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Speeding Up From Now On

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They had started calling each other by their first name more and more now since that fateful evening at the Kuroo household, where Kei met Tetsurou’s siblings for the first time. The man’s sister had pressured her brother in giving away Kei’s personal information—his social media information (which he had been forced into making years ago by his family to keep in touch) and his cellphone number. It was that moment that really sparked Kei to start calling Tetsurou by his name (or even shorter form when he didn’t feel like pronouncing all the syllables) now that he had another Kuroo in his contact information.

And the woman bothered him daily. Maybe it was just a Kuroo thing—it explains why he found the check in’s and conversations endearing enough to reply to constantly. But it had happened; no point pulling hair out because of Tetsurou’s older sister felt the need to share stories of Tetsurou’s childhood—which Kei hadn’t known of. It was also refreshing to have the woman not pry into his own life other than ask the basics that first day—age, what school he was going to, how that was going, if he did anything else besides volleyball.

The mundane felt lacking with pressure that had surrounded the Kuroo family during that meal, the fact that Kei didn’t have to answer or reply hung over him. It eased the tension as he’d slip the device from his pocket and check which person was texting him—to think that he had a handful of people now who texted regularly when at the beginning of his high school career he only had his family and Yamaguchi.

Thirty minutes…

He noticed the time, stomach rolling as he pulled his blinds open to peek out to the street below. He had thirty minutes before Tetsurou was to arrive, the man insisting that he’ll make his way to Kei’s place on his own. “I know the way like I grew up there my whole life~ And when in doubt I’ll just follow your lovely scent all the way to my beloved!” His words sent a new way of embarrassment through his cheeks; Tetsurou was a sap. No matter how often he’d sprout it, shower the blond in praise and adoration, Kei would never get used to it. No matter how hard he struggled.

He fell back to his bed with a sigh, ignoring his own duties of being a competent host and playing nice with the Tanakas as they did whatever it is that they do downstairs with Kei’s Mother and Father. They were cooking for a lot more people than they had original expected. At first it was just their two boys and their significant others, then younger Tanaka sibling was invited and he was allowed to bring a companion, and suddenly (Kei might blame a fit of being drunk still on the thoughts of Tetsurou promising a forever with him, for Kei’s mother had cornered him about details as soon as he returned home nearly a month prior, that had him suggest it) both Tetsurou’s roommates were making the trip down and staying the night.

But, for the record, Kei wasn’t positive on wither or not Tanaka had brought someone with him to dinner. Kei had been in the shower when Akiteru and his guests arrived, and once he heard the commotion Kei had ran from bathroom to his room without stopping to breathe. He had sworn to himself that he’d only step out of this room when Tetsurou arrived (with his owl companions in tow).

Fifteen minutes.

He shifted his attention from the wall were his moon and stars themed clock hung. He plucked his new companion from her home beside his pillows, curling up around the cat plushie to close his eyes. Will away the nerves beginning to appear deep within himself. Opening his senses pass the four walls of his bedroom, down the stairs to pick up the voices blending together. Two female voices, his father’s loud laughter ringing out alongside two others, the doorbell ringing.

The doorbell ringing.


He was early. Nearly ten minutes early—shit! Kei launched himself from the bed as Akiteru’s voice carried up the stairs that he intended to get the door—no. Like hell Kei was going to let Akiteru get to the door first when he hadn’t even met Kuroo yet! Akiteru had his habit of adopting that big brother role at the damn-est of times with all the enthusiasm as the volleyball idiots with their volleyball.

His socked clad feet raced down the stairs, sliding on the hardwood as he turned and slipped from lack of traction. The laughter urged him on, made him take hold and steady himself on the wall before launching himself down the remainder of the corridor and slamming his older brother against the front door, winding himself in the process. “I got it,” Kei hissed through his teeth, fingers gripping his brother’s shoulders.

It’s been years since they’ve scrapped, since they pushed and shoved, bit and hissed at each other while fighting in a way siblings were known for. It had been their fun when they were younger, much much younger, but the actions were familiar. He moved on his own, bucking back and slamming the younger Tsukishima to the wall beside the door. “No, I’ve got it,” Akiteru stressed, throwing the door open to smile at the three standing on the cement slab serving as their front step.

Kei reached out, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging him away before he could greet them. “Just go,” he hissed, shouldering him out of the way (again) when he began to attempt to wiggle back into view. “Oh my god, just go back to your girlfriend!” Kei snarled, pushing Akiteru’s face away.

