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“Hahaaa, four-twentyyy,” Bokuto sings, his voice ringing clear over the sound of water bubbling through glass. “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em!”
Kuroo’s too full of smoke to comment on the fact that it’s actually closer to 12:47 in the morning, and that Bokuto had just changed the clock in his car to 4:20 for shits and giggles. He tries not to laugh, focusing instead on clearing the bong held between his thighs in the passenger seat. When he pulls away, he opens his mouth and billows a literal stormcloud of smoke into the already hazy air, at which Bokuto barks out an impressed laugh.
“Jesus,” Kuroo croaks, shaking his head slightly and reaching for the massive Slurpee cup sitting in the center console. It’s half-melted by now, but it soothes the itch at the back of his throat anyway, saving him from what would have undoubtedly become a distinctly unimpressive coughing fit.
As Bokuto reaches over and snags the bong, Kuroo blinks a few good times, his eyes stinging in the thick haze. “Seriously, dude,” he says, turning to watch Bokuto pack more weed into the bowl. “You must have the lungs of a synchronized swimmer if that’s your usual piece.”
“It’s the best!” Bokuto grins at him again, then balances the wide base of the bong on one of his strong thighs. “It’s the only one I don’t have to, like, fold myself in half to reach.”
“You could just hold them,” Kuroo snorts.
Bokuto shrugs lazily, then looses a theatrical breath and puts his lips to the mouthpiece. Didn’t even wipe Kuroo’s cooties off first. Kuroo grins. He watches as Bokuto braces the bong with one hand and lights the bowl with the other, his long, pale eyelashes almost brushing his cheeks, and Kuroo’s heart only jitters a little bit.
It’s past midnight on a rainy Wednesday in February, and they’re hotboxing Bokuto’s parked car in a dark corner of the community college parking lot, and some slow, bass-y alt music is wheedling through the speakers courtesy of Bokuto’s (read: stolen from Akaashi) iPod. And Bokuto clears his enormous bong with brutal, nearly artistic, efficiency, holding it for a second, likely letting smoke fill his mouth. And then he proceeds to blow an extremely impressive series of smoke rings at Kuroo, until he can’t keep a straight face anymore and has to let the rest out in between tight, raspy giggles. And Kuroo is vibrating with unresolved sexual tension, even as he grins back and sticks his tongue out between his teeth.
None of this is unusual for the two of them.
Bokuto leans back in his seat and takes a deep breath, one hand wrapped easily around the neck of the bong, the other tapping on his thigh in time with the music. Kuroo gawks openly for a few long seconds, his gaze hyperfocused on the rhythmic brush of Bokuto’s thumb across his tight jeans, and on the way his wrist moves, and on the slightest hint of bulge he can make out in the dark. The way Bokuto shifts his hips forward slightly means he noticed Kuroo staring, then immediately adjusted his posture to make the bulge all the more stare-able. God bless him.
There’s a weird, tinny ‘kerploink’ sound from somewhere in the backseat then, distracting Kuroo from his staring. It’s the sound Bokuto’s phone makes when he gets a text, and it somehow always comes from the backseat of the car. Kuroo’s starting to think Bokuto just leaves the poor thing there, dooming it to a long life of scuttling around the floor of the car.
Then again, he always seems to respond near instantaneously whenever Kuroo texts him. Odd.
“Can you grab that?” Bokuto asks, gesturing vaguely to the backseat.
“Yeah, yeah.” Kuroo wiggles his hips, then arches back between the seats in a way that oh-so-casually leaves his shirt riding up over his stomach. He doesn’t have to check; he knows Bokuto’s staring.
The phone is inexplicably lodged between two backseat cushions, looking like it’s drowning in the upholstery. It takes some shimmying on Kuroo’s part, but he grabs it and flumps back into his seat in time to catch the way Bokuto’s tongue wets his lips, his hooded eyes flicking a second too late back up to Kuroo’s smirking face.
“Hey, thanks,” Bokuto says cheerfully, trading the bong for the phone. “Here, pack that again, yeah?”
Kuroo hums and sets to doing so while Bokuto flicks through his phone, his thumb brushing slowly along his lower lip. Kuroo’s in the process of staring at that, too, when Bokuto bleats loudly at his phone screen, his eyes widening excitedly. “Yo, dude,” he blurts, “Dude, check this out!”
He holds the phone out and shows Kuroo a picture text from his roommate, Akaashi. Akaashi’s kneeling on their bed next to Kuroo’s own roommate, Kenma, and both of them are wearing big, baggy sweaters, not wearing pants, and blowing clouds of smoke at the camera.
Kuroo gasps delicately and places his hand to his heart, closing his eyes dramatically. “This is truly god’s work,” he states. “An ultra-rare no-pants Kenma-Akaashi weed selfie. Blessed is this day.”
“I’m gonna put it on the fridge,” Bokuto says, pretending (maybe) to wipe a single tear from his eye.
Before Kuroo can reply, his own phone buzzes in his pocket. He deposits the bong safely on the floor of the car and pulls it out. Bokuto leans over eagerly, so Kuroo leans closer too and opens a new text from Kenma, both of them hoping for another selfie.
Sadly, Kenma’s love for Kuroo is apparently less geared toward pantsless weed selfies and more geared toward pointed screenshots of an article titled, “Straight Guys Discuss Feeling ‘Temporarily Gay’ When Stoned, Dub Themselves ‘Highsexual.’” The picture is quickly followed by a text that reads, ‘is this you?’ in a way that doesn’t really mean what it says, and instead means, ‘are you drooling hopelessly over Bokuto right now instead of tackling him?’
Kenma is omniscient. This is known.
Bokuto howls with laughter, honest-to-god slapping his knee. Kuroo pokes his lip out at him in a theatrical pout, then at his phone camera, sending Kenma a picture of his very best kicked-puppy face.
“W-well?” Bokuto eventually snickers, waggling his eyebrows at Kuroo. “Are you?”
Kuroo stares at him. “Highsexual? Good lord, no, I’m super-size gay. Don’t you know me at all?”
“I know, boo,” Bokuto laughs, reaching over to boop Kuroo’s nose. “You don’t gotta tell me twice.” And thank god for that. Kuroo snorts and retrieves the bong, then tries to hand it to Bokuto, who just blinks at him.
“Last bowl,” Kuroo says, pointing down to the empty grinder sitting on the center console. “Your weed, your bowl.”
“Aw, what,” Bokuto whines. He reaches down and picks up the grinder, leaning forward to inspect it by distant, rainy streetlight, as if hoping to find another bowl’s worth hiding around the edge or something. “I thought I brought more.” He leans back again with a loud sigh, setting it back down and closing his eyes. “You take it, Kuroo. That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for you.”
“Dude, we can get two hits off this thing. That is more than doable.”
“Nonsense,” Bokuto laughs. “Anything is a one-hitter if you believe in yourself.”
“Good god, man.” Kuroo shakes his head, peering down at the bong in his lap with a long exhale. He loses the staring contest with the bong rather quickly, holding it out to Bokuto again. “No way, dude, this thing’s gonna kill me. I got crinkly little lungs.”
“Your lungs are beautiful,” Bokuto replies cheerfully, crossing his arms. Kuroo nudges Bokuto’s thigh with the wide base, trying to tempt him with it, but Bokuto just keeps smiling encouragingly at him.
As Kuroo’s grumbling and squinting distrustfully at the bong, he has an idea. It’s either a great idea or the worst ever, which is about par for the course as far as Kuroo’s ideas are concerned. He turns to Bokuto and says, “How about you and your Superman lungs hit it, and then you can, uh. Secondhand it to me.”
Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up. “You wanna shotgun it?”
“Sure. Whatever.” Kuroo shrugs lazily. “Sharing is caring, and all that.”
“Aww, bro,” Bokuto laughs. He takes the bong and fiddles with the bowl for a second, then digs the lighter out from where it had somehow fallen deep between his legs. Kuroo scoots closer as Bokuto hits it again, licking his lips in anticipation, hot sparks already snapping low in his gut.
