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Daichi wasn’t sure what he was looking at.
He had forgotten his phone in the locker room, but there was plenty of time before lights out at the camp, so he went back before showering after letting the first and second years have their turns… only to find Hinata sitting by the laundry basket, holding a pair of shorts to his face.
The kid was trembling, kneeling on the ground with both hands pressing the fabric tightly against his nose and mouth. He drew in a long, shivering breath that died in a soft whimper.
“Hinata?”
The boy’s eyes snapped up in complete horror. He tossed the piece of clothing across the room, immediately pulling his shirt over his crotch with shaky hands.
“C-c-captain!” Hinata squeaked. “I thought—I thought you had left already—”
“I had…” Daichi frowned, walking towards the bench in the middle of the room to pick up his phone and show it to the boy before him. “I forgot this… Hinata, what were you doing?”
The kid was silent, lips pursed in a firm line as he fiddled with the hem of his uniform.
“Hinata.”
He flinched, refusing eye contact.
“Hinata, were you… smelling someone’s uniform?”
The kid’s eyes started to water. Damn it, Daichi did not want to deal with this, especially with such a young first year. Whatever Hinata was discovering about himself was fine, but having to tell a kid off for being inappropriate with other people’s belongings… that was not something a volleyball captain signed up for.
But then again, being an authority figure often came with responsibilities one never really signs up for.
Daichi walked towards the piece of fabric crumpled on the floor, listening to Hinata’s anxious breaths as he picked it up. He sighed heavily.
“Hinata, I understand there might be… certain things you like doing in private…” Daichi started. Awkward, fumbling, blush spreading across his cheeks. “But you have to understand—”
And then he saw it.
Volleyball clubs often had members who shared the same sized clothing, it wasn’t uncommon to mark one’s clothes in case they could get mixed up. And on the inner band of the shorts in his hands, Daichi could read the tag clear as day.
Sawamura.
“Captain…” Hinata started, voice shaky and wet with tears. “I’m… sorry… I can explain—”
“Hinata,” Daichi spoke, stern.
“Yes, sir…”
He turned around to face the boy, who shrunk on the floor under the man’s glare.
“Did you pull something from the laundry bag at random?”
Hinata shifted in his seat, hands still grabbing tightly at the hem of his shirt.
“Hinata, answer me.”
The boy flinched again, head dropping. He shook his head.
Daichi sighed heavily. Of all things to have to deal with… and right before his shower, too. He was uncomfortable, still drenched in sweat and way too warm with clothes sticking to his skin, he didn’t have time to teach a kid not to be perverted—especially with himself, the captain. If there was a harder line to cross, Daichi couldn’t imagine it.
He walked towards the boy and squatted before him, holding the shorts in a tight grip.
Hinata shivered, hands moving incessantly on black fabric and still avoiding eye contact.
“Hinata, I’m your captain,” Daichi started. “If you have feelings for me, I appreciate them, but this kind of behavior is unacceptable. It’s inappropriate and—”
He paused. Frowned.
Hinata was breathing quickly, too quickly. Daichi’s eyes widened in concern. The last thing he needed was giving the first year a panic attack.
“Are you okay, Hinata? Hey.” He grabbed the boy’s shoulder, straightening him up.
But his face wasn’t one of pain or panic. No, Hinata looked…
“Sawamura-san…” He murmured. “I’m… sorry… please, let me—”
It shouldn’t have happened.
Shoyo had always been careful about… this. It was foul and perverted, he knew it quite well, but he was always, always careful. He never got anything dirty, never took anything home, it was always just a whiff and he was done. Maybe, maybe he would touch himself, if he knew for sure he had the time, but that was rare, it hadn’t happened in months.
He had tried to stop himself multiple times throughout the years, but Shoyo’s eyes were always drawn to whichever classmate or club mate seemed to heat up faster, sweat harder. And the smell… locker rooms were always minefields, and every time he tried to stop himself from indulging in his afterschool activities, Shoyo would end up getting hard just by getting changed after a practice match, desperately hiding his crotch from everyone else.
All because of sweat and musk, wafting and dripping off his friends, making him dizzy, desperate.