Kei grimaced as his brother returned in full force, throwing the door open and crowding in behind him with his arm wrapped around Kei’s shoulder. Bokuto’s grinning face popped into their personal space, hugging both Tsukishima’s once the door finally remained open. “Tsukki! You’re like a true little brother~” the man’s arms strained, muscles tensing as he lifted both Tsukishima brothers from the flooring and squeezing their breath from them.

“Koutarou,” Akaashi sighed using his bond-mates given name to bring him back to the present, to make note of just whom else he had trapped within his clutches. “You have Tsukishima-san trapped as well,” his partner jerked, ears and cheeks blooming into a soft pink hue as he set the brothers down.

“But I haven’t gotten my hug yet,” the owl-like man pouted, turning to level it to his lover and then his best friend. Kei’s gaze follows his from one man to the other before stilling, widening at the colour of Tetsurou’s face—of the whole half of Tetsurou’s face. It was clearly a bruise, a bad one at that from the yellowing ringed around the light brown and purples.

The man pursed his lips, biting at the corner when Kei pressed a quick welcoming peck to Bokuto’s hair to appease him before pushing him aside as he cooed and sputtered, hooting at Akaashi (He kissed me! Look look! This is the spot right here!). His cool fingers pressed against Tetsurou’s jaw, “did this happen when you—?” He cut himself off; of course this happened when Tetsurou returned home last week to pop in.

He had told Kei that Seijuurou had moved back in with his parents—much to Tetsurou’s shock, not even a warning before he had stopped in to visit. Tetsurou kissed the inside of Kei’s hand, nuzzling against his palm. “Sorry, but he deserved it,” he pouted, kissing Kei’s palm again.

It was a week since Tetsurou told him that he was visiting his parents again, a week for a bruise to heal that much and still look so horrid. “I don’t doubt that,” Kei answered, his other hand gripping the University student’s thick hoodie and pulled him in for a proper embrace. Tetsurou’s nose pressed under his ear, moist smooch caressed his delicate skin, “don’t go back if he’s there.”

The man hummed, “don’t really plan to. Mom isn’t happy that I broke his arm and that he broke the kitchen table.” There was a bigger picture he needed to fill in—who went through the table and why did Tetsurou break his brother’s arm? He cradled that dark fluffy bedhead, combing fingers through his hair in silence—it seemed like Akiteru and Akaashi had ushered Bokuto further into the house, his boisterous laugh sounding from the living room with the rest of the guests, leaving both Tetsurou and Kei alone at the front door.

“Come. It’s chilly,” Kei released the man, stepping back into the house and letting the other follow. Tetsurou stepped into the house, a smile spreading on his lips. His shoulders and back easing, falling into a comfortable position. It make Kei’s heart flutter; Tetsurou felt at ease in his childhood home, he felt comfortable. Relaxed.

Tetsurou winked, “let’s go save your family from Bokuto.”


For the record, Akiteru doesn’t attack him with questions as soon as they take the open seat beside the eldest Tsukishima child. He at least allowed Bokuto, Noya (who appeared with Tanaka) and Tanaka to start a very animated conversation to drown out anything that they could start talking about. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.” Tetsurou doesn’t even look away from the three sitting on the floor, thumbing through pictures on their social media of choice and sharing very loud, energetic stories about the events that surround it.

“How did you two meet?”

Tetsurou glances away from the trio at that, winking to Kei. “A practice match last year at Nekoma High, they lost. They were only really starting to come into themselves as a team. But in the summer training camp we spend mostly every day together.” He snuggled up against Kei’s side, nuzzling the underside of the blond’s jaw lovingly. He’s been clinging the whole time; leaning against the younger male, nuzzling his face into his neck or against his shoulder. His scent rubbing off all over Kei, but it wasn’t the only reason why he was doing it. Tetsurou had been hiding the ugly bruising against Kei’s body, keeping the questions of how he got it and the sort from dominating the conversation.

“Kei said you’re in University; what are you studying?”

“Law.” Kei snorts at the quirt answers; so like how he answers questions about himself. Tetsurou doesn’t even pull his face from Kei’s neck, still nuzzling his face and nose to the pale column of flesh. Showering the blond with as much love and devotion as possible.

“Do you still play volleyball?” Everything was so tame. Where was the threats? Where were the embarrassing questions on when he discovered his own sexuality? How about some sappy stuff that Tetsurou could gush about, like how he and Kei started dating—now that would be a much better question.

