Maybe a little bit.

Chapter Text

Kenma doesn’t know why he agreed to go camping. He hates camping. He hates shitting in the woods and sleeping on the ground. 

“It’s not really sleeping on the ground,” Kuroo says after Kenma complains for the five-hundredth time. 

“It literally is.”

“No, there’s a sleeping pad beneath you. And a tarp. You’re in a tent, kitten. It’s not like we’re making you sleep on the dirt or something.”

“Same difference,” Kenma grumbles. 

He goes back to playing on his Switch, which he packed for this trip even though Kuroo told him they were supposed to be “connecting with nature”. Fuck connecting with nature. Kenma is perfectly connected to nature as it is, thank you very much. 

“Stop being grumpy,” Kuroo says, leaning forward and patting Kenma on the cheek.  

“I’m not being grumpy.”

“You’re being so grumpy.”

“No, I am—”

“Will you two shut up already?” Tsukishima shouts from the other tent. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Go fuck yourself, Tsukki!” Kuroo shouts back, and Kenma hears Yamaguchi giggle. 

“Will you all just shut up?” Akaashi snaps from the tent on the other side of Kenma and Kuroo. “You’re gonna wake Bokuto up.”

“Please,” Kuroo scoffs. “Bokuto could sleep through a plane crash.”

Yamaguchi giggles again, and this time Kenma chuckles as well. 

They do all shut up then, though. Kuroo climbs into their sleeping bag, patting the spot next to him. With a dramatic sigh, Kenma places his Switch down on the tent floor and crawls in next to him, turning around to let Kuroo spoon him. Kuroo flicks off their lamp, and then the two of them are cloaked in darkness. 

Now that the rest of their camping party has gone quiet, the tent is nearly frighteningly silent. All Kenma can hear are some bugs outside, and the sound of Kuroo breathing against his neck. 

He’s not even really tired, and the silence is unnerving him. Normally he sleeps with some sounds on in the background. Something, at least. But instead, it’s unnervingly quiet and dark and he fucking hates it. 

“Kuroo?” Kenma whispers.

“Yeah?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“You’ve only been trying for like three seconds.”

“It’s too quiet. And dark.”

“It’s fine, kitten. Just keep trying.”

Kenma squirms around a bit. It’s true that their sleeping bag and sleeping pad are both pretty squishy, but it still feels too much like sleeping on the ground. He can’t get comfortable. He squirms around some more. 

Kuroo sighs, tightening his arm where it’s wrapped around Kenma’s waist. He slips his hand beneath the hem of Kenma’s t-shirt, splaying his fingers out on Kenma’s stomach. 

“Do you need me to help you sleep?” he whispers. 

Kenma knows what he’s suggesting right away. It’s a bad idea. Their friends are literally five feet away. Definitely a bad idea. 

But…

“Mhm,” Kenma hums, subtly nodding his head. 

Kuroo presses a kiss to the back of his neck. “Can you be quiet?”

“Yes.”

Kuroo chuckles quietly and then kisses his neck one more time. Then, he slides his hand downwards, pushing past the waistband of Kenma’s sleep pants and boxers and wrapping his hand around Kenma’s length. 

Kenma gasps. 

“What did I say about quiet?” Kuroo scolds, but Kenma can hear the smirk in his voice. 

Kenma brings his own hand up to press over his mouth, trying to keep himself quiet. If he’s too loud, Kuroo will have to stop, and Kenma doesn’t want that. 

Slowly, Kuroo starts to jerk him off, using his thumb to collect some of Kenma’s precum and to make the slide easier. Kenma wishes they had lube. He wishes they were home, in their own bed, so Kuroo could fuck him to sleep instead. A handjob is nice, but Kenma always falls asleep so easily after Kuroo’s been inside of him. 

Kuroo twists his hand in the perfect way that makes Kenma go crazy, and he presses down harder on his mouth to keep his moan quiet. Kuroo must hear it anyway, because he lets out a low and dark laugh. 

“You’re being so good for me, kitten,” Kuroo whispers in his ear, his breath warm against Kenma’s skin. 

Kenma hates to admit it, but he loves when Kuroo talks to him during sex. Something about Kuroo’s deep voice around words of praise pushes Kenma closer to the edge faster than anything else. 

“So good and quiet, but you wanna make noise, right?” Kuroo asks. “Yeah, if you could, you’d be screaming. You’re usually so loud, kitten. Like you can’t help it.”

Kenma can’t help it. Kuroo is just so sexy and sweet that the second he gets his hands on Kenma, he can’t stop noises from spilling past his lips. He’s sure he’s annoyed plenty of their neighbors at this point, but annoying their neighbors is not the same as giving their closest friends a free show. 

“I wish we’d brought lube,” Kuroo whispers, echoing Kenma’s thoughts from before. “If we had lube, I’d stretch you out with my fingers, and then I’d fuck you and you’d have to be so, so quiet. It would be so hard for you, kitten. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to stop it. Maybe you’d start moaning and screaming so loudly, everyone could hear. Maybe I’d have to gag you if I wanted to keep you quiet. But maybe I wouldn’t want you to be quiet, after all. Maybe I’d want you to scream my name so loud that everyone fucking knows that you’re—”

Kenma comes with a muffled shout, making a complete mess of his boxers. He just hopes he didn’t get any cum on their sleeping bag. 

Kuroo kisses his neck one more time before letting go of his cock and pulling his hand out of Kenma’s pants. Kenma finally drops his hand away from his mouth, sucking in a couple furious breaths. 

Once he’s finally caught his breath, he turns around to face Kuroo and says, “You ruined my boxers.”

“I ruined your boxers? I’m pretty sure you’re the one who did that.”

“Mmmm,” Kenma hums, pushing forward against Kuroo. “Well, it was all your fault.”

Kuroo presses a kiss to the top of Kenma’s head. “You gonna change?” 

“I’ll do it in the morning.”

“You’re gonna be all sticky and gross and then you’ll be even grumpier.”

“Mmmm,” he hums again. “Sleepy.”

Kuroo lets out a quiet, breathy laugh. “Okay, kitten. Go to sleep then.”

Kenma knows that Kuroo is right: tomorrow morning he’ll be all sticky and gross and it’ll put him in a bad mood. But now, he’s all warm and fuzzy. And he’s actually tired. 

His ruined pants can be a tomorrow Kenma problem.

Chapter Text

“This is stupid.”

“No, it’s not. It’s supposed to be fun, Kenma.”

“Well it’s not. It’s stupid.”

Kuroo sighs, and Kenma can imagine him running a hand through his hair. He can’t see it, though, because there’s a blindfold over his eyes. A blindfold that he somehow let Kuroo talk him into wearing while they have sex. 

“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” Kuroo says, and his voice sounds closer this time. “But I think it might be fun to at least try.”

This time, it's Kenma's turn to sigh. 

“Fine,” he says. “Let’s try it.”

“Okay!” Kuroo practically squeals, and this time his voice is even closer. 

Kenma knows when he drops down onto the bed by the way the bed shifts and creaks, and then Kuroo crawls forward until he’s between Kenma’s open legs. Kenma is already naked, but last time he checked, Kuroo was still clothed. But then again, it’s not like Kenma can see anything, so it’s not like he really knows. He doesn’t know if Kuroo still has his clothes on or if he’s looking at Kenma's body or if he’s about to touch him or—

Oh, Kenma thinks he might see the appeal of this. 

He nearly jumps when Kuroo places his hands down on Kenma’s thighs. 

