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It wasn’t unusual for Atsumu to spend a Friday night at Sakusa’s MSBY apartment. They lived across the hall from each other and were the two out of the whole team that were typically in the dorms 24/7.
However, to clarify, it wasn’t typically for something wholesome like watching shows, playing video games, or cooking dinner. Those were the PG-13 things Atsumu usually did with his more extroverted teammates (Team Dinner Sunday was founded by Atsumu and Bokuto after all). But unlike those family-friendly activities, the things Atsumu and Sakusa did together were completely unsuitable for children.
It usually starts where they are now, sitting at Sakusa’s kotatsu and eating takeout from the germaphobe’s favorite place. It was Atsumu’s treat this weekend. It had started snowing on his walk back, so the cozy atmosphere was desperately needed. They eat in silence, the television quietly playing a cheesy Hallmark movie that Sakusa seemed to enjoy for some reason. Atsumu was hardly keeping up with the Japanese subtitles, hyper-focused on the places their legs were connected underneath the table.
Atsumu finishes the last of his food, setting his dish on the table and reclining on the sofa behind him. He fidgets, anxious for Sakusa to finish his food so they can get to business. They had to cancel last weekend, as the MSBY Jackals were all attending the soft opening for Onigiri Miya’s Osaka location. It was fun, and Atsumu would never miss an opportunity to see Sakusa get a little drunk. But he was feeling it now, lacking the typical patience and tact required to maintain any sort of relationship past platonic with Sakusa.
Atsumu takes the gamble, moving his foot with intention in contrast to the meaningless touch they shared until this moment. Sakusa side eyes him, looking back at the television and taking another bite of his food. Atsumu perseveres, his foot trailing up and caressing the inside of Sakusa’s thigh. Sakusa sighs and sets his bowl down on the table.
“I can’t finish my food?” Sakusa turns to Atsumu and asks. Atsumu has the audacity to look shocked at Sakusa’s acknowledgement, as if he can get away with teasing and interrupting dinner.
“Ya eat so slow… how long are ya gonna make me wait?” Atsumu mumbles.
“Forever childish and impatient, Miya. I shouldn’t be surprised.” Sakusa sighs and stands from the table, bowl in hand. Atsumu perks up at that and watches Sakusa go to the kitchen, come back out, and move towards his bedroom. He turns back and looks at Atsumu.
“Are you coming?”
Atsumu scrambles off the floor in reply, quickly taking his dish to the sink. When he comes back to the hallway, Sakusa is gone to the bedroom. He plays with his hair for a moment and tries to check his breath. Whatever, it’s not as if Sakusa suddenly wouldn’t want to sleep with him after doing it for multiple months. He enters the bedroom.
Sakusa is standing beside his bed, pulling on a pair of black latex gloves and removing lube and condoms from his nightstand.
“Get undressed and lay down. You cleaned yourself out, right?”
“Always, Omi.” Atsumu pulls his t-shirt over his head, folding it and placing it on the dresser across from his bed. His pants and boxers follow and he climbs into the bed and plops onto his back, propped up against the headboard. He grabs his cock and gives it a few strokes to get started, always mesmerized by Sakusa’s pre-sex routine.
Finally, Sakusa pours some lube into his right hand, massaging it gently to warm it. He climbs into bed between Atsumu’s legs, spreading them open and kneeling there. He’s notably fully dressed in drastic contrast to Atsumu, who is only wearing socks. Sakusa reaches with his lubed hand, massaging between Atsumu’s cheeks and then moving up to stroke his dick. Atsumu thrusts up into the touch, but Sakusa’s other hand plants itself onto his stomach to hold him down. Sakusa goes back and forth between teasing his hole and stroking his dick.
“Omi- ah- no more teasing. I want your fingers-! Ah, please-“ Atsumu’s cut off by his own moan as two fingers push in at once and start scissoring apart to stretch him wider. Atsumu’s scrambles, grabbing Sakusa behind the neck with one hand and by his upper arm with his other hand. Sakusa glances up from his work to lock eyes with Atsumu, checking in.
“Too much?” Sakusa says, pushing his middle and ring finger knuckle deep to poke at Atsumu’s prostate.
“Nnngn-“ Atsumu gurgles, panting heavily at the drag of fingertips on that bundle of nerves.
“Atsumu?”
“N-no! It’s not too much,” he moans.
“Can I put another finger in?” Atsumu nods. Sakusa is very thorough and efficient every time he preps Atsumu. He tries not to waste too much time on one or two fingers, or else it would take all day to get to the four fingers Atsumu needs to take his dick without injuring himself.
At Atsumu’s confirmation, Sakusa drags the two fingers out, drizzling some more lube on Atsumu’s hole, and going back in slowly with three.
“You’re doing so good, baby.” Sakusa praises. Atsumu whimpers, melting at the pet name. It’s too sweet out of Sakusa’s mouth, too sweet in the context of this casual relationship—Atsumu soaks it up anyway.
After a while—Sakusa’s free hand moving to stroke Atsumu’s dick to keep him relaxed—the fourth and final finger bullies its way into Atsumu’s puffy hole.
“Hurry.. up,” Atsumu complains, throwing an arm over his eyes exasperatingly. Sakusa fucks his fingers in quickly for another minute before withdrawing them, removing the gloves. He pulls away from Atsumu’s hold around his neck, leaning back on his heels. Atsumu puts both his hands at his side, twisting up in the sheets. He watches Sakusa unbutton and unzip his pants, pushing them off his hips enough to pull his dick out. It’s hard, but it flops dramatically between his legs, hanging heavy. Atsumu licks his lips, eager to become reacquainted with the 9” shaft that’s as thick as a can. He reaches down to leisurely stroke his own dick, not small but dwarfed in comparison.
