Work Text:
“Rock!”
“Paper!”
“Paper!”
“Fuck!” Atsumu scrubs his hands through his hair in frustration as Kuroo and Bokuto whoop and high five in victory. They’re so excited that Bokuto poofs and transforms into his great horned owl form to do a victory lap around the office before transforming back. Kuroo opens the closet to fish out the bright red maid costume and he smacks it against Atsumu’s chest.
“Have fun out there, handsome!”
Atsumu sticks his tongue out at the both of them, to which they cackle and resume packing orders and fiddling with the desktop computer. Atsumu didn’t think working for the blood donation organization would involve maid costumes, but it’s somehow not surprising if Bokuto and Kuroo are involved.
He started the part time job a month ago, transitioning from blood donor to an employee of the blood delivery services while juggling his classes at university. It’s basically a meal delivery program; the demand for human blood was too high and placed too much stress on the blood donor drives to supply enough for human transfusions alongside magical being demands. The hospital just recently came up with the program to reroute animal’s blood from farms and meat production centres that was normally discarded to be bagged, stored, and sold to vampires and other magical folk that need it to stay alive. Bokuto and Kuroo were his fellow volunteers donating blood in their human forms and, noticing their dedication, the board members roped all three of them into providing the service.
They keep track of shipments coming in from the meat industry as well as packaging shipments out to more remote locations for those that don’t live in the heart of the city; otherwise, they take turns being delivery boys each day to get the bagged blood to whichever supernatural being has ordered it.
So now after all those dominoes have fallen, he’s here – on the sidewalk outside of their little office next to the regional hospital, just after the sun has set, in a red and white maid costume with thigh high white socks and black Mary Jane heels to match, handing out flyers for their delivery service. A frilly white lace headband with teardrops made out of red LED lights perches on top of his blonde mop of hair.
Atsumu tugs at the skirt to make sure it doesn’t ride up too high and plasters on a customer service smile bright enough to rival the neon lights that begin to flicker on behind him.
He’s met with a few supernatural species over the course of the evening, although he’s out here at night because the chance to advertise to a vampire and other supernatural beings is much higher than during the day. Some humans, like him, take flyers for blood donation opportunities instead. The first otherworldly beings he meets is a duo of witches, one of which is bestseller novelist of Witchcraft and Wine, a cookbook, and the second witch is the one who owns the enchanted flower shop a few streets over. Atsumu has already met these two before – Akaashi Keiji and Kozume Kenma, paramours of the two idiots working with him.
“This is quite the promotion technique, Atsumu-san,” Akaashi says, plucking a loose thread from Atsumu’s shoulder. He shrugs and does a dramatic twirl.
“Hopefully it’ll get some subscribers of the vampire kind. How ya been, Akaashi? Congrats on the success of the book.” Bokuto in owl form shoots out of the door to land on Akaashi’s shoulder, who pets him and thanks Atsumu for the praise.
Kenma plucks a primrose from the bouquet he’s holding to tuck into Atsumu’s headband, who snorts at the meaning of the flower language.
“’M not that desperate, Kozume-kun, c’mon. I’ll have you know I’m only out here in this get up ‘cause I lost rock paper scissors. Coulda’ been Kuroo on any other day. Gimme a four-leaf clover next time, wouldja?” Kenma crouches to scoop up Kuroo in his black cat form to give him a few scratches under the chin.
“Can you guys get back to work, please?” Atsumu whines. “’S not fair you get a whole different form to take for a break. I can’t change into anythin’.” He gets thwapped in the face by a stray wing when Bokuto and Kuroo swoop back into the office.
Akaashi laughs politely behind his hand. “We’ll see you around, Atsumu-san. Good luck.” Atsumu curtseys, always with the flair for drama, and waves them off.
The next supernatural being is an incubus who suddenly appears alarmingly close just as Atsumu is turning from facing one side of the sidewalk to the other.
“My, how cute,” the incubus purrs, toying with Atsumu’s hem, and Atsumu feels the sway of overwhelming attraction characteristic of interacting with an incubus. He fights it and lifts up a flyer to separate them, ruffling the bangs of the perfectly styled brown hair of the other man with how fast he lifts the paper.