Once again, Bokuto manages the improbable and clears the whole bowl, holding the smoke long enough to set the bong down between his feet so he can give Kuroo his full attention.
He reaches out and curls his fingers beneath Kuroo’s chin, guiding him closer as he leans in, and just before their lips brush, Bokuto nudges his nose lightly against Kuroo’s. His eyes shuttering closed, Kuroo tilts his head and parts his lips, and as Bokuto starts slowly pressing out thick, white smoke like silk, Kuroo breathes it in happily, drinking it right from Bokuto’s lungs.
This isn’t new either. They’ve done it once or twice before, yet another layer of thirst atop the piles and piles that have been accumulating around their friendship for years now.
Even so, Kuroo tries to hide the way he shivers as he holds the hit for a few seconds, enraptured with the idea that his lungs are full of Bokuto’s stolen breath, before turning slightly and exhaling again. Bokuto doesn’t move, doesn’t pull back, his hooded eyes on Kuroo’s and his thumb dragging along the line of Kuroo’s jaw. Still not new.
This time, rather than pull away and laugh it off, Kuroo blinks slowly at Bokuto, the corners of his lips curling up in a crooked smile.
Bokuto’s eyes flutter closed as he tilts his head and presses his lips against Kuroo’s.
This is new.
This has also been a long time coming, though, so Kuroo’s not especially surprised. Rather, he’s extremely happy, giddy joy bubbling up all through his smoky chest. He hums softly and leans into the kiss, melting slightly when Bokuto slides his hand around to thread his fingers into Kuroo’s dark, messy hair.
Bokuto pulls back far too soon for Kuroo’s liking, but he lets him go, his tongue wetting his lips as if hoping for some lingering hint of him. After a moment, he opens his eyes and looks at Bokuto, practically watching the gears turn in his head as they try to decide whether this is okay or not.
“Um, sorry,” Bokuto mumbles finally, his teeth catching the corner of his lip. “Shit, sorry, I should’ve asked, I—”
“It’s cool,” Kuroo says, and he really means it, so when Bokuto pulls his hand out of his hair, all he can do is give him a small, confused frown. “You okay?”
Sighing slowly, Bokuto runs his hands through his hair and looks down at the center console between them, his eyes narrowed in thought. Kuroo knows that look when he sees it; it’s the vacant ‘Bokuto is blaming himself for everything in the universe’ look he gets when he thinks he’s fucked something up, and if Kuroo doesn’t stomp that shit out now, things might get ugly.
“Dude, look at me,” he says, reaching over to rest his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. He rattles him until Bokuto shakes his head and looks up at him, his expression all vulnerability and guilt. Kuroo sighs and turns toward him, grabbing his face in his hands and squishing his cheeks, mostly because any expression is better than the puppy guilt. “Listen, okay? We’re good. Don’t freak out on me.”
“But—”
“Nope,” Kuroo interrupts pointedly, smooshing Bokuto’s cheeks further. “I wanted you to kiss me. Really, really bad. I’ve wanted to kiss you for—” Kuroo cuts himself off and swallows heavily, warmth flooding his cheeks. “A-a bit. A while.”
“A while?”
Huffing loudly, Kuroo averts his gaze and mumbles, “You heard me.”
Bokuto leans forward, his wide eyes burning with curiosity. “Like, how long a while?”
Kuroo pulls a face, but shoves his bashfulness aside in favor of dragging Bokuto out of the dumps. “Like, longer than any one person should want to kiss someone else without doing it, okay? A while.”
“Oh.” Bokuto licks his lips and squints at Kuroo, considering his flustered expression. “S-so... is it okay?”
“Jesus, dude, yes,” Kuroo wheezes, rattling Bokuto slightly. “It’s like the most okay thing ever. It’s okay that you kissed me, and if you wanted to continue kissing me for the foreseeable future, that’s okay too.” He sucks on his lips and glances up at Bokuto, then adds, “But if you didn’t wanna keep kissing me, that’s totally okay with me. Up to you. I’m down either way.”
Eyes widening, Bokuto leans farther forward, practically falling out of his seat. “Yeah! Yeah. That’d be awesome. To, um, keep kissing you. That would be great.” Kuroo’s never been so relieved that Bokuto bounces back relatively quickly from his moods with some firm reassurance.
“Cool. Get over here.”
“Oh, um,” Bokuto blurts, his face flushing dark as he swallows nervously, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I should warn you, I get... uh. Excited. About kissing. B-but you don’t have to worry about that, I’ll keep it to myself, you won’t even notice it’s there, promise.”
Kuroo raises an eyebrow, then glances down at Bokuto’s lap before he can stop himself. He’s shifting nervously in his seat, his long thighs pressed together, and when Kuroo yanks his gaze back up to Bokuto’s, his face is bright tomato red, which is more adorable than it has any right to be.
“What, uh,” he mumbles, idly dragging his thumb along Bokuto’s lips, “What if I said you don’t have to keep it to yourself if you don’t want to?”
Bokuto boggles at him, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips, which does nothing helpful for Kuroo’s rising thirst. “U-uh, I’d say, ‘neat,’” Bokuto says once he’s got his tongue untied. The look on his face is softening into something distinctly hopeful now, and Kuroo’s got no room to talk, with the way his heart’s pounding, but he snickers teasingly anyway and sticks his tongue out between his teeth.
“Neat,” he repeats pointedly, and the way Bokuto grins at him fills him with all kinds of butterflies. “I reiterate, get over here.”
And Bokuto does, leaning into him again with a happy little noise that’s far too cute for its own good, and the second soft brush of their lips is just as electric as the first, which is nothing if not promising.
Brief crisis aside, Kuroo’s been feeling pretty great for a while now; Bokuto’s weed never disappoints. Now, he feels about a hundred times more great, because his head’s in the clouds and Bokuto’s lips are moving sweetly against his, and when he reaches out and rests his hand on Bokuto’s thigh, it’s warm and firm and Kuroo would bet real money that it’s the best seat in any house. Unfortunately, there’s no graceful way for him to move to Bokuto’s lap, not between his absurdly long legs and the relative lack of space for his knees on either side of Bokuto’s hips.
He settles for tilting his head and slipping his tongue out against Bokuto’s lips, moaning quietly when Bokuto tugs him closer and eagerly tangles their tongues. Moving slowly, tentatively, Kuroo slides his palm up and down Bokuto’s thigh, trying not to let how goddamn sturdy it feels distract him too much. He edges his hand higher, then slides his fingers along the inside of his thigh, moving ever closer to his bulge. He’s almost waiting for Bokuto to pull back, or to grab his wrist, but instead Bokuto exhales shakily and kisses him harder, his thighs parting easily, his invitation more than clear.
When Kuroo flattens his palm against Bokuto’s cock, he breathes a heavy, appreciative sigh at the promising feel of it, already more than half hard, curved tightly along his hip in his jeans. Bokuto groans raggedly, his teeth catching Kuroo’s lip and tugging, his hips riding up into Kuroo’s touch.
Not one to be outdone, Bokuto pulls him into another slow, deep kiss, then lets his hand wander away from the nape of Kuroo’s neck. He slides his palm down Kuroo’s chest, rubbing his thumb lightly over the stiff peak of his nipple through his thin shirt, the touch just casual enough to be incredibly teasing. He doesn’t linger there, though, instead dragging his hand down further, fingers splaying curiously on Kuroo’s tight stomach.
His hands are so big. It’s kind of blowing Kuroo’s mind. Not that Kuroo’s hands aren’t just as big, of course. Still, there is a very distinct difference between Kuroo’s big hands and Bokuto’s big hands, and that makes the sweet, languid touch all the more irresistible. Kuroo arches closer, his hand still rubbing and pressing enticingly against Bokuto’s arousal.
Bokuto runs his fingers down further, playing gently along the line of Kuroo’s hip bone down to the waistband of his loose sweatpants, the tips just barely slipping underneath. Kuroo shivers out a moan against him, rocking his hips up.
Rather than go further, though, Bokuto pulls away from their messy, languid kiss, blinking his wide eyes open and licking his brightly flushed lips.
“H-hey, Kuroo...”
