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To say the last few deep space missions Atsumu had gone on were less than ideal would be taking a mountain and turning it into a molehill. He was all the way out in sector gods damn seventeen, on a swamp planet that had nothing to boast except for knock off moonshine made from bog plants and a prayer.
Didn’t mean he was too good to drink it though.
“Another, thanks,” he grumbled, lifting one finger in the universal symbol to the hybrid bartender with two tentacles swirling a not-so-clean lookin’ rag around shot glasses while their humanoid hands went to work preparing his drink. Almost a decade had passed since Atsumu’d snuck onto a ship out of the Milky Way and not looked back once (okay – maybe a couple times, but only because of ‘Samu – always because of ‘Samu).
Didn’t mean he wasn’t still pissed at his twin for abandoning ship (literally), forging his own path when they were supposed to do this together – take over the god damn galaxy! Maybe Atsumu would have been a little bit closer to his own goal if Osamu hadn’t stayed behind with fuckin’ Rin – at the very least, he’d likely not to be making shady as fuck supply runs to bumfuck nowhere planets.
And the sex – or lack thereof – he’d be a liar thrice over if he said it wasn’t getting to him. Wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried it every which way come Sunday, neither. There weren’t many Earthlings out this far out, but humanoid species were plentiful and if they weren’t around – well, Atsumu wasn’t the type to discriminate. A tentacle up the ass didn’t hurt nobody, and what he did in the privacy of his bedroom (or any available room), was his business.
This particular evening, however, he had an itch to scratch and nothing but being the one doing the fucking was going to get it. So, he wallowed, the likelihood of finding someone interested in doing so and attractive a solid 0.5% in this backwater bar. If he’d been a betting man (and he was sure his Ma thanked the stars every day he wasn’t), he would have put money on it.
Better that he didn’t, when the door flung up with a bang and the most beautiful alien he’d ever seen before walked in stiffly after. He was trailed by another of his species, an awkward looking masculine framed being with the weirdest set of ridges above his eyes – that didn’t matter though. Atsumu’s eyes trailed the alien as he came to sit on the far end of the bar, bringing out some kind of sanitizing spray and spritzing it a couple of times before determining the surface suitable to (gingerly) rest his covered elbows against.
“Fuck,” he whispered, voice sounding hoarse even to his own ears. Hot as fuck and weird? He’d hit the god damn jackpot – so long as the other could be coaxed into heading somewhere a little more private.
Contrary to popular belief (or maybe just the belief of his twin), the almost thirty-year-old wasn’t a complete and total idiot. Sure, he’d stuck his foot down in his throat more times than he could count during their formative years – but he’d grown since then, evolved even, and he knew how to pick somebody up at a bar, if nothing else. Accepting his refreshed drink with a grateful nod to the bartender, Atsumu was sliding off his stool in the next moment, knocking the shot back without a word, and sauntering down the row of stools to occupy the one two over from the object of his interest.
He sat there, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment, the alien’s dialect washing over him in a series of lengthened consonants and an aggressive amount of hissing, though no one seemed particularly upset. Briefly, he wondered if they were a Vulkan like species, no emotions to be shown (at least not publicly) before he shook his head and snorted to himself. Hadn’t he learned during his time as the captain of a ship (and mechanic and whipping boy before that), Earth pop culture and Science Fiction was liable to get more wrong than right?
Another minute passed, and he drummed his fingers on the bar, the buzz from the alcohol a pleasant, warm hum in the back of his mind as he rested his chin against the hand propped up via elbow on the bar’s surface. Wearing a long-sleeved undershirt, he couldn’t feel the stick of the vinyl surface, but he felt it in his mind as if he could. Privately, he wondered if after all was said and done, the alien would let him know where he found that sanitizing spray. Of course, nothing was going to happen if they didn’t get a move on here so – clearing his throat, he raised his free hand to tap on the other’s shoulder, starting when the alien grabbed his wrist in the blink of an eye, stopping him from getting any closer.
“What do you want?” he hissed, the masculine timber of his voice sinking down to Atsumu’s very core and (almost) pulling an embarrassing sound up and through his lips. “Are all Earthlings as rude as you or are you the exception that proves the rule?” The accented common language was a balm to the blond’s ears, and he wanted to lean in, press his ear to the chest that was sure to be rumbling with that delicious-sounding frustration.