“Blood delivery, hm? How about you deliver something else for me, darling?” The incubus draws the first layer of Atsumu’s skirt up, the pull of the incubus stronger with every inch it shifts, but Atsumu breathes a sigh of relief when the incubus is shoved out of the way by a werewolf who just exited the convenience store across the street.
“Oikawa! Leave him alone, you know humans can’t resist you when you’re using that level of power. Knock it off.” He bows in apology to Atsumu, dragging off Oikawa without missing a beat.
“Oh, come on, Iwa-chan, you know my heart’s promised to you, he was just too cute in that dress!”
The first vampire he advertises to is one that looks his age, although he’s probably older – you never know, with immortals. He’s handsome, with the trademark pale skin and dark curling bangs framing two moles that make Atsumu think of bite marks. He’s wearing a black turtleneck with matching slim slacks and a long beige wool coat with a black cloth mask stretched over his face. Gold wire frame glasses perch on his nose.
Atsumu smiles and steps towards him, flyer extended. “Hi, sir!”
The vampire looks a little tired now that he’s up close, eyebags clear in the sunset as he scowls at the flyer. It would be easy to mistake him for another human being; most vampires don the mask so the fangs don’t startle people, even in this society with integrated supernaturals. If he was human, maybe Atsumu would try asking him out.
He scolds himself inwardly for thinking such – there’s plenty of interspecies relationships, having seen three different couples today already, and this puts a pep in his step for maybe having a chance with handsome vampire here. For some supernaturals, feeding and fucking are tied together, but they aren’t always like that. Atsumu wonders if he’s fed recently, and the back of his mind murmurs ask and see.
He does not.
He does, however, rattle off the spiel about their hospital and government backed service to supply supernaturals with humanely (ha!) obtained blood and an alternative to human blood if they’re looking for the convenience. There aren’t a lot of humans out there sitting and openly volunteering to get bitten – there’s night clubs for that, for the hunting and the hunted.
Not that Atsumu’s been to one. The entry fees can be kinda expensive.
“What’s the quality of the blood? Is it tested? Do you store it in house?” The vampire gestures at the office where Kuroo and Bokuto are watching them without any subtlety. “What’s the collection method and sanitization at the industry level? What’s the delivery system, handling, and the storage of the bagged blood like?”
He’s somewhat taken aback by the sudden flurry of questions, but Atsumu did not go through his three week long training for nothing. If anything, he’s grateful for the conversation and engagement rather than people grabbing the flyers and then tossing them into the recycling bin a few blocks down. Another point to beautiful vampire.
“The animal blood is tested routinely at the farms upon collection for bacterial and viral infections before bein’ bagged in their industrial plants and shipped to us here, and they discard any positive tests for infectious diseases. We get updates from their database of animals daily. The bagged blood is stored in refrigerators we have here in office for up to 42 days at six degrees Celsius. We deliver through the postal office to rural regions in insulated Styrofoam boxes with some dry ice to keep things cold. Otherwise, if you’re within drivin’ distance from here, we deliver to your door, and the blood is kept in cooler bags with ice packs. You can call us or place an order via the website,” Atsumu finishes, pointing at the web address on the flyer.
“Delivery to the door in this specific uniform?” Although satisfied with the responses, the vampire looks a little concerned for him through his frown, which is hilarious and sweet. Atsumu laughs and shakes his head.
“No, this is for promotion and a bad result of rock paper scissors.” He picks at the lace on the apron. “We have uniforms like the ones those guys are wearin’ in there.” Atsumu jerks his thumb over to point at Bokuto and Kuroo, who wave amicably in their black and red polo shirts.
“I could wear it for ya when I deliver, if you’d like,” Atsumu adds, wiggling his eyebrows. The vampire snorts.
“Would it cost more?” His expression freezes, as if he didn't mean to say it out loud.