Kuroo holds still, opening his eyes so Bokuto knows he’s listening. “Yeah?”
“Do you, um.” Bokuto shifts in his seat, his teeth catching his lip almost shyly for a moment. “D’you wanna hook up?”
“Um, duh,” Kuroo laughs, a wide grin spreading across his face. “We gotta move to the backseat, though.”
Bokuto nods quickly, then leans in for another brief kiss, his grin easily matching Kuroo’s.
How they end up in the backseat without leaving the car is a feat explainable only by the distortion of time and space. There are elbows. An improbable amount of them. Still, they make it, and as Bokuto leans his shoulders back against the door and sprawls out along the seat as best he can, Kuroo happily perches in his lap, leaning over him and shivering as Bokuto’s warm hands slip under his shirt and up his sides.
Kuroo’s insanely sensitive right now, his body attuned to every brush of Bokuto’s skin against his. He’s so aware of how Bokuto feels touching him, looking at him, pressing hard against him, so aware of being the center of Bokuto’s attention that it’s almost overwhelming. The air is still hazy with clouds of smoke, and the windows are already starting to fog up too, humidity beading on the cool glass behind Bokuto.
The air is thick with smoke, the rain is loud and steady against the roof of the car, Bokuto looks like art splayed out under Kuroo, and Kuroo’s stupidly in love with this entire moment.
He sits up enough to wrestle his hoodie off, dropping it carelessly on the floor of the car. Bokuto hums appreciatively, his hands sliding around the small of Kuroo’s back so he can pull him close enough to kiss again, his hips just barely rocking up between Kuroo’s thighs. Kuroo arches his back and sighs, pressing one hand to Bokuto’s cheek before catching Bokuto’s lower lip in his teeth and nibbling lightly.
With a low, raspy groan, Bokuto pulls back and looks up at Kuroo again, the usually intense copper of his irises bare rings now around his pupils, stretched thin by the dark and the high and the way Kuroo licks his lips and rocks in his lap.
“Shit, Bo,” Kuroo breathes, grinning lazily. Bokuto hums his agreement as he leans in and drags a line of hot, wet kisses up the arch of Kuroo’s throat. Shivering slightly, Kuroo leans his head back for more, gripping Bokuto’s strong shoulders encouragingly. As he’s sucking a small hickey into the soft, dark skin of Kuroo’s long neck, Bokuto slides his hands down his back, then right under the waistband of his sweatpants, breathing a muffled groan as he squeezes Kuroo’s ass and pulls them together more firmly.
Following Bokuto’s guiding, Kuroo licks his lips and rocks harder against him, shifting his weight so their cocks are grinding right against each other through their pants. Bokuto’s so hard against him, straining against his pants already, his fingers pressing tight into the curve of Kuroo’s ass.
“God, dude,” Bokuto rumbles against Kuroo’s collarbone, “You have the cutest ass, you know that?”
Kuroo laughs at that, splaying one hand across Bokuto’s broad chest. “You may have mentioned it before.”
Nuzzling under Kuroo’s jaw, Bokuto rocks his hips up into the next languid roll of Kuroo’s hips and mumbles, “Squishy...”
“There’s a sexy compliment,” Kuroo snickers.
“But it is,” Bokuto complains, pulling out of Kuroo’s neck to give him a wide, flustered grin. He’s flushed so pretty, blinking up at Kuroo and licking his lips, so Kuroo grinds his hips down again and wiggles in Bokuto’s lap, his fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “You’re, like, insanely buff, but your ass is so... bouncy. How is that fair?”
“Sorry, man, I don’t make the rules,” Kuroo replies, not bothering to hide how very pleased he is about all this. He slides one arm around Bokuto’s shoulders and ducks to catch his lips, quick to draw him into another deep, messy kiss.
Speaking of unfair... Kuroo runs one hand up Bokuto’s arm, his fingers lingering appreciatively on his biceps. Kuroo’s arms are certainly nothing to sniff at, but the sleeves of Bokuto’s t-shirt cling tightly to his thick biceps in a way that makes Kuroo a little dizzy. He knows damn well what these arms are capable of, especially after years of watching him on the court in both high school and college. Namely, he knows that Bokuto could definitely bench-press him if he wanted to, and that is a quality Kuroo can absolutely get behind.
Bokuto sighs softly, nuzzling his face against Kuroo’s, before he slides one hand out of his pants, moving it around to splay his fingers low on Kuroo’s stomach again. Kuroo shivers, tilting his bangs out of his face somewhat. He grins again and reaches down to squeeze Bokuto’s wrist encouragingly, easily offering his permission to continue, so Bokuto hums and nods, then slides his fingers into Kuroo’s sweatpants.
He pulls Kuroo’s cock out of his pants with an easy flick of his wrist, groaning when he looks down to see what he’s dealing with.
Kuroo laughs warmly at the bright flush that flares up across Bokuto’s face, entirely too smitten with the way Bokuto gives him a quick, playful grin as he lightly drags his knuckles up the underside of Kuroo’s heavy arousal. He wraps his fingers around him gently, and when he gives him a long, slow stroke, he watches the way Kuroo’s soft foreskin slips over the head, already slick and flushed a pretty pink in the low light.
Still rocking his hips slowly, Kuroo presses into Bokuto’s grip with a shudder, his head falling back and his eyes fluttering closed. He can feel Bokuto riding up against him, his other hand still gripping and squeezing Kuroo’s ass, and as Bokuto sets up a lazy rhythm with his hand, he leans into Kuroo’s neck again and happily sets to giving him another dark, obvious hickey.
“Fuck,” Kuroo gasps, doing his best to keep to Bokuto’s steady pace as he reaches up and threads his fingers into Bokuto’s thick hair. Kuroo hums softly and licks his lips, then tugs lightly on the wiry strands wound around his knuckles. Bokuto sighs and tilts his head back obediently, gazing up at Kuroo through dark, hooded eyes, entirely too attractive for his own good. Kuroo closes his eyes and brushes his lips against Bokuto’s again, thrusting into his grip and letting his hands wander restlessly through his hair. He breathes a little moan when Bokuto licks into his mouth and slides his rough thumb over the head of Kuroo’s cock, spreading around slick precome and playing with his sensitive foreskin between long strokes.
“God, Bo,” Kuroo gasps between languid kisses, wriggling in Bokuto’s lap. “Fuck, that’s good...”
“Like that?” Bokuto rumbles, dragging his lips across Kuroo’s flushed cheek until he can catch his earlobe between his teeth, nibbling gently at the soft flesh. Kuroo’s hips stutter at that, a hitched exhale shaking out between his lips at the feeling. He pulls away slightly, brushing his lips against the corner of Bokuto’s eye, then shifts back a little in Bokuto’s lap so he can reach between them and rub his hand against the straining arch of his cock through his jeans.
“Can I?” Kuroo murmurs, eagerly watching the way Bokuto’s eyes flutter closed, his hand faltering in its rhythm.
“Y-yeah, yeah.” Bokuto blinks down between them and watches Kuroo’s hands deftly work open the catch of his jeans, unzipping them and pushing the fabric away quickly, pausing just to drag his fingers along the thick outline of his cock through his underwear. Kuroo licks his lips slowly, then tugs his boxers down too so he can pull out Bokuto’s heavy arousal, and as he does, Bokuto sucks on his lips and stares up at him, trying not to laugh.
It takes Kuroo a second to register what he’s looking at. His eyes widen, and he even pushes his bangs out of his face so he can see better, before he wheezes, “Jesus Christ, man.”
Bokuto’s poker face cracks, and he cackles at the face Kuroo’s making, unable to help himself. “Dude,” he snickers, “I crack jokes about my ginormous dick all the time, didn’t you believe me?”
“No!” Kuroo bleats, already laughing too. “The guys who make big-dick jokes are usually the ones packing cocktail wieners, dude, this is absurd. ‘You won’t even notice it’s there’ my ass.”