Clearing his throat and shaking his head to evacuate the haze that had begun to permeate, Atsumu snorted, a slow, easy smile growing on his face as he twisted his hand in the alien’s grip to grab him back. “Don’t know how many Earthlings ya met out in these parts, but I’m one of a kind,” he replied with a wink. “Name’s Miya Atsumu, but ya can call me Atsumu.”
The alien, disgust gracing every line of his interesting features, dropped the hand he’d grabbed before wiping his own off against the bright green tunic draped over his lithe torso. Now afforded a closer vantage point, Atsumu took his time in looking in his feel. The alien was tall – likely taller than him, and while he was obviously humanoid enough, everything about him quite literally screamed alien. From the harsh brow ridges that jutted out a half inch from the smooth, pale green skin of his face to the jutting, twitching antenna sprouting from dark pine needle green-black curls on his head.
God, Atsumu was a horny piece of shit, but he couldn’t wait to see what the other was packing underneath.
The stranger brought out the disinfectant spray again, this time focusing on his hands, while his companion leaned around the bar, grin firmly in place. “Hi! I’m Komori Motoya and this is Sakusa Kiyoomi. It’s very nice to meet you, Earthling Atsumu!”
The other alien – Komori – sounded like a fuckin’ golden retriever puppy, but so long as he didn’t cockblock Atsumu, who was he to mind a little bit of positive energy? Especially in the wake of Sakusa’s glacial indifference.
“Nice ta meet ya as well,” he said with a friendly nod, eyes never quite leaving Sakusa’s hands, the methodical way he sprayed and then scrubbed before spraying again. He wondered if the man would scrub him down before letting them have their way with one another. Kinda hoped so, if he was as thorough with everyone else as he was with himself.
Grumbling something in that language, Sakusa – Omi, Atsumu decided, he looked like an Omi – turned his back entirely to the blond before continuing his speech – something pointed and snappy by the sound of it. Atsumu took advantage of the change in perspective to admire the alien’s backside, difficult given the tunic’s interreference, but it looked tight and slim, waist very grabbable during rough fucking. At the thought alone, his cock beginning to fill out and he shifted in his seat. It’d be nice if they could skip past all this foreplay and go straight to the main event, but Omi needed to be wooed. That was alright, nothing he’d not done before.
Suddenly, Komori was raising his voice in – excitement? Had Atsumu needed to hazard a guess and pointing aggressively at the blond. He grinned, having no fucking clue what was going on, though it could hardly be bad if it redirected Omi’s attention back to him.
The dark-haired alien turned back, a disgusted sneer on his face initially though swiftly replaced by something more neutral and contemplative. Finally – with a sigh – he muttered something under his breath to this friend? Co-worker? Who the hell could even tell! Before he stood, grabbed the clothed part of Atsumu’s arm, and begin dragging him away. “Come along,” he said, mouth pressed in a thin line while the blond’s legs figured out how to work under him again.
“Shit – yeah, alright, Omi!” he said with a laugh. “Don’t gotta tell me twice.”
Perhaps, if Atsumu were a little less easy, and a little more cautious, he would have thought twice about the quick change in heart. Unfortunately (for him), he was not.
He was no slouch in the gym, but still, as he ‘let’ the alien lead him through the Podunk space port to a ship that looked far too sleek and modern to be docked there, Atsumu was forced to reckon with the fact that if Omi wanted to drag him somewhere he didn’t want to go, he’d be pretty damn powerless to stop him. Neither could he ignore the shooting thrill up his spine at the thought. Sure, he’d come onto the alien with the intention of dominating the fuck out of him (and still, hopefully, would), but he had always been a flexible sort of guy.
The excitement in his gut only rose as he was led into what could only be the captain’s quarters and Omi barked at him (the first words spoken since leaving the bar) to get the fuck into the bathroom, shower, and come back in a towel – only. Atsumu jumped to it, ensuring to clean particularly well around his dick (it had been a minute, alright? And he wasn’t losing this golden opportunity over a lack of thoroughness in his cleaning routine), before grabbing one of the plush black towels resting on a shelf inset into the wall.