“Not for you, handsome, all you’d have to do is put it on the Additional Notes box when you’re orderin’,” Atsumu says, which makes Vampire continue to stare at him with a frown, doubtful.
“I think I’ll spare both myself and you the humiliation.”
“Aw, but it’s so pretty, don’tcha think?”
“I thought it was a lost bet and an unfortunate outcome.”
“You’ll change my mind on it, if you say you like it.” The vampire shrugs.
“The novelty wears off when you’ve had people working for you and that was their uniform at the time,” he says, and doesn’t elaborate further. “You look good in it, though; much better than the maids I knew. Can I get your name? I’d like to put a word in with your manager for answering all my questions.”
Smooth. Atsumu balks for half a second before smirking, sly. “I’m Miya Atsumu,” he says, popping his hip a little so the skirt flares. “And you are?”
He pulls a little notebook and pen from the inside breast pocket of his jacket to write down the name and Atsumu is immediately endeared by the old-fashioned gesture.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi. Thank you for your time; I’ll place an order shortly through the website,” Sakusa says, and walks off, which stuns Atsumu because he realizes he actually meant that, the manager comment.
Wait, shit. He didn’t get Sakusa’s number. Does he even have a cellphone?
Bokuto and Kuroo yank him back inside.
“Tsum-Tsum! Who was that?” Bokuto grins, reaching to adjust the headband so it sits properly. Atsumu tears it off his head and kicks off the heels, calves a little sore from standing around for so long.
“His name’s Sakusa Kiyoomi, do either of ya know him? Hot vampire.” They shake their heads no and Atsumu sighs while pulling at the bow of the apron at his back.
“Managed to get the name but not a number, huh, Atsumu,” Kuroo says, a teasing grin on his face. Atsumu swats at him with one heel in his hand.
“’Tsumu, whatcha wearin’?” The bell on the door chimes as Osamu walks in with some Tupperware. Kuroo and Bokuto pounce on him for food.
“Lost a rock paper scissors game to these guys. What’d ya bring?” Atsumu pushes Kuroo out of the way to grab a rice ball.
“Just leftovers from the hospital cafeteria. Think they had less donors today, sent me back to class with what I made. I got an offer to help design the rotating menu the hospital is planning,” Osamu says, and Atsumu hums in interest through his mouthful of rice.
“Get us some gourmet shit, ‘Samu.”
“These rice balls are as gourmet as you’re gonna get. Salmon fillet? Roe? So spoiled. Although maybe the hospital food would mean y’all would get your balanced diet, we have to spend so long talking about the nutrition facts.” Osamu rolls his eyes when Bokuto and Kuroo take offense to the insult about their diets.
“Mice and birds don’t count, idiots.”
The desktop computer dings with a notification and Bokuto sits in the spinning office chair to roll over to it with alarming speed.
“Got a couple of orders one of us needs to deliver tonight,” he says. “Oh – actually, for Atsumu to deliver.”
“Why me? I just got finished standin’ outside in heels for an unholy amount of time, why can’t it be one of you? Or both of you, to give me some peace n’ quiet.”
“Koutarou’s trying to get you to do some unholy things, alright,” Kuroo says, and Osamu’s face scrunches up in disgust without any more information.
“I don’t know if I even wanna know,” he says.
Bokuto waves them over anyway. “Tsum-Tsum met a real pretty vampire earlier today on the sidewalk. Sakusa, right?” He points at the name on the online order form and yes, indeed, it does say Sakusa Kiyoomi.
The order is 2 bags of cow’s blood; the Additional Notes section of the ordering page simply says: “Send Atsumu.”
Bokuto glances up at Atsumu from over his shoulder, eyes wide. “It was nice knowing you, bro.”
Kuroo claps him on the shoulder and says, “I think we have a vial of holy water somewhere? Pour it on his dick just in case he actually tries to eat you while you’re doin’ it.”
“There’s also condoms in the storage room, the university’s student groups haven’t moved them yet,” Bokuto says to Kuroo, who’s in the back room moving things around. Atsumu glances at Osamu, who raises his hands and says, “I do not want to know about any of this. I’m leaving. Don’t die, bye.”