“Well, I wasn’t kidding.” And he sure as shit wasn’t. Kuroo shakes his head and leans back to stare down at Bokuto’s cock, wrapping his hand around its thick girth experimentally. He gives him a long, loose stroke, more than a little impressed with the sheer weight of it in his hand. It’s flushed dark, curved up toward his stomach, so goddamn heavy that it can’t quite stand up on its own. That doesn’t stop it from being incredibly hard, though, all silk and steel in Kuroo’s hand.
Kuroo’s almost entirely sure that Bokuto’s dick generates its own gravitational field. It’s ridiculous.
And yet, he wants every fat inch of it inside him right now or possibly sooner. If anything can be said about Kuroo, it’s that he’s determined to a fault.
“Dude, Bo,” he says, grinning back up at Bokuto. “We should totally fuck. Specifically, you should fuck me.”
Bokuto wheezes out a laugh, biting his lip and nodding his agreement. “Y-yeah, sure, definitely.”
“You got stuff in here?”
“Yeah, in my bag. Front pocket.” Bokuto jerks his chin toward a book bag lying on the floor of the backseat, half crammed under the passenger seat and half covered by Kuroo’s hoodie. Kuroo twists and squirms to reach it, rifling around in the pockets until his searching fingers find a little pile of foil squares.
Sitting back up with a handful of condoms and lube packets, Kuroo arches an eyebrow at Bokuto and asks, “Okay, first of all, did you steal these from the student health center?”
Bokuto snorts loudly and shakes his head. “I bought them, thank you very much.”
“What an upstanding citizen you are. Also, do you really just carry lube and condoms to class with you?”
Flushing slightly, Bokuto grins and shrugs. “You never know, right?”
Kuroo considers that for a moment, then shrugs too. “Yeah, true.”
Bokuto laughs again and gives Kuroo’s ass another tight squeeze before he moves his hands to Kuroo’s hips and hauls him up his chest, making good use of his strength to guide Kuroo up until he’s kneeling close enough that Bokuto can wrap his lips around the head of his cock, moaning softly at the taste of his slick precome. Kuroo’s head falls forward, his thighs shaking slightly as he tries to stay balanced there, dropping one hand to comb through Bokuto’s thick hair encouragingly.
As he’s bobbing his head shallowly over Kuroo’s cock, Bokuto closes his eyes and hums again, stroking what he can’t quite reach in this position. He laves the flat of his tongue broadly over the head, then slips his tongue under his foreskin, sucking and licking and generally making no effort to keep things neat or quiet. Kuroo moans raggedly and curls forward over his head, his hands tangled deep in his hair. “Fuck,” he gasps, leaning his forehead against the foggy window. “Shit, ‘s good, B-Bo...”
Humming his agreement, Bokuto flicks the tip of his tongue through the slit and sucks harder, pulling more breathy sounds from the brunette as he does. He tugs Kuroo’s loose pants down over his hips, leaving them just under the curve of his ass so he can squeeze it and paw at it some more, his hands warm and strong where they linger on Kuroo’s skin.
As Kuroo’s rocking shallowly into Bokuto’s mouth, careful not to overwhelm him, he feels Bokuto snag one of the foil packets from him, but he doesn’t pay it much mind until Bokuto grabs his ass again, this time gently spreading him open so he can press his lube-slick fingers against Kuroo’s entrance.
“Ah, fuck,” Kuroo gasps, arching back into the feeling. Bokuto hums and guides him forward again, working his tongue against the underside of his cock as he sucks him deeper, his fingers pressing and rubbing and coaxing Kuroo to melting.
When Bokuto presses the tip of one finger inside of Kuroo, he shudders out a muffled groan at the way he squeezes tight around him, his other hand petting his ass lightly as if to soothe him. He makes to pull back again, to rub against his entrance some more first, but Kuroo bucks back against him with a choked whine, taking his finger deeper and tugging on his hair to urge him on.
Following Kuroo’s lead, Bokuto moans around him and slides his finger in to the knuckle, his brow furrowed in concentration. Kuroo’s tight, squeezing around him and moaning his name breathlessly, and Bokuto’s hips rock up into nothing at how perfect Kuroo sounds like this. His cock’s heavy against his stomach, dripping hot precome onto his shirt, but he pays it no mind just yet, focusing instead on getting Kuroo to thrust deeper into his mouth.
It doesn’t take long for Kuroo to start getting impatient, between rocking his hips back onto his long, thick finger and letting Bokuto pull him forward again into his mouth. He fists his hands harder in Bokuto’s hair and gasps, curling forward further against the window, the humidity there leaving his bangs stuck to his temple in wet, curled strands. “F-fuck, Bo,” he murmurs, “Fuck, c’mon, more...”
With a soft chuckle, Bokuto lets Kuroo pull out of his mouth altogether, licking his wet lips and grinning up at him. Kuroo’s flushed and disheveled already, his hair bigger mess than usual, and the grin he flashes Bokuto is run through with this hot intensity, flustered and excited and needy. Bokuto groans and rocks his hips up again, then presses another finger against him, watching Kuroo’s eyes roll closed as he works them both deep inside.
Bokuto moves his fingers in a slow, even rhythm as he stares up at Kuroo, eagerly taking in the gasping, panting faces he’s making, the way his eyes flutter, how easily he falls apart like this. Kuroo rocks his hips in time, his thighs shaking harder now, doing his best to relax around Bokuto’s thick fingers. He stays curled over him to avoid hitting his head on the roof of the car, trembling fingers winding through Bokuto’s hair over and over, half because he knows how much Bokuto likes being petted and half because it helps keep him sane.
When Bokuto buries his fingers deep and spreads them gently, then curls them hard toward Kuroo’s stomach, Kuroo’s eyes literally cross, his hips bucking and his fists tightening in Bokuto’s hair, his flushed lips parting around a raspy, wavering moan. Bokuto grins, sliding his free hand up Kuroo’s shirt and along his bowed spine as he resumes his even pace.
“H-hurry up,” Kuroo manages after a few seconds, riding back insistently onto Bokuto’s fingers. They’re so thick inside him, so promising already, but Kuroo doesn’t wanna lose his mind before Bokuto even has a chance to get inside him. He scoots back along Bokuto’s chest until he can bury his face in thick silver hair, panting heavily.
“Hold on, hold on,” Bokuto murmurs. He reaches up and slides his fingers into Kuroo’s hair, tugging and shifting and leaning up so he can pull him into a quick, messy kiss, easily swallowing the low moan Kuroo breathes into him. “You’re so tight,” he whispers against his lips. “Don’t wanna break your ass.”
“I’m pretty s-sturdy, dude,” Kuroo laughs, sounding wonderfully breathless. “C’mon, I wanna ride you already.”
Groaning raggedly, Bokuto bites his lip and nods, then focuses on working a third finger into Kuroo. He slides free hand back down to Kuroo’s cock, stroking him idly to help him relax. He lets Kuroo wiggle down further so they can kiss again, arching up slightly so Kuroo doesn’t have to bend so much to reach him.
By the time Kuroo’s taking his fingers easily, moaning against his lips and dripping precome on his shirt, Bokuto’s aching to be inside him, so when Kuroo sits up and gasps, “O-okay, okay, I’m good, c’mon,” it comes as no small relief. Kuroo wiggles away from his hands and shifts back further in his lap, giving his cock a few quick, tight strokes as if to make up for going untouched for so long, at which Bokuto moans appreciatively.
Kuroo fumbles a condom out of his pocket and tears the corner with his sharp teeth, grinning sharply at Bokuto as he does. He tosses the wrapper aside, then scoots back further, one hand wrapped around the thick base of Bokuto’s cock to stand it upright. Rather than roll the condom on with his other hand, though, he grins, then pops the condom in his mouth. Bokuto raises his eyebrows, and just as he’s about to ask if it tastes weird, Kuroo leans forward and fits his mouth over the thick head of Bokuto’s cock with a low moan.
Moving teasingly, tortuously slow, Kuroo rolls the condom on using his lips, bobbing his head and sucking wetly as he goes. Bokuto’s so thick, so heavy on his tongue, hot even through the condom, but he takes him as deep as he can manage with a low hum, which earns him a stuttering gasp of his name. Watching through hooded eyes, Bokuto bites his lip and arches his hips up slightly, moaning softly at how enthusiastic Kuroo is, at how good it feels when he hollows his cheeks around him and sucks harder.
