Work Text:
Tsukishima Kei has nice legs. Like, really fucking nice legs. Like, can’t get them out of your head legs. Tall, thin, muscular, with a down of golden hair. The kind of legs that go on for days, that look perfectly sculpted by the gods themselves, that you want wrapped around your neck and squeezing until---
Okay, calm down little guy.
So Kuroo may have always had a bit of a thing for Tsukishima’s legs. And that thing may be rearing its head - literally - right about now. But really, can you blame him? Kuroo wasn’t exactly prepared to face Tsukishima walking out wearing a maid dress with those fucking sheer black thigh-highs today. Or ever.
Kuroo tries to discreetly adjust the growing problem in his pants and wonders how the fuck he got here.
Okay, to be honest, he knows exactly how he got here.
After highschool, Kuroo was recruited to a college team known for their solid defense and strategic plays. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see Tsukishima recruited as well, but Kuroo was a bit shocked when he actually accepted the offer.
When Tsukishima walked into the gym during Kuroo’s junior year, he could almost feel himself drooling. Tsukishima had grown. He’d gotten taller, more toned, his faced matured into that of an adult. A man. But he didn’t lose his confidence, and that telltale smirk had Kuroo weak at the knees. Tsukishima got hot , and Kuroo couldn’t help but fall.
Not to mention, of course, his fucking legs. Kuroo’s got a thing for legs, he’s not embarrassed to admit. They’re sexy, sue him. He’s messed around before with a few flings, but no one had legs like Tsukki’s. He’d already noticed in highschool, but Tsukishima was a bit too young for Kuroo to want to pursue anything.
But now? Holy shit.
They’ve only been on the team together for a few months and Kuroo can already feel his resolve crumbling. See, he’s good at reading people. He won’t go for someone unless he’s already got a pretty good idea that they are into him, or at the very least curious.
But Tsukishima’s as hard to read as they come. Kuroo doesn’t want to cause an awkward atmosphere, especially since they’ve got a pretty good thing going. They hang out pretty often on campus, and Tsukishima has even stayed the night at his apartment pulling an all-nighter for an exam.
Kuroo doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and screw all that up, so he’s kept a lid on his crush. If you ask him, he’s done a pretty good job of it... until now.
Now that Tsukishima is standing five feet in front of him, in an empty classroom, in a fucking maid dress with thigh-highs . This hits kinks Kuroo didn’t even realize he had. It’s all because of his stupid upperclassmen on the team. They decided on the maid/butler cafe for the culture festival, forcing the underclassmen to crossdress.
Kuroo had just finished his shift and came to the classroom to change, not realizing Tsukishima had been changing behind a crudely set up curtain in the corner.
And now, he subtly hunches over and hopes his growing boner isn’t too visible. Tsukishima stares at him for a few moments, surprise on his face. His face shifts into a scowl.
“Don’t. Say. A word,” he demands.
“Ah- aha,” Kuroo awkwardly laughs and scratches his head, shifting to face the door and away from Tsukishima. “Actually, I - uh, I forgot something, so I gotta…” He steps towards the door, but Tsukishima grabs his arm. Kuroo accidentally turns his body back to face Tsukishima before he can catch himself.
“Oh, wait, I actually wanted to ask you… about… tonight…” Tsukishima trails off. Kuroo slowly turns his face up and - yeah, okay, Tsukishima is staring at his obvious bulge. Worst case scenario.
“Holy shit,” Tsukishima’s face morphs into a smirk. “Are you into this?” he asks, mirth on his tongue. His fingers dig into Kuroo’s arm, not letting go.
“Fuck. Have you seen yourself? Ugh, sorry, just - let me go to the bathroom, c’mon,” Kuroo whines. And yeah, so he’s a little embarrassed to be caught with a stiffy like some kind of pubescent kid.
“Haha,” Tsukishima’s laugh is breathy. “Hmm… no.” Tsukishima drags Kuroo by the arm and pushes him into a nearby chair. He towers over him as he leans in closer.
“What the fuck?” Kuroo is confused and more than a little horny. That was kind of hot. Tsukishima is awakening all kinds of kinks in him today. Is it on purpose?
“I said no. I won’t let you go,” Tsukishima replies, voice smooth. “So, what is it? The dress? My humiliation? Bringing me down a peg? What’s getting you off about this?”
Okay, so it definitely is on purpose.