“Shoulda’ known better than to think ‘Samu would take my side against you two,” Atsumu sighs to the chime of the door opening and closing as Osamu goes back to their apartment. He then gets pelted in the face by a myriad of colourful condom and lube packets. He stands up from collecting them off the floor in time to catch the little bottle of water Kuroo tosses at him as well.
“Is this actually holy water?” Atsumu flips the bottle back and forth to watch the water slosh around.
“Yeah, some priest came by last week while you were out to give us some and asked us to be careful with our delivery shifts. He was happy that the farm animals weren’t ‘wasted’. I was a little tempted to transform to spook him, but he seemed like he was genuine, so.” Kuroo shrugs and reaches into a little cardboard box to fish out a small handful of vials similar to the one Atsumu’s holding.
Bokuto considers the vials. “Hey, how many of those would it take to fill a bottle?” Kuroo perks up and starts dumping out a bottle of water into the sink of the bathroom.
“Wait, stop,” Atsumu says. “Don’t waste the water. ‘M pretty sure you can make more holy water with what you’ve got right now.”
“Seriously?” Bokuto swivels around to look at him, eyes wide.
Atsumu nods. “Somethin’ about adding regular water to it but you can’t add more regular water than there is holy water. So like, less than half, I think?” He shrugs. “I dunno, Google it. But before you slack off, help me pack up the orders.” Kuroo gives a theatrically tired groan but they resume what they’re actually paid to do.
Atsumu gets changed into their regular uniform and hops in the car for a round of deliveries in the city. A few orders to witches, some to a little family of kappa, and a few bags to a single vampire mother with a young child. Most of the people he delivers to are people who are simply trying to adjust to a new normal with humans, so they’re always polite and tip what they can. Atsumu figures that this is the best it can get with a food delivery service job.
Sakusa’s placed the last order of the night before their office closes, so he’s the last delivery as well. Atsumu zips up the cooler and taps at his phone while in the driver’s seat and dials the number to their office.
Kuroo picks up. “Yo, Atsumu. You done for the night?”
“Sakusa’s the last one,” Atsumu says, to a round of wolf whistling from the both of them.
“You want us to clock you out when we clock out?”
“Yeah, if you could enter my hours that’d be great.”
“No prob. Hey, you should show up at his doorstep with the maid outfit on, he seemed to like it,” Kuroo says. “All wrapped up in a bow for him, yeah?”
“Way ahead of ya, losers.” Atsumu smirks. He hears Bokuto open the closet door and whoop because the costume isn’t there – it’s in the trunk of the car. Atsumu never really fully changed out of it. The long socks, underneath his pants, itch a little at the knee.
Kuroo whistles, impressed. “Atsumu, didn’t think you had it in ya. Get some. Be safe though – if you need us, Kou and I will be having a Mario Kart marathon, we accidentally erased our save data and gotta unlock everything again.”
Atsumu laughs. “I’ll call ya if there’s an emergency. See you guys on Monday.” He drives towards Sakusa’s address, stopping by his apartment to quietly pick up a set of normal clothes first and to slip into the dress.
Atsumu presses the buzzer outside of the apartment, fidgeting a little when a breeze ruffles his skirt.
“Hello?”
“Two bags of blood here,” Atsumu says, “and followed the instructions on the notes.” The line drops without another word from Sakusa and the door unlocks. Atsumu strolls in, heels clunking gently against the carpet in the lobby. The mermaid receptionist glances up at him from behind the counter which is converted into a very large tank, to shoot him a smile and wave him towards the elevators when he holds up the cooler bag hung on his shoulder. He glances at his phone with the order and takes the elevator up to the 15th floor, peering at the numbers on the doors until he reaches 1206.
Atsumu takes a steadying breath and knocks on the door. He hears footsteps and then the door’s opening, revealing Sakusa standing in the same clothes as when they met hours ago on the sidewalk. Sakusa blinks when Atsumu starts unzipping the bag to hand over his purchase.