The knowledge that he’d be able to hold someone’s dirty clothes to his face afterwards was the only thing that kept him sane.
A necessary evil, he told himself.
It didn’t match his personality. It was embarrassing, shameful, and Shoyo hated it, but it was almost a need. It kept him up at night, made him shifty and distracted… so if bringing a pair of sweaty shorts to his face for a couple seconds every now and then did the trick, well…
Was it really that bad?
As long as he didn’t get caught, of course. As long as he was careful.
And he was. Damn it, he was! For years, he had been careful.
And then the captain, always watchful and on top of everything, the father figure of the team, always responsible and aware of his belongings, forgot his phone.
Stupid, stupid, Shoyo was so stupid.
He was running a million excuses through his head in the mere minute it took for the captain to find him and then find out whose shorts Shoyo had on him.
It wasn’t on purpose, it wasn’t malicious… it was simple—the captain ran hot, smelled stronger than everyone else, and Shoyo couldn’t help but notice.
It was hard not to, not when the captain was always dripping wet, musk wafting off him in heavy waves that took over the locker rooms, uniform caked over his body, clinging to muscles with sweat that ran down his armpits and crotch… Shoyo wondered if he could fill a glass just by wringing the man’s clothes after a long day of practice.
He wondered how it would taste to drink it all up.
But it was hard to think straight now. Shoyo really wished he was just embarrassed, caught red handed and all that… but he had already been dizzy from sniffing the captain’s shorts, and Sawamura squatting in front of him, underwear and undershirt clinging to his skin with pungent sweat, the strong musk from the man’s spread legs with the underlying hint of body spray—it was hard to breathe. Rather, it was hard not to breathe it all in.
Shoyo being caught red handed was one thing, but Sawamura realizing he was dizzy on the captain’s smell was something else entirely.
He was going to be kicked off the team. He was going to be kicked off the school. Could Shoyo go to jail for this? Could he get a life sentence?
He was panicking hard, but his erection wasn’t even faltering. If anything, Sawamura’s judgemental eyes on him just made it all so much worse. Damn it.
“Please, let me explain—” he continued, desperate.
“I don’t think there’s much to explain, here.”
Sawamura wasn’t yelling, which just made Shoyo even more anxious. His vision blurred as a soft whimper left his knotted throat.
“How long have you been doing this?” The captain started, then clamped his mouth shut, seemingly lost in thought, before opening it again with a much angrier tone. “Is this why you stay in the club room after practice so often?”
Shoyo didn’t dare reply, hands twisting at the hem of his shirt so hard he was worried he would rip it, and yet he couldn’t stop his body acting out in panic.
Sawamura sighed heavily. Shoyo almost expected him to say he wasn’t mad, just disappointed, but he knew the captain long enough to know that he could get mad, and when he did, guilt wasn’t the only thing he made people feel. Shoyo was terrified.
“Have you done this to anyone else’s clothes?”
Shoyo took a moment, weighing the possibilities of lying and telling the truth. He figured the truth might hurt him less, and shook his head. “N-no…”
A beat of silence followed it. Sawamura scratched the back of his own neck awkwardly.
“Is this… some weird way of acting out on a crush?” He finally asked.
Weird. Yeah. Of course Shoyo was weird, he knew it better than anyone else. He really wished it was just a harmless crush rather than a disgusting need that haunted him.
“N-no, it’s…” Shoyo murmured, words trapped between hiccuped sobbing. “It’s just… something that… relaxes me, I suppose… I’ve been doing it for a while and it just… it helps… I get anxious and dizzy if I don’t do it, I can’t sleep… it’s weird, I’m weird…” He gritted his teeth, finally looking up at the man before him. “I know it’s weird, I know! I’m sorry… I won’t… do it again…”
Sawamura’s expression was unreadable, but it wasn’t as furious as Shoyo expected it.
He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
The captain stood up slowly with a soft grunt, and he was so, so painfully close it made Shoyo’s brain foggy. He could spot the wet patch of sweat darkening the underwear between the man’s thighs, he could smell the heavy musk, he could see the gentle curve of Sawamura’s soft dick tucked behind white cotton, and it was so close he could touch it, he could taste it, if he just… if he could just…
“So you like this kind of stuff?” The captain said, so matter-of-factly it broke through the fog in Shoyo’s brain.
