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Atsumu’s back hits his dorm bed, breath almost punched out of him as Kiyoomi covers his body with his own half a second later. The cheap bed springs of the single bed screech in protest under the weight of two grown men, but neither of them pay any attention to the noise. Atsumu throws his arms around Kiyoomi’s neck, pulling him closer, and Kiyoomi kisses him like he’s devouring his last meal. Atsumu groans into Kiyoomi’s mouth, pulling at his t-shirt.
"Off, off," he gasps as Kiyoomi trails kisses along his jaw, and Kiyoomi swiftly sits up and removes the shirt. Atsumu lets his eyes roam over the pale expanse of Kiyoomi’s chest, mouth going dry at the sight of his tight abs and muscular pecs. "Fuck, yer gorgeous."
Kiyoomi blushes and casts his eyes down, and for a moment Atsumu wonders if that was too much, too intimate. He doesn't get much time to ponder it, however, because the next thing he knows Kiyoomi’s hands are on his waist, fisting the fabric of his shirt.
"Can I?" Kiyoomi asks, and when his gaze meets Atsumu's his eyes are blown wide with lust. Atsumu feels heat rush through him and nods, lifting his arms to let Kiyoomi undress him. Kiyoomi’s eyes widen as he discards the shirt, his expression turning into hunger.
"Like what ya see?" Atsumu teases, trying to sound cocky and casual over the frantic beating of his heart.
Kiyoomi doesn't answer right away. Instead, he leans down and presses a kiss to Atsumu’s collarbone. Atsumu gasps as soft lips continue to trail down his chest, cursing under his breath when Kiyoomi’s tongue finds his nipple.
"Beautiful," Kiyoomi murmurs into Atsumu’s skin, so quiet that Atsumu’s pretty sure he wasn't meant to hear it. His heart does a somersault and he tries to steady his breathing, but it's hard when Kiyoomi’s mouth is travelling further down towards where Atsumu’s hard and aching in his jeans. Groaning softly, he throws his head back and loses himself in the sensations.
Atsumu pushes open the door to his elective class, just barely avoiding being late on the first day. The lecturer is just about to start so he slinks into the first seat he can find, in the back row close to the door. He barely notices the person next to him until he accidentally bumps them with his elbow when taking off his jacket.
“Oh, sorry ‘bout-” he begins, lifting his gaze to look at his desk mate and completely losing his words when he looks straight into the darkest eyes he’s ever seen. The lower half of the stranger’s face is covered by a mask, but the twin moles over his eyebrow and his silky black curls are enough to take Atsumu’s breath away.
“It’s alright,” the man says, his eyes quickly scanning over Atsumu. “Just try to be more careful next time.”
“‘Course,” Atsumu replies, somewhat breathless. “By the way, name’s Miya Atsumu. ‘S nice to meet ya.”
His desk mate studies him for a moment, dark eyes narrowing slightly before relaxing again. “Sakusa Kiyoomi.”
Atsumu desperately wants to rip the mask off and see what Sakusa Kiyoomi’s lips look like, but he settles for one of his trademark grins instead. And just like that, he’s decided that he’s going to make this man his friend.
As Kiyoomi’s lips reach the waistband of Atsumu’s jeans, he stops and looks up. Atsumu meets his gaze, breathing heavily and feeling a bit lightheaded from how fast blood is rushing through his system. Kiyoomi’s hand strokes up the outside of his thigh, his dark eyes soft yet hungry.
“Are you sure about this, Atsumu?” he asks, one hand braced on the bed and the other coming up to rest just above Atsumu’s fly. It stays there, strong yet soft, wanting yet respectful, as Kiyoomi waits for an answer.
Atsumu takes a deep breath, and then another. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. Sure, it’ll hurt a bit when they’re just friends again tomorrow, but this moment belongs to them. To him and Kiyoomi, wrapped up in each other on Atsumu’s tiny dorm bed.
He smiles softly, reaching down to give Kiyoomi’s cheek the lightest of touches with his fingertips. “Yeah, Omi, ‘m sure.”
Atsumu thinks he might be imagining the way Kiyoomi leans into his touch for just a second, his eyelashes fluttering and making him look even prettier. And then Kiyoomi’s hands are on his fly and Atsumu’s hand falls, a gasp falling from his lips as his jeans come undone under Kiyoomi’s deft fingers. He makes a soft sound when the denim is pulled over the bulge in his underwear, and doesn’t miss the way Kiyoomi’s molten gaze lingers on it. Heat tugs at his gut, making his breath hitch as he chokes on a whimper. He wants, he wants.
Once his jeans are discarded, Kiyoomi crawls back up his body and settles on top of him, bringing their lips together once more. Their kisses are slower now, but no less heated. As Kiyoomi shifts his hips, Atsumu feels the proof that his best friend is just as affected by the situation as he is. He groans at the thought, his hands carefully settling on Kiyoomi’s waist as his pinkies hook into denim belt loops.
“Can I take these off ya, Omi?” Atsumu asks, his nerves flaring up as he feels this become more real with every passing second.