“And that’ll be $27.50,” Atsumu says, fishing out a card machine from one of the bag pockets. “Debit or credit?”
Sakusa pulls out his wallet and pays with a credit card, and Atsumu dutifully packs it all away before extending the bagged blood over the threshold. Sakusa takes them but raises one eyebrow at Atsumu, a silent question at the maid costume and not the regular red and black polo shirt with slacks.
Atsumu fiddles with the bag strap. “Honestly, I was tryin’ to come up with a pizza boy porn line, something about having ordered sausage and relating it to vampires, but I’ve got nothin’,” he confesses, which makes Sakusa laugh. Atsumu sees the flash of sharper than usual canines in his smile.
“That’s fine. You’re cute.” Atsumu feels himself flush at the compliment.
“This,” Sakusa gestures with one hand at the costume, “is more than I expected. I didn’t have my cellphone on me when we met – I keep forgetting it here, and forgetting my own number, sometimes. I was hoping to get your number when you showed up here, but –“
Atsumu freezes up, feeling like someone’s dumped cold water on him. His heart pounds. His brain tunes out Sakusa for a moment because he’s misread this whole thing, hasn’t he? The flirting on the sidewalk and the note, it wasn’t flirting at all, was it? What the fuck was he thinking and what is he doing here in a maid costume?
“– this is good, too,” Sakusa continues, giving Atsumu an appreciative look over. His dark eyes glint with something sultry and encouraging.
“Wait, you just wanted my number and not – not all this?” Atsumu mimics Sakusa’s gesture at the dress.
Sakusa looks a little shy, now. It’s a new expression versus the perpetual scowl. “I wanted to court you. Properly.” Atsumu’s heart pounds for an entirely different reason. He wants to laugh a bit at the formal phrasing but Sakusa isn’t done.
“Couldn’t do that without your number, of course,” Sakusa says. “But now you’re here, which is much better than through text. Are you done your shift?”
Atsumu’s fears are done away with when he nods and Sakusa opens the door wider. Sakusa backs into his apartment, gesturing for Atsumu to come in while he stores the blood in his fridge.
Atsumu half expects the place to have cobwebs and coffins, but it’s sparkling clean and furnished with contemporary furniture. He toes off his heels in the entryway and sets his cooler bag down next to them.
“Let’s discuss this first,” Sakusa says, pouring some tea from a pot on the stove for the both of them and settling in on his couch. Atsumu takes a second to sweep one hand over the back of his skirt to sit properly.
“Discuss sex or courting?” Atsumu curls his hands around his mug.
Sakusa chuckles. “Both. And also if you want to be bitten or not. Like I said, I’d like to court you, and to get to know you better, and I like sex. Even more so with biting and feeding. You obviously came here with a purpose,” smirking when Atsumu snorts as if to say duh. “I’d just like to be clear on what we want here tonight.”
Atsumu takes a sip of tea for his mouth suddenly going dry. “I’d like to date. That’s what modern society calls it, Omi-kun,” he says, enjoying the way Sakusa raises an eyebrow and tips his chin up slightly at the nickname.
“I can assure you I’m not that old. I just don’t have contact with multiple people, which is what dating is nowadays. That’s not really my thing, personally; I think it’s clear that I don’t really do any of that – don’t really go out, in general, even to those kinds of nightclubs.” He swirls his tea in his mug. “Your blood delivery service is another modern convenience I appreciate.”
Atsumu nods. “I’ve never been bitten by a vampire before. Thought about it when I met ya. I’ve always been curious, so I’d like to while we’re in the salacious act. I didn’t get all dolled up for nothin’, Omi-Omi.” Sakusa nods in agreement.
Atsumu pauses. “You won’t like, drain me like a yogurt tube, right?” This makes Sakusa snort loudly.
“Of course not. Just enough to get me going. If you want an estimate, I’d say about 10 to 15 millilitres.” He raises his hand and counts off on his long fingers. “Biting and feeding is good, dating is good, are you okay with me touching you? Would you rather top?”