“F-fuck. Seriously? Are we doing this? Are you into this?” Kuroo replies, incredulous.
“We’ll see. Answer the question.”
Fuck, this is happening. And it’s sexier than Kuroo dared to ever imagine. Okay, he can do this. Hell yeah.
Kuroo breathes a laugh, “Aha, alright. I’ll play with you. It’s your legs, in those stockings. I’ve got a thing for long, lean legs, and yours are just perfect.” Kuroo’s voice simmers into a purr.
“Oh yeah?” Tsukishima replies, standing up straight. He lifts one leg up, then places his foot right between Kuroo’s legs onto the chair and kicks Kuroo’s thighs open. Kuroo lets his legs spread with a moan, the fabric of his pants stretching over his erection.
“Yeah. Can I touch?” Kuroo asks, breathless.
“Yourself?”
“Your legs.”
“Alright. But you can’t touch yourself,” Tsukishima smirks again, foot sitting on the chair, inches from Kuroo’s straining bulge.
Kuroo moans again, “Fuck, Kei.”
He leans forward and runs his hands up Tsukishima’s silky calf, over his knee, kneads his thigh where the top of the tights squeeze into his skin. Kuroo bites and sucks little wet spots up Tsukishima’s leg.
Tsukishima moves away, and Kuroo groans at the loss.
“Hold on just - let me…” Tsukishima trails off, looking around. He walks over and locks the door to the classroom, then pushes a desk in front of where Kuroo is sitting. He turns back around and hops up onto it. When he scoots back, his feet dangle just inches from the ground. Kuroo leans forward to reach for Tsukishima’s legs again, but Tsukishima forces him back with a foot to his chest, and holds it there.
Kuroo moans. He’s a little embarrassed at how fast Tsukishima has reduced him to wordlessness, but damn if this isn’t the most turned on he’s ever been. He can’t even care about it.
“Take your dick out,” Tsukishima demands. Alright, so Tsukki is just as eager.
“We’re really doing this?” Kuroo can barely bring himself to believe this isn’t some crazy hormonal sex dream that’ll wake him up with wet, sticky boxers.
“Obviously. Unless you don’t want to.” Tsukishima’s face still has that impassive smirk on it, but Kuroo senses a bit of hesitation there, too. Okay, so they are both taking shots in the dark. That’s fine, that’s great, actually. Kuroo can keep up.
“Kei, you’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted to,” Kuroo replies, and this time it’s his turn to smirk. He slowly unzips his pants and shimmies them down just enough to let his erection pop out over the top. He knows his dick is impressive. He’s uncut, girthy, and long enough to take some getting used to. But he’s never shied away from foreplay, so his partners always end up satisfied. He swells with pride when he sees Tsukishima’s poker face falter for just a moment, eyes widening then narrowing with hunger . Yeah, he could have guessed Tsukki was a size queen.
Kuroo peels back his foreskin, then tries to give himself a few good strokes for some relief. He can’t even get two in before Tsukishima kicks away his hand. Kuroo puts his hands all over Tsukishima’s legs, instead. He continues to lick and kiss up Tsukishima’s calf with slow attention, caressing every curve.
Kuroo jolts and moans as Tsukishima uses his stockinged feet to rub up and down Kuroo’s shaft. Kuroo runs his hands up Tsukishimas’ thighs, under his skirt, and massages right at the V of his groin. Tsukishima is wearing boxers, and somehow that makes it even sexier. Kuroo’s hands brush against the fabric, but don’t go any further. Two can play at this game of denial.
“God, Kei. You’re so sexy. I can’t stop thinking about you,” Kuroo hisses into Tsukishima’s knee, thrusting in tune with the ministrations of his feet.
“Heh, yeah? What do you think about?”
“Your long, perfect legs. Your pale skin marked red, your face screwed up in pleasure. I want to see behind your unaffected mask, I want to touch the places you don’t let anyone touch. Fuck, I can’t believe you’re letting me touch you.” Kuroo groans and bites into the soft skin under Tsukishima’s knee. Tsukishima jumps with a stuttering moan.
“A-ahh! That’s pretty - ungh - poetic for dirty talk.”
Kuroo grins and looks up at Tsukishima’s flushed face, “I somehow get the feeling you aren’t into explicit dirty talk.”
