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Sakusa walked into the room with a small box in his hands, just smaller than a stack of three thick books. Its edges were dented and the corrosion of the metal was clear from where Atsumu sat near the fireplace.
With a small huff, he put the box on a large table in the centre of the room, hands now free to cuff his sleeves to his elbows.
“Was this the thing you were talkin’ about?” Atsumu asked, fingers playing with the prayer beads around his neck. He stood and came closer, not touching the table. He knew what the rules were in Sakusa’s home.
The man nodded and slipped on gloves before running a finger lightly along raised symbols and indented lines. “Yes. I’ve done research on the sigils on the sides and it appears to have come from the time when people worshipped the… silver haired demon– I dare not speak his name under my ceiling.”
“Well it’s pretty stupid of ya to bring this object here if ya won’t even say his name. This looks dangerous.”
“I have the proper wards set up, Miya. This isn’t the first time I’ve brought an artefact to be examined here.”
Atsumu sighed. “Alright. And ya brought me here ‘cuz I know about the demon.”
“Yes.”
A cocky smile made its way to Atsumu’s lips, much too proud for someone who followed God’s path. “Are ya admittin’ to knowin’ less than me fer once?”
“I know the areas where my knowledge is less than my peers. Don’t make me ask you to leave.”
“That ain’t very kind of ya, Father Omi .”
“Don’t make me go against my vows, Miya.”
“Ya know I would never,” Atsumu replied with a grin. He picked up the spare gloves Sakusa left on the table and snapped them on, humming to himself as he traced the edges, finger going to familiar motifs.
Sakusa watched him carefully, not knowing what he saw in the archaic etches of the rusted metal.
“Ki–the demon–,” Atsumu started, quickly amending his words, “worked closely with Lust. Stories too horrific for the bible were written down on old parchments and they depicted them findin’ joy in corruptin’ those who kept chaste.”
Sakusa’s mouth formed a straight line. “Didn’t they tend to go for men too?”
“Yeah. ‘Specially brothers, priests, leaders of ministry… name it and they’ve corrupted at least a dozen of each.”
Something turned in Sakusa’s stomach. Disgust was painted clear on his face at the thought of how twisted one must be to be so far from the light of God. “Are they still active to this day?”
“There’s no indication to say that they haven’t stopped.”
Sakusa nodded tensely and murmured a quick petition to the Lord, asking for the strength of his wards to withstand the possible threats of the demonic object. He brought a chair over and sat, peering closer at the design.
From the other side, Atsumu frowned at the object. “Let me go get my notes. I’ve got the meanin’s of known sigils written down somewhere,” he said as he turned back and walked over to the bag he brought, rifling through the contents.
“Do you think there’s anything in here?” Sakusa asked, finger now pressing harder on the runes, trying to find anything out of the ordinary.
“Definitely,” Atsumu replied, flipping through the pages of his book.
Sakusa turned the box onto its side, inspecting the bottom of it. There was a raised circle in the very centre with delicate lines spiralling outwards. He pressed on the circle and waited for a change. Nothing. Then he grasped its sides with his fingers and turned it right– nothing. He tried left and it yielded, moving only a quarter way around before stopping.
“I think I found something,” he called to Atsumu, both hands now fiddling with the raised flourishes. He held onto one and pinched it with deft fingers, finding that it moved to the side and the other spirals followed. The circle continued its turn.
“Uh– hold on Omi-kun, we should read the symbols first,” Atsumu replied, looking through his book as he slowly walked back.
Sakusa looked up, blinking at the sudden haze that clouded his vision. “I– alright.”
He removed his hands from the box, seeing the intricate mechanism now operating with a mind of its own. Concern clutched at his stomach and he glanced back at Atsumu with worry. He was met with the same expression.
“Sakusa get aw–”
His words were interrupted by a crack from the box which was both quiet and deafening. A puff of red filled the air and settled on everything within a metre radius. Including Sakusa.
Sakusa coughed lightly, instantly swiping at the powder. “Miya, tell me what this is,” he said, tone more fearful than demanding. His gaze flickered up to his companion, who’s eyes were wide with panic. Both his hands gripped his book and the colour drained from his face.
“An aphrodisiac…” he stuttered out, “that… that specific colour is said to be the most powerful.” Atsumu took a step back and his book dropped from his hand, thumping open onto the floor.
Sakusa felt fire crawl up his skin. Heat raced through his veins and demanded complete surrender of his body. His eyes fell shut as he gasped, hands clutching at the sides of the chair. “W-what? Say that again?” His breath came out harder and he sank lower on the seat.
Atsumu swallowed, watching as a harsh blush covered Sakusa’s face, expression contorting into one of need . “Sakusa,” he began, voice wavering, “remember what you’ve learned, remember your vows.”
“It’s… It’s so hot,” he moaned, tugging at the collar of his shirt, letting his head fall back. A pressure built up between his legs and he spread them in an attempt to relieve tension, but the faint brush of the fabric of his loose pants gave fuel to the flames and caressed sensitivities he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
His cotton shirt was too heavy, too tight against his chest. He could feel his nipples harden and another dumb moan spill from his lips. He ripped both gloves from his hands and went to undo his top button, quickly fumbling with the second. There was no room for shame when the sun was exploding and God’s benevolence was absent.
Atsumu dug his fingers into his arm, fighting the urge to shake Sakusa out of his fervor. “Sakusa,” he repeated, voice hard. The stories told of death when pollen-induced desire was left unsatiated, and although the man was grating at times, Atsumu didn’t want him dead.