There was little judgement in the captain’s voice, it was more of a… realization. Shoyo looked up at him, still near hyperventilating from how close he was to the source of his fantasies for months now.
Sawamura turned to look at the locker room door, seemingly lost in thought.
“And you said it relaxes you? Helps you sleep?”
Shoyo nodded carefully.
“...Well, then.”
It was all the warning Shoyo got before the captain’s free hand wrapped around the boy’s hair in a firm grip and pulled his face against Sawamura’s crotch. The hair pulling earned him a squeal, but the moment Shoyo’s nose and mouth were buried into the captain’s soft cock and felt the heat of his musk against his skin, the boy couldn’t help the drawn out moan that dripped out his parted lips.
The smell was pungent, made him dizzy with ecstasy. Every breath seemed to fill his lungs with heat and moisture, and Shoyo almost wished he could just die right then and there, asphyxiated by the burning scent of the captain’s musk. He closed his eyes, feeling his throat vibrating with a low moan as he nuzzled and mouthed at the wet fabric, lips closing around the soft prick outlined by white cotton.
“Daichi-san, Daichi-san…” Shoyo murmured, begged.
Sawamura sighed heavily, stroking Shoyo’s hair with gentle calloused fingers.
“I won’t tell anyone,” the captain said. “Have at it. I’m here to take care of my boys.”
The noise that came out of Shoyo’s throat was more animal than man. Have at it, Sawamura said, handing Shoyo’s fantasies on a platter.
The kid mouthed desperately at Sawamura’s dick, taking long, noisy breaths the whole time. He lowered his mouth to the inside of the captain’s thigh and licked the salty sweat beads rolling down his legs, making the man twitch ever so slightly at the soft touch of his tongue.
Shoyo was drunk on it, losing any sense of composure with every whiff of Sawamura’s musk, every taste of his sweat. His hands grabbed the back of the captain’s thighs, pulling him closer, tighter, flush against the boy’s face.
It was completely different. Pressing used shorts to his face was to this what summer showers were to a thunderstorm. The heat of skin against his face, the taste of sweat dripping off someone’s body, the smell wafting off every crevice… Shoyo could barely stand it.
“Hey—Hinata,” the captain scolded, pulling him away with a tug on his hair. Shoyo blushed over the noise that came out his lips. “Calm down, I’m not going anywhere.”
The kid blinked, feeling the blood rushing to his face. Not just for being scolded or for being aroused out of his mind, but because Sawamura seemed so calm and collected it disoriented Shoyo. He was barely flushed, still soft in his underwear, with a stern look on his face.
It should have made Shoyo embarrassed, but it just riled him up more.
Shoyo brought his hands to the captain’s underwear, tugging gently at the waistband.
“Can I…?”
There was a gentle curl on the corner of the captain’s lips.
“Can you, what?” He then pressed, tone still perfectly calm.
Shoyo swallowed dry. He shifted on his knees, feeling the uncomfortable twitching of his trapped erection. The kid looked downwards for a moment, before facing his captain again with a determined but sheepish stare.
“Can I suck you off, captain?”
Sawamura chuckled lightly. He looked at the entrance again for a handful of seconds, deep in thought as his eyes and ears scanned for any signs of life near the locker room. The captain then turned to look back down at Shoyo, and with a soft sigh, he nodded. “Go ahead.”
The shiver of excitement that shook his body was embarrassing, but impossible to hold back. The captain, the man whose sweat Shoyo had been shamelessly smelling and tasting for months now, was now inches away from him, wafting off musk and giving Shoyo permission to touch him, to taste him…
Shoyo licked his dry lips, fingers curling around the waistband of Sawamura’s underwear as his thighs shifted excitedly. The hand on the kid’s head gently stroked his scalp, coaxing him on as Shoyo slowly dragged the fabric down, down, and was faced with the first dick he’d ever seen that wasn’t his own, as his nose was barraged with the overwhelming odor of day long sweat.