“Okay?” Kuroo asks. 

“Yeah,” Kenma says, the word coming out like an exhale. 

Kuroo slides his hands further up Kenma’s thighs, and Kenma hears him shifting around. 

Suddenly, there’s something wet wrapped around Kenma’s cock. 

“Oh,” he gasps, hands landing in Kuroo’s hair. Kuroo takes him further into his mouth, sinking down until Kenma is hitting the back of his throat before starting to bob his head up and down. 

Usually when Kuroo is going down on Kenma, he likes to watch him. He likes to see the way Kuroo’s lips stretch around his cock, and the way his eyes start to water as he takes Kenma deeper and deeper. Usually, Kenma is the more submissive one between the two, but when Kuroo is giving him head, he gets nearly submissive. It brings out a dominant side of Kenma that very rarely comes out, and although Kenma loves their usual dynamic, there is something satisfying about switching things up. 

But this time, Kenma can’t see him. So this time, that dominant streak doesn’t come. Instead, he’s completely at Kuroo’s mercy. He just has to lay here and take whatever it is that Kuroo wants to give him. And he can’t see what’s coming next, let alone stop it. 

He’s so locked into the feeling of Kuroo going down on him that he somehow doesn’t hear the sound of a lube bottle snapping open and closed, so Kenma is completely shocked when Kuroo’s fingers start pressing at his rim. Kuroo’s mouth doesn’t stop moving once, perfectly sucking him off while he slips one and then two fingers quickly inside of Kenma. 

Something about his vision being gone makes everything feel so much more heightened, and Kenma finds himself fighting back breathy moan after breathy moan, hands tightening in Kuroo’s hair in a way that can’t be comfortable for him. Kuroo doesn’t complain, though, just speeds up his mouth while expertly angling his fingers to tap against Kenma’s prostate. 

“Kuro,” Kenma gasps. “I’m gonna—”

Kuroo hits against his prostate again, pushing his head down so that Kenma’s cock is fully buried in his throat, and that’s enough for Kenma. He comes harder than he has in a long time, hips thrusting up and back arching off the bed as he spills down Kuroo’s throat. 

When he finally falls back to the bed, Kuroo pulls away from his cock with a wet sound. It’s only a second later that he’s pulling the blindfold off of Kenma’s face. They only have one lamp on in their room, but it suddenly seems overwhelmingly bright in there, and Kenma squints, his eyes tearing up. 

Kuroo brings a hand up to swipe away a couple of Kenma’s stray tears. “Did that feel good?”

Kenma opens his eyes up fully to meet Kuroo’s. He feels his lips draw up into a smirk. “I think it’s your turn. Want to find out?”

Chapter Text

Hajime hates having to schedule sex. He misses when he and Oikawa lived in the same country and could simply fuck whenever they felt like it. But instead, they now live on complete opposite sides of the world, which means that if they want to fuck, they have to build it into their schedules and account for timezones. Then they have to fuck through a damn computer screen, which is simply not the same. No amount of jerking off while watching Oikawa jerk off will ever be comparable to the feeling of actually fucking him. 

But alas, Hajime makes do. 

He stares at the clock on his desk, watching the minutes tick closer to their scheduled time to call. It’s been a little while since they’ve had time to do this, and Hajime feels painfully pent up. Finally, when there’s only a couple minutes left, he gives in and hits the call button. It rings for nearly a minute, and he begins to worry that Oikawa isn’t going to pick up, but finally, it connects. 

“Iwa-chan!” 

Hajime can’t help but smile. Oikawa always sounds so happy to see him, even if it’s just through a webcam. And Hajime might not be as good at showing it, but he’s just as happy to see Oikawa. Even if it hurts a little bit, seeing him through a screen when he’s so far away. He can’t wait until the next time one of them can visit, but for now, he knows this is the best they can do. 

“Hey,” Hajime replies, fighting to keep his joy out of his voice. He has a reputation to uphold, after all. 

“How was your day?” Oikawa asks. 

“It was good. How was yours?”

Oikawa launches into some explanation about some volleyball-related mishap that happened to him today, but Hajime is only half-listening. It’s not that he doesn’t love hearing his boyfriend chatter about nonsense (he does, of course), but this wasn’t supposed to be a regular phone call. No, this was supposed to be a sex phone call, and Hajime is kind of ready to get to the sex part. 

Finally, Oikawa trails off. He looks at Hajime through the screen, one corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”

“Nope, not really.”

Oikawa’s smirk intensifies. “Too busy picturing me naked?”

“Yep, pretty much.”

Oikawa laughs. “Well,” he says, “wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.”

Hajime watches with bated breath as Oikawa pushes back his computer and stands up from the bed, already pulling his shirt over his head. He pops the button of his jeans and tugs those off as well until he’s left standing in just his boxer briefs. The sight of his near-naked body is enough to get Hajime hardening in his own pants. Oikawa has gotten in even better shape since high school, and sometimes Hajime thinks it seems like he gets more and more beautiful by the day. 

Finally, Oikawa tugs his boxers off, and then he’s completely naked. 

He climbs back onto the bed, keeping the computer far enough back that Hajime can see everything. “Your turn, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime swallows. Oikawa has obviously seen him naked countless times, but it always feels a bit embarrassing doing this over the phone. But Oikawa just did it, so finally, Hajime stands and pulls his clothes off as well. Only when he’s naked also does he sit back in his chair. 

“How do you want to start this?” he asks. 

Oikawa bites down on his bottom lip, cheeks flushing pink. “I kind of want you to tell me what to do, if that’s okay?”

Oh, so it’s one of those days. 

Oikawa has a lot of different ways he can be during sex. Pushy, rude, sappy, jumpy, loud. But one of his rarer moods is when he wants Hajime to be entirely in charge. Hajime enjoys any and all forms of sex with Oikawa, but he has to admit that he likes it when Oikawa gets a bit submissive most of all. 

“Yeah, baby,” Hajime says. “That’s okay.”

Oikawa makes a little whining noise at the pet name. They don’t use it all that often, but when they’re doing it like this, it often just slips out. 

“Do you have lube?” Hajime asks, and Oikawa nods. He reaches over and rummages around in his bedside table before pulling out a bottle. “Good boy,” Hajime says, smirking when Oikawa whines again at the praise. “Can you touch yourself for me?”

“How?”

Hajime had purposefully left his request open-ended, in case Oikawa wanted the option to choose for himself. But evidently, he doesn’t. 

“Can you use your fingers?” 

Oikawa’s face turns even pinker and he nods, opening the bottle of lube and squirting some onto his fingers. Then, he hitches up his legs and gives Hajime one hell of a view before starting to rub at his rim. 

Oikawa moans as he slips the first finger in, and that’s enough to get Hajime fully hard. He reaches down and grasps his cock, starting to stroke slowly. When Oikawa notices, he gasps and speeds up his own hand, starting to pump his finger faster. 

“Put in another,” Hajime instructs. He knows Oikawa’s body, so he knows that he’s ready for another already. 

Oikawa obeys right away, a fact that brings Hajime an embarrassing amount of pleasure. His own hand speeds up, and he reaches for his own bottle of lube, squirting some directly onto his cock to make the slide easier. 

“Hit your prostate,” he says, and Oikawa nods, crooking up his fingers. It takes him a second to find it, but then—

“Iwa-chan,” he moans. 

There is immense satisfaction in the fact that Oikawa is moaning his name continents away, without Hajime even being the one to touch him. He loves that he has this much control over Oikawa, even from this far away. 