Tetsurou sighed, disheartened by the lack of embarrassment, by the lack of creativity. When he meets his children’s significant others he’d put them through the ringer. One thought provoking thought after the other that’ll have their brains spinning. “No, but I help coach a middle school team close by. It’s fun; the kids seem to enjoy my pointers—well, they’re a lot more excitable than Kei ever was.”

“How long have you two been together?”

Tetsurou perked up at the question; going far enough to show Akiteru his wicked grin, his mug half damaged couldn’t diminish the sheer power behind his grin. “Seven months? Or close to that—Kei likes to correct me with the proper months and days.” He bats those long black eyelashes at him, fluttering obnoxiously effeminate. “Don’t you my beloved moonshine?”

Kei groaned pushing the man’s face away from his own. “You’re embarrassing.” His hand covering half of Tetsurou’s face, glaring half-heartedly at the male. His golden eyes twinkled, gleaming and shimmering with mischief. Mouth parting under Kei’s palm, lathering it with a heavy coating of saliva—wonderful Tetsurou germs straight for the source. “You’re disgusting,” the blond’s peeled up in disgust, violated hand dropping to Tetsurou’s hoodie and wiping the spit off on the material.


“Thank you for the meal!” The group called in unison, Mrs. Tsukishima had gone a little over board with her cooking that day. Serving tonkatsu with a side the typical miso soup, but due to the fact that the majority of her guests that evening would be hot blooded boys who’d most likely eat far more than her youngest son, she served tempura as well as her own personal favourite sushi.

They dug in—some more so than the others.

Akaashi stared at his lover, brows steadily creeping higher and higher up his brow and into his hair. Maybe if he didn’t draw attention to Bokuto’s horrid table manners (which, Akaashi would swear he’s not always like this) no one would call attention to him—but, much to his growing embarrassment, everyone was staring in awe as Bokuto continued stuffing his face completely oblivious to the silence around him.

Akaashi plucked his napkin from his lap (it was polite, okay?!), whipping the fabric towards the overall direction with a sharp snap that came from years of practice. Bokuto brought out the childish side in him, made washing dishes fun by playing with the bubbles or flicking water at each other or even taking hold of the drying towel and whipping it against Akaashi’s booty. He had been like that in middle school and in high school (Akaashi had been able to move ahead one year in middle school so he had ended up following Bokuto) with the towels after showers, the fabric leaving angry looking red marks against Akaashi’s pale skin.

Bokuto screeched, flailing when the napkin snapped against the tender skin of his neck. Chopsticks falling to the table cloth as he gripped his neck, bemoaning at the abuse. “But it’s so good Keiji!” he pouted, rubbing his sore neck.

Tetsurou snickered behind his hand, “it’s like you haven’t eaten in years bro!”

Bokuto perks up, leaning forward to grin. “Well it’s so good! Better than my Grammy’s cooking! And you know how awesome Grammy cooks!” He exclaimed, returning his chopsticks to his hand and side-eyeing his lover cautiously.

Mrs. Tsukishima blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well you’re certainly more enthusiastic than my sons—it’s almost refreshing to be appreciated so openly.” The woman winked, grabbing Kei’s arm and squeezing the teen’s bicep.

“Well my mother insured that I have proper table manners,” the teen mumbled. Bokuto glares, bottom lip sticking out in a droopy pout. Beside Tetsurou Saeko leaned against Akiteru, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before sampling the meal. She shivered, clutching her chopsticks in her fist. Shuttering and shivering, licking her lips before chewing so incredibly slowly. She was used to cooking for her brother and herself, sure, but it’s been so long since she was able to have a meal so Japanese and tasty without being from a restaurant (and on a date).

Noya licked his lips, diving into the food that had both Bokuto and Saeko’s approval. His eyes sparkled, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He needed to figure out what Mrs. Tsukishima added in this to make it so tasty—there had to be an explanation to the sensual flavours. He’d make it for Asahi, use it to seduce him in coming back down to visit him more—Asahi had told him that he loved it when Noya cooked for him (or cooked with him). “This is fantastic!”

Tanaka chortled, puffing out his chest with pride. He had gushed about the meal that he had had weeks ago at the Tsukishima household that no one had believed; there had to be a reason why Tsukishima-kun was moody and one of the reasons they thought the reason was for lack of a tasty diet. “I told you Tsukishima had it good, man!”