Atsumu feels his hunger for this sharpen, as if each word Sakusa speaks hones the edge of it. “I like both. Although I want you to top tonight.” Sakusa nods again, then sets his mug down on the coffee table next to them.
“Did you want to do this here, or in my bedroom?” Sakusa stands and Atsumu almost misses the table while also putting his mug down because he’s staring at the shift of Sakusa’s broad shoulders taper to a slim waist underneath the turtleneck. The air between them feels charged as they size each other up.
Sakusa holds out a hand. Atsumu rises to take it, and glances down the hallway towards the bedroom. He leads Sakusa over to the dining table instead and hops up onto it, legs swinging off the edge. He spreads his knees to accommodate Sakusa’s hips as he slots himself between them.
“Bon appetit,” he says, and Sakusa catches his laughter with a kiss. He smooths one hand along Atsumu’s neck to kiss him hot and slow, tongue sweeping deep into Atsumu’s mouth. His other hand slides up Atsumu’s thigh to trace Atsumu’s hardening erection with his fingertips and then with his palm. Atsumu runs his hands from the small of Sakusa’s back to clutch at his shoulders, shifting his hips to meet Sakusa’s touch.
He lets go to stick one hand into the apron pocket and pull out the packets of lube and condoms he’s stored there to toss onto the table. Sakusa hums, leaning in more into their kisses to push Atsumu to lay down.
Sakusa flips the front of Atsumu’s skirt up and makes a noise of pleased surprise at the white panties Atsumu’s changed into. There’s a small red teardrop bead at the centre of the waistband.
“Figured it lined up with the theme,” Atsumu says, and Sakusa breathes a laugh against his cock when he sits down at the dining table chair. He pulls Atsumu’s hips to the edge, then opens his mouth to take the waistband by the teeth, sucking the bead into his mouth. The tips of his canines pierce the lace as it stretches to free Atsumu’s erection. Atsumu lifts up so the panties can be pulled down his legs and they tumble to the floor when Sakusa brushes them down.
“Can I use my mouth on you?” Sakusa runs his lips up the side of his cock and hovers over the tip.
“Yeah, of course, hurry up,” Atsumu says, and Sakusa pushes his glasses up onto his head where they tangle with his curls and Atsumu’s hands. It shouldn’t be that hot, that gesture, but it is. Atsumu forces himself up into a seated position, fingers fumbling when he tries to extract the glasses because Sakusa’s mouth is hot and wet and good, so good.
He mumbles this out loud and Sakusa smiles, a little wild, circling one hand around the base where he can’t quite reach with his mouth and bears down while pumping his hand to meet halfway, sucking hard. Atsumu fights to keep his eyes open to watch Sakusa. One stockinged foot braces against the back of the chair over Sakusa’s shoulder.
He groans deep from his chest when Sakusa lifts up and skims the twin points of his fangs up the side of his cock, grin slick and triumphant. He fits one hand around Sakusa’s jaw to lift his mouth to meet his and to get a feel for those fangs with his tongue. Sakusa continues to pump his cock and adds a twist on the upstroke that makes Atsumu’s toes curl. He pants against Sakusa’s lips, small wrecked noises spilling from his mouth that signal he’s getting close to orgasm.
Sakusa slows down and pushes Atsumu back again while reaching for a condom and lube. Atsumu swallows thickly and tries to catch his breath. He watches Sakusa above him open a condom and spread it over his fingers, then tear open the corner of a lube packet with his teeth to press some onto the condom and onto the hand holding the lube packet.
Atsumu quirks an eyebrow and Sakusa shrugs. Sakusa presses his fingers against Atsumu and circles his fingers back around his cock. “Cleaner for me, plus not as much lube used up. Okay? Edging is okay?” he asks, touch feather light.
“Yeah, Omi-kun. S’good.” Atsumu’s head knocks back on the table with a thump and his headband slides off when Sakusa presses in slowly and moves his hand along his cock just as slow. Everything else fades out; all of his senses narrow to Sakusa opening him up with those long, long fingers, and the fingers of his other hand drawing up and down slowly so that Atsumu climbs to the precipice steadily, a spark following a winding path of gunpowder to the promise of an explosive finish.
