Chapter Text
There's no reason today should be any different from the usual. Kiyoomi arrives early to take a shower before practice; he likes getting his muscles loose before the practice starts. He takes his time in the shower, like usual, he enjoys the pressure of the MSBY showers more than the one in his own house.
He leaves the shower, passing by Shuugo who always arrives second, like usual, they give each other a nod as he makes his way to his gym bag so he could change. Koutarou and Shouyou come bounding in by the time he's halfway dressed, like usual, loud as always and arriving at the same time since they're roommates. They're already dressed and all, only dipping into the locker room to drop off their bags and say hello.
The only oddity is Atsumu, who still isn't here. He usually arrives close behind Shuugo, being one of the first people in the gym and always the last as well. He can't help but wonder where exactly he may be.
As if on cue, he hears the loud voice from outside of the locker room. "Sorry I'm late!" Atsumu yells. Subconsciously, Kiyoomi let's our a breath, putting his deodorant on and making sure he has everything he needs in his bag.
"Whoo, Tsum-Tsum! Are you sure you can work out in that?" He distinctly hears Koutarou's booming voice yell. He quirks an eyebrow. There's a few whistles from outside the locker room, and he can't help but rush his routine and head out the door.
"It's a tennis skirt, I'm sure it'll be fine." Atsumu muses from beyond the door. Kiyoomi freezes, trying to brace himself for what he thinks he might see but the door is already swinging.
So there is Atsumu standing on the other side of the gym, sporting a black pleated skirt that he prays Atsumu doesn't plan to workout in but he already knows he is, judging by how he's already wearing his sports shoes. His top's decent Kiyoomi supposes, until Atsumu raises his arm and now Kiyoomi has a very clear view of his midriff and the arm holes are cut too low for the top to be considered decent anymore. He really hopes his eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw the tall socks, squeezing around Atsumu's thighs. It doesn't matter if they have those two white stripes at the top, those are not for sports. Kiyoomi won't stand for this.
And suddenly, practice isn't proceeding as per usual anymore.
It's a secret between Motoya and him, only because Motoya is a nosy little shit, that Kiyoomi has a minor "crush" on Atsumu. It started back in their third year of highschool, during nationals.
The only experience Kiyoomi had had with the man was during youth camp their second year. From just that, he could garner that Atsumu was smug, somewhat conceited, and enjoyed getting under people's skin. He hated that the man was so prideful, and hated even more that the confidence wasn't misplaced. Miya Atsumu was, and still is, incredibly skilled.
But he was getting a different view of Atsumu, now, in an official match. Well, it doesn't get more official than nationals, now does it? It was the second set, Itachiyama taking the first set and Inarizaki being 3 points ahead at the moment. Both Atsumu and Kiyoomi were the captains of their teams.
With Kiyoomi being in the back row, and the ball being on the other side of the net, he was watching the Inarizaki boys instead of his own teammates. His eyes made their way to the captain and the setter, at the worst moment possible. Well, the worst moment possible in Kiyoomi's book. He was smiling; not that conniving fox grin from youth camp, or the smug and conceited grin that would silently put you down. It was bright, genuine, almost blinding. And then he laughed, and Kiyoomi would swear time stopped for a second. Of course, it didn't, so it was no one else's fault but his own when a ball was spiked into his face.
And then there was the end of the match when he would shake hands with the team. He always despises it, but complies because he does have manners. And the first hand that he was going to shake was Atsumu's. He made eye contact with the guy for a second, who still had that grin on his face from the win, "Good match, Sakkun!"
Shit, so maybe he's cute when he's not insufferable.
Atsumu adjusts his skirt the entire practice, not sure if he would rather have more of his midriff show or more of his thighs. Both look good. When Kiyoomi had originally walked out of the locker room, Atsumu noticed him quickly. He saw the way Kiyoomi's mouth hung open slightly, eyes wandering up and down Atsumu's figure. It sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine.
Truth be told, the reason he was wearing this outfit was because he lost a bet with Rintarou and Rintarou is either terrible or a genius at giving punishments. When he told Atsumu to dress in feminine clothes for a few days, he failed to see how that was a punishment. Sure, he had to go out of his way to buy more clothes because he doesn't really own that much feminine clothing, but still. There isn't anything wrong with men in feminine clothing, right?
But as it seems Rintarou is a genius, the thigh highs having his thighs look heavenly, the short shorts built into the skirt squeezing his ass just right. He adores the way Kiyoomi's eyes keep wandering to him, a smug grin on his face. He's grateful for the skin safe tape he got, keeping up the thigh highs and the magic of the look.
And as usual, Kiyoomi rushes into the locker room quickly after practice. Though anyone could see, or maybe it was just Atsumu's imagination, he was more frantic. Atsumu finds it cute, but mainly amusing. He skips after him, not staying back and practicing his serves for another 30 or so minutes like he typically does.
"Omi-Omi?"
The man already has his shirt stripped off and shoes next to his bag. He whips his head around to Atsumu, his eyes going dark and looking at Atsumu like he was actual sin.
"Do you need something, Miya?"
He reverted back to Atsumu's last name. That was a win in Atsumu's book, Kiyoomi feeling like he had to put boundaries up before something happens. Too bad for him, Atsumu certainly plans on something happening.