Once he can’t take him any deeper, Kuroo rolls the condom down the rest of the way with his hand, stroking him in time with the steady rhythm of his lips. He swallows around him, his brow furrowing slightly, before he pulls off with a wet, noisy kiss to the head and a wide grin, his lips flushed and slick and too damn tempting for Bokuto to resist.
Wiping his mouth hastily on his arm, Kuroo lets Bokuto tug him back up so he can catch his lips again, moaning appreciatively as he fucks his tongue into Kuroo’s mouth, his hands finding the brunette’s ass again and squeezing.
“Fuck, Kuroo,” he breathes between kisses, nudging their noses together. “T-take your clothes off, I wanna see all of you.”
Kuroo snickers at that. “This should be good,” he mumbles, before he sits up as much as he can without his head bumping the low roof of the car. “Dude, get a car made for people our size.”
Bokuto shrugs, biting his lip around a grin as he watches Kuroo somehow struggle out of his shirt with the minimal space he has. “I don’t think they make cars for six-foot-four giants trying to bone in the backseat.”
“Well, they should.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” Bokuto laughs. He sits up slightly, just enough to grab the back of his own shirt and haul it over his head. Kuroo dodges his elbow with a snort, then ducks down and drags his tongue along Bokuto’s pulse, nipping gently at flushed skin. He can’t stay hunched over like that for long, so he goes back to getting out of his clothes, more than ready to get things moving again.
Bokuto scoots back some and leans his shoulders higher up the car door, easing the strain on his back from having been slouched down so far. While Kuroo’s bending over backwards to wrestle his shoes off, Bokuto braces one foot against the other door, letting the other foot rest on the floor of the car.
“Jesus,” Kuroo groans, his shoes successfully conquered, before leaning over Bokuto on his hands for a second. “Uh, are you gonna try to take your pants off too?”
Raising his eyebrows, Bokuto glances between them, then grins apologetically. “I don’t think I’m that good at Tetris.”
“Yeah, me either,” Kuroo laughs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s cool, I know what your legs look like.”
“Here, let me—” Bokuto lifts his hips, nudging Kuroo up on his knees some, then reaches down and pushes his pants down enough that the zipper on his jeans won’t cause Kuroo any undue misery. “Yeah, that works.”
Once Bokuto’s settled, he reaches around to grab Kuroo’s ass again, unable to help the wide, lecherous grin he throws him as he does. Kuroo snorts, then leans far forward and rests his weight against Bokuto’s chest, reaching down and fisting his hands in his sweatpants so he can shove them down his thighs. Bokuto holds him steady and watches interestedly, laughing when Kuroo curses and wobbles dangerously, somehow disentangling his pants from around his sharp knees.
It takes some finagling and a lot of shimmying, but Kuroo finally manages to get his pants off, immediately throwing them into the front seat with a disgusted sound. “Dude, I’m getting those pants Chippendale dancers wear.”
Bokuto blinks widely at him. “What, assless chaps?”
“Nah, those I already have. I’m talking about the ones with like Velcro down the sides so you can just rip them off and be done with it.”
“Wait, what?”
“You know,” Kuroo snickers, pantomiming ripping pants off in what limited space he has.
“Dude,” Bokuto blurts, “You can’t just tell me you own assless chaps and not elaborate. I need details. And pictures.”
Kuroo laughs loudly, comfortably settling himself in Bokuto’s lap again now that he’s naked. He shivers when Bokuto reaches out and wraps a hand around his cock, helpfully stroking him back to full hardness. “Shit, I’ll show ‘em to you later,” Kuroo sighs, leaning over Bokuto again. “How ‘bout that?”
“Deal,” Bokuto chirps, already looking forward to it. For now, though, he focuses on how pretty Kuroo looks in his lap like this, rocking into his hand and licking his lips, his smooth, dark skin so warm and tempting in the rainy gloom. Kuroo leans down and gives him a quick, bitey kiss, then grabs another packet of lube from beside him, tearing it open and drizzling it out onto the condom Bokuto had almost forgotten about. Kuroo strokes him loosely, coating him in the cool liquid and bringing him back to full hardness too.
“You think that’s enough?” Bokuto asks after a minute, glancing down in search of more lube packets.
“Probably, yeah,” Kuroo replies, shifting his slick hand behind himself to rub his fingers against his entrance, just to make sure. He arches his back and slides two fingers inside himself, moaning softly at the feeling before sighing, “Okay, I’m good. You good?”
“Yessir.” Licking his lips excitedly, Bokuto rests his hands on Kuroo’s hips, his thumbs pressing against the curve of his hip bones. Kuroo grins and nods, his cheeks starting to flush dark again, before shifting up slightly on his knees. Bokuto reaches down and grips the base of his cock, helpfully holding it steady, and when the head presses against Kuroo’s slick entrance, both of them groan in anticipation.
For his own sake, Kuroo takes things slow, letting Bokuto steady himself while he sinks down onto him, breathing a shivery moan at the feeling. He bites his lip and presses down harder, and when the head finally slips inside, he and Bokuto both moan at how tight the fit is.
“Sh-shit, Bo, you’re so big...”
Bokuto moans roughly and bites his lips, one hand soothing up and down Kuroo’s side. “Sounds so cute when you say it like that,” he mumbles, at which Kuroo flashes him a quick, flustered grin, sticking his tongue out between his teeth.
Kuroo takes a deep breath and rocks his hips down more, his eyes shuttering closed as he carefully takes more and more of Bokuto in. He’s already stretched so wide around him, squeezing tight and moaning at how incredibly hard Bokuto is, at the way Bokuto’s face flushes dark. He circles his hips slowly, riding his way down onto him and panting shakily, bracing his hands on the seat on either side of Bokuto.
Nuzzling his nose against Kuroo’s temple, Bokuto hums and lets go of his cock so he can pet Kuroo’s sides, murmuring something encouraging as he does. Kuroo purrs softly, then tilts his head and nudges him into a heated kiss, moaning against his lips and trembling against him.
He’s most of the way down when he has to pause for breath, his shoulders and his thighs shaking at how intense it feels to have Bokuto inside of him. Bokuto’s so patient with him, too, his hands soothing and caressing and petting, his lips warm and sweet on his cheek, dragging along the line of his jaw, parted against his arched throat. Kuroo moans and lets his eyes shutter closed, leaning more heavily on Bokuto for the moment.
“H-hold on a sec,” Bokuto mumbles, running his knuckles across Kuroo’s flushed cheek. “Don’t worry about moving until you’re used to it.”
Kuroo arches an eyebrow at him, reaching between them to wrap his fingers around the last few inches. “Not done yet.”
When Bokuto’s eyes widen, his eyebrows shooting up, Kuroo feels a warm thrill of satisfaction. “You’re gonna—the whole thing? Dude, you don’t have to, uh—”
“It ain’t for you,” Kuroo snickers, grinning crookedly and nudging his nose against Bokuto’s. “I want it all.”
Bokuto knows better than to try to talk Kuroo down when he’s got that determined glint in his eye, so he just swallows heavily and nods, his teeth digging into his lip as he drags his dark, hooded gaze up Kuroo’s gorgeous, flushed body. Kuroo hums gratefully, leaning in for another brief kiss before he starts rocking his hips again, and this time he doesn’t stop until his ass is pressed tight against Bokuto’s hips, squeezing tight around him and moaning breathlessly.
Undeniably impressed, Bokuto works on keeping himself together for Kuroo’s sake, even though the feeling of Kuroo wrapped tight around every inch of him is lighting a blazing fire in his blood. “I-is the lube enough?” he wheezes after a moment, his hands running up and down his back.
“Y-yeah, I think so,” Kuroo hums, resting his forehead against Bokuto’s. He takes a deep, steadying breath, then circles his hips slowly, and his lips part on a stuttering, hitched whine at how good Bokuto feels so deep inside him. Bokuto groans and squeezes his eyes shut, his hands tightening on Kuroo’s waist before he leans up and kisses him again, tangling their tongues and earning another airy sound from the brunette.