“C’mon,” Hajime encourages. “Do it again.” 

Oikawa continues hitting his prostate, letting out perfect noises with every tap of his fingers. Hajime can’t help but jerk himself off faster, getting pushed dangerously close to the edge by just the sight and sound of Oikawa bringing himself so much pleasure. 

“Iwa-chan, can I—” Oikawa starts, but Hajime doesn’t even let him finish the question. Whatever it is he wants, Hajime wants him to have it.

“Yeah. Of course.”

Oikawa uses his free hand to grasp his cock, starting to stroke it in time with the thrust of his other fingers. 

“Good boy,” Hajime says, unable to keep it in. It’s just so true. Oikawa is such a good boy. So perfect for Hajime. “Just like that, baby. Come on. Make yourself come.”

Oikawa needs no more encouragement. With another few strokes of his cock and thrusts of his fingers, he starts to come all over his stomach. Hajime watches, completely enthralled, until Oikawa stops shaking with aftershocks, dropping his cock and pulling his fingers out of his ass. 

Hajime’s eyes drift closed. His imagination starts running wild. In his mind, Oikawa is there with him. He has him spread out on the bed, his ankles resting on Hajime’s shoulders. He’s fucking him hard. So hard that Oikawa has tears streaming down his face. He hears the noises Oikawa makes when he comes. The noises he just made a second ago, but he imagines them coming from below him, from lips pressed close to his ear. He imagines his hips pushing forward, how tight and wet Oikawa feels around him. And then he—he—

He comes. 

He works himself through it, eyes still closed, only opening them when he’s completely spent. When he does, he finds Oikawa sitting close to his own webcam, eyes open wide and mouth hanging open. 

“That was so hot, Iwa-chan,” he says. 

“Yeah, well, right back at ya.”

Oikawa lets out a loud laugh, which makes Hajime laugh as well, and then they’re sitting on opposite sides of the world from each other, naked and laughing hysterically. 

Once they’ve both settled down, Oikawa leans off the bed and grabs a t-shirt from the floor, tugging it over his head. Hajime notes that it’s one of his old shirts, and he finds himself smirking smugly. 

“Okay, now do you wanna hear about my debacle from earlier?” Oikawa asks. 

“Sure,” Hajime replies. 

Hajime knows that the next few years will be hard for them. There will be times when he’ll doubt if this is worth it. But right now, he knows that it is. Anything is worth it, as long as he gets to have this.

Chapter Text

If you asked Kenma a year ago, he never would have thought he’d be into something like this. He thought he was vanilla. Evidently not, as it turns out. 

By something like this, Kenma means getting fucked while people watch. Well, not people, exactly. Just Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, who at this point are really Kuroo and his two closest friends. Kenma doesn’t think he’d necessarily be into this with anyone else, but when it’s them, he loves it. 

He doesn’t know what it is that he likes about it so much. Maybe how desirable it makes him feel? Or maybe it’s the way Kuroo gets nearly feral when they’re doing this, fucking him even harder than he normally does. Or maybe he’s just a freak. Who knows, and who cares, really?

Kenma sure doesn’t.

Kenma’s eyes tilt up, locking on Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. They’re not even doing anything yet, just watching Kuroo and Kenma like they’re the best show they’ve ever seen. Tsukishima always looks so nervous when this is happening, hands clutched into fists at his sides and cheeks bright pink. Yamaguchi just looks enthralled, like he can’t take his eyes off of Kenma. Kenma likes both reactions. He isn’t sure why. 

Kuroo digs his fingers into Kenma’s hair, taking hold of it and tugging on it. He’s not doing it hard (he could do it harder and Kenma would like that), but the sting is delicious, and Kenma finds himself moaning loudly enough to bug the neighbors. He feels close—closer than he has any right to be at this point. They haven’t really been at it all that long, and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi haven’t even gotten started yet. And although Kenma wouldn’t mind finishing up early enough to get to watch them some, he was hoping maybe he’d get to kiss Yamaguchi while Tsukishima fucks him. He loves kissing Yamaguchi, and it’s never sloppier or better than when they do it while both getting fucked. 

Suddenly, Kuroo pulls Kenma back so he’s upright, sitting on Kuroo’s lap and bouncing up and down on his cock. His lips drop next to Kenma’s ear. 

“Come on, kitten. Let’s give them a real show,” he whispers.

Chapter Text

Usually, Kei prides himself on being level-headed. Calm. Unaffected. But right now, Yamaguchi is pushing every one of Kei’s buttons. Trying to get under his skin. And unfortunately, it is working. 

Kei is standing on one side of the dance floor of a shitty club, watching Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi, who is dancing with another man. Except dancing isn’t even really an accurate way to describe it. Instead it’s more like grinding, the man’s hands holding tight to Yamaguchi’s hips while Yamaguchi pushes back against him. 

Kei’s hand tightens around the beer bottle he’s holding. He’s lucky it doesn’t shatter.

The most ridiculous part is that Kei has no real reason to be jealous. Yamaguchi isn’t anything to him. Just a guy he’s been casually hooking up with for a couple of months. It’s just that he was under the impression that Yamaguchi was not hooking up with anybody else. But now he's thinking otherwise, based on the sight in front of him.

It makes Kei want to scream.

Suddenly, Yamaguchi’s eyes scan across the club and land right on Kei’s. A part of Kei expects Yamaguchi to be embarrassed about getting caught, but nothing in his expression gives that impression. Instead, Yamaguchi looks smug, lips curling up into a smirk as he holds Kei’s eyes. He reaches a hand back to tangle in the man he’s dancing with’s hair, tugging him down so the man is panting right in his ear. The whole time, he keeps his eyes on Kei. There’s something challenging in his gaze. Like he’s daring Kei. Asking him What are you gonna do about it? 

Kei sees fucking red.

He drops his beer bottle onto an empty table and stalks across the dance floor, right up to Yamaguchi and the stranger. 

“We’re going,” he says, having to shout to be heard over the music. 

The man’s eyes narrow in annoyance and confusion. “Huh?”

Kei ignores him, eyes locked on Yamaguchi. “We’re going,” he repeats.

Yamaguchi just swallows, looking nervous for the first time all night. With a shaky nod, he extricates himself from the man’s hold. 

“Is this your boyfriend or something?” the man asks. 

“No,” Yamaguchi replies, and the quick and casual denial makes Kei’s blood run even hotter with anger. Even though it’s true: Kei isn’t Yamaguchi’s boyfriend. 

“Then what are you leaving for, baby? I thought we were having—”

“Shut up,” Kei snaps. It’s stupid, but he suddenly feels about two seconds away from punching this guy in the face. If he has to hear him call Yamaguchi baby one more time, he won’t be able to control himself. 

The man is stuttering out some protest, but Kei isn’t listening. He just turns and walks back across the dance floor. He doesn’t check to see if Yamaguchi is following him. He’s pretty sure he is. 

They burst out of the club into the cool night air, and Kei doesn’t stop. Just starts walking in the direction of his apartment. This time, he can hear the tap tap tap of Yamaguchi’s feet behind him. It fills him with smug satisfaction. Yamaguchi might have been teasing him before, but now he’s doing exactly what Kei tells him to without protest. A sense of power replaces the anger pumping in his veins. He wonders what else Yamaguchi would let him do to him tonight.

It’s a short walk back to Kei’s apartment, and the two of them silently climb the stairs to his door. Kei unlocks it and they head inside. He waits until the door has fully shut before turning to Yamaguchi. 