It made his mouth water.
The captain was big even when soft. The curve of his cock gently draped over heavy balls, skin velvet smooth from base to tip and god, Shoyo was hungry.
The kid buried his face in it, nuzzling and mouthing at the soft skin, feeling the heat of Sawamura’s musk enveloping his face. He couldn’t help but moan; a low, drawn out whimper that seemed to echo off the walls. It reeked, pungent and tangy with every breath he took and every slide of his tongue over the captain’s cock.
It didn’t even bother him that Sawamura seemed barely interested, that the prick he wrapped his lips around had only just started to show any interest under his desperate mouthing. Shoyo still shivered as he felt the slight twitch inside his mouth when he swallowed it whole, cock slowly swelling as Shoyo wrapped his tongue over and under the soft skin, tasting every inch of it, dipping inside the foreskin and swirling around the tip as it gently grew in his mouth.
The captain cursed softly under his breath, fingers wrapping just a little tighter around Shoyo’s hair, and it made the boy whimper.
“Fuck, Hinata…” Daichi groaned, stuck between tightening the grip on the kid’s hair and stroking his hair for the performance.
Daichi was completely awestruck by the situation he found himself in. He hadn’t even thought of Hinata in a sexual way—hell, he hadn’t thought Hinata as sexual at all, and yet here the boy was, on his knees, desperately sucking the captain’s cock in between huffing his sweat.
He wasn’t sure if this was a fucked up dream or a sweet nightmare, but he wasn’t about to complain.
Daichi could barely get into it, though, the fear and anxiety of being walked in on making his eyes flitter to the locker room door constantly. It was a camp filled with people of half a dozen different schools, along with their managers, coaches, advisors… if anyone saw him and Hinata like this, Daichi knew quite well who would take the blame.
But the way the kid had looked back then… shifting on his knees, shorts tight around his twitching erection, eyes darting everywhere looking for an excuse to give, and right after admitting to having been smelling Daichi’s used shorts for months.
What was he supposed to do?
Take care of his underclassman, that’s what.
This was for Hinata, to help him, to relax him. Daichi told it to himself over and over as the little voice in the back of his head whispered uncomfortable truths about taking advantage of a vulnerable kid. But it was hard to listen with the desperate suckling and moaning coming from beneath him.
Hinata pulled off, a trail of spit connecting the tip of Daichi’s cock to the boy’s glistening lips as he breathed hard. The captain was barely hard but suddenly felt like he could cum just from drinking in that sight. It was obscenely sexual, even smelled of exertion… and yet Hinata’s expression was draped with innocent determination.
“Is that good?” The kid asked. “Is that okay?”
Daichi couldn’t help but chuckle. He stroked the bright orange hair, feeling sweat collecting over the boy’s scalp. His hand lowered, thumb brushing over Hinata’s cheek and landing just atop his lower lip.
“Just do what feels good to you, don’t worry about me.”
Not because Daichi was being nice, but because it was mesmerizing to watch such a little thing worship every inch of his cock without needing to even ask for it, getting dizzy on his sweat and actively licking it off his body like a parched man.
Hinata’s whole body visibly shivered in excitement, and the boy dug in yet again.
Sucking, licking, huffing, moaning loudly against Daichi’s crotch, like a pretty little whore.
What a horrid way to see his own teammate, and yet it felt so befitting it was hard not to think it.
Daichi watched with wonder as Hinata worked, softly cursing and praising under his breath, petting the boy’s hair to coax him on, push him harder, draw higher and more desperate moans from his busy lips.
It was a wonder Daichi lasted this long, really.
“Hinata, wait—c’mere,” he finally said, almost growled. Daichi pulled the kid up on his feet by the back of his collar, watching as Hinata fell against the captain’s chest, shaking like a wet cat.
“C-captain?”
“Turn around.”
Hinata looked up. “Sorry?”
“Turn around, Hinata, c’mon,” Daichi smiled, trying for gentle, but he knew there was a sharpness to his grin he couldn’t hide anymore. “I’ll help you feel good.”