"Ouch Omi-kun, why so cold all of a sudden?" He takes a step forward, closer to the raven. "Even when yer in a bad mood ya call me 'Atsumu', there a problem or somethin'?" Yes. There certainly is a problem, isn't there Kiyoomi?
Kiyoomi squints at him harshly, taking a step back in turn. "Don't come so close to me, you're drenched in sweat. Take a shower, and change. "
The corners of Atsumu's eyes creases, his grin only growing wider. " Well, Omi-kun, I'm actually being a saint and lettin' ya shower first. I know ya don't like showering after people, so hurry up."
Kiyoomi doesn't say anything, but if looks could kill Atsumu would be six feet under. He simply turns sharply and heads for the showers.
"Oh, and Omi?"
He barely pauses to hear what Atsumu has to say.
"Ya already agreed to go to an izakaya with us today, ya can't back out of it."
As he said he would, he waits until Kiyoomi to finish his shower before he goes to take his. Luckily, Kiyoomi is always quick at the end of the day. He hums the entire time, eager to put on the outfit that's waiting in his bag. Tonight is going to be good. He hops out of the shower, having taken his time so a few others were already done. Shouyou took the quickest showers, Koutarou taking the longest. Shouyou's fully dressed by the time he comes out, Shuugo and Shion going through their lockers. Adriah and Oriver already made it clear they wouldn't make it to the izakaya tonight, so they were probably still practicing in the gym. Kiyoomi wasn't in the locker room either, most likely waiting outside because "the locker room reeks and you're all too loud." That was the usual reason.
He dances his way to his locker, pulling out his bag and still humming happily. Shion nudges his side, "Hey, what was with your outfit today? Hinata's and Sakusa's faces were priceless."
Atsumu smiles, fully aware of how far his affect was. "What can I say, I'mma gem." They both snicker, Atsumu unzipping his bag. "But ya know, I think this next outfit is even better."
He pulls out the baby pink, latex garter belt, a fox grin on his face as he looks back at Shion, who's eyes were wide in shock but also excitement. This is why Atsumu could go to Shion about the randomest of shit, the guy was down for anything.
"You're going to give them a heart attack."
He nods his head knowingly, setting the garter belt down and grabbing his underwear first and foremost. As he gets dressed, the outfit starts to come together. The garter belt clips onto the plain white stockings he had, a pastel yellow, pleated miniskirt over them. The cropped white tee was the most basic part of the outfit, but the collar was still cut low enough to show off his collarbone. He looks good and he knows it. Shouyou was spastic literally just watching Atsumu get dressed. When tied the laces of his converse together and stood back up straight, there was a mini applause, including Koutarou who stood naked in front of the showers having just dropped his towel. "You look like cotton candy." Shouyou utters with sparks in his eyes.
"I'm the sweetest ya've ever seen, aren't I?"
When Koutarou throws his clothes on, they head out and text Kiyoomi that they're ready. As soon as Kiyoomi comes back into his perspective, Atsumu can't help but feel giddy. Kiyoomi turns around, ready to sass anyone and everyone because that's what he does most, but the words fall dead in his mouth. His eyes go wide and he stares at Atsumu in something akin to horror. Atsumu loves it.
"Miya, what the fuck are you wearing."
Atsumu plays his best innocent smile, looking down at his outfit then back up at Kiyoomi. "Uh, clothes? Why, 's there a problem?"
Kiyoomi crosses his arms, going into defense mode. "Yes there's a fucking problem. You never wear... that kind of clothing. What are you playing at here?"
Atsumu's attitude falters for a second but he regains his composure, knowing exactly how to break those defenses back down. "I'm not playing at nothin', Omi-kun. What is it, ya got a problem with me wearing feminine clothes? Ya don't think men should wear this kinda shit?" Atsumu snarks, trying his best to look offended but a smile still stretched across his face.
Kiyoomi huffs, "That's not what I mean. It's just…"
"Ah, I get it." Atsumu gleams, knowing he has the upper hand. "Ya just find me that distracting, don't ya? I mean, I saw the way ya were staring at me during the 3v3."
Kiyoomi nearly scowls, ready to say something in such vehement defense that Atsumu is sure it would actually offend him, but Shuugo comes between the two. "Alright guys, you can finish this arguing—or flirting—later, I'm trying to get some alcohol in my system." He pats both of their shoulders, gesturing it was time to get a move on.
Atsumu pouts, then a sudden buzz comes from his phone. When he checks his notifications, seeing a message from Rintarou.
From: Sunarin
Update?
A simple text, one that demanded Atsumu take a picture of himself and send it to Rintarou to prove he was still in his outfit. Shion is happy to oblige in taking the photo.
Atsumu was sure Kiyoomi has a low tolerance with how he never comes with them drinking. No, he wasn't trying to take Kiyoomi to bed with the man not being able to stand properly, but the thought of Atsumu would stay on his mind longer if he was at least a little inebriated. Are the drinks he's getting even alcoholic? Atsumu shakes his head, he's sure Kiyoomi wouldn't get a virgin drink with this many people here. Plus, he doesn't seem as tense as he was when he first walked in almost an hour ago. He looks at the time, nearly 6 o'clock, they'd be leaving soon with barely any progress. Atsumu bites his lip, wondering if he should or shouldn't actually get on his hands and knees and beg—Atsumu is in no way shape or form above begging—Shuugo to go to a bar as well. A small, remote one, while Kiyoomi is slightly intoxicated and more likely to agree.