“You’re kind of a slut. You know that?” he says. 

Yamaguchi’s face flushes pink, making his freckles stand out even more than usual. It’s cute. He’s cute. Kei wishes he didn’t find him so cute. 

“You said you weren’t coming tonight,” Yamaguchi replies. 

Kei raises an eyebrow. “So you thought because I wasn’t there you’d just whore around?”

It’s an unfair thing to say. Yamaguchi doesn’t owe him anything. They’re not even really together. If Yamaguchi wants to hook up with other guys, he’s more than allowed to. 

But Kei feels jealous, and the jealousy is spilling out his lips. 

And shockingly, Yamaguchi doesn’t look upset. 

Instead, he looks weirdly… aroused?

Interesting.

Kei steps forward, wrapping a hand around the back of Yamaguchi’s neck and tugging him closer. 

“What do you want?” he whispers, his voice a bit softer than before. He’s teasing, but he’s also genuinely asking. He thinks he can read what Yamaguchi is putting out, but he doesn’t want to be wrong. 

Yamaguchi just whimpers. Fucking whimpers.

“Do you want me to punish you?” Kei asks, fingers tightening. “You’ve been bad. Now do you want to be punished?”

Yamaguchi doesn’t answer at first, just makes another small whimpering noise. But that’s not good enough. Kei needs verbal confirmation here before he can do anything. 

“Answer the question,” he snaps. "Use your words, Tadashi.”

Maybe it’s his stern tone of voice, or maybe it’s his use of Yamaguchi’s given name, but Yamaguchi gives in, letting out a loud and breathy, “Yes! Yes! I want you to punish me!”

Kei smiles. This is going to be fun.

He lets go of Yamaguchi’s neck and steps back from him. 

“Take off your clothes,” he instructs. “And get on the bed.”

Yamaguchi swallows nervously, and Kei traces the bob of his throat with his eyes. Finally, Yamaguchi nods. He flees into the bedroom, and Kei watches him go. He gives him a couple of minutes before following him in there. Luckily, Yamaguchi has followed his instruction. His clothes are neatly folded and placed on the desk, and Yamaguchi is sitting cross-legged on the bed. 

Kei just stares down at him for a second. He’s so pretty. So pretty and right now, all his. Kei realizes with a start that he doesn’t want to share him. He doesn’t want any other man’s hands on Yamaguchi. Ever. 

But he shoves the thought down. It isn’t time for that. Not now. He has other things on his mind. 

Kei kicks off his own shoes but leaves the rest of his clothes on before getting onto the bed. He goes right past Yamaguchi, settling down with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out. Yamaguchi just stares at him. 

“Come here,” Kei says. 

Yamaguchi starts to crawl towards him, but as he goes to climb onto Kei’s lap, Kei stops him. 

“On your stomach,” he clarifies. 

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t protest. He just lays down across Kei’s lap, ass perfectly propped up. Kei can’t help but place a hand down onto his skin, forcing a shiver out of Yamaguchi’s lips. He starts to knead at the flesh there, pulling his cheeks apart enough to expose his hole. Maybe Kei will fuck it later. He hasn’t decided yet. 

Kei doesn’t say what he’s about to do, but he thinks Yamaguchi gets the idea. Instead, he says, “If you want me to stop, just tell me. I’ll stop. Understand?” 

“Yes,” Yamaguchi replies, voice small. 

“Good boy. I think we’ll do ten. Can you count for me?”

“Yes,” he repeats.

Then Kei brings his hand down against Yamaguchi’s ass. 

Yamaguchi gasps, jerking forward a little bit. It takes a moment for him to speak, but finally, Yamaguchi lets out a breathy, “One.”

Kei stares down at the red mark on Yamaguchi’s cheek. It looks nice. It looks so nice. 

Kei slaps the other side. 

This time, Yamaguchi cries out a garbled sob before saying, “Two.”

Kei goes slowly, giving Yamaguchi time to recover before each hit. He wants to hurt him, but he doesn’t really want to hurt him. This is supposed to be fun, after all. He alternates cheeks, admiring the bright pink handprints that get more and more prominent with each slap. 

By the time he gets to eight, Yamaguchi is fully crying. But he doesn’t tell Kei to stop, so he doesn’t. He just lands two final smacks on each side of his ass, listening while Yamaguchi cries out the last two numbers. Once the final “Ten” has left his lips, Kei starts to stroke gently over the red marks, trying to soothe them. 

“Okay,” he says, voice quiet. “Up.”

He helps Yamaguchi onto his hands and knees, this time with Kei beside him. When he looks down, he notes that Yamaguchi’s cock is hard. Painfully so. 

He liked that, Kei realizes smugly. He really fucking liked that. 

“You did so good, baby,” he says. “Took that so well. Do you want your reward now?”

“Yes,” Yamaguchi sobs out. 

Kei grabs hold of his cock. Ideally, he would prefer to fuck Yamaguchi, or maybe suck him off, but he thinks Yamaguchi is too pent up for that. And he’s right—after barely a minute, Yamaguchi is coming all over Kei’s bedsheets with a loud, wet cry. Kei strokes him through it, only pulling away once he knows Yamaguchi must be overly sensitive. 

Kei knows that now it’s his turn. And he’s hard. He’s so hard it hurts, but he finds that his own arousal is simmering beneath the surface. He can attend to that later. Right now, he has something else more important to do. 

He pulls Yamaguchi into his lap, leaning back against the headboard and letting Yamaguchi lay his head against his shoulder. 

Kei presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to the side of his head. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. “Was that okay?”

“Yes,” Yamaguchi slurs. “”S good.”

“Okay.”

They sit in silence for a couple minutes, Yamaguchi panting against him. Finally, Yamaguchi lifts his head to meet Kei’s eyes and speaks again. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “for dancing with that other guy. I was…” He bites down on his bottom lip for a second, clearly embarrassed. “I was sad because you said you weren’t coming, and I thought that meant you didn’t want me. And I thought it might make me feel better if someone else did. But it didn’t help. All I could think about was you.”

“It’s okay.” Kei brushes some of Yamaguchi’s sweaty hair out of his eyes. “I—I’m sorry I made you feel that way. If it helps, all I could think about was you also.” A strangled laugh bursts free from his throat. “All I can ever think about is you, pretty much.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Does that— Does that mean you like me?”

Kei is bad at talking about his feelings, but Yamaguchi sounds so earnest. And he was just so vulnerable with Kei. He let him spank him, for god’s sake. The least Kei can do is be honest with him. 

“Yeah, Tadashi. I like you.”

“Do you, like, want to be my boyfriend?”

Kei fights back a blush and fails miserably. “Yes. I want to be your boyfriend.”

The smile that spreads across Yamaguchi’s face is one of the best things he’s ever seen, and any embarrassment he’d been feeling wipes away. 

“Good,” Yamaguchi says, leaning down and kissing Kei’s cheek. “Because I want to be your boyfriend also.”

Kei captures his lips in a gentle kiss, and they move against each other for a few minutes, soft caresses of their tongues and lips. Finally, Yamaguchi pulls back with a laugh. 

“What?” Kei asks. 

“This is going to be a terrible story to tell people.” He laughs again. “I mean, who confesses their feelings to someone after spanking them?”

Then, it’s Kei’s turn to laugh. He figures that Yamaguchi’s right: this is going to be a terrible story to tell people. But whatever. Kei doesn’t care. As long as he gets to have Yamaguchi, he doesn’t care about anything else. 