Kei’s lip pulled up as another wave of disgust pulsed through him. “Ugh,” he let out. His rich brown eyes staring at the mess his seniors were making over their faces, stuffing food into their mouth in a speed that Bokuto quickly mirror—never one to lose even when the alternative was so, sooo much kinder than this.  

“Oh let them enjoy a delicious meal made by a lovely woman,” he cooed, winking at the woman in question who sat at the head of the table opposite her husband at the other end. Tetsurou certainly knew how to make Kei’s mother swoon, she loved him already—for that Kei was happy. It made everything so much easier with his parents approval of their relationship.

Kei’s mother laughed, “And this is what I should be hearing from you, honey.” She winked across the table to her mate.

The man blushed, “but I get to spend forever with you. It’s only fair you get praised by others too.”

The woman shook her head, rolling her eyes. “It wouldn’t hurt to hear it from you daily as well.”


They were sound asleep by the time Kei reached back, cupped the back of Tetsurou’s neck and humming when the man nuzzled against the nape of his neck. His breath sending shivers down his spine—even before he pressed a kiss to his ivory skin. Kei licked his lips, eyes glancing towards his closed door; a feat that was only allowed due to the two men sleeping on the futons on the floor, ear plugs wedged in their ears and Bokuto snoring peacefully for the food coma he was lulled into.

When Tetsurou said he’d take care of it, even if it meant pulling a favor card, the man certainly meant it.

He withdrew his hand, slipping back under the covers and grasping one of Tetsurou’s in his. He sucked in a breath, stealing his nerves as the man continued to press kiss after kiss to his neck. Tetsurou’s hand went willing, easily guided under the waistband of his boxers and around to his ass. “I want to have sex… the next time I’m down,” Kei whispered, his cheeks aflame as he felt the man’s fingers twitch between his cheeks.

Tetsurou withdrew his hand, setting it over Kei’s clothed hip instead as he pushed himself. “Kei,” those same very fingers that had just caressed between his ass checks gripped his jaw, forcing their gaze to meet. “You don’t—”

“I want to.” Kei swallows thickly, shifting to ease the strain from his neck. “We’ve been together for seven months now Tetsurou—I want to. I’ve wanted to for a while,” he didn’t want to talk about it. He knew that it was big—that Tetsurou would make a big deal of it. And sure, okay it might be something a little more than the sex they were used to. And sure they’d have to make sure to double check that everything was good in terms of protection.

Breeders weren’t just a pretty (and in Kei opinion: degrading) term giving to Omegas. No, Breeders could do exactly that no matter what their gender and what gender their partner was. Scientists were still trying to figure out the genetics behind that and why only a small group of Omegas were able to whelp children; all Omegas went into heat, all those heats seemed to be a diving force for procreation. It was like whole question about the retractable fangs and claws in Alphas that’ll only appear during signs of aggression or mating. And also with Betas and the calming scent they were able to release.

He stares, golden orbs shining in the sliver of light that weaved through the tiny gap between his curtains, flicking between one eye to the other before tracing down to the rest of his face. The man surged in, their lips pressed together, noses scrunched as lips parted. Tongues slipping between teeth, the wet slick—the sensual slide of muscles pressed together, the ease of the push and pull of the action. It was a dance now; well-practiced, Kei could kiss this man in his dreams, in his sleep. The action so engrained in his being that he couldn’t picture himself never kissing him again.

One kiss breaks away; lips pressing and releasing in quick succession. One, two, three in a row before the fourth was deepened. Hands exploring, returning under clothes, on naked skin that could be shown for some casual sleeping. Kei broke the kiss, rolling back on his side and shimmying out of his pajama pants. He pressed kisses to the inside of Tetsurou’s arm, the one he had pushed between Kei’s neck and the mattress. “This is what you want, right?” His deft fingers slid beneath his boxers, tickled down his soft milky white skin. Fingers searching, slipping lower and lower till Kei sighed—Tetsurou hissed. “Fuck.”

Kei’s hole had started producing lubricant—not much, not yet. “Under my bed,” Kei licked his lips, Tetsurou’s body already in motion to reach under the bed to the shoe box he liked to move his condoms and lube to (the dildo stayed in the nightstand where it will not be touched again unless it was during his heat, no thanks he can make do with his or Tetsurou’s fingers).