"Mei-saaaaaann~" He drags, resting his head on his captains shoulder. Shuugo doesn't flinch, looking down at Atsumu like this is the norm. "Let's go to that one bar, the one with the big owl on it."
"Oohh, I love that one! Let's go, Shuugo-san!" Koutarou was on board as quickly as ever, which subsequently meant Shouyou was on board. He knows Koutarou is only really fond of the place because of the big owl logo, the man having more of a liking towards large rowdy ones.
"Oh, are we going? Let me finish my ramen first." Shion chirps, his mouth half full of food and already on board. Just as Shuugo prepares to protest, Koutarou and Atsumu both wrap their arms around him.
"Mei-saaaaaan!"
"Shuugo-saaaaan!"
He huffs, dropping his head to the table. "Fine. But you have to ask Kiyoomi to come as well."
Atsumu beams, turning to his side ready to work some charms and get Kiyoomi to agree, but is instead pleasantly surprised.
"I'll come." He says before Atsumu, or anyone, could even ask. Atsumu pauses, faintly hearing Shuugo groan something about Kiyoomi being his last hope. His eyes are too busy locked with Kiyoomi's to pay attention to anything else. His cheeks don't have any more color than they usually do, nor his ears or his neck. He seems composed as ever, yet he complied so easily. His eyes also go down Atsumu, taking a sip of his drink. Atsumu's eyes train onto his mouth, the bob of his throat. He sees him lick his lips after placing his drink down. Atsumu's getting riled up, and nothing's even happened. Yet. It'll definitely be a yet by the end of all this.
Atsumu slowly sips on his drink at The Owl's Nest, that was the actual name, eyes wandering over to the dancefloor. To Shion who's arms already found themselves wrapped around someone else's waist. To Shuugo who's turned down three women and two men already since he's married. To Koutarou and Shouyou who are having a drinking competition since there's no practice tomorrow. He silently prays for Koutarou, hoping he doesn't wake up in a ditch since Shouyou drinks everyone under the table. Curse brazilians and their stupid high tolerance, and for passing it onto Shouyou.
Of course, they also grace Kiyoomi. Multiple times. It's hard not to when he's sitting directly in front of Atsumu. The man barely even looks at him, always staring down at his phone. Atsumu groans, disappointed he got his hopes up when Kiyoomi so easily agreed.
He pushes himself out of the booth, glad he decided against the pumps because the alcohol rushed through his system as soon as his feet hit the ground. "Uh, I'm gonna be on the dance floor, ya know, living." He bent down, tightening his lace quickly. "If ya really don't wanna be here, it's cool if ya leave. No one's forcin' ya t'be here. But if ya just like watchin' or somethin' then I guess that's cool." He clears his throat, his energy from before deflating. When there's no response, he huffs, pushing past Shion who gives him a whistle as he mingles his way through.
He isn't dancing by himself for very long, someone coming up behind them and gently laying a hand on his waist. "May I?" Ah, so he has manners. Atsumu throws his head over his shoulder, tilting his head up slightly to see who it was. The guy's attractive, and nice, that's already a headstart on Kiyoomi, so he decides what the hell. He gives him a nod, turning his head back ahead of him and tracing the man's hands over his waist.
"Can I get a name?"
"Kindaichi Yuutarou."
"Oh, we're doin' full names?" Atsumu chuckled, turning his head slightly.
"Miya Atsumu." He smiles, pushing his hips back. The guy blushes slightly, only his ears turning red.
"Oh, I didn't–I didn't think you were actually him, just looked similar."
Oh, great. Atsumu moans sarcastically in his head, directing his attention back forward. "Are ya a fan?" He asks, preparing to push away, give an autograph and find a different partner. It isn't often he gets called out in public, but he still hates the attention. He's also paranoid the guy might get a bit too handsy.
"Well, kinda. I'm a middle blocker for the Tamaden Elephants. The division 2 team." He says calmly, a nervous grin on his face. Atsumu's eyebrows raise in surprise, a pleasant surprise, and he laughs.
"Well damn, Kin-kun, it's nice ta meet ya. What brings ya here today?" His shoulders relax and he doesn't mind leaning into the man's touch.
"If we're being completely honest, I'm here with a friend."
"Ah, cool-"
"He's my ex."
"Oh, shit."
Yuutarou laughs, throwing his head back. "I'm not sure if it's working, but I'm trying to make him jealous. We're high school sweethearts and I wasn't ready to break up." He sighs, almost defeated. Atsumu hums,
"Yer a petty shit, aren't ya?
"Oh, definitely. I don't want to accept he's not the love of my life. Not yet, anyways." Atsumu nods his head. He can kind of understand, well, not really. Kiyoomi isn't the love of his life, but he's definitely a target he doesn't want to give up just yet.
"Well, since we're spilling everything here right now, I was also trying ta get someone's attention tonight." He guides one of Yuutarou's hands to his hip, the other higher up his waist and onto his torso, daringly almost up the cropped white tee. "Ya wanna put on a show?"
He recognises the way the grip on his hip tightens, the almost shaky breath Yuutarou let's out. "Is it bad that I really want to?"