While they’re kissing, Kuroo keeps rocking his hips, moving in deep, short thrusts and gasping at the feeling. Bokuto’s gripping his sides tight to keep himself in check, concentrating entirely on Kuroo for now, waiting until he’s taking him more easily to do anything more than encourage him.
Shifting one foot onto the floor, Kuroo sits up a little straighter and tilts his head back with a low moan, his mussed hair brushing the roof of the car. Bokuto grins and drags his palms up Kuroo’s chest, fingers sliding across his sweat-slick skin, his touches bordering on worshiping. “Fuck, Kuroo,” he breathes, “You’re so pretty. Look so good right now...”
Kuroo sighs and shivers, arching easily into Bokuto’s hands. The feeling of being petted is soothing, warmth blooming across his skin everywhere they touch, coaxing him into relaxing further. He starts moving his hips in longer, faster thrusts, riding Bokuto in fluid, confident circles of his hips, panting quietly as he does.
Bokuto feels good like this, steadily sliding into him and filling him up, but Kuroo can tell Bokuto’s still holding back. Even with the way he squeezes around him as he pulls up, Bokuto stays still beneath him, biting his lip as he watches Kuroo lazily fuck himself on him. His strong hands have come to rest on Kuroo’s ass again, and if he wanted to, he could pull Kuroo into any rhythm he wanted.
His concern is cute, but Kuroo kind of really wants to see how Bokuto looks when he’s losing his mind.
Moaning quietly and sinking back hard on Bokuto’s cock, Kuroo licks his lips and blinks down at him, then murmurs, “You can move, you know.”
“Sure you can take it?” is Bokuto’s breathless reply, teasing him even now. Not that Kuroo would have it any other way.
“Oh, please,” he laughs, “I can take anything you’ve got for me.”
“Oho,” Bokuto snickers, easily rising to Kuroo’s challenge. He licks his lips and braces his feet, his hands shifting to get a better grip on Kuroo’s ass, before he starts pulling him a little higher, pulling out farther before letting Kuroo’s weight seat him again, rolling his hips up to meet him.
Kuroo hums and tilts his head back, letting himself bask in the sweet sparks of pleasure riding up his spine in time to Bokuto’s steady, grinding thrusts. He lets Bokuto take over for the moment, which seems to encourage him, seeing as he grins widely and sits up a little more, then leans up to drag his tongue up Kuroo’s long neck. As Bokuto sinks his teeth into his neck again, aiming to give him another hickey, Kuroo closes his eyes and arches against him, murmuring his approval in panted breaths.
“Shit, Kuroo,” Bokuto groans against his throat. He leans up further and nuzzles under Kuroo’s jaw, riding his hips up harder into him. “You’re so fucking sexy, god... should’ve done this ages ago, I’m gonna kick my own ass for holding back so much.”
Kuroo laughs at that, biting his lip as Bokuto pulls him down into his lap more firmly. “W-wasn’t just you, don’t take all the credit.”
“Fine, I’ll kick your ass too.”
“Wow, you’re such a romantic,” Kuroo snorts, leaning back so he can grin crookedly at Bokuto. “Who knew.”
Bokuto sticks his lip out at that, pinching Kuroo’s ass on principle. Kuroo sticks his tongue out playfully, then leans in and catches his lips again, kissing him wet and messy as he starts moving his hips on his own again. He starts rocking back harder, arching his back and grinding into Bokuto’s lap with every thrust.
Their heavy, panted breaths fog the humid air between them as they move together, colored with soft, raspy moans and hitched sighs, and even now, Kuroo’s kind of surprised by how quiet Bokuto is. In every other aspect of his existence, Bokuto manages to be the loudest person in any room, but now that he’s high as hell and buried deep inside Kuroo, he’s near silent. Uncanny.
Kuroo leans back so he can look at him, watching the flushed, aroused expression on Bokuto’s face until he blinks his wide eyes open and stares right back. Biting his lip around a crooked smile, Kuroo seats himself on Bokuto’s lap and squeezes around him, circling his hips slightly just to try and drive him crazy. Bokuto’s breath hitches, and his hands grip him tighter as he grinds up into him in return, breathing out a low, rumbling moan of Kuroo’s name.
Unable to help himself, Kuroo tilts his head and asks, “Feel good?”
“Hell yeah,” Bokuto immediately responds, his voice gone smoky from breathing so heavily. “It’s amazing, man, you’re the best.”
Snickering loudly, Kuroo’s grin widens again as he teases, “Wow, you’re so uncool.”
Bokuto gives him a perturbed look, clearly disgruntled. “What about you? You’re so quiet, it’s freaking me out.”
Kuroo shakes his head and leans in to flick his tongue across Bokuto’s pouting lips, picking up the pace with his hips again. “’S really good. I’m just quiet during sex.”
“Oh.” Bokuto squints at Kuroo, his lips screwed to one side, at which Kuroo raises an equally suspicious eyebrow. Bokuto’s staring at him like a particularly complex equation, giving him the same face he always makes when he’s turning something into a challenge. It can’t bode well. After a moment, Bokuto nods firmly, and some of the stoned haze clears from his gaze only to be replaced by a manic, determined glint. “Okay, got it. I’m gonna make you feel so good you have no choice but to make a whole bunch of noise.”
Rolling his eyes loudly, Kuroo shakes his head and laughs, but Bokuto sits up more and shifts Kuroo in his lap, moving him as easily as breathing. Heat thrills through Kuroo at that, slipping out between his lips in a shaky sigh, before he wiggles his hips enticingly.
When Bokuto starts moving seriously, his gaze focuses sharply on Kuroo, his intent a nearly tangible weight in the air between them. He picks up a harder, faster pace, holding Kuroo still as he fucks up into him, and Kuroo only catches on to what he’s doing a second before he manages it.
He can’t help but throw his head back with a shivering moan when Bokuto finds the right angle, or at least a significantly more distracting one. Now that he has room to pull out further, the thick head of his cock slides past Kuroo’s sweet spot with every quick thrust, and that feeling combined with how deep he’s reaching has Kuroo shaking and gasping, his eyes squeezed shut tight as fireworks burst behind his eyelids.
Bokuto curses quietly, his hands moving to grip Kuroo’s hips, then his waist, his fingers splaying and stroking across sweat-slick skin. Without his grip to keep him still, Kuroo’s free to move his hips easily, so he does his best to match Bokuto’s pace, riding down into his thrusts and moaning raggedly.
Seemingly encouraged by Kuroo’s reactions, Bokuto licks his lips and drags his hands up Kuroo’s chest, his fingers gently teasing and pinching his hard nipples. Kuroo’s breath catches at the feeling, his brow furrowing as his head drops forward and his hips snap back against Bokuto’s, a loud, breathless moan slipping past his flushed lips.
With a curious hum, Bokuto tilts his head and continues toying with Kuroo’s chest, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over the stiff peaks. Kuroo tightens around him and gasps again, leaning his head back, his arms shaking on either side of Bokuto.
“You’re so sensitive,” Bokuto murmurs, so quietly that Kuroo nearly doesn’t catch it. Before he can respond, Bokuto’s pushing his shoulders back slightly, guiding him into arching his back tighter. The shift has Kuroo gasping, because Bokuto’s cock is hitting him even better now, driving up into him so nicely that his mind goes blank for a second.
As if that wasn’t enough, Bokuto leans forward and drags the flat of his tongue over one of Kuroo’s nipples, then sucks it between his lips with a quiet groan. Kuroo’s hips buck roughly at that, his lips shaping another gasping moan into Bokuto’s name, his thighs and his shoulders already shaking at the feeling.
Humming warmly, Bokuto flicks the tip of his tongue quickly over Kuroo’s nipple, leaving the brunette shivering as he grinds harder into his lap. He nibbles it gently, then soothes his tongue over it again before he drags hot, wet kisses across Kuroo’s chest. As he’s teasing Kuroo’s other nipple with his teeth, he pinches the other between his fingers, his saliva making his touch slide in a way that’s nearly maddening.