“Yeah, of course,” Kiyoomi says, sitting up slightly to give Atsumu’s hands more room. Atsumu fumbles for a moment but manages to unzip Kiyoomi’s jeans, revealing the proof of his arousal through the fabric of his boxers. Atsumu reaches out, almost mesmerised, and traces his fingertips along the hard length of Kiyoomi’s cock. Kiyoomi gasps above him, looking down at Atsumu with lust and hunger written all over his face.
“So warm,” Atsumu hums, mostly to himself, before looking up and meeting Kiyoomi’s heated gaze. “Kiss me, Omi, please?”
Kiyoomi quickly wriggles out of his jeans before getting back on all fours on top of Atsumu. He cranes his neck down and their lips meet, slow at first but steadily getting greedier. Atsumu tugs at Kiyoomi’s shoulders and hair, feeling more desperate every second, and suddenly Kiyoomi’s body falls and is flush against his own. They both groan as their cocks slot into place next to each other, and Atsumu starts to roll his hips mostly on instinct. Kiyoomi’s cock is hard, and hot, and it feels so fucking good to just grind against him.
“God, Omi, oh my god,” Atsumu whimpers, nails digging into Kiyoomi’s back as they move together, finding a rhythm in their shared desperation.
“So good,” Kiyoomi pants in his ear, burying his face in the crook of Atsumu’s neck as he pushes his hips down harder, making Atsumu cry out in pleasure. “You feel so good, fuck, Atsumu .”
Atsumu does his best to hold back the tears that threaten to spill from his too-honest eyes.
“How’s international business treatin’ ya so far, Omi?” Atsumu asks as he slumps down in the seat next to Kiyoomi, a half-eaten onigiri in his hand. They’re about two months into their first year and Atsumu knows by now that Kiyoomi spends most Thursdays in the library, so he likes to stop by after his last afternoon lecture. Only for platonic reasons, of course. Not at all because seeing Kiyoomi’s deep, dark eyes and hearing his velvety voice makes his heart skip a beat every time. Of course not, that would be silly.
“It’s fine, I suppose,” Kiyoomi replies without looking up from his notes, twirling a pen between his long fingers. “Did you have to bring that in here?”
“How didja know?” Atsumu gasps, taking a bite of his snack and ignoring Kiyoomi’s slight scowl when a few grains of rice land on the table in front of them. “And I wasn’t gonna just throw it away, ‘s almost as good as Samu’s!”
“I can smell the umeboshi and it’s distracting,” Kiyoomi says, shuffling his notes and scrawling something down on one of the pages. “You couldn’t have finished eating it outside?”
“‘S cold outside, Omi,” Atsumu hums, pouting at Kiyoomi even though the other man isn’t looking at him. “Plus, then I would’ve had to wait longer to bother ya while yer studyin’.”
“And we couldn’t have that, could we?” Kiyoomi deadpans, shooting a quick glare at Atsumu before turning back to his notes. “We’re not supposed to have food in the library, Miya.”
Atsumu rolls his eyes and picks the rice grains off of the table with a napkin. “How many times do I hav’ta ask ya to call me Atsumu?”
“As many times as I have to ask you to drop that stupid nickname,” Kiyoomi sighs, glancing at the onigiri again. Atsumu doesn’t miss it, a grin spreading across his face.
“D’ya like umeboshi, Omi?” he asks, waving the remaining third of the snack in front of Kiyoomi’s face.
Kiyoomi’s eyes narrow as they flit to Atsumu’s face before returning to the onigiri. “Maybe.”
Atsumu’s grin widens as he wiggles his eyebrows. “D’ya want the rest of this? ‘S very tasty but ‘m actually full.”
It’s a gamble and Atsumu knows it. Kiyoomi might not be the type to share things about himself before he knows someone well enough, but it’d take an idiot not to pick up on his aversion to touch and germs. Atsumu’s offer is genuine, but it’s also a test to see if Kiyoomi will be okay with eating something with his germs on it. Because if he is… well, then maybe one day he’ll be okay with exploring Atsumu’s germs further?
Kiyoomi is silent for almost a whole minute before seemingly accepting defeat. “Fine. Do you have an extra napkin? I don’t want my fingers getting sticky with rice.”
Atsumu’s pulse speeds up considerably as he nods, digging out a spare napkin from his pocket and wrapping it around the base of the onigiri before handing it over. Kiyoomi accepts it and takes a bite, and Atsumu watches him chew with his heart in his throat.
“This is good,” Kiyoomi finally says, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his pouty lips. “Thank you.”
Atsumu doesn’t stop grinning for the rest of the day.
Atsumu’s not sure how long they simply grind against each other, he just loses himself in the feeling of Kiyoomi’s warm, hard body on top of him and the delicious friction of their cocks through fabric. Eventually, though, Kiyoomi stops his movements and puts a hand on Atsumu’s cheek to get his attention.