The boy blinked, uncertain for a moment, but he trusted Daichi, trusted his captain, and he was already so drunk on the man’s sweat and musk Daichi knew if he asked Hinata to jump in an ice bath, he would barely hesitate. Hinata turned around, wide eyes still looking over his shoulder, and squealed softly when the man laid a hand on his upper back to bend Hinata over.
Daichi took a deep breath, gazing intently at the way the boy’s back curved, the way his ass jutted out, the way his legs struggled to keep him up.
“Captain, what are you—”
But Daichi didn’t let him finish, neither his words nor his breath. He pressed his soaping wet shorts to the boy’s face, pungent sweat rubbing over his soft little nose, and immediately felt Hinata’s moan reverberating against his palm.
Hinata’s feet pitter pattered in place, sneakers squeaking softly on the flooring as his hands grabbed at Daichi’s own—not to pull it away, but pull it closer, flush against his red tinted button nose and his keening soft lips as he took the longest and deepest breath Daichi had ever heard in his life.
The way the kid shook from head to toe and his eyes rolled up with an expression somewhere between pain and complete ecstasy made Daichi’s eyes widen.
“Did you just…” he started, licked his lips, and tried uselessly to keep the grin from creeping over his face. “Did you just cum, Hinata?”
The boy’s eyes slowly turned to look at his captain, pleading, begging for mercy, but those little hands were still pressed tight over Daichi’s grip.
“So it is true,” the captain clicked his tongue. He moved forward, feeling the soft slide of Hinata’s shorts under his twitching cock as he pressed against the kid’s ass. “I still had a bit of a suspicion… that this was some odd crush on me. But you really just have such an unfortunate fetish…”
Daichi’s grip tightened around Hinata’s face, fat flushed cheeks jutting out over his fingers, and felt the hot little breaths quickening over his skin, baby moans vibrating against his palm.
“I always thought any normal person would find a man who sweats this much disgusting,” he chuckled softly. “Never thought anyone would prefer it this way…”
His other hand held the kid’s waist, and it was so skinny under his long fingers Daichi was scared he would break the boy in half. He ground down against the cleft of Hinata’s ass, perfectly framed by the black shorts that always seemed way too short over those slender legs.
Hinata’s rhythmic little moans gave way to a panicked squeal when Daichi’s hand moved to pull those pesky shorts down. The sweat made the fabric stick to glistening skin, but the boy never tried to stop him, just shook harder, shifted his feet faster. Daichi couldn’t tell if he was excited or scared.
Daichi wasn’t sure he cared at that point.
Not when he was faced with the soft, porcelain like skin under those shorts. Unblemished and pale, contrasted by the kid’s tanned, bruised up legs that always took the brunt of his jumping and running around.
Daichi took a deep breath, grabbing the left cheek with a rude grip and spreading the boy open for him. One of Hinata’s hands finally shot back to cover his fluttering hole, but Daichi just squeezed his face harder, only enough to lightly bruise the kid, and it was rude and obscene, taking advantage of his little underclassman like that, but surely, surely Hinata expected this, right?
Riling a man up by sniffing his dirty clothes and then sucking him off like a desperate whore… Daichi was simply giving Hinata what he was asking for.
He was supposed to take care of his team, one way or another. Whether he wanted it or not.
And fuck, he was going to take good care of Hinata. After what he did, how Daichi found him, what he admitted to—reward or punishment, this would be exactly what Hinata needed.
“Hinata, uncover yourself.”
The kid shook his head, dizzy, flushed and tight like a little rosebud, trembling like a leaf.
“Hinata, listen to your captain.” Daichi commanded, a sneer escaping his lips. “You trust me, don’t you? Isn’t this what you wanted? Come on, be good for me.”
It seemed to break the kid, arms seizing up as he mewled softly against Daichi’s hand. His little fingers curled into a tight fist before Hinata moved them, clasped them back over the captain’s hand, holding his pungent shorts to the boy’s flushed little nose.
“Good, there you go. Attaboy.”
Daichi slid his thumb over the cleft of Hinata’s ass, rubbing gently around his tight little hole. The man’s whole body trembled with shameless excitement.