Chapter Text

 “Is it too tight?”

“No, kitten, it feels fine.”

“Are you sure? I could loosen them if it would—”

“Kenma,” Kuroo cuts him off. “They’re fine. I’m excited. You don’t need to be so nervous.”

Kenma feels his face heat up. He is nervous. It’s just that he and Kuroo have never done something like this before, and even though Kuroo had been so enthusiastic when discussing it, Kenma is terrified of doing something to hurt him. He knows that’s silly, though. Kuroo can take care of himself. He would tell Kenma if he was uncomfortable. 

“Okay,” Kenma says finally. “I’m going to take your pants off then.”

Kuroo’s lips draw up into a smirk. “Go for it, kitten.”

Kenma crawls forward on the bed, directly between Kuroo’s outstretched legs. Kuroo’s shirt has already been removed, and Kenma can’t help but stare at the way his muscles flex so perfectly as he sits with his arms above his head, handcuffed to the headboard. Kenma can’t imagine that the position is comfortable, but Kuroo isn’t complaining. And Kenma can’t complain about the view. 

Slowly, Kenma pops the button of Kuroo’s pants and tugs down the zipper, tucking his hands beneath the waistband and pulling them off, along with his boxers. He tosses them to the ground, turning back to look at a now very naked Kuroo. 

God, he’s so beautiful. 

Kenma is already naked himself, sitting on his knees between Kuroo’s legs. There’s something in the way Kenma’s hovering above him with Kuroo incapable of even touching him that makes Kenma’s blood run hot. 

He reaches for the bottle of lube they left on the bedside table, popping it open and slicking up his fingers. Kuroo watches him, his eyes dark. Even though nothing has happened yet, he already looks enthralled. He keeps his gaze locked on Kenma’s hand until Kenma snakes it behind himself, spreading his legs wider and starting to rub at his rim. 

“Come on, kitten,” Kuroo says, voice breathy. “Fuck yourself open for me.”

Kenma nods, slipping the first finger inside. He gasps at the intrusion, and Kuroo lets out a whooshing breath at the noise. Kenma pumps his finger in and out for a couple of minutes, grinding his hips back before sliding a second finger in with the first. He separates them, trying to stretch himself open. The whole time, he lets noises spill free from his lips. Sometimes, Kenma tries to be quiet, but the whole point of this exercise is for Kuroo to watch him and not be able to do anything. He has a feeling being loud will only make that better. 

Kenma uses his free hand to trace down his chest, taking hold of one of his nipples and squeezing it in that perfect way that makes pain and pleasure zing! down his spine. He shivers, moaning again, and this time, Kuroo moans as well. 

“Fucking hell, kitten,” Kuroo curses. “You look so hot like this.”

Kenma nods. He knows he looks hot, and he can’t even see himself. 

Kenma slips in a third finger. It’s probably a bit too early for that, but he doesn’t care. He’s ready to get to the main attraction here. He purposefully avoids his prostate, worried that if hits it, he’ll come too soon.

After a couple minutes of that, Kenma decides he’s ready. He pulls his fingers free, grabbing hold of the lube again and squirting some directly onto Kuroo’s already-hard cock. He grasps it, stroking him only a couple of times to get him slicked up. Kuroo moans at the sensation, starting to strain against his restraints. 

Finally, Kenma drops his cock, crawling forward and climbing onto Kuroo’s lap. He uses one hand to spread himself open while using the other to guide Kuroo’s cock to his opening before sinking down onto it. The stretch is perfect, just the way Kenma likes it, and he can’t help but groan the entire way down until Kuroo’s cock is fully seated inside of him. 

Kenma braces his hands against Kuroo’s sweaty chest, shaking the hair out of his eyes and looking down to meet Kuroo’s gaze. Kuroo looks literally feral, lips red and bitten and pupils so dilated his eyes look black. Kenma watches his hands open and squeeze closed above him, like he’s fighting to keep still. 

Kenma would like him to have to fight harder. 

He starts to bounce up and down, ignoring the way his thighs burn. Usually, Kenma doesn’t like being on top. He doesn’t like getting sore and sweaty. But he likes this. He likes being in control, and he likes the way Kuroo’s eyes roll back in his head and his hips start to push up instinctively. 

Kenma picks up his pace, starting to bounce even faster, meeting Kuroo on each thrust. He keeps his eyes open, focused on the way Kuroo is now literally pulling against the handcuffs like he’s trying to break free. 

“Kenma, fuck,” he groans out. “I—I need to touch you.”

Kenma’s lips turm up in a smile. Kuroo’s already begging. That’s fun. 

“Yeah?” Kenma says, slamming himself down on Kuroo’s cock. “Well, you can’t.”

Kuroo whines. Honest to god whines. 

“Please, kitten. Please. I can make you feel so good. I can make you come.”

“You think I need you to make me come? I think I can do that all on my own.” 

Kenma takes hold of his own cock, starting to jerk himself off, suddenly having to focus all of his energy on not coming right away. This handcuff thing is totally doing it for him, and he doesn’t want to come just yet. He wants to push Kuroo a little bit further. 

“Stop touching yourself,” Kuroo says. “I want to—”

Kenma angles his hips so Kuroo is hitting his prostate, and that combined with the stimulation on his cock pushes him even closer to the edge. Kenma moans so loudly it’s basically a scream, and Kuroo makes a punched-out, breathy noise in response. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, his voice firmer than Kenma’s heard it in a long time. “If you make yourself come, I swear to god I’m going to—”

Kenma just hits his prostate again, letting out another shout. 

“Take off the handcuffs,” Kuroo says suddenly, but his tone doesn’t sound panicked or uncomfortable. And it’s a gamble (and probably a bad decision), but Kenma decides to ignore him, just continuing to bounce on Kuroo’s cock while stroking himself off. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, but it comes out more like a growl. “Take. Off. The. Fucking. Handcuffs. Right now.”

His voice sounds murderous.

Scared for a moment that he’s made Kuroo angry by disobeying his first request, Kenma scrambles for the key, which he stuck beneath their pillow. He leans forward enough to unlock the handcuffs. Kuroo pulls his hands free, tossing the cuffs aside. 

Kuroo is on him in a second, grabbing Kenma and flipping them around so Kenma is on his back. He grabs Kenma’s thighs, pushing them back so Kenma is practically folded in half. He thrusts back inside of Kenma hard enough to make him scream, and then grabs hold of Kenma’s cock, starting to jerk him off fast and rough. 

“I’m the only one who gets to make you come, understand?” he says.

When Kenma doesn’t answer, he takes hold of Kenma’s hair and tugs it. “Understand?” he repeats. 

“Yes!” Kenma shouts. “Yes, you’re the only one who gets to make me come!

“Good. Good boy.”

Kuroo keeps up his brutal pace, and when he angles to hit Kenma’s prostate, Kenma comes. He’s pretty sure he blacks out for a second, and when he comes to, Kuroo has dropped his cock but is still fucking him. The overstimulation hurts a bit, but Kenma doesn’t mind. Actually, he kind of likes it. He likes that Kuroo is so desperate that he’s just using Kenma’s body, chasing his orgasm with no concern for Kenma’s pleasure. 

When Kuroo comes, it’s with a spectacular moan, his hips grinding forward. He pulls out a little bit before pushing forward again, fucking his cum deeper inside of Kenma. He looks down at where they’re connected, so finally, Kenma does too. He watches as Kuroo pulls out and cum drips out of his fluttering hole. They both stare for a second, breathing heavily. 

