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Three days ago Sakusa told Atsumu he wanted to try his hand at giving a blowjob, and three days ago Atsumu agreed to be his first test subject, like the dumb whore he was.
Now, with his pants down to his ankles and Sakusa's pouty lips pursed at him from between his knees, it hits Atsumu all at once that this is a very bad idea.
"Stop staring at me. I can't do anything with you looking at me," Sakusa snaps, gripping the waistband of Atsumu's briefs a little tighter. Oh right, Sakusa was pulling his underwear down right now. No biggie.
Instead of a coherent answer, Atsumu lets out a garbled whimper, but obediently averts his gaze to a poster on Sakusa's wall. It's a poster of Atsumu, because of course it is. He looks up to the ceiling with a shaky exhale.
This position is somehow even worse. His eyes squeeze closed as fabric rustles and a wave of cool air sweeps over his ass and upper thighs. He settles them back down on Sakusa's freshly washed comforter, muscles tight with anticipation. Atsumu cracks open one eye for a peek.
His dick stands straight up, blushing pink and eager. Atsumu would be embarrassed by how affected he was by just getting half naked, but Sakusa's eyes are locked on his cock, staring at it with visible hunger. His eyes bulge cartoonishly in their sockets, and a telltale dusting of red overtakes his cheeks and ears. Yeah, I know, Atsumu thinks. I'm pretty fucking big, huh? Atsumu's dick twitches with a jolt of pride and arousal.
"Now who's staring?" Atsumu grins cheekily down at Sakusa, who shoots him a glare.
"Don't talk to me," Sakusa huffs, readjusting his position on the floor. His hands slide from Atsumu's knees to his inner thighs, and Atsumu's breath stutters. Sakusa's touch is cold, but it excites him more than anything. He wants those fingers on his cock.
"Let's pick up the pace, Omi-kun. Ya wanted my advice right? It's not nice to keep yer partner waiting."
"You don't deserve me being nice to you," Sakusa says, and leans in to take Atsumu between his lips. He plays with the tip cautiously, his tongue slowly brushing licks along Atsumu’s shaft. Atsumu breathes in deeply, steeling himself and trying his best not to move a muscle.
Plush, pink lips slide over Atsumu’s cock as Sakusa takes him in deeper. A wet, warm pressure envelopes him, and Atsumu suppresses the urge to fuck into Sakusa’s mouth. Making someone gag and possibly vomit all over his dick on their first time giving a blowjob isn’t very sexy.
Atsumu brings a hand up and slides it down the side of his face, silently screaming. This is weird. This is so, so weird. As teammates, they're barely friendly, and Atsumu cannot for the life of him, comprehend how the fuck they got into this situation.
Atsumu knows Sakusa is hot, of fucking course he isn't blind , but it's always been this unattainable, stuck-up and obnoxious kind of sexy that Atsumu files away in his brain to the ‘Not The Type To Ever Fuck You’ section, so to say that he's kinda freaking out and his brain feels like mush is an understatement.
Sakusa wraps one hand around the base of Atsumu’s dick, jerking up and down slowly where he can’t fit it into his mouth. The contrast is exhilarating—Sakusa’s hot mouth, dripping with spit, and his dry, rough palms. His lips are wrapped tight around his teeth, so all Atsumu feels is sweet, silky skin. Sakusa bobs his head and hums, sending a tingle up Atsumu’s spine.
Holy shit, does Sakusa Kiyoomi actually give good head?
Atsumu bites his cheek to stay quiet when Sakusa runs his tongue on the underside of his dick, pressing up against where Atsumu knows he has a prominent vein. He tries to control his breathing, not wanting to sound too affected when Sakusa has barely done anything yet. Atsumu knows he has good stamina, but there’s just something about Sakusa that makes his blood run hot.
His eyes flicker to Sakusa’s face, brow furrowed in concentration and cheeks flushed. Sweat springs up from his hairline, letting the curls fanning his forehead and cheekbones stick to his skin. Atsumu’s gaze trails down to Sakusa’s mouth, his pretty plump lips stretched open on Atsumu’s cock. It's almost hypnotizing, watching those lips slide up and down on his shaft and feeling the wet heat consume him at the same time. When Sakusa’s mouth stretches wider, and what could have been saliva or Atsumu’s own precome drips down his chin, Atsumu tightens every goddamn muscle in his body to stop himself from slamming in deeper.