The sweat beads dripping down that tight little cleft made it easy to slide a thumb inside, drawing the prettiest whine from Hinata’s trapped lips, and it made Daichi’s cock twitch in want, need. It was tight, so tight inside the kid, and warm like a burning oven. He felt sweat beading on his forehead just thinking of how it would feel to have that soft heat wrapped around him.
Daichi wondered how long he’d last inside the boy.
Hinata’s sounds were something in between sobs and moans as the captain slowly breached him, pulling that rosy hole open to glimpse the red walls clenching inside, warm and inviting like nothing he’d ever seen. He fucked him slowly, gently, glancing at the locker room door every other second.
He needed to make this quick, he was already risking way too much.
“Hinata,” Daichi spoke softly, “Have you touched yourself here before?”
The kid froze, flush rising to the tips of his ears.
“By yourself?”
A nod.
“How many fingers?”
He pulled the shorts from Hinata’s face, just enough for the boy’s lips to move.
“F… four…”
“Often?”
Hinata stilled again. Then nodded.
“Alright,” Daichi squeezed the fabric against his face again, tight grip slotting perfectly around those baby fat cheeks. “You trust me?”
Another nod, languid and careful.
Daichi pulled out and almost immediately grabbed for his own cock, lining himself up with the boy’s slick, twitching hole.
The kid could handle it. Daichi just had to be slow.
When the tip of his cock pressed against the little pucker, Hinata squeaked in shock. Daichi immediately squeezed his face tighter, hushed him, pressed his body down against the boy’s back.
“Shhhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath.”
It took a couple seconds of quick breaths for Hinata to finally listen. Daichi felt the little body shaking underneath him as it took a long, deep breath.
“Good job, good, so fucking good for me…” he licked his lips. “Now breathe out, slowly.”
As Hinata, bless his soul, obeyed so readily, Daichi immediately pushed inside.
He expected Hinata to scream or bite him in the best case scenario, but Daichi couldn’t help grinning as he watched the kid’s eyes rolling back and heard his breathing morphing into a sluggish moan. He pushed slowly but relentlessly, inch by inch, feeling the hug of Hinata’s insides squeezing the damn life out of him as he carefully bottomed out.
“Fuck, Hinata…” Daichi finally breathed out, hoarse and lost in his own bliss.
He heard the kid mumbling breathless against his palm, desperately trying to speak through the layers. When Daichi pulled his hand back, spit obscenely tethering Hinata’s pink lips to the fabric, the boy’s pleas made his head swirl.
“Captain… please… ahh… please, deeper… move… please, I want it…”
Daichi couldn’t very well ignore such a polite little request, now, could he?
Shoyo didn’t have expectations for his first time.
With someone he loved, probably, or maybe just someone pretty. A girlfriend, a nice girl, someone who he had been dating for a long time. It would be slow, romantic. Maybe, after an especially beautiful date night, he would take her home, would gently undress her, and they would make love.
Every boy’s dream for their first time went something like that, and Shoyo was aware of that. He wasn’t in any way creative, nor was he adventurous, so he was plenty sure the actual thing would be somewhat similar to his so-called fantasies.
So this… this was… a little different.
Of all the possibilities he had run through his head, being fucked by his captain in the changing room during a training camp after being caught huffing the man’s sweat was probably not even the last thing he would have imagined, it was simply not a possibility whatsoever.
And yet, here he was.
Stuffed full of Sawamura’s cock, practically gagging on the captain’s sweat, bent over with his shorts around his ankles.
Shoyo had fingered himself before, and often too, but the real thing was so much more. He felt like he was going to puke from the pressure alone, he was sure he could feel his organs being pushed out of the way to make way for Sawamura as he split Shoyo in half slowly, carefully, arduously.
The pungent smell against his nose seemed sharper, and he took comfort in it, huffing and suckling on the fabric as the captain bottomed out.
And then all he could do was moan and beg for more.
“Please… please, I want it…”
He didn’t want to say more, it was embarrassing enough to ask for it so blatantly as it was. Thankfully, the captain was kind.
Kind enough to kiss the back of Shoyo’s neck before he held him by the waist and ruthlessly fucked him.