Kinda wishing he had the time to dry his hair, Atsumu was pulled between the desire to look his best and the urgent need to fuck the alien deep into his bed. The latter won out without much fuss, and he wrapped the towel low on his waist and sauntered back through the sliding door.
Half expecting Omi to have left him there, better sense returning to the alien, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight waiting for him on the bed. The lithe man was spread out long and enticing and stark naked, one leg crossed neatly over the other. Even still, Atsumu’s eyes bulls-eyed straight to his cunt, neat and trimmed curls framing it, before his gaze traveled upward – his nipples were almost the same shade as his hair, he thought absently, pointed and straining with arousal.
His hands were straining, twisted in the fabric on top of the bed, and his cheeks were darkened – woulda been rosy if their skin was the same, Atsumu figured – breathing a little deeper than he had been before. “Thought you wanted to fuck me?” Omi panted, eyes flashing with a challenge.
Who was Atsumu to back down from it? Dropping the towel, he smirked and walked over to the alien, keeping his steps measured and slow. “Yeah, but I wanna make it good fer ya, too, Omi,” he murmured, pressing one knee into the bed, gingerly half kneeling as he reached to brush a tentative hand along one of those long, long legs. Omi’s skin was cool to the touch, and soft – but not smooth in the way typical humanoid skin was, almost like it was made up of millions of tiny, interlocking scales knitted and stitched together.
The other grunted. “Can hardly be bad unless you’re feeling reticent to stick your cock in me. You have had sex with off-world beings in the past, yes?” Omi’s eyes narrowed with the question, though the veins in his neck were going dark with the strain he was obviously exhibiting. Atsumu had no idea what he’d done to inspire this kind of reaction, but if Omi wanted to grab and ride him into the night, he wasn’t going to say no.
“Ya ain’t my first rodeo, Omi,” he murmured, allowing his fingers to dance higher, brushing just against the curls above his cunt, already damp with sweat and arousal. “Not feeling ret-ee-zent though, just wanna take my time with ya.” He had a reputation to uphold, even if Omi didn’t know about it.
The alien grunted, and Atsumu glanced up in time to catch the slightest roll of his eyes. “Do what you must,” he grumbled.
The blond grinned. “Oh, I will. Don’t ya worry about that.”
Scrambling all the way on the bed, Atsumu settled himself over the alien, straddling his hips, the head of his cock just brushing against his pubes before he lowered his mouth to Omi’s neck. “Tell me – does yer kind like to kiss?” he murmured between light, sucking bites. Feeling hips buck up against his erection, he grinned against skin that was slowly becoming mottled with his trace.
“I – ah, understand it’s an important part of humanoid copulation – shit,” Omi groaned, hips bucking up again, seeking purchase and relief. “So, if you must.”
That was all the excuse Atsumu needed, surging up to press his lips against Omi’s, tongue immediately licking against the seam and into the alien’s mouth. He found the tips of two wicked sharp fangs and groaned, testing and tasting them with his tongue. He wondered what they would feel like against his throat, biting into his thigh – fuck, even around his cock, and his hips returned the favor, a slow grind against the alien’s smooth stomach providing just enough friction to piss him off.
Kissing was clearly not something the alien had much experience in, if the clumsy, half-haphazard attempts to return the affection were anything to go off, but what Omi lacked in experienced he made up for in enthusiasm in spades. Soon, it was Atsumu who was left panting like a teenager about to get their dick wet for the first time. As they made out, the heady musk of Omi’s cunt had begun to seep into the air, clinging to him like morning dew. It spurred Atsumu onward, one hand beginning the slow crawl downward, stopping briefly to tweak a nipple along the way, until his fingers once more found those curls and what lay below them.
Physically speaking on the exterior, Omi looked not too dissimilar from an “Earthling” as he called them, though his tits were less tit-like than Atsumu had expected. As he gently nudged one finger inside, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the cunt was exactly as he remembered them to be. Warm and wet, that first finger was quickly drawn inside, pressing forward again and again in a slick glide.
“More, fuck – more, Atsumu,” the other moaned around sloppy, lust drunk kisses.