“Atsu, baby,” Kiyoomi grits out, and Atsumu can’t stop the needy whimper that escapes him at the use of the pet name. “If we don’t move on this’ll be over way to soon, fuck.”
“Y-yeah, okay,” Atsumu nods, feeling lightheaded and slightly desperate already. “How do we… d’ya wanna-”
Kiyoomi interrupts him with a kiss, tender yet insistent, and pulls back just enough to meet Atsumu’s gaze. “Can I touch you, Atsu? I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
Atsumu can’t do anything but nod, overwhelmed by how safe and taken care of he feels. He knew Kiyoomi would be good about this, and that he’d never hurt him, but this is so much more than he expected. It’s better and worse all at once and he doesn’t know what to do with himself and everything he’s feeling.
Kiyoomi shuffles down his body, trailing featherlight kisses as he goes, and Atsumu’s cock throbs with every single one. Once Kiyoomi reaches his boxers he kisses a line along the waistband before carefully pulling them off, finally freeing Atsumu’s aching cock. Kiyoomi sucks in a breath as he tosses the underwear aside and immediately dives back down to lick a broad, wet stripe along Atsumu’s shaft. Atsumu almost shouts in surprise and bites his fist, groaning as Kiyoomi repeats the move again and again.
“Omi, O-omi, shit ,” he gasps, precome already dripping from his cock and pooling on his abs.
“Such a pretty cock,” Kiyoomi hums, kissing Atsumu’s inner thigh and fumbling for the lube. Atsumu feels himself blush all the way to the tips of his ears and he tries to speak, but he can only whimper with need as Kiyoomi gently positions his legs and angles his hips to get better access.
“Try to relax for me,” Kiyoomi says as he squeezes out some lube and warms it between his fingers. “I’ll go slow but you need to work with me as well, okay?”
“Okay,” Atsumu breathes, his eyes fixed on Kiyoomi’s slick fingers approaching his entrance. At the first touch he clenches instinctively, but then he takes a few deep breaths and does his best to relax. The touch of Kiyoomi’s finger is soft and gentle with barely any pressure, almost teasing in how light it is, and another shred of Atsumu’s sanity slips away. “Ah, more, Omi, m-more…”
“Fuck,” Kiyoomi curses under his breath, pushing slightly harder as his finger circles Atsumu’s sensitive rim. “Are you sure?”
“Y-yes, yeah, ah!” Atsumu hiccups, interrupting himself with a cry of pleasure when a slick finger breaches him. “Oh god, Omi, oh my god.”
“Oh, baby,” Kiyoomi sighs reverently, and Atsumu is once again fighting back tears at the raw emotion in his voice. “I’ll take care of you, I’ve got you. Just relax for me.”
Atsumu can do that, he can relax and let Kiyoomi make him feel good. His heart aches from the care and devotion shown by his best friend, from knowing that this’ll all be gone tomorrow. They’ll be just friends, not lovers, and Kiyoomi will never look at him like this again.
Kiyoomi pushes his finger deeper and Atsumu falls even further.
The music is loud and thumping and Atsumu is just on the right side of tipsy, a fresh drink being poured for him by the cute bartender. He’s nearing the end of his first college year and this is just one of many nights out with the group of friends he’s made during the past several months. Bokuto and Hinata are by his side, loud and rowdy as usual, and Kiyoomi is - ah.
Kiyoomi’s sitting in the corner, hands around the waist of a pretty thing in his lap that’s currently busy devouring him with their lips. Atsumu forces himself to tear his gaze away as he pays the bartender and downs almost half his drink in one go. Still, he can’t help but glance back at the display in the corner, watching Kiyoomi’s long fingers trail along the body of the lovely thing he’s captured. Atsumu chews on his tongue and clenches his jaw, trying to keep his face as impassive as possible even as his insides are screaming and twisting into horrible shapes.
This isn’t a new development. While Kiyoomi isn’t always on the prowl, he tends to bring home more people than the rest of their group. Atsumu knows there’s nothing wrong with that, but the cold fist of jealousy still holds his heart in a vice grip. He’s long since given up on pretending that he doesn’t know why he gets jealous when Kiyoomi leaves the club with his arm around someone who’s undressing him with their eyes.
Atsumu watches, and pines, and sometimes cries into his pillow in the middle of the night when no one can hear him. He remembers the days when he thought he had to ease Kiyoomi into his closeness, his touch, only to see Kiyoomi stick his tongue down a stranger’s throat on their group’s first night out together. He’s admittedly always under the influence of alcohol when taking someone home, but it’s not like he gets plastered to the point of not realising what he’s doing. It hurts when Atsumu has to watch him be flirty and suave with strangers, to see them swoon over him and touch him like Atsumu craves so badly. But he has no right to Kiyoomi, no right to want anything more than what they have.
Kiyoomi is his best friend, and Atsumu is hopelessly in love with him.
“Fuck, Omi, I can- I can’t-”
Atsumu’s gripping the pillow under his head, blinking away tears as the three fingers in his ass mercilessly tease his prostate. Kiyoomi has been slowly working him open, driving him absolutely crazy with want, and all Atsumu can think about is that if this keeps up he’s going to come before Kiyoomi’s even inside him.