“Wait here,” Kuroo says, leaning down to peck a kiss to Kenma’s forehead before bolting off the bed. He grabs a wad of tissues before coming back and cleaning Kenma up. Once he’s finished, he tosses them into the trash and helps Kenma sit up. 

Once he’s caught his breath, Kenma looks up at Kuroo and scowls. “I cannot believe you made me take the handcuffs off after like five minutes. After you were the one that wanted to try them.”

Kuroo chuckles, kissing Kenma’s forehead one more time. “Sorry, kitten,” he says. “You were just too irresistible.”

And if that makes Kenma turn red like a tomato? 

Well, that’s nobody’s business but his own. 

Chapter Text

Tadashi’s eyes drift closed. His knees hurt, but he’s barely noticing. All he can focus on is the weight on his tongue, and the way his mind is blissfully blank. 

They’ve been like this for a while. 

Tadashi isn’t actually sure how long he’s been kneeling for. It feels like hours at this point. Hours since Tsukishima called him over and said, “I have an essay due tomorrow. Do you want to keep me warm while I work?” Hours since Tadashi had nodded furiously, grabbing a pillow to stick under the desk and getting into position. Hours since Tsukishima filled his mouth. 

It probably hasn’t been hours, in actuality. Maybe more like thirty minutes. But he doesn’t know. The point is that Tadashi doesn’t know, because when they do this, his brain gets all fuzzy, and that’s the point. 

It had been Tadashi who’d suggested they try out cockwarming a couple months before. He’d been doing some reading about it, and was fairly confident he’d like it, but Tsukishima had been a bit more apprehensive. 

“What’s the point?” he had said, waving Tadashi off. “Why would we do that when you could just give me a blowjob?”

Tadashi had launched into a long-winded explanation about dom/sub roles and subspace, and reluctantly, Tsukishima had agreed. The first time they tried it, Tadashi had been nervous that Tsukishima wouldn’t like it, but at the end, they’d both been pleasantly surprised by how much he had. And Tadashi had loved it, of course. 

Since then, it’s become one of their favorite pastimes. 

Tadashi floats, listening to the sound of Tsukishima breathing and the clacking of his keyboard. Abruptly, the clacking stops, and Tsukishima’s warm hands land in his hair, brushing through it and tickling Tadashi’s scalp. 

“You good down there?” Tsukishima asks, and Tadashi’s eyes open. He looks up just enough to catch Tsukishima’s gaze. 

Tadashi makes a humming noise of assent, tapping Tsukishima’s thigh once for yes. 

“Do you want to stop?” he asks. 

Tadashi taps his thigh twice for no. 

“Okay,” Tsukishima says. “I’ve only got a little bit left. Want me to fuck your mouth when I’m done?”

He taps once for yes. 

“Alright.” He removes his hands from Tadashi’s hair, looking back up at his computer, and the clacking starts up again. 

Tadashi lets his mind go blank again. When they’re doing this, he has nothing to think about. Nothing but being a good boy for Tsukishima. Being useful. And later, when Tsukishima wants to come, he’ll use Tadashi’s mouth in a different way, and he’ll love that too. 

His eyes drift closed. I could do this all day, he thinks. I could do this forever. 

Chapter Text

“‘Kaashi,” Koutarou moans out, hands dropping down to rest on Akaashi’s hips. 

“Hands off,” Akaashi snaps, and Koutarou obeys instantly, pulling his hands away to ball into fists at his sides. He knows better than to fight back against Akaashi when he’s in one of these moods. 

If he’s being honest, Koutarou loves when Akaashi is in one of these moods. Usually when they fuck, the power dynamic between them is pretty even. They both feed off each other’s energy, pushing and pulling control in a way that is playful and satisfying. But Koutarou can’t deny that he enjoys these times when Akaashi gets dominant. When he wants to push Koutarou around and tell him what to do. 

Normally, Koutarou wouldn’t consider himself much of a sub. But he can slip into that space when Akaashi is being rough like this with him. And Koutarou likes it. No, he loves it. 

“‘Kaashi,” he whines again. “Please? Please can I come?”

“No,” Akaashi says, and his voice is shockingly steady. He seems nearly unaffected, like he isn’t currently bouncing up and down on Koutarou’s cock, keeping an orgasm away from him. 

Technically, Koutarou could probably come whenever. Akaashi feels so good, and he’s certainly close enough that if he let himself, he could get there. But Akaashi had told him when they started that he wasn’t supposed to come until Akaashi told him to, and Koutarou isn’t interested in breaking the rules. He knows that if he gives Akaashi what he wants, Akaashi will give Koutarou what he wants in return. The orgasm will be even better, because he’s worked for it. 

“Can I touch you at least?” he asks, hands gripping tighter in their fists. It’s physically painful not to be able to hold Akaashi right now. All he wants to do is grab on tight to his waist, or wrap his arms around his neck, or maybe jerk him off, if Akaashi would like that. 

“I already said no, Koutarou.”

Koutarou whines, but Akaashi drops his head down to press a gentle kiss to the side of his neck. 

“Be a good boy,” he whispers. “Be a good boy for a little while longer and I’ll let you touch me. I’ll let you come.”

Koutarou nods. He can do that. 

He grabs onto the sheets to stop himself from grabbing Akaashi, keeping still and letting Akaashi ride him to his heart’s content. He still feels on edge, but now that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, Koutarou can control himself better. He just lays there and lets Akaashi take and take and take, and he has no idea how much time has passed before Akaashi is gasping out, “Okay, you can touch me now.”

Koutarou moves so fast it’s nearly comical, hands shooting up. One wraps around Akaashi’s hip, holding tight and helping him bounce while the other goes right to his cock. He starts jerking him off hard and fast, just the way he knows Akaashi likes it. 

Finally, Akaashi seems to lose his composure, head falling back and eyes wrenching closed. Koutarou speeds up even more, now lifting his hips and angling them so he’s hitting Akaashi’s prostate. 

When Akaashi comes, Koutarou barely sees it coming. Akaashi makes no noise, just lets his lips drop open in a silent cry. His bouncing becomes erratic as he spills all over Koutarou’s fist and stomach.

When he finally settles, he takes a big breath and opens his eyes to look at Koutarou.

“Now you can come,” he says. 

Koutarou doesn’t need to be told twice. He grabs onto Akaashi’s hips, slamming him downwards while thrusting his hips up. It only takes seconds for Koutarou to come, so worked up from everything that happened before. He knows he’s moaning too loudly, but Akaashi doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t tell him to be quiet, or to keep his hands off, or anything. Their game is over now, and even though Akaashi held the control, Koutarou can’t help but feel like he’s the one who won.

Chapter Text

Atsumu is being a drama queen. He knows he's being a drama queen. The problem is that he just can't stop. 

How else is really supposed to be responding to this, though? To his mate—his beautiful, perfect, completely fuckable mate—having a far-too touchy and sentimental reunion with his ex-boyfriend? 

And it's not just any ex-boyfriend. No, it's Kageyama Tobio. Hinata’s first boyfriend. His first love. The person who took his fucking virginity. The person that Hinata had thought was going to be his mate for multiple years. 

Now that they play on rival teams, Kageyama and Hinata don't see each other all that often, although they've remained friends. This is their first time seeing each other since Atsumu and Hinata became mates, and although Atsumu figures that should be easing his mind, it's actually just riling him up further. Because now, he has a tangible claim over Hinata. Hinata is literally his, and he doesn't like the way this other alpha is looking at his mate. He doesn't like the way this other alpha is completely fucking ignoring the claiming mark on Hinata’s neck. 