Atsumu doesn't miss a beat, gyrating his hips and walking around Yuutarou like he was a pole. As he circles him, his eyes go back to the table, fully expecting Kiyoomi to be gone. What he wasn't expecting was for the man to be drilling holes into Atsumu with his eyes. The shock is subliminal, quickly covered in satisfaction. When he's back in front of Yuutarou's, he's compelled to do a slut drop against the man. And well, Atsumu rarely ignores his urges.
From the moment he starts to drop to when he comes back up, his eyes are on Kiyoomi. He sees the way Kiyoomi clenches his fist, a small victory. He quickly places Yuutarou's hands back on him, the man not taking the initiative himself. He brings his hand up to tangle in Yuutarou's hair, burying his head in the crook of Atsumu's neck. There's no words between the two, both lost in the dance, Atsumu also lost in Kiyoomi's swirling eyes. He doesn't expect the hand that runs across his bare chest, fingertips resting on his collarbone. His eyes almost flutter shut, a shudder running through him as his grip in Yuutarou's hair tightens. He imagines it was Kiyoomi's hand.
"Too much?"
"You're doing perfectly."
Yuutarou takes that as a go ahead, grinding his hips into Atsumu who moans quietly. "So, ya wanna take control now? Be my guest I suppose." He feels Yuutarou smile into his shoulder, obviously pleased with himself. Little fucker.
"Ah, actually." Atsumu turns around, one hand resting on Yuutarou's shoulder and the other digging into the pocket of his skirt. That's right. It has pockets. He pulls out a sharpie, biting on the tip and pulling the lid off.
"Why do you have that in your pocket?"
Atsumu shrugs, "Always come prepared to a bar." He pressed a thumb to his collarbone, like he was holding a piece of paper still, writing down a series of numbers. "That's my actual number. To make it more believable. Also, if things go south on both ends, give me a call." He winks, sliding the cap back on and into his pocket.
He walks around Yuutarou again, the man keeping a hand on his waist this time, eyes following Kiyoomi yet again. His leg is shaking up and down. A fox grin spreads on his face, in front of Yuutarou yet again. He bends forward, keeping his legs straight and brushing his fingertips against the hardwood floor and started shaking his ass, a talent he knew would come in handy one day. It wasn't like this was the first time it did, actually.
"Oh, wow…" he vaguely hears Yuutarou gasps, the man's grip on his hips becoming more rough. Little boosts of confidence was all Atsumu needed to keep pressing onward. The only disadvantage was that he can't see Kiyoomi's reaction, but he knows that it's golden. He feels fingers slide under the garter belt, completely amused that Yuutarou's keeping up with him. He swings back up, turning back around and resting both of his arms on Yuutarou's shoulders.
The man's hand dips even lower, sliding over Atsumu's ass and over the back of his thigh before he brings it up. Atsumu surges forward, foreheads almost touching, grins on both of their faces. He could really kiss this dude right now, and he's sure he'd actually enjoy it.
At least, he's sure they were about to, until a hand comes down on his shoulder tugging him backwards. "Sorry, he's drunk." Ah, the sharp, quick, deep voice.
Atsumu giggles, "Bye Yuu-kun! Make sure ta call me?" He holds his hand up to his ear, waving a phone signal as he gets tugged back to his spot. He sees someone with dark, black as blue hair tug on Yuutarou's arm.
"Yuu-kun?! What the fuck, Kindaichi."
"Oh sorry, do you have a problem with me dancing with other people?"
Yikes, they're both petty, aren't they? Atsumu hopes Yuutarou does text him, he needs to know how they go down. But that's an afterthought for the time being, currently he's walking on clouds as Kiyoomi drags him back to the booth.
"You're drunk, and he was getting really handsy with you. You should be more careful."
Atsumu pauses, sitting in front of Kiyoomi once again in the booth. It takes a moment for that all to process, and when it does he almost explodes. "Hah?! What the fuck, Omi. I know howta take care of myself." He crosses his arms over his chest, knitting his eyebrows together. Kiyoomi only grumbles, stirring his drink.
"I had two soft drinks at the izakaya and one drink here, that I drank pretty fuckin' slowly. Ya know I have a higher tolerance than that, and I was enjoyin' myself." He got out of the booth, instead standing next to Kiyoomi who won't look at him. "Why did ya actually drag me back here. I know it wasn't because ya were being a decent fuckin' person fer once in yer life."
Kiyoomi snaps his head back to Atsumu, a nasty look on his face. It deflates as he opens his mouth, taking back whatever it was he was about to say. He bites his tongue, looking back down at his drink.
"...What, were ya jealous?" Atsumu holds back the teasing tone that was about to come out, quite easily because he's actually pretty angry. Kiyoomi doesn't respond.
"Did'ya actually wanna dance?" He places a hand on Kiyoomi's wrist, giving him a slight tug.
"I didn't say that."
"Ya didn't need'ta. Omi, yer really easy ta read sometimes." He pulls him up and out of his seat, hands on both wrists as he walks backward into the crowd yet again.
"Wait, Atsumu–"
"Oh, so we're back ta Atsumu? Well good, it's about time. An' don't worry 'bout it. I'm happy ya want to."
Kiyoomi's throat bobs, Atsumu's eyes not losing track of anything. He smiles, after being on the dance floor once again turns around. He sways his hips slowly, waiting for Kiyoomi's hands to come down but they only ever hover on him, never actually touching him. He pouts, "'S somethin' wrong?"