Atsumu whines when Sakusa’s hand drops to the base of his cock to squeeze and hold off his orgasm. He feels undone and unravelled, clenching around three fingers.
“Omi-kun, c’mon, please, I think I can feel my heartbeat in my dick.”
Sakusa laughs and lets go, merciful. He draws his fingers out slowly after scissoring them once or twice and discards the condom. “Alright. I know we agreed that I’ll top, but I need to bite before that can happen.” Atsumu glances at his crotch and thinks Sakusa’s been half hard for twice as long as Atsumu’s been hard.
Sakusa’s nose trails from the corner of his jaw down to where his shoulder meets his neck. Atsumu squirms because it tickles.
“Where would you like me to bite you?” Sakusa murmurs in his ear, followed by a gentle bite to his collarbone.
Atsumu leans back to look at him and taps at Sakusa’s exposed fangs with his fingers. “Don’t vampires usually bite on the neck?”
Sakusa chuckles, low and amused. “We do, but what would you prefer? It could be the neck, or,” and pulls Atsumu’s wrist to his mouth to kiss the vein, blue underneath the skin. “Here,” he continues, and trails his way up to the soft skin at the fold of Atsumu’s elbow, “or here,” and moves back to drop his mouth to Atsumu’s knee where the stocking cinches to nip there.
“Wherever you like,” Sakusa breathes against his skin. “Whatever you want, Atsumu.”
Atsumu swallows, feeling slightly intoxicated from the focus Sakusa has on him. He sits up from the table and pushes at Sakusa’s shoulders so he sits back down on the chair while Atsumu slides from the tabletop onto his lap. Sakusa grunts with the weight and heat of Atsumu pressed onto his half hard groin and rolls his hips to meet Atsumu’s, spitting away a stray layer of Atsumu’s hem that gets caught in his face with a feral shake of his head.
Atsumu laughs and slides his hands into Sakusa’s curls. He likes the look of Sakusa’s chin tilted up towards him. “Neck, please, Omi-kun. Here,” he says, and tips his head to one side to expose it. Sakusa leans in to suck gently at the spot and Atsumu tries to suppress a shiver when he feels the points of his fangs press against his artery. He hears his pulse pound in his ears and wonders if Sakusa can hear it, too.
“Please,” Atsumu whispers, and Sakusa bites down.
The sting of it is sweet and sharp and a throaty moan tears from the base of Atsumu’s throat when he feels Sakusa start to suckle and drink from his neck. The movement of blood out of his neck into the waiting fangs is inexplicable. Sakusa matches Atsumu with a deep groan when he tastes the iron, soothing the bite that’s starting to bruise already with a few gentle licks. Sakusa draws back and Atsumu notices the light flush in his cheeks to match his own, his gaze molten.
Sakusa grips Atsumu’s hips from underneath the skirt to slot their fully hard cocks against each other and starts to grind with such purpose and promise that it makes Atsumu’s heart flip. Sakusa keeps his lips puckered to suck at the bite mark without drawing more blood and Atsumu hisses at the prickling pain. He’d never thought he would get bitten by a vampire, much less voluntarily, and have it turn him on this much. Maybe it’s just Sakusa.
Sakusa lifts him back up onto the table almost too easily and leans over him so Atsumu’s lying back across the table once more. He moves away for a short moment to unzip his slacks and open a condom to roll over his length.
“Hey, Omi-Omi.” Sakusa looks up at him. “So vampires need to be invited into a place, right?”
Sakusa nods. “Public places don’t count, though.”
“Well, this isn’t a public place.” Atsumu spreads his thighs. “C’mon in, Omi-kun.”
He bursts into laughter when Sakusa rolls his eyes and smacks his thigh. “It’s funny!”
“I beg to differ,” Sakusa says, and Atsumu’s smile sharpens.
“Then beg,” he murmurs, and grabs Sakusa’s dick with one hand to line him up. Sakusa’s hips jump at the contact and he curves over Atsumu, one forearm against the table.