Sakusa slides the condom on, snapping it around the base to make sure it’s nice and tight. He applies extra lube over the condom and swipes some onto Atsumu’s hole as well. Sakusa looks up at Atsumu again, hiking the blonde’s legs around his waist and leaning close.
“You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Atsumu exhales and Sakusa pecks him on the lips before leaning back and pushing the head of his cock in slowly. Atsumu’s mouth falls open and his breath trembles, tugging on his dick and relaxing his muscles through the stretch. Sakusa feeds him inch after inch until their hips meet, and Atsumu can feel Sakusa’s heart beat through his dick.
“Don’t move~!” Atsumu bites out and Sakusa laughs. He leans back down again. “I won’t,” and then they’re kissing. Kissing Sakusa is Atsumu’s favorite part of their arrangement. There is a certain head rush as Atsumu gets to know that Sakusa, the resident germaphobe, trusts him enough to be this close. He’ll chase that high as long as they know each other.
“I think I’m ready,” Atsumu breaks the kiss and whispers into Sakusa’s mouth. Sakusa nods and gives an experimental roll of his hips. Atsumu mewls, wrapping his arms around Sakusa to dig into his back.
“Ya- yer- ah, Omi!” Atsumu tries to string together a sentence but struggles as Sakusa begins slow shallow thrusts.
“What?” Sakusa tries to make sense of Atsumu’s ramblings but he can’t. He slows his thrusts to let the blonde speak.
“‘Want yer shirt off,” Atsumu finally manages, pawing at the hem of it. Sakusa rolls his eyes, sitting up (still connected to Atsumu), and pulling the shirt off. He throws it uncharacteristically and grabs onto the back of Atsumu’s thighs and starts thrusting again.
“Happy?”
“Mmhm, thank ya, Omi~” Atsumu drawls, now able to press his fingertips into the bare skin of Sakusa’s back. Sakusa thrusts hard all the way in, deeper now that he’s holding Atsumu’s legs up and apart. He stops, buried there for a moment and Atsumu whines.
“Why’d ya stop?!” He exclaims, throwing his head against the pillow. “Yer such a tease…”
“Atsu, look.” He feels Sakusa tap his stomach and Atsumu uses his arms to prop himself up on his elbows to see. There, right where Sakusa tapped, Atsumu can see a clear distention that is suspiciously the size of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s obscenely large cock. His jaw drops. He looks to Sakusa and his mouth is similarly wide, fascination across his face. He rolls his hips and they both watch it move.
“Wh-why? That’s never happened before?!” Atsumu says, reaching down to poke at it. They both groan as he presses. Sakusa feels Atsumu tighten, a sensation slightly different from when the entire hole clenches from Atsumu’s muscles. Atsumu feels sudden pressure against his walls and prostate, the movement from the outside stimulating him on the inside.
“Are you- have you- did you lose weight?” Sakusa scrambles to come up with a reasonable explanation.
“No! I just came off a bulk to build muscle, so I guess I’m starting to shed some fat there into muscle?! Or-or, maybe it’s the position?”
“We do missionary all the time, Miya.”
“I don’t know but,” Atsumu presses it again,
“Ah! It- it’s really fucking hot.” He sighs.
“Yeah, yeah it is.”
Atsumu looks to Sakusa again, and he can tell that fascination has turned into hot blooded lust. It makes him blush, the gaze completely overwhelming him.
“Yah can keep going…” Atsumu says shyly.
“Are you sure? We can stop.” Sakusa says, but the look on his face says it’s mostly a polite offer. Atsumu nods, and he rolls his hips down to emphasize his decision. It makes Sakusa groan, and Atsumu can feel and see Sakusa’s dick twitch inside his heat.
“Careful what you wish for.” Sakusa grits between his teeth, and positions his hands finally back to Atsumu’s thighs, effectively folding him in half. The force of his first thrust makes Atsumu’s elbows collapse, and he falls back into the bed. His arms return to wrap around the curly-haired man as they rock together with each thrust. Atsumu can hold his head up just enough to see the bulge come and go over and over as he’s pounded into. It’s utterly intoxicating, to not only feel but see the path that Sakusa’s dick carved through his body.
“M’ not gonna last long. M’ ready to come Omi, please tell me yer close!”
“I’m close. Touch your dick for me, Atsu. I want to come together.” Atsumu does as he’s told, right hand coming to a brutal pace on his neglected dick. His other hand starts scratching red lines down pale skin.
“Keep your leg up.” Atsumu tries his best to keep still as pleasure jolts through his body with the steady pounding into his prostate. Sakusa frees his hand and reaches between them, pressing down on the bulge in Atsumu’s stomach. Atsumu shrieks and throws his head back, no longer able to watch as the feeling consumes him.
“That’s it, cum for me Atsumu.” The demand strikes a cord, and after a couple more strokes Atsumu explodes and paints his stomach with white, just shy of covering Sakusa’s hand. Sakusa thrusts through the peak, pulling out as Atsumu finishes and yanking off the condom. He jerks himself off furiously, finally releasing his load right on top of Atsumu’s. He collapses to the side, Atsumu’s legs falling and they lay flat on their backs side by side. Despite being athletes, it takes them a few minutes to catch their breaths.
When Sakusa finally does, he nestles into Atsumu’s side and presses lazy kisses into the blonde’s neck. This is why Atsumu hooks up with the man. The sweet afterglow is what he desperately craves.
“I hope that happens again.” Atsumu sighs, wrapping his arm around Sakusa. They both avoid the mess on his stomach, procrastinating clean up.
“Me too,” Sakusa laughs, kissing Atsumu.