Atsumu watches off from the side while Kageyama and Hinata talk. Kageyama is in town just for the night, and Atsumu and Hinata had agreed to meet up with him at a bar for a single drink. Embarrassingly, Atsumu is on his third. 

When they first got to the bar, he started off standing with Hinata and Kageyama, but quickly felt like a third wheel, and ventured off to get the bartender’s attention and procure another drink. He got one more after that, and now he's just standing awkwardly drinking while his mate laughs at something Kageyama says, leaning forward and placing a hand on his arm. 

Atsumu sees red for a second, jealousy and anger pumping through his bloodstream. He forces himself to take a deep breath. Hinata does not have feelings for Kageyama. Hinata has feelings for him. Hinata is fucking bonded to him, for god’s sake. He’s just being a drama queen. He has no reason to be jealous. 

But he is anyway. 

Finally, Hinata seems to notice that Atsumu isn't with them, and he looks around confusedly before spotting him across the bar. He says something to Kageyama before making his way to Atsumu. 

“Hi,” he says breathily. 

“Are you having a good time?” Atsumu asks, fighting to keep his voice steady. 

“Yeah!” Hinata exclaims. “It's good to see Tobio again.”

Tobio. Fucking shit. 

“I'm kind of getting tired, though. You ready to head out?”

God, I thought he'd never ask. 

“Yeah,” Atsumu says, downing the rest of his drink and placing it down on the bar. He waits while Hinata goes back to Kageyama, giving him a hug goodbye. Atsumu catches Kageyama’s eyes and offers him a small wave. He's being rude, but he can't help it. 

Hinata rejoins him, sliding his hand into Atsumu’s and starting to tug him towards the exit. The two of them pop out onto the street and start walking towards their apartment. They don't live far, and they don't speak the entire walk. Not until they've gone inside and kicked off their shoes. 

“Are you alright?” Hinata asks in the silence of their apartment. 

Atsumu shrugs. He should be. He has no reason to not be alright. But he isn't, for some reason. 

“You're upset,” Hinata says, this time not as a question. Because he knows. He can read Atsumu so easily. “Because of Kageyama?”

“It's just…” Atsumu says, running a hand through his hair. “You loved him first.”

Hinata’s eyebrows draw together. “Yeah, but I love you now.”

“So you don't still have feelings for him?”

Hinata just stares for a moment, but then sputters out a laugh. “No,” he says. “I don't still have feelings for him.” He takes a step forward, pushing into Atsumu’s personal space and brings a hand up to cup his face. He has to press up on his tiptoes to whisper, “I’m yours, Atsumu.”

The words make Atsumu go literally crazy, and he can't stop himself from slamming their lips together, one arm wrapping around Hinata’s waist while the other hand wraps around the back of his throat, fingers resting over his claiming bite. 

He starts to walk them backwards toward their bedroom, only parting their lips long enough to whisper, “Mine.”

When they reach the bedroom, he breaks away from Hinata and yanks his own shirt over his head. He wastes no time in relieving Hinata of his as well, eyes raking down his beautiful, smooth skin. A bit rougher than usual, Atsumu shoves him down into the bed. 

“You're mine,” he says as he climbs on top of him. “Mine. No one else’s.”

“Yeah.” Hinata nods, his lips parting and eyes growing dark. “Just yours.”

His words just stoke the fire inside Atsumu’s belly even more. 

He practically rips Hinata out of his pants, pulling his own off as well until they're both completely naked. He flips Hinata onto his stomach before tugging up his hips and using both hands to spread his cheeks, exposing his perfect little hole, already wet with slick. 

Atsumu is going to fuck it open. 

He sinks one finger in right away, starting to pump it in and out, already feeling around for Hinata’s prostate. He hits it, relishing the way Hinata moans and seizes up around him. Then he hits it again and again, already bringing Hinata close to the edge. He stops before he can get there, though, sliding a second finger in and scissoring them apart to stretch his rim further. 

By the time he has a third finger inside, back to abusing Hinata’s prostate, Hinata is begging, crying out for an orgasm. Atsumu isn't going to give it to him, though. Not yet. 

He sinks in on one thrust. Hinata groans at the intrusion, but pushes his own hips back to meet Atsumu halfway, forcing him deeper. Atsumu can't help but grab onto his waist, digging his thumbs in hard enough that it'll hopefully leave marks. 

He starts to thrust in and out, starting up a punishing pace that has Hinata gasping and shouting each time Atsumu’s hips meet his ass. 

“‘Sumu,” he cries. “I—I—I need—”

“I'll tell you what you need,” Atsumu cuts him off. “You're mine. My omega. And you'll listen. To. Me.”

Hinata doesn't respond with words, just pushes his hips back even faster, fucking himself on Atsumu’s cock while constant screams leave his lips. It's perfect. He's perfect. 

Suddenly needing him closer, Atsumu wraps a hand around the front of Hinata’s throat and pulls him up so he's sitting on Atsumu’s lap, back to his chest, bouncing up and down on his cock. 

He drops his lips to Hinata's neck, kissing him once on his claiming bite before pulling back and letting his lips hover next to his ear. 

“I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this,” he rasps out. “The only one who gets to fuck you. Forever, Shouyou.”

Hinata whimpers, and Atsumu tightens his hand, not choking him, but close to it. 

“Say you understand,” he growls.

“I understand!” Hinata shouts. “I'm yours! To touch! To fuck!”

Yes. Yes, that's perfect. 

Atsumu reaches around, grabbing for Hinata’s cock, starting to stroke it in time with his thrusts. His own movements are starting to get erratic as he nears his own orgasm, and he can feel his knot starting to catch on Hinata’s rim. 

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands. 

“You!” Hinata yells “You, alpha!”

That does it. Atsumu’s knot pops out fully as he starts to come inside of his mate, hand speeding up on Hinata's cock and driving him over the edge as well. 

After they both come down from their highs, Atsumu manages to maneuver them around so he’s leaning back against their headboard, with Hinata in his lap, head leaning forward against Atsumu’s shoulder. 

Surprisingly, Hinata begins to laugh. 

“What?” Atsumu asks. “What is it?”

Hinata looks up to meet his eyes. “Nothing,” he says. “I should just get you jealous more often.”

Chapter Text

The bottle spins and spins and spins and finally, it comes to a halt. Tadashi picks up his eyes to see who it’s pointing at and—

Fucking shit. 

Out of everybody at this stupid fucking party, why did it have to land on him? 

Tsukishima Kei. The guy Tadashi was hooking up with before Tsukishima completely ghosted him a couple weeks back. He hadn’t said so much as a word, just stopped answering Tadashi’s texts and stopped saying hello to him on campus. Tadashi had been pissed enough when he showed up at this party and saw Tsukishima here, but now to have to play seven minutes in freaking heaven with him? That’s just torture. 

Tadashi doesn’t even know why he agreed to play this game. What are they, sixteen? They’re all in college. They’re supposed to be more mature than this. But somehow he’d been roped into it—dragged over by his friend Hinata—and of course, of fucking course, the bottle had to land on his sorta-kinda-not-quite ex-boyfriend. 

Who wasn’t ever really his boyfriend, but that’s beside the point. 

“Ooooooo,” this tall dude Bokuto says with a smile. “Tsukki and—” He turns to Tadashi. “What’s your name again?”