“Omi, s-stop, ya gotta stop,” he manages to get out, and thankfully the fingers inside him halt their movements.
“Does it hurt?” Kiyoomi asks, a worried crease appearing on his forehead.
Atsumu vehemently shakes his head. “‘S too good, was about to come, fuck. I wanna- wanna feel ya, Omi.”
“Yeah, okay, yeah,” Kiyoomi says, sounding almost nervous as he pulls his fingers out and wipes them on a tissue from Atsumu’s nightstand. Atsumu has to remind himself to breathe as Kiyoomi rolls on a condom and slicks himself up before leaning over Atsumu’s body, his heavy cock swaying between his legs. Instinctively, Atsumu spreads his legs further to accommodate Kiyoomi’s hips and it’s not long before he’s gasping at the feeling of something hot, slick, and blunt against his hole.
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Kiyoomi asks, his hand brushing past Atsumu’s cock as he grips himself. His other hand is warm and steady on Atsumu’s jaw, thumb stroking his cheek, and Atsumu is drowning in the starry depths of his best friend’s eyes. Another tear escapes him as he lets out a wet breath.
“Never been more sure of anythin’, Omi,” he says, voice slightly shaky with nerves and emotions that he doesn’t want to think about right now. “I want it to be ya.”
I want it to be you every day for the rest of my life, he thinks but doesn’t say.
Kiyoomi holds Atsumu’s gaze as he starts to push in, his mouth falling open as his cock breaches the rim. Atsumu gasps and immediately tenses up, but Kiyoomi simply stills and continues slowly stroking his cheek. It only takes a few deep breaths for Atsumu’s muscles to relax again, and he nods his consent to keep going.
Kiyoomi’s breathing becomes shallow and clipped as he continues the slow push inside, and there’s a slight tremor in his entire body. His eyes fall shut and brows knit together as he slides further in, and Atsumu’s cock throbs at the expression of pure pleasure on his best friend’s face.
When Kiyoomi finally bottoms out he lets out a long, shaky breath and opens his eyes, immediately searching Atsumu’s face. “Are you okay? How does it feel?”
Atsumu doesn’t know how to answer that. It’s an entirely new sensation, so much more than fingers, and the fact that Kiyoomi is inside him has his head spinning out of control. There’s a slight stretch but it’s not too bad, thanks to Kiyoomi’s thorough prep. Atsumu feels full, eager, and hot all over. Mostly, he just wants…
“Move,” he chokes out, like a breath being punched from his lungs. “Move, need ya to fuck me, please, Omi .”
“I’m going to go slow,” Kiyoomi says, leaning down and kissing Atsumu’s collarbone, his neck, the spot under his ear. Atsumu shudders, gripping onto Kiyoomi’s shoulders. “I don’t ever want to risk hurting you.”
Atsumu kisses him again, because he can and because there’s nothing else he’d rather do.
Atsumu watches the bottle spin on the floor, his own head spinning a little with it as he takes a sip of his drink. He’s not sure who suggested playing this game, but he’s somehow ended up pressed against Kiyoomi on the crowded couch so he can’t find it in himself to complain. Kiyoomi’s warm and steady, and most definitely less drunk than Atsumu. He’s a comforting presence, even though he makes Atsumu’s heart want to beat out of his chest.
House parties like this have become more frequent than club nights during their now second year of college, mostly due to them befriending third-year Ushijima who has a huge flat with plenty of room for people to get drunk and make bad decisions. No one asks how he can afford it, and frankly Atsumu doesn’t care as long as they can keep coming here every weekend and get drunk on cheap alcohol.
The bottle stops spinning, someone gets asked truth or dare, and something goes down at the opposite side of the big circle they’re sitting in. Atsumu’s not sure what, because he’s too busy focusing on the magical sound of Kiyoomi chuckling softly next to him as he takes in the spectacle at the other end of the room. Atsumu chances a glance at him and sucks in a breath at the sight of Kiyoomi’s flushed cheeks and relaxed smile, all thanks to the alcohol. He’s so incredibly beautiful and Atsumu can’t take his eyes off him.
There’s some commotion in the circle that Atsumu doesn’t pay attention to, but he definitely pays attention when Kiyoomi’s easy smile morphs into a nervous expression. When Kiyoomi takes a deep breath and says “Okay, dare,” Atsumu finally shakes himself out of his lovesick daydreams.
“Huh?” he says, but it’s drowned out by Hinata’s screech of victory from the other side of the room.
“Ha, finally!” Hinata grins, red cheeks clashing horribly with his wild hair. He also seems to be wearing lipstick now, and it’s smudged all over his face. Atsumu will have to remember to ask him about that later. Hinata puffs up his chest and triumphantly points at Kiyoomi. “I dare you to kiss Atsumu!”
Wait, what?
