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Bokuto just doesn't see what the big deal is whenever his classmates talk about going to not their usual combini to pick up condoms, trying to hide them in a bunch of other stuff, the horror of running into someone you know while you do the errand. They're just condoms? Shouldn't people be happy you're being safe and responsible?
"Oh, hang on a sec," he tells Oikawa while Oikawa is dithering over the protein bars, then rounds the corner to grab a new box because he remembers Kuroo rolling the last one onto him last night while teasing Akaashi about their rate of consumption. They even have their favorite brand, and Bokuto feels deep caveman satisfaction at being a good boyfriend provider.
"Bokkun, if you don't mind me asking, you go through quite the number of those," Oikawa says when he notices the box in Bokuto's hands.
"Not by myself!" Bokuto says cheerfully. "Dude has needs, man."
"Where that energy comes from, I don't know," Oikawa sighs, and Bokuto has to swallow a laugh as he realizes Oikawa thinks it's Bokuto who needs so much attention instead of Akaashi. He doesn't correct Oikawa, though, because sometimes Oikawa and Akaashi hang out and Bokuto's isn't sure how much Akaashi's told him. Bokuto doesn't want to make it awkward.
"You know," the clerk says, and his expression is the tense smile of someone who is offering advice that is likely unwanted, "it'd be cheaper just to buy a case of these at once online."
Oikawa's eyebrow climbs into his hairline. "Bokkun, how often do you come here?"
"Oikawa!" Bokuto cracks up, delighted, while Oikawa hollers that's not what he meant.
At home, Bokuto spams the group chat with a bunch of pictures, smiling to himself about how they're not even a tiny bit scandalous but are guaranteed to bring Akaashi running over here after work. He could just text, but that's no fun. There's a picture of his smelly sneakers in the entry way, then one of the heap of his sweaty practice clothes on the floor, then one of the shower running before he gets into it, and one of his bed also empty. The last one is a selfie of Bokuto grinning and flashing a peace sign at the camera, cheeks still flushed from the shower and hair down damp and flat.
Then he curls up in bed with some of his seminar reading until the small buzz of arousal he'd worked up doing that goes away. He knows so much better than to get himself too worked up when the others are on the way home.
An hour later, there's the slam of the door and the thunk of someone kicking off shoes and dropping their bag, and then Akaashi marches into Bokuto's doorway and points to him like he's the detective in an afternoon crime drama.
"YOU," Akaashi snarls.
"Me!" Bokuto grins, dropping his textbook carelessly over the edge of the bed and holding his arms open wide. Akaashi is in them in half a second flat, shirt unbuttoned and falling down his shoulders, hands splaying across Bokuto's pecs as he kisses Bokuto wet and deep. Bokuto hums, getting his own hands up the back of Akaashi's shirt and dragging his fingertips down hot skin. When it breaks, Akaashi dragging sharp-toothed kisses up the line of Bokuto's jaw, Bokuto is humming with pleasure all over his skin, and he surges forward to kiss Akaashi wherever he can reach, his throat, his cheek, his collarbone, his shoulder just above where the shirt is caught against his skin.
Akaashi manages to tear himself away with a pained groan. "I'm getting a shower. Kuroo'll be home in thirty. Don't move."
"'Kay," Bokuto says, as if he had any intention of going anywhere anyway. He's still touching Akaashi all over, gripping his ribs, his waist, his ass, until Akaashi slaps his hands away and stumbles off the bed, unsteady for a second before stomping to the shower, shedding clothes this way and that. Bokuto reaches for his phone and flips over to the chat that's just him and Kuroo.
[hope ur close to home bro] he texts, eyes darting from his phone to the doorway. [defcon 4 sex rage]
[OBVS] is Kuroo's response. [you sent all those sex pics!!]
There's a pause. And then:
[dude show me ur dick right now]
Bokuto has to hold in his laughter while complying so the jiggling of his stomach doesn't make his dick blurry, but he chuckles the whole time he's sending it, imagining Kuroo's face on the train as he tries to keep it together in public. The laughter dies in his throat when he looks up and Akaashi is in the doorway to his bedroom again, barely dried off at all and eyes cutting into Bokuto like a chocolate birthday cake.
"Tettsun's almost home?" Bokuto offers, already fumbling his phone onto the nightstand without really looking.
"You might live that long," Akaashi growls, and then he pounces, literally hops off the floor from the end of Bokuto's bed and lands on him hard, and Bokuto loves Akaashi so much he could just die sometimes.
Bokuto loves kissing Akaashi, their mouths slick together, Akaashi's hands tight in his hair, the way his throat vibrates with a moan when Bokuto rolls them over to press Akaashi down with his weight. He loves the way their torsos and thighs slot together, Bokuto's warm skin against Akaashi's water-cool body, Akaashi warming up as they rub against each other until he's all fire and it's Bokuto breaking out in goosebumps instead. He loves the way Akaashi parts his thighs and Bokuto just falls into the space like diving into the ocean, being dragged away by the roll and crash of waves and tasting salt against Akaashi's throat.