Shoyo was certain he could feel the man’s cock all the way into his stomach, ramming his insides with every thrust, rearranging his guts to the captain’s liking. He wished he could say he disliked it in any way, or was even remotely uncomfortable, in pain, anything, but all he could do was moan and tremble with every pounding, every time Sawamura fucked so deep inside him he could feel the bile rising in his throat, pushing the life out of the boy through his innards.
The captain seemed to be trying to muffle his moans somewhat, squeezing the pungent fabric against Shoyo’s nose and mouth, but his moans were throaty, from deep inside his belly, they echoed through the room as Shoyo trembled and drooled like a desperate whore.
“Fuck, you’re too loud, Hinata,” Sawamura gritted out, but the boy could hear the smile in his voice, pressed flush against Shoyo’s neck. “You want people finding out? Walking in on you?”
It was phrased like a genuine question, even though Shoyo was pretty sure it should’ve been rhetorical, a concealed scolding.
Did he?
Did Shoyo want people walking in on the captain fucking him raw while holding dirty clothes to his face?
What would they do, then? Judge him, probably. The filthy, disgusting, perverted first year, cock hungry and sweat obsessed, moaning like a bitch in heat, begging for more… for harder, for faster, please, god, fuck…
Shoyo felt like his brain was leaking out his ears. Every thought was sluggish, and his body was kept from collapsing out of sheer willpower—as well as Sawamura’s grip, and his body, and his cock, sliding in and out and stuffing Shoyo full, pushing against his gut over and over again. A stray thought made the kid lower one of his hands, place it over his lower abdomen, and if Shoyo wasn’t fucked stupid before, the feeling of Sawamura’s cock bulging over and over through his guts, hammering against his palm, melted the last remnants of his brain.
The captain’s voice echoed in his listless head, moans and groans, curses slipping past lips that always seemed gentle enough to be fatherly, now calling for Shoyo’s name like he was praying.
It was still nothing on the kid’s own prayers, the ceaseless begging and harder, deeper, please, please that dripped out alongside a disgusting amount of drool.
Shoyo felt the hand holding the shorts over his face moving and panicked for a moment. That was the whole point of it, right? The sweat, the filth, if he couldn’t suck on Sawamura’s sticky shorts while the man fucked him, he would… what? Stop him?
God, it was so hard to string two thoughts together that weren’t more and deeper. His cock was hard again, bobbing uselessly between his shaky legs, but Shoyo didn’t even consider touching himself.
“Sorry, it’s… a lot… getting kinda tired in this position…” Sawamura chuckled, placing both hands on the wall before them.
Shoyo stared listlessly at the large, veiny hands spread over the concrete, his little holy grail crumpled underneath one of the palms that caged him. Sawamura kissed at his neck, cursing softly under his breath, hips snapping so hard against Shoyo’s ass the kid had to hold onto the captain’s arms to keep himself up, like thick handlebars.
Thick, soft, moist under his fingertips. Shoyo pressed back against Sawamura, turning his head to take in more of the man’s sweat, the pungent smell of his armpits and neck wafting off with each thrust, clouding Shoyo’s head and making him drool.
“Your ar—ahn… arm… your arm…”
“Sorry?”
“Here, please… ah…”
He tugged, pulled Sawamura’s arm closer, twisting his head to shove his nose under the captain’s armpit. He took a deep, languid, desperate breath, moans turning to broken sobs as Shoyo huffed and licked at the wet, hot skin before him.
“Jesus, Hinata…” Sawamura chuckled, almost hysterical. “That’s disgusting…”
Shoyo hummed, high pitched and long behind a dumb smile.
Maybe, yeah. But Sawamura wasn’t stopping him.
The kid was going to kill him.
Daichi was sure of it, he was about to die in this room, heart attack or heatstroke, something ugly, tragic, and awfully embarrassing.
But if he was going to die inside Hinata like this, he supposed it would be fine.
The kid was so tight and warm it was unbelievable, Daichi felt like he was fucking a damn fleshlight. It made him dizzy, stupid, made him laugh and tease rather than freaking out when Hinata buried his face in the man’s armpits like a fucking pervert.