Atsumu’s positive he misheard. He wants to ask Hinata to repeat himself but his brain isn’t working so well right now. Kiyoomi’s jaw clenches almost imperceptibly and he turns to look at Atsumu, his brow slightly furrowed. Atsumu just stares at him, unable to speak. For a moment they just breathe in each other's space, silent, waiting. The room has gone quiet and you can cut the tension with a knife.
Atsumu doesn’t remember Kiyoomi moving his hands, but suddenly they’re cradling his face with the most gentle touch he’s ever felt. Kiyoomi has stopped breathing and just watches him silently, gauging his reaction. Atsumu knows he could pull away, but why the hell would he want to? He leans in instead, licking his lips without even thinking about it. Kiyoomi’s right there, and his lips are pouty and pink, and his face is getting blurry, and he’s-
Kiyoomi’s lips feel like spring, like rose petals, like the softest pillow Atsumu can imagine. He’s warm and solid and tastes faintly of alcohol. The kiss is chaste but firm, Kiyoomi’s grip on his jaw tightening like he’s afraid Atsumu will suddenly decide to run away. As if.
“Omi,” Atsumu breathes as they break apart, his eyes fixed on Kiyoomi’s lips for a few seconds before he looks up to meet his best friend’s gaze. Kiyoomi’s jaw is slack and his breathing is a bit laboured as he lets Atsumu drown in his dark eyes for just a short, blissful moment.
And then it’s over. Kiyoomi lets go of his face and pulls away, settling back against the couch with a soft smirk. Atsumu blinks, and then blinks again, and then suddenly remembers that he has to breathe. If Kiyoomi notices the state he’s put Atsumu in, he’s choosing not to acknowledge it. Hinata glares at them for the rest of the night but Atsumu doesn’t meet his eyes, choosing to stare at his own knees instead. He needs to talk to Kiyoomi about this. He really, really needs to talk to Kiyoomi about this when they’re both sober.
They never talk about it, sober or otherwise.
True to his word, Kiyoomi goes slow. Almost too slow, Atsumu thinks, but how can he complain when he’s being held like he’s made of glass and touched like he’s the most precious creature on earth? It feels so much like devotion, like love , that he can’t hold back the tears anymore.
Kiyoomi immediately stills as soon as the first tear trails down Atsumu’s cheek. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I’m-”
“N-no, no,” Atsumu hiccups, meeting Kiyoomi’s gaze and stroking his cheek with the back of a single finger. “Yer good, Omi, yer fine. ‘M not hurt, ‘s just… a lot.”
Kiyoomi nods in understanding, grabbing Atsumu’s hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. Atsumu’s heart flutters. “Do you need me to stop?”
Atsumu closes his eyes and breathes for a moment, focusing on the feeling of Kiyoomi on top and inside of him. It feels good, so good, but it’s also a tad overwhelming. Like this, he can imagine that Kiyoomi is his. Right now, just in this moment, Atsumu can pretend that everything he dreams of is real. How could he ever give that up before he has to, before it’s ripped from his hands and out of his reach?
He opens his eyes and shakes his head, holding Kiyoomi closer. Blinking away tears, Atsumu wraps his legs around that tiny waist that he’s spent so many hours fantasising about. “Not on yer life, Omi. Ya agreed to do this, so fuck me properly.”
Something dark and devious flits across Kiyoomi’s face and his worried expression shifts into a smirk. “Anything for you.”
Atsumu doesn’t even have time to blush over the words before Kiyoomi buries his face in Atsumu’s neck and starts fucking him in earnest. Atsumu sucks in a breath as Kiyoomi’s hips snap forward at a much faster pace, gasping and crying out as Kiyoomi licks and bites at his neck like he can’t get enough. Atsumu might be going slightly insane from pleasure, but he swears he can hear Kiyoomi mumble hushed words into his skin.
“You, for you, anything for you… I’ll give you everything… Atsumu …”
He must be imagining it, he can’t think of another explanation. A particularly hard and well-placed thrust from Kiyoomi pulls Atsumu out of his thoughts and he chokes out a moan, his eyes rolling back as Kiyoomi’s cock hits his sweet spot again and again. The earlier teasing is starting to make itself known as Atsumu’s cock throbs, neglected and leaking on his abs, as heat gathers in his abdomen.
“Omi, ‘m gonna come,'' Atsumu gasps, his eyes flying open to meet Kiyoomi’s wild gaze. “‘S too good, I can’t hold back, fuck!”
“Come for me, baby,” Kiyoomi pants, cradling Atsumu’s face with one hand while using the other as leverage for his maddening thrusts. “Want to feel you, come on, let go.”
Atsumu comes with a silent cry, head thrown back and nails digging into the flexing muscles of Kiyoomi’s back. He spills between them, painting their stomachs with his release, and Kiyoomi fucks him through it at a steady pace while groaning softly above him.
“Omi,” he sobs as he comes down, tears wetting his cheeks once again. “Omi, oh god, oh fuck…”
“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” Kiyoomi coos, kissing his tears away with soft, gentle lips. “I’ve got you, Atsu, I’ve got you. Do you need a break?”