Kiyoomi drops his head on Atsumu's shoulder almost immediately, releasing a heavy sigh. "I've never done this with a man before." He admits, hands still not touching Atsumu's waist or hips. Atsumu awes, patting Kiyoomi's hand understandingly.
"Wait, then did'ya only get jealous 'cause of the way I'm dressed? If I wore what I usually wore would'ya act the same?"
"I…I don't know. Believe it or not, but I've always known you were attractive, I just ignored it. Your stupid outfits today were just a catalyst of me actually caring."
Atsumu finds himself relieved, releasing a breath. He presses Kiyoomi's hands onto his hips, rubbing circles on his knuckles. "It's okay, Omi, it's just dancin' like normal. If ya want me to lead, I will."
Kiyoomi nods, eyes shutting as he pushes his forehead down against the back of Atsumu's head. "If you could lead for the rest of the night, that'll be great."
Atsumu turns his head slightly, getting a better view of Kiyoomi's face. "Alright." He nearly whispers, bringing one hand up and burying Kiyoomi's face in the crook of his neck like he did with Yuutarou. Only this time it felt even warmer. He releases a satisfied sigh, feeling Kiyoomi take a deep breath. "Grab my hips like ya mean it."
If the breath on the back of his neck is anything to go off of, Kiyoomi is getting into it. The squeeze around his hips feels good, Atsumu biting his lip to make sure no moans like when Yuutarou grinded into him escapes. He swings his hips around, grabbing one of Kiyoomi's hands. "I like havin' a hand on my chest." Is all he says as he drags Kiyoomi's hand under his shirt, across his nipple and to his collarbone. "Just like this." He groans, swiveling his hips all that much faster. Kiyoomi's grip on his hip is lethal, and Atsumu's addicted.
Testing his waters, he pushes up against Kiyoomi, his back entirely flush against the man's chest, his behind to the raven's crotch. There's a sharp intake of breath, but no protests. "I need'ya ta tell me, what'dya need me t'do fer ya Omi." He murmurs into the man's ear, seeing his cheeks and ear flush.
Kiyoomi near close mewls, his eyes still shut, "Do whatever. If you think I'll like it, then do it."
Atsumu twirls his fingers in Kiyoomi's curls, a grin blooming on his face. "You betcha, Omi-kun."
It doesn't take long until Atsumu's normal hip sways become more aggressive, pressing his lower half into Kiyoomi's crotch. The little whines the man releases are the perfect fuel, Atsumu bending himself forward as he did for Yuutarou. Before he steadies himself properly with one hand brushing the ground, he grabs both of Kiyoomi's hands and places them on his thighs and hips. "Keep 'em there." He demands.
Kiyoomi groans but still complies, gripping bruises into Atsumu's thighs. Atsumu huffs, rolling his hips against the growing bulge in Kiyoomi's shorts. "Yer really enjoyin' this shit, aren't ya?"
Kiyoomi doesn't respond, biting his lip as Atsumu crashes his hips into Kiyoomi's hardening erection yet again. "Omi, answer."
"Fuck, yes. I like it." He very much so whines, focusing on keeping his hands on Atsumu's hips and not straying from their post.
Atsumu hums, coming back up and turning around, his body still pressed against Kiyoomi's only now chest to chest. "Good, 'cause ya better." His hands roam down the man's chest, squeezing the sides of his pecks. Starting at the collar, he slowly forces his hand down, snapping the buttons off. One, two, three buttons undone. The entire time his hand goes down, so does his body, slowly going into another slut drop. He makes it to the last button, his face promptly being directly in front of Kiyoomi's hard erection. He knows Kiyoomi can feel his breath through his pants, the heat lingering. Atsumu smiles, coming back up running his fingers across Kiyoomi's now bare chest. "Do ya want me t'blow you?" He queries, grinding his own body up against the raven's. He doesn't answer him, but his eyes are clouded in that lust. Atsumu muses, "Or do ya want me ta ride ya? I'll ride ya into the fuckin' sunset, Kiyoomi."
Kiyoomi snaps, hands running down to Atsumu's thighs and pulling one up the same way Yuutarou did. Atsumu's body rolls against him, both of their hard-ons finally getting to say hi to one another. Atsumu shivers. He wraps both his arms around Kiyoomi's neck and raises his other leg, boosting himself up and putting all his weight onto the man. Kiyoomi's hands don't hesitate to wander under the skirt, giving Atsumu's ass a firm squeeze and a tug on the garter belt. "Or I could ride ya right here, let everyone see who's in charge right now." He sings into his ear, shifting himself on top of Kiyoomi's crotch which must be painfully hard by now.
Kiyoomi brings a hand up and pushes on Atsumu's shoulder, a hungry and pained look in his eyes. "Everything." He breathes out, his voice low. "Not just whatever. Give me everything, please."
Atsumu can't stop himself from crashing his lips onto Kiyoomi's, the man under his movements seeming desperate. Atsumu grinds down, forcing a moan from Kiyoomi's mouth and places his thumb on his lips. He swears once he puts his tongue on his bottom lip he hears Kiyoomi whimper, and even if that's not true, that's the story he's sticking with. Kiyoomi opens his mouth, eager, and who is Atsumu not to oblige, pushing his wet tongue into the depths of the younger man's mouth. He pulls away, his every touch causing different parts of Kiyoomi to melt. Atsumu laughs, a hand cradling Kiyoomi's face as he stares into him. "Of course, Omi-kun. Whatever ya want."