But the boy looked so relaxed, so happy that Daichi almost felt guilty for calling him disgusting. He did give Hinata permission to do whatever he wanted, right?
So he fucked Hinata, deep and hard, just the way he was begging for, and chuckled softly as he watched the kid craning that tiny little neck to bury his head in Daichi’s armpit, licking and huffing like he was made of candy.
But fuck, being that endlessly worshipped did something to a man.
He felt the heat pooling in his gut, felt Hinata’s ass getting tighter, hotter, felt his own body shaking and dripping with exertion. God.
“Hinata, fuck—” he groaned, deep and animalistic. “I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?”
“Aaahn, mhmm… yeah…”
“Can you be a good boy for me and take it?”
“Ye—ah, ah, yes, yes, sir, yes, sir…”
Something in that pretty tone of his made Daichi lose his mind. Hinata was like a dog with a treat—hit him and neglect him all you want, but a whiff of the captain’s sweat and suddenly he would be wagging his tail.
“So fucking good for me, Hinata…”
Daichi kissed the boy’s neck, licked the tender skin trembling underneath him, and chased the orgasm as it hit him hard and sharp, burying himself to the hilt inside the kid. His vision blurred and his body shook, and all he could do was groan loud, wild and guttural as he spilled so deep he wondered if Hinata could taste it.
It took a good few seconds for his head to stop pounding and his eyes to blink out stars. When Daichi came to, Hinata was still in the same position, but the wet squelching noises showed how truly desperate the kid had become.
He stood there, watching mesmerized as Hinata desperately sniffed and licked at his drenched armpit while jerking himself off, Daichi’s cock still softening inside him. When the captain felt the boy twitch and squeeze around him, heard his soft little pants turn into loud, sobbed out moans, he finally pulled out, and then caught the kid before he collapsed on the ground.
“You did a number on yourself, huh?” Daichi snorted, slowly seating Hinata on the bench, taking in the boy’s completely lost expression.
He moved to finally throw the now much filthier shorts in the laundry bag, and then walked back to the bench, meeting the kid half asleep with his shorts still down. Daichi gently slapped Hinata’s cheek.
“Up, up, c’mon, the others can’t see you like this.”
“Mhmm… sorry…”
“You don’t need to apologize, I went overboard. C’mon, arms, I’ll dress you back up,” he said, tapping his own shoulders. Hinata wrapped his shaky little bird wrists around Daichi’s neck, limp as a corpse as the captain lifted him up and pulled the boy’s shorts back over his plump little ass. “Good job, there you go. Can you walk?”
He pulled his own underwear back on while waiting for Hinata’s response, but all he heard was sleepy grumbling over his shoulder. And then he felt drool on it.
Daichi sighed.
He still needed to bathe before bed, and Hinata hadn’t even eaten.
Fine, then. Daichi lifted the boy in his arms, bridal carrying his limp little body into the communal baths.
“A nice bath will wake you right up.”
“Hhhmmmmmm…”
“I need my ultimate decoy in good shape for tomorrow, we’re playing Nekoma.”
“Ah!”
There he was.
“I thought we were playing Fukurodani…”
“Nope, Nekoma.”
“Hmm…” Hinata leaned his head against Daichi’s chest. Eyes closed in a soft kind of comfort. “I get to play against Kenma…”
“Win. You get to win against Kozume.”
The boy’s eyes lit up, and a wide smile spread across his flushed cheeks.
“I get to win against Kenma!!”
“There you go.”
Daichi still felt his underwear sticking to his legs, still felt his sensitive cock softening, and knew Hinata’s legs would probably be failing him for the first time in his life since he learned how to walk. And yet… it was oddly domestic. Tender, even. He felt his jaw clenching with discomfort.
Consequences, consequences…
But Daichi didn’t need to think about that right now. All he needed to think about was helping Hinata wash up and get them both to dinner before the kitchen closed.
And try not to get too attached to the kid curling up in his arms like a nesting bird, burying his head in Daichi’s neck and sighing like the captain’s arms were the most comfortable hammock to lie in.