“No!” Atsumu almost shouts as he pulls Kiyoomi impossibly closer, most of his filter already evaporating in the post-orgasm haze. “Don’t go, please don’t go. Keep goin’, fuck, please.”
Kiyoomi pulls him into a kiss, long and deep and perfect , and Atsumu can’t help but relax and moan softly into his lover’s mouth. When Kiyoomi pulls back his eyes look a little misty, but Atsumu thinks he might be imagining that as well. At least he’ll still have Kiyoomi like this for a little while longer, their fleeting moment won’t be over quite yet.
Their third year goes by in a flash and before either of them know it they’re both very busy with final exam revision. They hang out less due to the necessity of prioritising studying, but still find time for each other here and there to vent about classes and drown their stress in alcohol. They don’t go out as much, and Kiyoomi has stopped bringing people home with him when they do. Atsumu notices, but assumes that like everything else it’s due to the pressure of exams pushing everything else way down on the priority list.
And then, all of a sudden, exams are over.
“I can’t believe we’re done,” Atsumu giggles, taking a swig of his beer and leaning back against the wall, his single bed being used as a makeshift couch.
“You’ve been done for almost a week,” Kiyoomi points out with a raised eyebrow, spinning slowly in Atsumu’s desk chair as he nurses his drink. “I only finished this afternoon.”
“‘S exactly what I said, we’re done now!” Atsumu says, gesturing to both of them to emphasise his point. “No point in celebratin’ without my best friend.”
Kiyoomi chuckles and raises his glass, clinking Atsumu’s bottle before taking a sip. “Thanks for waiting for me, I guess.”
“‘Course I waited,” Atsumu grins, downing half his beer in one go and staring wistfully up at the ceiling. “Man, I can’t believe we’re free.”
The cheap booze is flowing and when the evening turns into early night they’re both tipsy enough for the conversation to shift to more somber, serious topics. Atsumu almost feels a bit weepy when he thinks about how their time together in college is basically over. Will they stay in touch? Does Kiyoomi even want to be his friend when he’s not conveniently nearby anymore?
“Hey, Omi,” he says, voice uncharacteristically quiet, fingers fiddling with the label on his beer bottle. “Are we still gonna be friends? Y’know… after college.”
Kiyoomi gives him a strange look. “Of course, why wouldn’t we be?”
“I dunno,” Atsumu shrugs, suddenly feeling embarrassed that he even asked. “Thought maybe ya’d be sick of me by now.”
There’s a beat of silence before Kiyoomi speaks, voice soft yet serious. “Atsu, you’re my best friend. I don’t plan on changing that.”
It’s a strange feeling, Atsumu thinks, when a simple sentence makes you happy and sad at the same time. Happy, because Kiyoomi isn’t planning on disappearing from his life when college is over. Sad, because he doesn’t plan on changing their friendship. It won’t become something more. It won’t become what Atsumu’s been craving for nearly three years.
He already knew this, of course, but it still sucks to be reminded.
He gives Kiyoomi a small but genuine smile before getting up from the bed and walking over to the window, staring out at the light pollution in the night sky. Atsumu wishes he could see the stars, but right now his main concern is hiding the unshed tears in his eyes from Kiyoomi.
“Thanks, Omi,” he says quietly, managing to keep his voice mostly steady. “Yer my best friend too.”
“Does that mean you’ll be the best man at my wedding one day?” Kiyoomi says, the lilt in his voice giving away his smile. A tear trails down Atsumu’s cheek, but he still manages to chuckle as he hides his face from the person he loves.
“‘Course I will. I keep tellin’ ya, ‘m still surprised ya didn’t find anyone in college.”
It’s a topic they’ve discussed before, but Kiyoomi always shrugs it off. Today is apparently no exception.
“None of them were what I wanted long term, it’s as simple as that,” Kiyoomi says plainly, like he’s discussing the weather. “To be honest I’m surprised you haven’t found anyone either.”
Atsumu takes a shaky breath, the alcohol-fuelled honesty bubbling in his chest. “I… I haven’t even been hookin’ up with anyone.”
“You haven’t?” Kiyoomi says, and even though Atsumu can’t see him he can feel the confusion in his best friend’s gaze.
Atsumu stares at his own reflection in the window, his jaw clenching as he considers what he’s about to admit. Save for his twin, he’s never told anyone. But what kind of best friend doesn’t share these things? He wants Kiyoomi to know, needs him to know.
“‘M a virgin, Omi,” he says slowly, before downing the rest of his beer.
Kiyoomi’s pace is steady now and Atsumu is almost sobbing from the overstimulation, but his legs are like a vice around Kiyoomi’s waist and he refuses to let go and give up this feeling. Tears are flowing down his face and Kiyoomi is wiping them away with kisses and gentle fingers while fucking him so good that Atsumu knows he’s going to come again before long.
“So perfect,” Kiyoomi moans, eyes rolling back as he thrusts into Atsumu’s sensitive hole like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. “You’re perfect, fuck, Atsu, baby .”