And then Sakusa pops off his dick with a wet slurp, and Atsumu’s heat stutters. He gapes down at Sakusa, who pulls out a fucking hankerchief out of his pocket and wipes the mix of spit and precome off his mouth.
"Okay, I'm not doing this anymore," Sakusa gripes, throwing his hands up in the air.
"What the hell? What happened? Why'd ya stop?" Atsumu clutches the sheets in his fist, worry seeping into his shoulders. Did he do something wrong? He thought he was doing a fairly good job to not overwhelm Sakusa and scare him off, but maybe Atsumu had misjudged himself.
"You're obviously not enjoying it. You've hardly reacted to anything I've done," Sakusa pouts. Even though Atsumu is the one with his pants off and his boner out, Sakusa looks almost sheepish, wringing his hands in his lap and pouting at the floor. Atsumu blinks at him as the anxiety melts away, replaced with a bewildered, murky buzzing in his head.
"Omi-kun, yer so fucking stupid,” he laughs. Sakusa glares at him.
"I can still bite your dick off, asshole."
Atsumu shakes his head and sighs. He should have expected someone as pompous as Sakusa to take silence during sex as a blow to his ego. Atsumu can’t blame him, there's a certain power rush associated when you can make your partner scream.
"That came out wrong! Look, I was tryin' to be gentlemanly, ya know? It would be pretty hard fer ya ta try and suck me off if I was just jammin' my dick down yer throat until ya couldn't breathe."
Sakusa sucks in a sharp inhale, the color on his cheeks deepening instantly.
"I wouldn't—I don't—" Sakusa’s eyes flit down to between Atsumu’s legs for a split second, but it’s long enough for Atsumu to catch, and something hot unfurls in the base of his stomach. Interesting. "Let's try this again. Don't hold back on me this time, Atsumu. It's rude,” Sakusa says flatly, grabbing the base of Atsumu’s dick again.
"Whatever ya'd like, Omi," he says slowly, shifting further down the bed and closer to Sakusa’s face.
Sakusa slurps his tip back into his mouth with eagerness, and Atsumu doesn’t muffle his groan this time.
"Good. So good, Omi," he says, a little breathy, as Sakusa brings his hands up to clutch Atsumu’s bare thighs and push his face deeper between Atsumu’s legs. Holy shit, was Sakusa trying to deepthroat him on his first try?
"Mhmm. Yeah, suck a little harder, don't be shy now," he encourages, hips grinding a small, gentle rhythm as Sakusa sucks, sucks, and sucks more. His cheeks hollow and his tongue moves unabating all over the underside of Atsumu’s cock. Atsumu doesn’t think he’s ever been sucked so thoroughly before.
Heart pounding against his ribs, Atsumu throws his head back and moans, loudly. He can feel the way Sakusa surges forward in response, the tip of his nose brushing up against the hair at the base of Atsumu's dick. Atsumu's hands fly to Sakusa's hair, and he yanks him even closer, barely registering Sakusa's startled cry.
“Fuckin' hell—”
Overcome by a wave of pleasure, and he can’t stop himself back from thrusting deep into that slick warmth. Sakusa makes a startled noise around his dick, and his throat constricts, instinctively swallowing. The tightness sends another spike of pleasure through Atsumu's veins, leaving his skin tingling. Through the haze, he registers Sakusa still choking on his dick, and panics.
"Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry. Won't happen again," he apologizes, easing himself out of Sakusa's abused mouth. Atsumu bites his lip and braves a glance down at Sakusa, hoping to every god in existence that he wasn't about to get kicked to the curb while still hard as a rock, or possibly punched in the face for being an absolute jackass, or maybe Sakusa is finally just gonna murder him right here and now—
But Sakusa scrambles to keep Atsumu in his mouth, digging his nails into the meat of Atsumu's thighs to keep him still. Tears threaten to burst from Sakusa's eyes but he keeps his gaze fixed on Atsumu, not blinking and giving Atsumu the most unabashed, pleading stare. Practically begging.
Sakusa squirms in place. Lets out a high, sharp keen. It clicks in Atsumu's mind right then and there, the realization breaking through his cloudy thoughts like the distant roll of thunder in a pounding rainstorm.
"Ya like that?" Atsumu's voice sounds rough in his own ears. Sakusa moans, then shivers, and Atsumu's dick slides an inch further down his throat.
Atsumu swallows. His own throat is dry and scratchy, but he hardly registers it over the rush of blood between his legs. Oh hell yeah, he could work with this.