Tsukishima hums noncommittally, but Kuroo can tell he’s irked that he was read so well. Good, Kuroo thinks he deserves a little of the upper hand right about now. He pulls his hands to knead at the skin right under the top of the tights.
“I’ll just have to show you what I want to do to you. The tights are a great start,” Kuroo says, then grasps the nylon and rips a gash right down the thigh of one leg.
“O-oh,” Tsukishima breathes, moaning when kuroo slips his fingers into the hole and slides against skin. It paints an erotic picture, and Kuroo grins at his own ingenuity. Tsukishima continues to rub at Kuroo’s prick with his feet, but his pace is faltering. Kuroo’s face turns predatory. He leans forwards and faces up, maintaining eye contact.
“Tsukki… Let me cum on your legs,” he purrs, low in his throat.
“Fuck. Yeah. Yes, do it.” Tsukishima pulls his foot away, a string of precum trailing from Kuroo’s dick. Damn, is that awakening another kink? Kuroo doesn’t even care anymore, he grabs Tsukishima’s ankle and licks the damp tip. The drag of the stockings on his tongue pulls another moan from his throat, and he nips the tip of Tsukishima’s toes. Yeah, add foot fetish to the list.
Kuroo stands and leans in close to Tsukishima’s ear. ”Cross your legs,” he whispers.
Kuroo can feel him shiver as he leans back on his arms and obediently crosses his ankles. The visual sends a spike of lust through Kuroo’s body, his neglected cock throbbing. He begins to reach for some relief, but pauses, hand scant inches from his erection.
“Can I touch myself now?” He says, desperation leaking into his voice.
“Hmm…” Tsukishima makes a show of thinking on it, then smirks. “You’ve been good. Go ahead.”
Kuroo does, and groans as he finally, finally , gets some real friction. He squeezes, then rubs his precum down his shaft to give it a little slide. It feels so good. He’s been keyed up for what feels like forever with the sexiest human being on earth teasing him incessantly, so it doesn’t take long to work himself up. He thrusts into his fist, other hand pulling Tsukishima’s legs towards him. Then he’s gone, reaching white hot climax and painting stripes of cum up Tsukishima’s calves.
He pants as the world comes back around him, loosening his bruising grip on Tsukishima’s leg. The sight of his cum leaving damp spots on the nylon gives his dick another twitch, and he falls back into his chair, spent. Tsukishima rests his feet on Kuroos lap, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands, elbows on his knees. He’s the picture of smug confidence, and Kuroo can’t get enough.
“Let me catch my breath and I’ll return the favor. Let me blow you,” Kuroo breathes.
“No,” Tsukishima says, then sighs. “I need to go work my shift, or they’ll bitch me out and make me do something even more embarrassing than wear a maid dress. These stockings are ruined, though. I’ll have to tell them I ripped them.”
Kuroo’s spent brain is having a hard time catching up. Oh, right. The culture festival. That he’s missing. Because he just got a footjob in an empty fucking classroom at his university. Right. The reason for the dress in the first place. Damn, he really just blew his brain out of his dick, huh. He stuffs his dick back in his pants and zips up.
“Wait, here, at least let me clean you up,” Kuroo says. He doesn’t feel right getting his world rocked and not doing anything in return.
“Fine,” Tsukishima says, voice bored. However the flush still on his cheeks tells Kuroo it’s just for show. It makes Kuroo chuckle under his breath. He reverently pulls each stocking off, dick twitching at the sight, and chucks them in the trash. He jogs to the nearest restroom and wets some paper towels with soap, then returns to wipe down each leg. He takes his time, slowly caressing every dip and divot, giving extra care at each foot.
“You got a thing for feet, too?” Tsukishima asks with a sly grin.
“Yeah, I guess I do,” Kuroo laughs. “They’re pretty. And they’re a part of your legs, so.” He finishes wiping, then squeezes Tsukishima’s thighs for good measure.
“Hmm.” Tsukishima stands up, then fluffs out his skirt. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll text you my address. You’ll return the favor tonight, won’t you?”
Kuroo had plans to go to the gym, but fuck that, he’s canceling. He grins a Cheshire grin, pulling Tsukishima by the waist and giving him a peck on the cheek.
“I can’t wait.” Kuroo winks and walks to the door, grabbing his bag on the way. He turns at the door with a wave, and then he’s gone.
So maybe Tsukishima ends up working his shift with a semi, but he’ll let Kuroo figure out that kink on his own.