Fresh tears well up in Atsumu’s eyes at the pet name and his brain feels like it’s melting out through his ears. He doesn’t have many coherent thoughts left, everything is just fuck and yes and Kiyoomi . His hips buck to meet his lover’s thrusts, making them both groan, and Kiyoomi presses their foreheads together as they breathe heavily into each other’s space.
“Fuck, Omi,” he whimpers, fisting a handful of Kiyoomi’s curls and relishing in the moan it earns him. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh my god.”
“You feel amazing,” Kiyoomi growls, bending down further to bite and lick at Atsumu’s neck and shoulders as he rolls his hips at merciless pace. “Not gonna stop, not ever gonna stop, fuck!”
“Please, please,” Atsumu begs, not even sure what he’s asking for but needing to do it regardless. “Fuck me, take me, please .”
Kiyoomi groans and sinks his teeth into Atsumu’s shoulder as he speeds his hips up further, panting into Atsumu’s skin as he fucks him like a man possessed. It’s everything Atsumu’s ever wanted and he holds Kiyoomi close, moaning and whimpering as the pleasure in his gut mounts again. When Kiyoomi hits his prostate dead on, the last shred of his filter disappears into the ether.
“‘M yers!” he cries, his cock throbbing as he chases his second release. “I belong to ya, only ya, take me, take me like ‘m yers cause I fuckin’ am, Omi, Kiyoomi!”
Kiyoomi suddenly stills, pulling back just enough for them to lock eyes, and when Atsumu meets his gaze he sees utter shock.
“What,” Kiyoomi begins, sucking in a shaky breath before continuing. “What did you just say?”
“You’re… really?” Kiyoomi says, sounding thoroughly confused. “But… I’ve seen you with people when we’ve been out?”
“I talked to people, sure,” Atsumu shrugs, staring down at his own feet. “Flirted a bit, kissed a few. But it never… I never…”
He trails off, chewing on his bottom lip. The silence that follows is deafening. Atsumu’s nerves are firing wildly, telling him to flee from this awkward situation as fast as he can, but his feet won’t move. Plus they’re in his dorm, where the hell would he go?
“I see,” Kiyoomi finally says, and Atsumu can’t quite read the tone of his voice. The desk chair creaks as Kiyoomi gets up from his seat. “Atsumu, look at me.”
Atsumu takes a deep breath in and slowly lets it out before turning around to face his best friend. Kiyoomi’s face is calm and soft, and it makes him feel a bit more at ease.
“Thank you for telling me,” Kiyoomi says, and Atsumu can’t help but smile at the gentleness in his voice. “And I don’t think any less of you for it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Atsumu rubs the back of his neck, feeling a little bashful. “Thanks, Omi. I didn’t think ya would, ‘s just…”
He trails off again, realising how close he’s getting to very dangerous territory. His brain and body are slightly buzzing from the alcohol and the confession sits right at the back of his throat. He swallows it down with some difficulty.
“It’s just what, Atsu?” Kiyoomi gently prods.
“I wanted to find someone in college,” Atsumu admits, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking everywhere but at Kiyoomi. “I guess it just wasn’t meant to happen. ‘S probably my own fault.”
“Why do you think it’s your fault?” Kiyoomi asks, taking half a step closer. Atsumu’s heart does a somersault in his chest and he continues to stare at the floor.
“I never trusted anyone enough,” he says quietly, shuffling his feet a little. “At least… not anyone that wanted me in that way.”
Kiyoomi’s voice is so soft, almost inaudible, when he asks: “Then who do you trust?”
Atsumu takes a long breath and tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before answering.
“I trust ya, Omi,” he says, and the question he wants to ask burns on his tongue. He’s so tired of waiting, so tired of hiding, and he doesn’t have the mental energy to stop himself. “Will ya do it, Omi? Will ya be my first?”
Kiyoomi sucks in a sharp breath and Atsumu tilts his head back down to look at him, finding his best friend gaping at him with wide, dark eyes. The reality of what he just said starts to settle in, but Kiyoomi speaks before he can panic.
“Are… are you serious, Atsumu? Are you sure?” His voice is high and breathless and there’s a slight flush on his cheeks. He’s so beautiful, and Atsumu is so stupidly in love with him.
“I trust ya more than anyone else, Kiyoomi,” he says, holding his best friend’s gaze with courage he didn’t know he had. “Well, other than Samu, but he’s not really an option for this.”
Kiyoomi gives a small chuckle but quickly turns serious again, closing the distance between them and cupping Atsumu’s jaw with a gentle hand. Atsumu forgets how to breathe because wow, he’s never been this close to Kiyoomi’s lips before.
“If you’re sure,” Kiyoomi says, gaze flicking down to Atsumu’s mouth before returning to his eyes. “Then I’d be honoured.”
And then they’re kissing and Atsumu remembers how to breathe again, stealing the air right from Kiyoomi’s lungs.
“Please, Atsumu,” Kiyoomi begs, voice and hand shaking as he brushes Atsumu’s hair away from his face, cradling his jaw like something unbelievably precious. “Say that again. Please .”