"Ya've done a lot of orderin' me around tonight, Omi. What was it, two—no, three times? I think it's my turn now." Another moan. Atsumu leans on his left arm, and fists his hand in Sakusa's curls again. "This okay?" Sakusa bobs his head in response, and Atsumu can't hold back his hips when they jerk forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of Sakusa's throat. The spasm and squeeze around his dick feels tighter than anything Atsumu has ever felt before. God, it's good.
He pulls out, and Sakusa immediately starts coughing and gagging repeatedly. His body shakes with the force of each cough, and Atsumu grimaces, hoping he hadn't pushed too far.
"Okay, I actually need like, verbal confirmation though. Did ya want me to use yer mouth, or…?"
"You're—ruining—the—mood—asshole—" Sakusa rasps out, rubbing his throat. Atsumu pets the top of his head soothingly, waiting for Sakusa to catch his breath. Sakusa leans into his touch with a strangled whine.
“I still need an answer, baby,” Atsumu murmurs, once Sakusa’s wheezes die down. Sakusa’s eyes creep open, his thick lashes and his flopping bangs still shielding his expression from Atsumu.
"Yes. Yes, I want it," he chokes out.
"What do ya want?"
"Come on, Miya, can't you just—" Sakusa twists petulantly on the floor, and meets Atsumu’s eyes with a glare. Atsumu tugs on his hair, trying to encourage him.
"No can do, Omi. Ya gotta use yer words like a big boy."
Sakusa huffs angrily, and narrows his eyes at a spot on the bed like he’s trying to burn a hole into it.
"I want you. To be rough with me." He flicks his gaze up to Atsumu’s for an instant, then looks away again.
"And?"
"And—fucking hell,” Sakusa whines, blushing harder. He leans into where Atsumu still has a grip on his hair, his eyes slipping closed. “Use my mouth—fuck my throat as hard as you can. Fuck, make me choke on it, Atsumu. Please. Please. "
It’s filthy music to Atsumu’s ears. He should have known uptight, high-and-mighty Sakusa Kiyoomi would be a freak bitch in bed. His dick pulses. Atsumu thinks he might actually be into that.
Atsumu chuckles lowly. “Well, how can I say no when ya ask so nicely?”
Sakusa’s tongue peeks out from between his teeth, and his eyes widen. Atsumu uses his grip on Sakusa’s hair to line the opening of his mouth to the tip of Atsumu’s dick, and pauses for one second to assess Sakusa’s reaction.
Sakusa’s eyes are closed. His cheeks, ears, and neck burn so red that it looks painful. His tongue flattens against his bottom lip, inviting Atsumu inside. Atsumu doesn’t think he’s seen anything so tempting. When he inches the slightest bit forward, Sakusa grips Atsumu’s thighs in each of his hands, pushing him closer.
"Tap twice on my thigh if I do something ya don't like," he murmurs, and then fucks into Sakusa's mouth like his life depends on it.
He gets deeper and deeper with every thrust, falling into a relentless rhythm with each snap of his hips. The tight, wet warmth of Sakusa's throat is unbelievably good— Atsumu fears he might not be able to pull out if Sakusa actually started choking.
When Sakusa moans, Atsumu feels the vibrations all the way to the base of his dick. He can't get over how fucking amazing it felt, to be balls deep into Sakusa's mouth.
Fucking someone's mouth has always been something Atsumu avoided with previous people he'd slept with, just because Atsumu knew his dick was on the larger end of the scale and could very well be considered a certified choking hazard. Atsumu can't help but wonder how the hell Sakusa manages to handle Atsumu's full package stuffing his throat, especially since Atsumu could feel firsthand that his mouth was rather small for a 189 cm tall man to have. His ass has to be even better, a small voice in the back of Atsumu's head whispers. to A groan escapes past his lips at the thought.
“Ya make me wanna fuckin’ lose control, Omi,” Atsumu mutters, sliding a hand from the back of Sakusa's head to the corner of his mouth. Atsumu swipes his thumb over a wet spot adjacent to Sakusa's bottom lip, resisting the urge to bring it to his own mouth and taste it. He spreads it around Sakusa's lips instead, leaving them glistening in the dim lighting. Fucking gorgeous, Atsumu thinks. He doesn't say it out loud.
Atsumu licks his lips at the sight, his mouth dry from how heavy his breathing has become. His head feels dizzy from the continuous waves of pleasure striking through his veins and making his blood pump faster, hotter. He could go crazy off of this feeling.