Dragging his mouth from Omi’s, he really began working the skin of his neck even as he prepared the alien to take a second of his fingers, spurred on by the sweet sounds his lover was making. A third and fourth quickly followed, Omi’s cunt clenching and gushing around him intermittently between bouts of begging for Atsumu’s cock. He appeared to have a clit, which was given liberal attention with his thumb, to the point that his legs were shaking by the time the man was ready to line his cock up to the slick soaked entrance.
“Ya ready, Omi baby?” he teased, rubbing the head slowly against the wet slit, drenching himself in arousal fluid, biting his lower lip to keep himself from thrusting in one go. Omi’d been so good, he deserved better.
“I’ve – ah, ah, ohhhhh – been ready, asshole,” the alien murmured through moans, one of his heels coming up to dig into Atsumu’s back, pulling him forward even as the blond pressed downward, testing the flow out with a slow, shallow thrust.
A second heel joined the first and everything quickly devolved into fast and deep, the room filling with the wet slap of his cock against Omi’s cunt, going further and further inside with every new thrust, paving his way, leaving his mark as he widened the passageway. “Nobody ever gonna fuck ya like me,” Atsumu panted, working hard to keep the thrusts even, though Omi looked too fucked out to even notice, eyes screwed shut and mouth open.
“So – so full,” Omi moaned. “You’re filling me so well.”
Unable to stop himself from preening (or showing off a bit), the blond kept going, thrusting further until the base of his cock was meeting the lips of the alien’s cunt. Deep inside Omi’s cunt, Atsumu was pulled out of his own head and into the reality that there was something - tendril? Wrapping its way around his cock - from the inside. Jolting slightly, only Omi’s heels dug in his back kept him from jarring himself loose.
“No - not yet,” the alien hissed, breathless. “It’s almost - almost ready.”
A second tendril joined the first and - shit if it didn’t feel good. Atsumu was so lost in the sensation, the sweet caress of those tendrils – like long, silky-smooth fingers, that he almost didn’t notice Omi adjusting their position. Not that he minded, on his back he had the best view in the room.
Sweat slicked, breathing heavily, and flushed dark, Omi was breathtaking as he straddled Atsumu’s cock, cunt clenching down around those sweet tendrils still working up and down his shaft. “God, yer a fuckin’ dream,” the blond groaned, gripping into the alien’s hips so hard he feared he might leave a bruise.
Hopefully Omi was into that.
“Almost the – there,” the alien panted, eyes rolling up in his head in conjunction with the undulation of his hips. “You’re going to take them so well, Atsumu, fuck.”
Not quite sure what to make of those words (wasn’t he already taking him? Or was he being taken? Take them? Shit – had he been using the wrong gender identifiers this whole time – Atsumu was starting to lose the plot), he elected to ignore them in favor of thrusting deeper.
“Yes – yes, there it is – hit my cervix – so, so close.”
He’d never specifically fucked someone into their cervix before, but he certainly wasn’t opposed to it, but Omi was going to need to be flush against him for that to work. Grip tightening even further, Atsumu used hard-won muscles to lift the slender alien before slamming him down, locking him in place even as he felt the tip of his cockhead breach somewhere entirely unknown.
Fuck yeah, he was boldly gonna go where no one had gone before – or whatever they said on that old show.
The tendrils, previously ghosting around his cock, tightened and thickened at once, preventing any movement other than forward and if he hadn’t already felt his orgasm building (he had), Atsumu knew this was what was going to do it for him. “I’m gonna – shit, fuck, I’m comin’, Omi –“ Atsumu groaned as white-hot heat exploded in his gut, painting the insides of the alien’s cervix white with his spend, coating them in such a way he’d (hopefully) be dripping the rest of the day.
Groaning, the alien managed to grind down even further, mouth open as sounds of pleasure spilled out from him. Atsumu, beginning to come down from the high of his own orgasm, was all too aware, then, of what happened next.
The tendrils weren’t letting go, and his cock (as far as he could tell) was still tip deep into the alien’s cervix. All of that was fine and well, normal (enough – everything was relative after years in space and a lot of sex), until he felt an uncertain pressure against the slit of his cock.