Kuroo’s panting and trembling badly already, his face flushed hot with arousal, his cock dripping wet against Bokuto’s stomach. He reaches up and digs his hand into Bokuto’s hair, his fingers fisting there for something to hold onto. Bokuto moans against his chest, giving him a quick, wet kiss before pulling back so he can stare up at Kuroo again.
Whatever face he’s making, it clearly does something to Bokuto, because he shivers out a low moan and bucks his hips up hard, his hands gripping Kuroo’s waist tightly. He leans up and nudges Kuroo to get his attention, and when Kuroo sighs and leans into another deep, sloppy kiss, Bokuto moans gratefully, his hips never faltering in their steady rhythm.
Bokuto kisses Kuroo until he’s melting against him, until he’s gasping against his lips and squirming in his lap, and when Kuroo pulls back to groan his name, Bokuto licks his lips and nudges their noses together, then breathes, “H-hey, Kuroo.” Kuroo blinks his hazy eyes open, looking down at him with a questioning sound. Bokuto hums, and his hands tighten on Kuroo’s waist as he murmurs, “I, uh. I like you a lot.”
That gets Kuroo’s attention. He sits up slightly and tilts his head, giving Bokuto a crooked, teasing smile. “O-oh yeah?”
Somehow flushing darker, Bokuto bites his lip and nods, his hips slowing down enough that they can both think clearly. “Yeah... whenever we hang out, I pop mad boners ‘cause you’re too good-looking from like every angle.”
Kuroo rolls his eyes, running a hand through his tangled hair to hide the tiny barb of disappointment burrowing between his ribs. “Oh, that kind of like.”
Bokuto seems genuinely confused by that, then alarmed. He stops moving altogether, focusing entirely on getting his words together. “No, no, I mean—i-it’s not like that. I mean, it definitely is, because you’re absurdly hot, but I’m—it’s not just that.” Huffing agitatedly, Bokuto frowns at a bead of sweat trailing down Kuroo’s chest. “Like, whenever it happens, I think, ‘shit, I need to go home and jack off like immediately,’ right? But then you stop doing whatever sexy thing you were doing and we start talking again, and I forget about the boner entirely. Because you’re so—so—”
Blinking widely, Kuroo tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, at which Bokuto lets his head thump back against the window with a groan.
“It’s just—you’re you, and you’re stupid hot, but you’re also stupid funny and you put up with me and you’re fun to play with, and I don’t know, dude.” Bokuto crumples slightly, obviously discouraged by Kuroo’s silence. “I just like you.”
What Bokuto’s saying finally clicks. Warm satisfaction floods all through Kuroo’s chest, so he hums, then rests one hand against Bokuto’s flushed cheek and says, “Mm... guess what.” Bokuto glances up at him through his pale eyelashes, his lips already curling in a slight pout, as if ready to be disappointed. Kuroo ducks to kiss that look off his face, pressing their bodies together as much as he can manage before he sighs, “I like you too.” He can feel Bokuto perking up under him, practically vibrating with excitement, and Kuroo can’t help but laugh at him for that. “Even though you’re painfully uncool.”
Bokuto gives a scandalized huff, pulling back so Kuroo can see his appalled expression. “Bro, how could you?” Kuroo snickers teasingly, more than a little amused. The scandal clears from Bokuto’s expression quickly, replaced by stubborn determination as he blurts, “I’ll show you uncool!”
Wrapping his arms around Kuroo’s waist, Bokuto swings his legs to the side and shoves them both forward, his body easily pinning Kuroo’s to the backseat without even having to pull out. Kuroo arches up against him, wheezing out an impressed laugh, then slings his arms over Bokuto’s broad shoulders, already pulling him down for more kisses.
Taking a moment to get them both positioned comfortably, Bokuto leans into Kuroo’s kisses and presses deep inside of him again, grinding his cock up into his tight heat with a low, shaky groan. He plants one foot against the floor of the car again, giving himself the leverage he needs to start thrusting deeply, his hips moving in long, controlled strokes that have Kuroo arching and shivering under him.
Bokuto slides his hands along Kuroo’s thighs and coaxes him into wrapping them tight around his waist, moaning as the brunette pulls him closer and arches his hips up against him, taking every inch of him with a breathless hum. “Sh-shit, Kuroo,” Bokuto gasps, his eyes fluttering closed as Kuroo nibbles at his flushed lips. “Hold on, hold on...”
Much to Kuroo’s noisy dismay, Bokuto sits up and pulls out, leaving him almost uncomfortably empty. He leans over and fishes around the floor of the car until he finds another packet of lube, then sits up again, still held firmly between Kuroo’s strong thighs.
Once he’s emptied it into his hand, he drops the wrapper, then wraps his slick fingers around his cock, coating himself with lube again and groaning softly at the feeling. He leans over Kuroo on his other hand, clearly ogling him as he strokes himself. Kuroo grins at that, flushed and disheveled and entirely aware of how good he looks like this, before he wiggles his hips playfully and slowly licks his lips, his hands coming to rest on Bokuto’s biceps.
“God, dude, you’re so—ah—” Bokuto moans, entirely affected by Kuroo’s teasing. He grips the base of his cock again and holds it steady, and as he sinks back into Kuroo, both of them shiver and cling to each other, moaning raggedly.
“F-fuck, Bo,” Kuroo gasps, his teeth digging into his lip as he rocks up against him, already impatient. “C’mon, move already.”
Bokuto groans softly, but he leans up and grins down at Kuroo, mischief clearly evident in his hooded gaze as he says, “Now who’s uncool?”
“Still you,” Kuroo shoots back, reaching up to flick his forehead.
“O-oy—”
“But,” Kuroo continues, “I guess I am too, so stop worrying about it and fuck me.”
Bokuto blinks widely, which looks ridiculous with the way Kuroo’s squishing his cheeks between his hands. Kuroo manages to bite down his laughter, giving him a wobbly smile instead, and Bokuto seems satisfied with that. He grins back and nods, then leans down and kisses him deeply, and as he’s languidly fucking his tongue between Kuroo’s lips, he grips his hips tighter and finally starts moving.
He starts off easy, grinding his cock into Kuroo deep and steady, but between how nicely he’s taking him and how sweet he sounds gasping against his lips, he finds himself helplessly picking up the pace pretty quick.
Kuroo leans his head back with a loud whine and arches his hips up against Bokuto, his every thought occupied by how good Bokuto’s cock feels thrusting into him, how full of him he is, how intense Bokuto’s gaze is as he watches Kuroo moan for him. He wraps his thighs around him tighter, pulling him deep with every thrust, his hands fisted in Bokuto’s hair and tugging helplessly.
“Fuck, Kuroo,” Bokuto moans, biting his lip and bucking his hips against him, “You’re so tight, feels so good...”
Gasping his agreement, Kuroo swallows heavily and tugs Bokuto down so he can kiss him again, craving his affection. Bokuto hums and obliges him easily, eagerly pressing their bodies together and grinding deep for a moment, then catches one of Kuroo’s hands and guides him into bracing it against the car door above his head. Kuroo blinks up at him blearily and snorts, but he moves his other hand to the door too and makes a show of rocking his hips along Bokuto’s cock, earning himself a shaky, urgent groan.
Bokuto leans over Kuroo on his hands and starts pounding his cock into him, pulling back far and thrusting in deep, eating up the way Kuroo’s back snaps up off the seat, his flushed lips parting around a loud, appreciative moan of Bokuto’s name. With his hands braced against the door, Kuroo has the leverage to move back into his thrusts, so he does his best to keep pace with him, panting out sweet, breathy noises as he does. Bokuto groans encouragingly, his eyes fluttering briefly closed.
“B-Bo, fuck, oh my god,” Kuroo whimpers, biting his lip hard and shaking around him. He tilts his head back and gasps, arching up for more, making such a pretty picture that Bokuto’s head spins a little. Determined to hear Kuroo cry out for him, Bokuto sits up and grips the tops of Kuroo’s thighs, holding him in place and shifting his angle slightly.