The kiss back at the bar was too rushed, too desperate. When they get into the barren elevator leading up to Atsumu's place, he's on top of the taller man once again. He grabs his collar, pushing him up against the wall of the small room, his breath hovering over Kiyoomi's. Despite the rough start, he places chaste kisses on his lips, feeling Kiyoomi's defenses come down. He smiles into the kiss, his hands pressed on Kiyoomi's chest while said man had his hands tangled in Atsumu's hair and around his neck, like if he let go he would just sink. With the ding of the elevator Atsumu pushes away, recomposing himself in seconds. Meanwhile Kiyoomi stumbles back, gripping onto the bar to steady his shaky feet.
"Atsu–"
"Shhh, c'mon Omi-kun…" He guides Kiyoomi out of the elevator, down the hall leading to his place. Besides the rugged breathing, they're both silent the entire time. Atsumu purposefulls swings his hips as he walks, making sure his skirt bounces some with every step. Partially to make sure Kiyoomi doesn't forget why he's here, but also because he's found that he really enjoys being in a skirt.
The door opens, both of them stepping in and kicking their shoes off. Atsumu places a quick peck on Kiyoomi's lips, patting his chest. "Unless ya gotta pee or something, my room is down the hall on the left. I'll be in there in a minute."
Kiyoomi nods, Atsumu humming happily down into the restroom. Behind the door he hears a few footsteps heading to his room. He sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror, not having seen himself since in the locker room. Now, the sun is down, pink dusting his cheeks. He purses his lips, running fingers through his hair. He sees the way his chest heaves, his hands having the slightest tremble. He's excited, but also...nervous? He shakes his head, trying to brush off the feeling. He unclips the stockings from the garter belt, sliding down his underwear and nothing but. The outfit was a catalyst to Kiyoomi actually caring, was it? Well, he certainly isn't going to give up that advantage.
The cool air of the city and the walk back to his room has given him enough time to calm down, his boner no longer raging and more concealed under his skirt even with his boxers off. He vaguely thinks how Kiyoomi would react if he had lingerie on, but that's a thought for another time.
He bounds out of the restroom, down the hall and in front of his room. The door was shut. As he brought his hand up to the knob, that same tremble came back. He pouts, not understanding his own emotional state. This isn't the first time he's had a one night stand, including someone he knew on a more familiar level. He slept with Hitoshi, and they're still friends till now. There was building sexual tension between Tobio and him and they fucked it out, still competitive as ever. This shouldn't be any different. It's just a one night stand, right?
...Right?
He turns the knob, the door creaking open. Kiyoomi sits on his bed, twiddling his fingers, his shoulders jerking as the door opens. The doubts in his head disperse for the moment, the hunger from before resurfacing. He just has to have him, now preferably.
In mere seconds he's crawling into the bed and on top of Kiyoomi, trying to straddle his lap. He knows he just pounced Kiyoomi like a bitch in heat, but that was inevitable with Kiyoomi just waiting obediently for Atsumu to return. He pushes Kiyoomi's back down against the mound of pillows with one hand, his hand trailing down his chest. Kiyoomi mewls, Atsumu's hands sliding the button down off of Kiyoomi's shoulders and grazing over his hardening nipples.
"Wait, Atsumu, hold up."
Atsumu's wretches his hands back like he was burned, bringing them up to his sides. He waits.
Kiyoomi huffs, "Just...give me a minute. Please."
Atsumu nods, sitting back on Kiyoomi's thighs rather than his torso or crotch. "D'ya want a safe word? Or uh, the traffic light system?"
Kiyoomi gives him a curious look, Atsumu slowly explaining both of those to him. It doesn't matter if this is his first time with a guy, he obviously doesn't sleep around or date much if he didn't know what those were. It seems off, Kiyoomi being the type to be very cautious about almost everything, but Atsumu still explains calmly.
"The traffic light one seems suitable for right now. Is that good?" Kiyoomi asks, dazed and his eyes cloudy. His hands reach to rest on Atsumu's thighs, who smiles.
"'Course, Omi-kun. I already said whatever ya want." He dips his hands into the waistband of Kiyoomi's jeans, his boner pressing painfully so against Atsumu's fingers. He shivers, Atsumu delighted as he undoes the button of the jeans. With one hand venturing into Kiyoomi's jeans, palming him through his underwear, the other digs through the bedside table blindly, looking for that small bottle.
When he grabs it he tosses it to the side of the bed, sliding up onto Kiyoomi's torso and turning around. He ushers Kiyoomi to raise his hips and pushes his pants down to his knees. His hand outlines the shape of Kiyoomi's cock, dipping his thumb in and out of the band. Atsumu can't help being a tease, pressing his index finger to the hard tip through the cloth. Kiyoomi instantaneously shudders, hands flying up to Atsumu's hips. He watches in amazement as the light grey underwear darkens, precum leaking from the tip. "Yer really raring ta go, aren'tya?" He giggles, finger going in circles on the now wet cloth.
"Atsumu, please ."
Atsumu grins in satisfaction, having drawn such a desperate noise from Kiyoomi's mouth. "Well, since ya asked so nicely." He pushes Kiyoomi's underwear down, freeing his leaking cock. Kiyoomi hisses, the cold air hitting him harshly.