And it's funny because as Bokuto starts to go all to pieces, Akaashi always gets calmer, more in control, so it's Akaashi who grips Bokuto by the shoulder to push him back and says, voice rough, "Let's make a really good picture for Tetsurou to walk in here on."
"God, yes," Bokuto moans. Akaashi gets him pushed up against the headboard, propped up against the pillows so he has a perfect line of sight to both his doorway and also Akaashi between his legs, wrapping those slick, pink lips around the head of his dick and sliding down so, so slow.
He comes back up and his mouth slides off Bokuto with a quiet pop, pinning Bokuto with a look so fierce Bokuto is pinned to the headboard like a butterfly. "And don't you dare come before he sees you like this."
"Keiiijiiiii," Bokuto whines, because he's going to actually die. Akaashi's so good at sucking him down, teasing him with swirls of his tongue before taking him in so deep, but it's the sight of it that Bokuto can't handle at all, Akaashi's fingers pressing into the muscles of Bokuto's thighs, his hair mussed from Bokuto's fingers earlier, the way he stares up at Bokuto to see every whimper and twitch. Bokuto twists his fingers tight in his sheets and clenches his jaw, but he doesn't try to swallow any of his noises because he always wants Akaashi to know what he does to Bokuto, always.
When he hears the door a second time, Bokuto nearly cries in relief, voice cracking as he hollers a desperate, "Tettsuuuurouuuuuu!"
"All right, all right, hi!" Kuroo calls, laughing, but as soon as he appears in the doorway his eyes go wide before he sags against the doorframe. "Fuck, you two, damn!" He's already shucking his clothes, pants hitting the floor and hoodie coming over his head, his eyes everywhere from Bokuto's face to his heaving chest to his cock slipping in and out of Akaashi's mouth to Akaashi's ass flexing as he rubs himself off against the sheets.
"Please," Bokuto begs and he wants to reach for Kuroo but his fingers are stiff from being curled too hard in the sheets too long. Akaashi brushes fingers against his balls and Bokuto's spine arches back. "Tell him, please, made me wait for you—" Bokuto's words fail as a moan spills out instead.
"Yeah, mm, poor Koutarou," Kuroo says, coming close enough to weave fingers into Akaashi's hair, close enough that Bokuto can see the tendons of his wrist flexing. "Make him come for me?"
That's all Bokuto can take, and he's coming down Akaashi's throat hard enough to bang his skull against the headboard. It feels like it takes forever after waiting so long, and Bokuto is dizzy and breathless when he slumps against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut and whining softly as Akaashi keeps on sucking him, although more gently, licking away every trace of Bokuto's release and then some. Bokuto hums when long fingers work between his head and the pillow.
"Feels good," he says, opening unfocused eyes to smile at Kuroo.
"I'm making sure you didn't give yourself a goose egg, you idiot," Kuroo says. His body is tense with arousal, but his grin is soft at the edges for Bokuto. "I'm home."
"Welcome home," Bokuto says. His arms feel like lead but he lifts them anyway, pulling Kuroo down to cuddle happily against Kuroo's chest. He looks over his shoulder to Akaashi, sitting up on his knees and rolling the crick out of his neck, cock so hard and pink it's like Akaashi could fight someone with it, tip shiny with precome.
Bokuto rolls more squarely onto Kuroo's stomach, bumping their noses together as he gets knees in between Kuroo's thighs, spreading them so he can spread his own. They're like a flower, he thinks, lust-drunk, and he chuckles wetly into the curve of Kuroo's neck. Akaashi's like a cute fuzzy bee who just wants to be all up in their petals.
"Fuck me?" Bokuto says, wiggling a little as best he can when half his body won't work. He's so relaxed it won't take much to get him ready, and he wants to make out with Kuroo.
"Yeah, please," Kuroo mutters, hands sliding down to grip Bokuto's ass, spreading him wide for Akaashi.
That's exactly how they do it, Akaashi grinding deep and slow into Bokuto while Kuroo kisses all the oxygen out of Bokuto's lungs, and then again with Akaashi riding Kuroo and fucking up into Bokuto's fist until he comes over Kuroo's abs, Bokuto curled all along Akaashi's back so he can feel every tremor and shiver.
"Get off, you two weigh a ton," Kuroo groans, rubbing at his thighs when they tumble to the side. There's some fiddling with condoms and tissues and whatever, but Bokuto only half attends to what's going on until Kuroo tells him to get in the middle already.
"I get middle?" Bokuto asks, delighted. They let Akaashi have it a lot, but Bokuto loves the middle, the security of Akaashi spooning with him, possessive hand around his waist, plus the favorite stuffed animal feel of Kuroo hugging him from the front, scrunching down until Bokuto can rub his face against the soft, ridiculous whorls of Kuroo's hair.
"You did start it," Akaashi reminds, voice mild and relaxed. He noses at the back of Bokuto's neck, ruffling the hair there softly. "And you remembered the condoms."
Bokuto sighs in satisfaction. See, if he buys them online, he won't get rewarded like this nearly as often.