The view is enough on its own to have Bokuto’s hips stuttering, with the way Kuroo looks stretched out under him, spread wide around his cock, his bright flush spreading all the way down to his chest. More than that, though, is the way Kuroo’s body arches and tenses right before he lets out an absolutely filthy moan, his thighs shaking violently under Bokuto’s grip. “Right there, fuck,” he pleads, his head thrown back against the seat.
“Y-yeah?” Bokuto rumbles, drinking in everything about the way Kuroo looks right now. “Feels good right here?” He slams his hips up into him pointedly, earning a sharp, keening moan, the sound sending blazing heat all through him. Kuroo nods frantically, squinting up at him and gasping his name. He loses the rhythm of his hips in his squirming, so Bokuto takes over for him, holding him at that angle and doing his best to wring more of those loud, brainless noises out of him.
His nails scraping along the door, Kuroo arches and wraps his thighs tighter around Bokuto’s hips, urging him deeper with another loud, desperate moan of his name. “Harder, harder,” he gasps, his body tightening, tensing around Bokuto’s cock in a way that has both of them seeing stars. “C’mon, f-fuck, I’m gonna come—”
“Y-yeah, yeah,” Bokuto moans, leaning over Kuroo again and throwing his weight into his thrusts, giving Kuroo everything he’s got. “Go on, w-wanna see you come, k-keep makin’ those pretty noises for me, okay?”
Kuroo twitches under him and arches off the seat, grinding down onto Bokuto’s cock with a cracked, breathless, perfect cry of his name. He’s so close, his body ablaze with crackling, desperate need. He just needs a little more, just a little more to get there, and he’s right on the edge of oblivion when Bokuto curls over him and shakily whimpers, “F-fuck, Tetsurou!”
The sweet, raw vulnerability to Bokuto’s voice as he called Kuroo’s given name is what sends him flying, more than anything else. Every part of him draws livewire tense as he bucks his hips and comes around him, his head thrown back on a long, wavering cry. One hand flies down from the door to wrap around his cock as he spills up his stomach, writhing and gasping and sloppily stroking himself through it.
Bokuto’s still holding him firmly, fucking him open and whining at the feeling of Kuroo’s body tightening around him, and the feeling just sends Kuroo even higher, his voice filling the humid air and wiping Bokuto’s mind of all else. Bokuto squeezes his eyes shut and moans for him, his thrusts stuttering and losing rhythm as he rides the edge of orgasm.
Just before he loses it, Bokuto quickly pulls out and leans forward, ripping the condom off and stroking himself roughly. He comes hard in thick spurts, adding to the mess all over Kuroo’s stomach, and as he rocks his hips into his hand and shakes apart, he shivers out sweet little moans of Kuroo’s name like it’s all he knows.
Kuroo’s still recovering, still panting heavily when Bokuto slumps against him and buries his face in his neck, so he just slings his free arm around his neck and holds onto him for a while.
Once Bokuto has control over his muscles again, he sits back with a groan and leans over to root around the center console for napkins. He mops up the mess on Kuroo’s stomach with shaking hands, then tucks himself back into his underwear, and that’s apparently all the cleanup he has the brains for, seeing as he immediately wraps his arms around Kuroo’s waist and buries his face back in his neck like he has every intention of living there.
Laughing breathlessly, Kuroo reaches down and wipes his hand off on Bokuto’s jeans, which just earns him a vague grumble. He runs his other hand through his hair and exhales slowly, hooking his thighs around Bokuto’s waist again, then finally mumbles, “Holy shit.”
“Hrgnh.”
“Good work, dude,” Kuroo snickers. He means it, too; he’s fairly sure most of his brains are still somewhere in orbit.
“’S team effort,” Bokuto responds after a few seconds, his words muffled against dark, bruised skin. “Good team,” he clarifies helpfully.
“Yeah, okay.” Humming warmly, Kuroo lets his hands wander across Bokuto’s broad shoulders, trailing gently up and down his spine until Bokuto’s a limp jellyfish against him, all pleased rumbling and firm snuggles. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me,” Kuroo murmurs, turning to nuzzle into Bokuto’s hair.
“’M not, ‘m awake.”
“Uh-huh.”
Bokuto grumbles more, then unwinds himself from Kuroo and sits up, his dark eyes still somewhat glazed over. He runs his hands down his face, then shakes his head, and with that he’s officially bounced back. “Hey, Kuroo,” he chirps, leaning over him with a wide grin that practically screams trouble. “Next we should do it with you on your stomach.”
Kuroo laughs loudly at that, pushing his hand against Bokuto’s grinning face. “Next? Insatiable.”
“Bro, I have a lot of Kuroo-centric sexual fantasies to work through,” Bokuto says, and even though he’s laughing as he says it, Kuroo doesn’t doubt it in the least. “It’ll be so good, I promise,” he continues, his words muffled by Kuroo’s palm. “And after that you can top me. You can pick the position for that one.”
“Jesus Christ, dude,” Kuroo cackles, digging his heels into the small of Bokuto’s back. “You can’t be serious.”
Bokuto shakes Kuroo’s hand off his face and leans down, staring pleadingly at him. “What, it was good, right?”
“It was the greatest,” Kuroo replies honestly. “But my ass is wrecked, man.”
“It’s okay, you have plenty of time to recover,” Bokuto states, before he sits up and squints into the front seat. “It’s only—wait, it’s five thirty in the morning?!”
“No, dumbass, you changed the clock to four twenty, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” Bokuto grins back down at Kuroo, unfazed by his teasing grin. “Well, whatever, you have time. I can wait.”
Kuroo raises an eyebrow at him, and when Bokuto sits on his heels between Kuroo’s knees and smiles expectantly, Kuroo barks out a sharp laugh and pushes him over with his foot, enjoying his startled yelp far too much.
A while later, when they’re mostly dressed and leaning heavily against each other in the backseat, their fingers laced between them, Bokuto turns and drags slow, lazy kisses through Kuroo’s hair, then mumbles, “Hey, let’s go back to your place. Kenma’s probably still hanging out with Akaashi at mine.”
“Yeah, okay,” Kuroo sighs. He tilts his head up and purses his lips pointedly, and when Bokuto laughs his tired, smoky laugh and leans in to kiss him sweetly, Kuroo’s heart does stupid, lovestruck acrobatics in his chest.
“Hey, when we get to yours, you should let me spread you out on your bed and eat you out for like three hours.”
Grinning lazily, Kuroo sits up and reaches for his shoes as he replies, “Only if you carry me there.”
“Aw, dude, you’re heavy!” Bokuto warbles, leaning over and headbutting Kuroo’s shoulder pleadingly.
Kuroo snorts and elbows Bokuto in the head for that. “So are you, but you didn’t hear me complaining.”
“You could’ve. I would’ve moved.” He pauses, then sits up, and Kuroo can practically feel Bokuto’s frantic stare as he bleats, “Dude, was I squashing you? Don’t let me squash you!”
“Oh my god,” Kuroo laughs. He turns and swings one leg over Bokuto’s lap, straddling him easily so he can pull him into a soothing, albeit somewhat bitey, kiss. “Unclench your butt cheeks, man, I liked it.”
“Oh. Okay.” Bokuto grins wildly and slings his arms around Kuroo’s waist, then pulls him into another kiss, humming contently against Kuroo’s smiling lips.
Once Bokuto’s satisfied with his kisses for the moment, Kuroo peels away from him and opens the door, then slides out into the cool, misting rain. He stretches loudly, groaning as his joints pop more than a few times, before turning to watch Bokuto lean into the front seat and turn the car off. He clambers out after Kuroo and locks the doors, then turns and crouches down slightly, staring expectantly over his shoulder.
For all his complaining, Bokuto seems more than happy to give Kuroo a piggyback ride across the small field between the parking lot and Kuroo’s apartment building, especially once Kuroo exacts his vengeance and starts whispering ‘Koutarou’ into Bokuto’s ear all low and raspy.
Omniscient as always, Kenma stays at Akaashi’s for a few days, mostly out of mercy for himself. There are some unholy things reasonable human ears were not meant to overhear, and as far as he’s concerned, whatever passes for dirty talk between Bokuto and Kuroo is pretty solidly at the top of that list.