Tadashi cheeks flush. “Yamaguchi.”

“Tsukki and Yamaguchi! Up, up!” he cheers, grabbing at Tsukishima’s arm and pulling him up, already shoving him towards the closet. Tsukishima looks reluctant, and scowls as he gets pushed inside. 

“You too, man.” Bokuto turns to Tadashi. 

Tadashi has no desire to be dragged. He pulls himself up on slightly shaky legs and walks to the closet, slipping inside. Bokuto closes the door behind them. It’s one of those sliding ones, which sort of diminishes the dramatic effect that Tadashi figures he was going for. 

“Okay!” Bokuto shouts. “Starting the timer now! Enjoy!”

Finally, Tadashi turns to look at Tsukishima where he sits across from him. There’s light streaming in from the slats on the door, and Tadashi can see that Tsukishima’s lips are tugged down into a severe frown. He's pointedly avoiding Tadashi’s eye contact. 

“So—” Tadashi starts, but he's barely gotten out a word before Tsukishima interrupts him. 

“Do you have to talk? Can we just sit in silence?”

Tadashi feels his own mouth form a frown, his eyes narrowing. “Why are you acting pissed? You're the one who ghosted me,” he whispers. He's angry now, but he doesn't need everybody at this party overhearing him. 

“I did not ghost you,” Tsukishima scoffs.

“You definitionally ghosted me!” Tadashi whisper-shouts. “You're a real asshole, you know that, right? Would it have been so hard to just tell me to my face that you didn't want to hook up with me anymore?”

Tadashi thinks he hears Tsukishima mumble out, “Yes,” but it could just have been his imagination. 

Suddenly, Tadashi’s mouth is running wild, and he can't rein it in. He’s a little drunk and more than a little pissed off about this whole situation. And he wants it to be Tsukishima's problem. 

“Was I that bad at sex, or something?”

Finally, Tsukishima meets his eyes. His mouth drops open in a small, surprised o. 

“What?” he asks. 

“Was I, like, terrible at sex? Is that what it was?” 

“No,” Tsukishima says, the word out his mouth before Tadashi has even finished his question. “Why would you think that?”

“Why else would you ghost me?”

Tsukishima doesn’t answer. Instead, he just closes the distance between them and smashes their lips together, one hand coming up to tangle in Tadashi’s hair. 

Tadashi breaks away to say, “Wha—” but Tsukishima cuts him off. 

“Shut up, Tadashi,” he says, voice deep and rough, and then he goes back to kissing Tadashi like he’s oxygen and Tsukishima has been struggling to breathe. 

Tadashi can’t help but grab onto the fabric of Tsukishima’s shirt, pulling him tighter and closer. His tongue slips into Tsukishima’s mouth. Tsukishima tastes like vodka and mint and something else that’s just him that Tadashi has been missing for weeks. 

“You’re not bad at sex,” Tsukishima whispers. “That’s not what happened. It’s not that I don’t want you. Do you want me to show you how much I want you?”

Tadashi doesn’t think. He doesn’t think about the fact that they’re basically in public, in a closet at a party with a bunch of people mere feet away. He doesn’t think about how well he can hear them, which means if he makes too much noise, they’ll be able to hear him as well. He doesn’t think about any of that. All he thinks about is how desperately he wants Tsukishima’s hands on him right now. 

He nods, whining against Tsukishima’s lips, and before he can prepare himself, Tsukishima’s hand is undoing the button of his jeans and slipping into the front of them, wrapping around his already-hard cock, and starting to pump it hard and fast. Tadashi stifles a moan, but his efforts don’t matter, because Tsukishima slams his free hand over Tadashi’s mouth, effectively silencing him. 

“Quiet,” he instructs. “I don’t want anyone else to hear you.”

There’s something possessive in Tsukishima’s tone that twists up Tadashi’s insides. He finds that he wants to be possessed like that. He wants Tsukishima to want him, and only him. And he wants Tsukishima to want nobody else to have Tadashi either. 

Tsukishima’s hand speeds up, and he brings his lips to the side of Tadashi’s throat, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting down. Tadashi yelps, but it’s muffled by the hand over his mouth. He’s helpless to do anything but take it while Tsukishima strokes him into oblivion and sucks marks all the way down his neck. 

When he reaches the top of Tadashi’s shoulder, Tsukishima disconnects his lips, bringing them back up to hover over Tadashi’s ear. 

“I want you,” he pants, his voice breathy like he’s the one being jerked off. “I want you all the fucking time. You’re all I can think about. You drive me insane, Tadashi.”

Then why’d you ghost me? Tadashi longs to ask, but he can’t. Partially because there’s a hand over his mouth, and partially because he’s pretty much incapable of forming full sentences right now. All he can manage is another whine, stifled by Tsukishima’s palm. 

“I want to fuck you,” Tsukishima says. “God, I want to fuck you so bad. I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my fucking life.”

Tadashi’s lips fall open in a silent cry. 

Fuck me! he wants to shout. Right now. Right here.

And just as he’s thinking that he’s going to force Tsukishima’s hand off his mouth and literally beg for it, he hears an alarm go off. 

“Hey, lovebirds!” Bokuto shouts through the closet door. “Time’s up. Come on out!”

Oh fuck. 

They freeze. Clearly, they both forgot that they’re basically in public. And now they’ve got to get out of the closet without anyone finding out what they just did in here. 

And Tadashi is so hard it hurts. Fucking great.

Tsukishima pulls his hand out of Tadashi’s pants and redoes the button, wiping some precum off on his pants. He drops his hand from Tadashi’s mouth, but it’s only a second later that he’s grabbing Tadashi’s hand and yanking him up, pulling the sliding closet door open. 

Tadashi resists the urge to cover his crotch. All he can do is hope that his jeans are stopping his raging erection from being visible. 

“How was—” Bokuto starts, but then his eyes widen as they land on Tadashi. “Oooo, what’s on your neck?”

Tadashi shoots one hand up to cover the hickies. He opens his mouth to give some excuse, but Tsukishima speaks first. 

“We’re leaving,” he announces and starts tugging Tadashi through the party. Several people hoot and holler after them, but Tsukishima pays it no mind, just keeps dragging Tadashi outside and then down the street towards his dorm. 

But now that his head is a little clearer, Tadashi has something he needs to ask. 

“Tsukki,” he says, pausing his feet and tugging Tsukishima’s arm to get him to turn around. “If you— If you want me like that then why’d you ghost me?” His voice grows quiet to say, “It hurt me. Did you know that?”

Tsukishima’s face usually oscillates between two expressions: blank and annoyed. But for the first time, he looks nearly regretful. 

Then he says something that Tadashi never could have predicted. Not in a million years. 

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“Wh—What?” Tadashi sputters. 

“I think I fell in love with you. Which was not the plan.” His eyebrows draw together. “And I’m aware that you don’t feel that way about me, so I—”

“How do you know that I don’t feel that way about you?”

Tsukishima freezes. “Do you?”

Tadashi rolls his eyes. “You’re such an idiot.” He pushes forward, reaching down to take one of Tsukishima’s hands. “Yes. Yes, I feel that way about you.”

“Oh,” Tsukishima says. “That’s good.” 

His clinical words make Tadashi laugh, but once his laughter has trailed off, he leans forward and captures Tsukishima’s lips in a soft kiss. When he pulls back, he says, “Do you want to go finish what we started?”

And he clearly doesn’t have to ask Tsukishima twice.