“Omi – uh –“
“Just, breathe through it,” Omi murmured, his voice sounding a little less fucked out, a little more in control. “It’ll feel good, promise.”
“What’s gonna – oh, shit,” Atsumu groaned.
No stranger to experimentation in the bedroom, Atsumu had been known to stick things in places where most would not. Primarily up his ass, but his dick had been fair game once or twice. This was unlike anything he’d felt before. Something, roughly half an inch in diameter if he had to guess, was being pressed through his slit, flowing down his urethra and –
“What the fuck,” the blond panted. Another was coming right after and – mid-confused panic, he wondered if, his dick was visible, he could see them sliding down. There was something kind of hot about it that had him twitching inside, another wave of slick sliding out of Omi’s cunt, onto his torso.
Omi panted; strain evident in the crease between his eyes. They looked like dark starlight, the lightest of pupils winking at him when they opened. “Almost – almost done, just have to lay one more. So good, Atsumu, you’re doing so well.”
Sure enough, a third sphere was pushed through, all the way down his shaft, and only when the tendril helping them along the way was certain they were secure (where, Atsumu had no fuckin’ clue), did it retreat. Simultaneously, the slender tentacles holding his cock in place detached and presumably melted into the walls of Omi’s canal, disappearing as if they’d never been there at all.
After that, things moved quickly – or not at all, but either way Atsumu was left moaning flat on his pack, orgasm wrung from him and left – well, he couldn’t quite tell what had happened, but he wasn’t moving anytime soon so he hoped Omi didn’t mind a guest.
The alien slid off, his cock falling limp against his thigh with nothing left to hold it erect, and Omi gingerly escaped the bed, reaching for a hidden drawer in the wall to withdraw – a towel? He tossed it on the bed before grabbing another, though he made no move to actually wipe himself. “Thank you for your assistance, Atsumu,” he began, his voice only carrying a hint of breathlessness now. “Breeding season is always incredibly taxing for me, and I’ve been waiting to lay those eggs for at least a month.”
It was in that moment, that Atsumu’s brain shorted out properly. Eggs – breeding season? Blinking slowly, he stared at the alien for a very long time before he replied.
“Uh, Omi. Ya put – ya put yer fuckin’ eggs in me?”
“Yes, Atsumu. What was confusing about that to you? Would you like another demonstration?”
Atsumu shook his head, mind still muddled from the best orgasm of his life alongside the weird, pressing sensation of the – fuck, eggs, inside of him. “I just – don’t most aliens with uh, yer parts,” he nodded awkwardly to Omi’s crotch, “do the egg hatching part?”
Snorting, Omi stared at him from where he stood beside the bed, wiping himself down with a spare towel, removing Atsumu’s scent from his body (something he was not going to feel emotional about – no), an unimpressed look on his face. “I thought you said you’ve been with off-world beings before?” he asked, just the barest hint of amusement underlying the words. “I might not have said yes if I’d known you were a virgin.”
Now that – that was just too far, and Atsumu squawked, pushing himself up in spite of the uncomfortable pressure in his bladder. “I ain’t a fuckin’ virgin!” he spat. “Got rid of that shit when I was eighteen – doesn’t mean anybody’s ever had the chance to lay god damn eggs inside me, though.”
At that, Omi’s mouth curved up on one side, the facsimile of a smile. “Good. I like being the first one,” he murmured, dropping the cloth and coming closer, ghosting his mouth over Atsumu’s. “You should keep them; birth our little half-breed clutch.”
Nodding once, throat dry, Atsumu made a little sound of assent in the back of his throat. “O-okay, Omi. I’ll keep ‘em.” He didn’t even begin to know what that meant (or if he could piss because his bladder felt like it was going to fuckin’ explode and he doubted sending their kids down the damn drain would win him any favors), but he knew that anything with Omi had to be better than what he’d been fucking around doing for the last few years.
“Go to sleep, Atsumu,” Omi murmured, brushing a slow, sweet kiss against his mouth. “You’re going to need it.”
The last thing he remembered before drifting off was the gentle sweep of a damp cloth against his dick, and then he was in the dreamless abyss of sleep.