The blond buried his face in the pillow, shimmying his pant and underwear further down his legs to pool around his knees as his lover settled in behind him. Slick fingers sliding between his cheeks, pressing against his hole. Tetsurou’s lips pressed against Kei’s hairline, against his neck as he circled his ring finger around the rim. It was the most sensitive part of the anus besides the prostate gland, and Tetsurou pressing and circled, massaging his slicked up finger slowly within him. Nipping and kissing the back of Kei’s neck all the while, whispering praise against his skin.

Teeth elongating, pricking against the back of Kei’s neck as Tetsurou lapped and nipped, nuzzled and kissed at the flesh. He pressed his middle finger in first, easing the digit in slowly, and breathing in deeply through his nostrils. Kei’s anus sucked it down greedily, his hole loose and slicked—arousal poured off him, smothering Tetsurou in the scent as he crooked his finger and pulled out. He slipped in another, eyes fluttering closed at the soft moan that Kei released against Tetsurou’s arm; his lips kissing the inside of the man’s arm.

“You feel so fucking good,” Tetsurou voiced, pressing kiss after kiss against the back of his boyfriend’s neck. "When I have you back home with me I’ll open you up so slow, fuck you nice and slow ‘till you’re dripping wet from my fingers.” Kei whimpered, hips rocking back against Tetsurou’s hand. His whole body blushed, the pink bleeding to a bright red with every work Tetsurou whispered against his neck.

“We won’t have to be quiet,” he licked up the back of Kei’s neck, long pointed teeth nipping at the flesh. “You can scream, beg—cry out for my cock, for my knot to fill you up and split you open.” The blond whimpered, body shuttering when the man’s two fingers grazed against his prostate. Massaging it with those two fingers over and over and over again—the blond whimpering, shifting and pressing back against the intrusion.

His teeth snuck in, pressing and digging into his long neck. Kei slapped his hand over his mouth, crying out against his palm as those sharpened teeth sunk through flesh and sink, digging deep until blood poured and the scent of copper filled their lungs. “Shit,” Tetsurou hissed, retracting his teeth from the blond’s neck. Licking over the wound in an apology. “Fuck, sorry. Shit!” he cursed, fingers stilling deep within Kei as he lapped over the wound.

“Don’t,” Kei moaned, palm muffling the plea, “keep going. It feels good. Tetsu.” He pressed back, arching his neck back against Tetsurou’s mouth—the Alpha was frenzied, his nature prickling under his skin. He wanted to fuck, to take Kei then and there—Kei was willing, he was so incredibly willing under his palm, around his fingers that he began to fuck him with.

“Tetsu,” Kei sighed, his free hand reaching back to tangle through Kuroo’s hair and pull him in. The man pressed a kiss to his ear, tongue poking out between his blood tinted lips to lick up the shell of his ear. “Tetsu,” Kei shivered, arching his back against the man’s chest.

“I’m right here baby, I’m right here. Go on, you can cum,” he whispered against his ear, kissing the lobe.


Tetsurou stared at the mark, a pout on his lips as Kei relaxed in the hot water of the bath. In a panic the pair had hushed to cloth themselves again (in Kei’s case) when Bokuto began flailing around in his sleep. Tetsurou had pointed, gesturing to Kei to go hide in the bathroom and clean himself off while the man fought to open the window. Allowing some fresh air to ease away the smell of sex and blood in the blond’s bedroom.

“It didn’t hurt,” Kei sighed, running the soapy cloth up the back of his neck to wash away the remaining blood. The wound had already sealed over, though the mark would remain for a while. That was always the case with Kei—he’d stop bleeding quickly, but the wound would take a week or two to fade completely.

“But it does now,” Tetsurou stressed, his chin resting against the cold lip of the tub. As punishment he had kept himself out of the bath, sitting on the cold hard ground as his lover bathed away their nighttime activities. Kei shook his head; he couldn’t lie to that, it was tender and the scab would itch fiercely tomorrow.

“It’s not like you’ve never bitten me before.”

The man’s pout grew, “but this is on the neck, Tsukki. That’s special! I didn’t even ask.” Kei only rolled his eyes again—really, Tetsurou did nothing wrong. Sure, the biting around the neck would show a full mating bond and a mating companionship. This was just another instance in which they were jumping steps, showing just how much they loved each other and just how crazy the other made them. It wasn’t like Kei would punish the man for doing something that he, himself, eventually wished to do. This just proved to himself that Tetsurou and he wanted the same things.

“Then you can start biting my neck too,” Kei shrugged, running the cloth over his face to hide his blush. The man beside the tub whined low in his throat, drawn out as his brain short-circuited.