Atsumu's hand works quickly, wrapping around the base of Kiyoomi's thick cock with three fingers. He works up the shaft slowly, gathering all of the precum to the tip and gives a slight squeeze. Kiyoomi's grip on his sides tighten, convulsing at the gesture. Atsumu grabs the bottle of lube discarded a few moments ago, popping open the cap and squeezing some into his free hand, all while still giving Kiyoomi those small pleasures. He does this pretty often. He lifts his ass up and backs up further, his mouth getting dangerously close to Kiyoomi's needy erection.
He hears Kiyoomi gasps, smiling knowing the raven saw the absence of underwear. "Ya like whatcha see? Or is it too much right now?"
"I like it." He responds quickly, hands trailing back up. Atsumu hums in contentment, wiggling his hips.
"No touching though." He reminds, his lubed up fingers going under him and reaching for his aching hole. "Ya can look, don't touch. Green?"
Kiyoomi hums, "Green." He says it dreamily, entranced by the fingers Atsumu teases himself with. A single finger sinks in, and Kiyoomi bites his lip.
Atsumu leans forward, letting his lips touch the tip of Kiyoomi's cock. When he doesn't protest, he slides his tongue out and down. The precum that he had gathered at the tip had slid back down, more pulsing out as well. He gathers it with his tongue instead this time, sucking on the tip gently when he comes back up. His other hand traces all the places his tongue doesn't touch, giving an adorning amount of attention to Kiyoomi's balls. He kneads with his fingers on both ends, for Kiyoomi's cock and his loosening hole. The noises spilling out of the stern Kiyoomi are so gratifying he doesn't stop for a second. By the time he has three fingers comfortably pumping in and out of himself Kiyoomi is already putty in his hands, his chest heaving hard and hands not knowing where they should be so they clench around the sheets like he's holding on for dear life.
Atsumu, entirely delighted, raises his posture and slides himself back down onto Kiyoomi's thighs. He turns around, eager to see Kiyoomi's expression. He isn't disappointed, a deprived look on his face and his mouth hanging open, heavy and hot huffs coming out as he tries to steady himself. The discreet pink from before a raging crimson now, his knuckles white.
When he says he's still green, Atsumu isn't sure how he's supposed to keep his composure.
He reaches over to grab a condom from the drawer, tearing it open with his teeth. He puts it on Kiyoomi with his mouth, deepthroating him with ease. He hums, sending vibrations throughout Kiyoomi's entire body and he honest to god thought he came right there, his back arching off of the bed. Atsumu comes back up with a pop, quite pleased with his work. He lathers a good amount of lube onto Kiyoomi's fat cock, his breathing picking up as he lets himself imagine what it would be like inside him.
He longs at Kiyoomi's little fella a little longer, having to admit that it's built perfectly, curve and all. A single finger follows that curve up to the tip, tempted to give it a flick. "Atsu, please, you've done enough teasing." Kiyoomi's begging rips him from his thoughts, eyes going up to his needy expression, his eyes glazed over in straight desire.
Atsumu grins, raising his hips and lining himself up with the tip of Kiyoomi. "Ya want me that bad, Omi? Yer gonna beg fer it?"
Kiyoomi doesn't respond, staring to at where their bodies are very meekly connected. Atsumu gets an idea, a wicked idea that'll turn Kiyoomi into a writhing mess under him, and that's just perfect. He eases the tip in, enjoying the fresh burn. Kiyoomi's hands jerk where they are on the sheet, breathing heavily through his nose and watching intently.
Atsumu doesn't give him anymore than that, rising back up and hears the telltale wet pop as he comes out fully. Kiyoomi's eyes go wide as he full on whimpers, stuttering out a string of unintelligible protests. "'Tsumu, 'Tsumu please don't do this to me right now." He cries, one hand leaving the sheet but not touching Atsumu.
"Oh, I don't know…" He sings, sinking on the tip again. "What'dya want me to do?" He gyrates his hips around in circles, Kiyoomi sucking in a breath like he was stung. "Should I ride ya like my life depends on it? But right now, it's more like you depend on it huh?"
Kiyoomi quivers, his hips jerking up the slightest bit. "Ah ah ah, Omi-kun…" He rests his hand on Kiyoomi's torso, like a pet. "Behave."
He nods, eyes fluttering shut. Kiyoomi smiles in triumph, sitting back up. "Now, tell me what ya need."
He waits, the sting no longer being apparent around his rim. Kiyoomi pules "I need you to move, please 'Tsumu. I want to come with you riding me."
Atsumu leans down and places a kiss on his forehead. "'Course Omi-kun, ya should've jus' said so." He asserts, lowering himself fully onto Kiyoomi's hard cock. There's a pleased moan from the both of them, Kiyoomi's hands resting on his sides yet again. Atsumu repeats the action, going all the way to the tip and dropping back down leisurely. Kiyoomi grunts with nearly every single one, the whimpers from before getting deeper.
"You're so pretty." Atsumu's caught off guard by the comment, his hips stuttering.