Atsumu hiccups out a sob, high on endorphins and so horny he can’t think straight. If he tries to hide, tries to lie, he knows he’ll fail. In a moment like this, with every nerve on fire and his heart flayed open for Kiyoomi to devour, there’s only room for absolute honesty.
“I love ya,” he sobs, shivering when Kiyoomi sucks in a sharp breath. “S-so much, ever since our first year, fuck. I’ve only ever been yers, Kiyoomi.”
“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi breathes, sounding like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Atsumu, I-”
“I don’t expect anythin’ from ya,” Atsumu quickly adds, his frantic mind stuck between stringing words together and worrying that Kiyoomi will get up and leave. “Just fuck me, please, let me have this and I won’t ever-”
“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi interrupts, voice a bit louder and thick with tears. Atsumu blinks up at him, confused and taken aback. Kiyoomi is looking at him like all the stars in the sky have gathered in his eyes. “I love you too, I do, I love- fuck, how long? I’ve loved you for over a year, Atsumu.”
Atsumu stares at him, mouth hanging open and his entire body thrumming with a heady mix of adrenaline and arousal. “Omi… fuck, ya bein’ serious with me right now?”
“Never been more serious in my life,” Kiyoomi says, leaning their foreheads together and closing his eyes, twin tears rolling down his cheeks. “That’s why I stopped hooking up with strangers. I couldn’t… they weren’t you , Atsu.”
Atsumu has a thousand questions and a million things he wants to say, but he’s also acutely aware of the fact that despite the tears and emotions, they’re both still rock hard. Maybe this conversation can wait just a few more minutes, Atsumu thinks as he resolutely grabs Kiyoomi’s shoulders and rolls his hips back onto his cock, clenching down as he goes.
“Shit, fuck!” Kiyoomi groans, his eyes flying open and his brows furrowing in pleasure. “Atsu, baby-”
“Kiss me,” Atsumu pleads, throwing his arms around Kiyoomi’s neck to pull him closer. “Kiss me, fuck me, do whatever ya want with me. God, Omi, I love ya so much.”
Kiyoomi surges down to claim his mouth, kissing him hard as he starts to move his hips again. Atsumu keens into his mouth, meeting the thrusts with his own desperate movements, fucking himself on Kiyoomi’s cock as it moves in and out of him. It’s perfect. It’s everything.
“I’m close,” Kiyoomi grits out less than a minute later, the roll of his hips becoming erratic and frantic as he pants into Atsumu’s ear. “I’m gonna come, fuck fuck fuck .”
“Give it to me,” Atsumu whimpers, tightening his legs around Kiyoomi’s waist and clenching down on his throbbing cock. “Fill me up, Omi, c’mon.”
“Gonna give you everything,” Kiyoomi groans, hips spasming as he starts to come, filling the condom with his release. “Fucking take it, shit, Atsumu !”
The broken cry of his name sends Atsumu over the edge as well, his desperate sounds filling the air as he spills between them for the second time that night. Kiyoomi collapses on top of him, sweaty and spent, and Atsumu holds him close until they’re both breathing normally again.
Atsumu’s slowly drifting, almost falling asleep, when Kiyoomi gently pokes his cheek. “Hey, we’re cleaning up before you pass out.”
“Mmm,” Atsumu hums, brow furrowing slightly as he buries his face in Kiyoomi’s chest. “Don’t wanna move.”
“Too bad,” Kiyoomi chuckles, gently detaching himself from Atsumu’s grip and standing up. “I’m not sleeping with cum all over me.”
“Fine, fine,” Atsumu huffs, opening his eyes just a sliver and looking up at Kiyoomi. “But Omi… we gotta talk about this, I-”
“Shh,” Kiyoomi coos, bending down to kiss Atsumu’s damp forehead. “I know. Tomorrow, when we’re both sober and rested, okay?”
“Okay,” Atsumu says, sitting up and grabbing the tissues on his nightstand. He hands some to Kiyoomi, meeting his gaze as he does. “I meant it, y’know. What I said.”
Kiyoomi settles beside him on the bed as they clean up, kissing him softly and smiling against his lips. “I know, I did too. I promise, Atsumu.”
Atsumu hums quietly, contentedness spreading throughout his body as he leans into Kiyoomi. “Say it again, Omi, please?”
“I love you, Atsu,” Kiyoomi whispers, kissing his hair and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “So, so much.”
“I love ya too,” Atsumu sighs happily, nuzzling into Kiyoomi’s shoulder and pressing soft kisses to his damp skin. “Sorry ‘bout the small bed, might be kinda uncomfortable with the both of us.”
Kiyoomi laughs softly, laying down on the single bed and pulling Atsumu down with him into a tight embrace. “If it means being close to you, I’ll put up with any discomfort.”
Despite the cramped bed, messy sheets, and sweaty bodies, Atsumu sleeps peacefully in Kiyoomi’s arms through the night. The morning brings hushed conversation, sleepy kisses, and utter bliss.