“So perfect fer me,” Atsumu purrs, picking up speed with his thrusts. Sakusa whines, the sound mixing with the obscene squelch of Atsumu's dick diving into his mouth over and over again. He feels hands shift from the outside of his thighs to the inside, and then reach up to cup his balls, kneading them in tune with Atsumu’s thrusts. Atsumu gasps, electricity racing up his spine at the feeling, but he can't have that.
“Don’t touch me,” he growls, ripping his hands out of Sakusa's curls to grab both of his wrists. Sakusa tries to gasp around his cock, ending up with more of a warbled inhale.
“Jerk yerself off, instead,” Atsumu orders. He releases Sakusa's hands, and smirks as he watches the zipper being pulled down, the white cotton boxers being pushed aside, and finally, finally, Sakusa's pretty pink cock springing out from beneath the fabric, already dripping. Sakusa grips himself with one hand, and the other stays firmly wrapped around Atsumu's calf for purchase. “I wantcha ta come while my cock is still down yer throat,” Atsumu finishes. His words force a whimper out of Sakusa, already pumping his hand quickly, spreading precome all over his shaft.
Atsumu doesn't realize his eyes are closed until he hears Sakusa start to whine incessantly. His eyes fly open, and he feels lightheaded with what sits in front of him. One look at Sakusa's flushed skin, his wild, blurred eyes, and his shaking shoulders and Atsumu knows he's coming. He gets a one second peek at Sakusa's wrist twisting around his dick before thick ropes of come spurt out of it, spilling over his fingers and the fabric of his sweatpants.
"Shit," Atsumu rasps. He's sucking in air as fast as he can while his dick pulses around the tight, spasming hole. "Yer gonna make me come to, baby. I'm— I'm—"
He throws his head back, hips jutting without abandon as he feels an intense pressure coil in the pit of his stomach.
The pressure builds, and finally hits a tipping point. His thighs tremble, his hips stutter, and he yanks on Sakusa's hair hard enough to make him scream. Atsumu spills down Sakusa’s throat with one last unhinged thrust, and his body seizes up.
He pulls out, and is greeted with the sight of Sakusa on his knees, hands still on his softening dick, with Atsumu’s come dripping down his bottom lip and chin. He stares up at Atsumu with a glazed, blissed out expression, eyes watery and unfocused. The creepy, perverted part of Atsumu's brain purrs with satisfaction.
They both collapse onto the bed, breathing heavy. Atsumu can still feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He tucks himself back into his pants, too exhausted to think about cleaning up just yet. Maybe they can go for round two in a bit, if Atsumu’s lucky. He shifts to his side, facing the wall.
“Why do ya have a poster of me on yer wall,” Atsumu blurts out, staring at his own cocky smirk once again.
“I jack off to it,” Sakusa pants without hesitation. Atsumu blinks. He didn’t expect such a candid answer.
“Hmm. Okay. Good ta know. Thanks for yer honesty,” Atsumu says, thoughts muddying. The image of Sakusa alone in his room, looking up at a picture of Atsumu while he stuffed a hand down his pants takes full front and center up in Atsumu’s mind. Christ, if that wasn’t the hottest shit. Did Sakusa ever moan his name, or fuck his own fingers into his ass wishing it was Atsumu’s cock?
"What are we?" Sakusa asks in between pants.
Yer askin' me that now ?" Atsumu groans, rolling over to face him. Sakusa lays flat on his back, his profile illuminated by the dim lampshade on the bedside table to his left. His eyes are half-lidded, giving Atsumu a view of his full, long lashes. His breath continued to leave his chest in deep, open-mouth pants, and Atsumu took advantage to stare at his lips again. The pretty pink stained with white sends a flurry of emotions through Atsumu’s chest. He's not one to DTR just for one blowjob, but goddamn, it was a pretty mind-blowingly good blowjob.
"Fuckbuddies?"
Sakusa wrinkles his nose. "I hate that term. So distasteful." What a fucking priss.
"Friends with benefits, then?"
"You are not my friend," he bites out.
"Wha—why not?” Atsumu cries, affronted. “I think of you as my friend. My bro. My homie. Even if you're a bit of a hoe." Atsumu gasps, and snaps his fingers. "I got it. Hoe-mie. Get it? Like homie, but you're also my hoe." He barks out a laugh. He whips his head to the side and waggles his eyebrows at Sakusa, who looks back at him with a disgusted expression.
"Be my hoemie, Omi," Atsumu giggles.
Sakusa screams into his pillow.