“Go on, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu says, playful. He expects another eyeroll but the laugh in this throat dissolves when Sakusa’s eyelids lower and his gaze darkens into something predatory.
“Atsumu, please, may I?” Sakusa lowers himself over Atsumu to brush their lips together, one hand roaming down to his hip. “Please, Atsumu.”
Atsumu gulps and nods, guiding the head in. Sakusa presses in slow and Atsumu pinches his eyes shut at the stretch. Sakusa kisses his furrowed brow when he’s all the way in.
“One sec,” Atsumu says, shuffling on the table a little bit and allowing himself the time to get comfortable. He cups Sakusa’s face to kiss him languidly before pulling back.
“’M ready, Omi-kun.” Sakusa draws Atsumu’s lower lip between his teeth and sucks, leaving it red and swollen as he straightens and adjusts his hands, one on Atsumu’s hip and one around his cock.
“How do you want it?”
“Hard,” Atsumu says, arms coming up over his head to grip the edge of the table. “Hard n’ fast.”
Each shallow breath he takes is punched out of him in time with the snap of Sakusa’s hips. Sakusa’s cock is long and hard and perfect, brushing up against Atsumu’s prostate with each stroke, so good his legs tremble against the polished wood of the table. His stockings are rolling down. Small moans rasp from his throat when he shifts his own hips forward and back – either direction brings him up into Sakusa’s hand or back onto his cock and he feels his blush creep down his neck to meet the lace edge of his costume.
Sakusa leans over to suck hard on the bite, sweat dripping from his hairline into the hollow of Atsumu’s throat. The flat face of his fangs press into the bruise, sending sparks down his spine, and Atsumu comes so hard he sees stars.
He gets the delicious sound of Sakusa groaning into his ear as his hips stutter with orgasm and Atsumu fists one hand into his curls to keep him there. They pant against one another before slowly pulling apart, the tips of Sakusa’s curls catching on Atsumu’s callused fingertips.
Atsumu grabs at the hem of the skirt to clean himself up.
“I think we’ve definitely ruined this,” he remarks, sitting up on the table. Sakusa looks at it with a mild amount of disgust and tugs at it so Atsumu strips it off.
“Did you need it cleaned? There’s washer and dryer units in here, if you’d like.”
Atsumu stops from where he’s over at his cooler bag, pulling out his change of clothes. “I can stay?”
Sakusa gives him a questioning look and slides his glasses back onto his face. “Yes, of course you can. Unless – you wanted to leave?”
“No way, Omi-kun, this place is swanky,” Atsumu says, and the tension dissipates when Sakusa laughs. He pulls on the shirt and sweatpants he brought after tossing the costume to wash and feels underdressed to Sakusa’s turtleneck and slacks, still miraculously immaculate even after their tryst.
Atsumu’s phone pings with a text notification and he plucks it from the side pocket of the cooler bag. It’s from Kuroo.
Hey lover boy did u get some ;;;)))
No 4real tho are u ok text back so Kou and I know ur alive and not a raisin cuz all ur blood’s gone
Atsumu snorts and lifts his phone so Sakusa can see it as he peers over his shoulder.
“I wanna send a picture of us back.” Atsumu runs his hand through his already disheveled hair and lifts up the phone, but then stops and looks at Sakusa.
“Hey, do you show up in photos?”
Sakusa raises an eyebrow. “Of course I do.”
“Don’t cameras use mirrors or somethin’? And vampires can’t be seen in mirrors?”
“That was when mirrors were still backed with silver. I think they’re backed with aluminum now, so I show up in those.”
“Do you even know how cameras work?”
“Do you even know how cameras work?”
“I’m gonna Google it.” Atsumu taps out a yea STILL gettin some also do vampires appear in photos pls investigate to Kuroo and sends it.
“Later,” Sakusa says, hips circling against Atsumu from behind, hands warm around Atsumu’s thighs. “I’ve worked up an appetite, Atsumu. Come to bed.”
“Yes, sir,” Atsumu says, and promptly drops his phone to drag Sakusa with him down the hallway.