His lips curve upward, titling his head, "Aw, how sweet of ya Omi-Omi." He pushes his hips down, putting all of his weight onto Kiyoomi's dick and his lap. "But ya know, I'm still a guy. The skirt doesn't change anything." He remarks, lifting up the skirt and showing off his leaking and red cock, stimulated by the material of the skirt dragging against it. What he wasn't expecting was for Kiyoomi's cock to jump at the sight, feeling the slight twitch deep inside him. "Oh." Is all he says, his cheeks flushing.
Atsumu's phone buzzes for the third time on the bedside table, and he actually grabs it this time with a groan of annoyance, but also needing a moment to recompose himself. As he reads it, he sees three messages from Rintarou.
08:32pm
From: Sunarin
Update?
08:45
From: Sunarin
Hey update? Ya better not have backed out.
08:56
From: Sunarin
If ya don't answer I'm gonna give ya another punishment. I won't be nice this time.
Atsumu rolls his eyes reading the message, then a brilliant idea crosses his mind. "Hey, Omi, put yer hands on my thighs." The man is quick to oblige. Atsumu whips out the camera, covering himself up again with the skirt. He makes sure to capture his thighs straddling Kiyoomi and the hand on his thighs, the lower half of his muscular torso as well. There's a camera shutter, but no flash. Kiyoomi looks at him quizzically, and Atsumu chuckles.
"Sunarin's botherin' me fer an update, so I'm giving 'im one." He shows the image to Kiyoomi, and when he hears no opposition he hits send. He snickers thinking about how he might respond later, then sets his hand back down.
"Get yer hands off me now. Still green?"
Kiyoomi nods, mumbling "green" and wraps his hands back around the pillow. Atsumu doesn't hesitate again, lifting his hips and drops down quicker than he did before. Kiyoomi gasps, a wretched groan falling out of him as Atsumu does it again, starting a lethal pace.
"Ya like it, don't ya?"
Kiyoomi nods wordlessly, a whimper coming next as skin hits skin and the noise fills the air. Atsumu finally starts to let out some of his own moans which only stir Kiyoomi on further. With one hand he roams up his shirt, groping on his own pecs, the other goes down to Kiyoomi's chest, pressing one of his nipples between two of his fingers. Kiyoomi trembles, those moans that have been building up becoming more and more desperate.
"Atsumu, gonna, 'm gonna—"
"Cum? Ya gonna cum fer me baby?" Kiyoomi nods aggressively, an almost pained expression painted on his face. Atsumu moans, knowing Kiyoomi likes the noises he makes, and leans forward, his torso leaning against Kiyoomi's so he could move his hips faster.
Kiyoomi shivers, feeling that familiar shock running down him and the heat in his abdomen beginning to overflow. "I'm cumming, Atsu." He groans, Atsumu placing a wet and sloppy smooch on his forehead.
"Yeah yeah, I gotcha baby. Cum fer me?" And Kiyoomi does, pretty much on command. Atsumu rubs circles into his shoulders, easing him through possibly the most aggressive orgasm he's had his entire life. Atsumu still circles his hips on Kiyoomi's softening cock.
"Touch m'. Omi, touch me. Now." That's the neediest Atsumu sounded the entire night, and he was still demanding. Kiyoomi complies quickly, pulling one hand out from behind the pillow and wraps around the still red and angry erection, precum leaking nonstop. He pumps once, twice, before Atsumu angles his head up to his face, kissing him roughly. Atsumu takes control there, Kiyoomi focusing on his hand. His tongue slides in with no protest, exploring Kiyoomi's mouth like he was starved, sucking him in. His hips ground into Kiyoomi's lap yet again, moaning into his mouth. He comes roughly, the quiet moan of "Omi" being heard very faint, and his legs shaking as he pulls away from Kiyoomi. The string of saliva connecting them is evident until Atsumu licks his lips, raising his hips and letting Kiyoomi's limp dick fall out of him.
He flops down besides Kiyoomi, sighing in gratification as he stretches his arms. "So, Omi? How was yer first time with a guy?"
Kiyoomi hums, turning his body towards him. Giving Atsumu a once-over, up and down, he smiles. "It was fucking amazing."
Atsumu laughs, bringing his hand up subconsciously and running it through Kiyoomi's curls. He doesn't protest, his eyes closing and relishing in the feeling. Atsumu smiles, "Ya want some tea? I've got like, a lotta basic bitch stuff, but it's still tea."
Kiyoomi chuckles, making actual eye contact with Atsumu for the first time in a while, both clear headed. "Yeah, I would like some."
Atsumu's stands up, his feet only slightly unsteady as he wobbles his way over to the bedroom door. He calls for Kiyoomi roughly ten minutes later, also grabbing the onigiri that was in the fridge. And Kiyoomi comes out, bundled in a blanket and jeans pulled back up, shirt discarded. He has a blissed out look on his face as he waddles into the dining room, Atsumu holding back a chuckle as he sees his expression. "Ya comfy there Omi?" He nods, sitting down and pulls his hand out from the abyss of the blanket to to grab the mug and take a sip.
Atsumu smiles fondly, before he looks down at his own soiled outfit. "I'mma go take a shower, I'll be quick though. Ya wanna take one after me?"
Kiyoomi nods.
"...Ya wanna spend the night?"
He nods again.
Atsumu lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, walking down the hallway. "I'll give ya some pajamas when I'm done, 'kay?" He doesn't wait for an answer as he closes the door to the restroom, looking at himself in the mirror. And the epiphany finally comes.
He wouldn't mind doing this another time.