“Sakusa, say the Lord’s prayer. He’s the only one that can save you,” he said as he took off his beads, clutching them in his hand and kneeling a few feet from where the outline of powder was defined on the floor. He closed his eyes, calming himself before he began muttering a prayer under his breath.
A whine forced itself out of Sakusa’s mouth and he found that he was less ashamed of himself than he should be. He barely registered Atsumu’s words as an order and said, “y-yeah. Yes. Almighty God a-above– ah – I– I– it’s so hot … Atsumu, please. ”
At the mention of his name–and not Miya –he paused his intercession and met eyes with Sakusa. His eyes were no longer sharp, but half lidded and pleading. The straight set of his jaw and the rigid line of his lips were now slack and a line of drool trailed past an open mouth, down to his chin. The Lord was not on Atsumu’s side as he caught sight of the sweat on Sakusa’s chest, the top half of the buttons of his shirt undone.
“God… please grant me the self control and necessary mind to help free your servant from these sha–”
“Atsumu!” came the sharp cry, and his head jerked back up in time to see Sakusa fall on shaky legs onto the floor. His shirt hung around his shoulders and his cheeks were a violent red, the same colour on his neck and shoulders. Desperation was evident in every heaving breath and moan that escaped wet lips. “I need
help
.”
He nodded, “yes, yes just pray and God will help you because I… I can’t.”
Sakusa shook his head, wild hair like a cloud, crimson dust falling from every curl. “You can. I need you now , p-please. Please Atsumu.”
The delirium in his eyes was captivating in a way it should not be and Atsumu gripped his beads harder, dragging his own eyes down to where they were in his hand. He should not look at the Devil’s temptation before him.
There was a way out of this. God had written the journey of every life before they were born and Sakusa’s did not end here, he was certain. They could still follow the path of the Lord and be righteous in h––
Sakusa placed a hand on Atsumu’s.
He was burning. Atsumu raised his head and Sakusa was so close. The room around them fell away and the light of the fire made Sakusa look… angelic. Atsumu could feel his heavy breaths on his lips and his resolve fractured at the sight of him . Sakusa. Undone in a matter of seconds.
Their proximity rendered him speechless, and he was aware of the tingling sensation on his skin caused by stray flecks of the powder.
“It hurts ,” Sakusa whimpered quietly, eyes imploring mercy, imploring touch and hand and mouth. Begging for the deliberate defiance of grace.
And Atsumu, taught to be a servant of the Lord, gave way to the pleas of the man who now spoke transgression like scripture.
He leaned closer, their noses brushing against each other. He watched as Sakusa’s eyes fluttered closed and his bottom lip quivered, specks of dust like droplets of wine smudged from mouth to cheek.
Would God forgive him? If it were to save the life of another?
He pressed his mouth to Sakusa’s, and he heard him groan from the back of his throat, fingers tightening where they were on his arm. He opened his mouth and licked along Sakusa’s bottom lip, feeling the sweet taste of sin like syrup.
He hoped the powder would distract his mind, at least for the moment.
Atsumu lifted a hand and pulled Sakusa’s chin down with a thumb, letting his tongue explore his mouth, succumbing to what his body craved, maybe for even longer than the past few minutes.
Sakusa moaned and reciprocated, grasping at the back of Atsumu’s shirt and seating himself on his thighs. Every touch ignited his nerves and he knew he was falling deeper into damnation– but did that really matter when it felt so good?
“‘Tsumu..” Sakusa slurred, pulling back a fraction. “...Need… need more.”
Atsumu’s wide eyes roamed his face, flushed with ruin and he could do nothing but comply.
He hoisted Sakusa into his arms and let his mouth trail from lips to cheek to jaw to neck as he carried him with ease to the armchair next to the fireplace. Atsumu heard strings of moans like hymns next to his ear and he felt his dick twitch at the sound.
“Forgive me,” he muttered into Sakusa’s neck as if the man below him was God. He set him down and started undoing his shirt, watching as Sakusa discarded his own, dropping it onto the floor.
His skin was searing and Atsumu’s hands were so, so cold. The cure to this vice existed in every area where their bodies crashed against each other. What if heaven was not a place, but a person? The way Atsumu touched him was dizzying and no amount of prayers nor preaching made him feel this good.
Atsumu rid himself of his shirt and settled a knee between Sakusa’s legs, instantly causing a soft cry and his nails to dig into the arms of the chair. His eyes squeezed shut and Atsumu leaned forward to capture his lips in a kiss, arms placed on the backrest. Sakusa let his hands wrap around Atsumu’s waist, pads of his fingers pressed against the muscle of his back.
Without thinking, he began to grind on Atsumu’s knee, chasing whatever could alleviate the blaze under his skin. Lips on lips and hands on skin and the buzz of carnality in little scrapes of teeth and nail were all at once too much and too little.
“ More ,” he gasped between desperate kisses.
And who was Atsumu to disobey?
God did not exist in this space between the two of them. Not like school dances where nuns berated young couples who stood too closely. ‘ Leave room for God,’ they said.
There was no room for God here.
God did not exist in Atsumu’s mouth, wrapped around an aching cock. His omnipresence was dubious when he did not stop Sakusa from curling a hand into blond hair and tugging it as he let out loud whines that filled the large room. The smell and sound of lust and greed and hunger clouded all senses, hanging like fog in the air.
Atsumu bobbed his head up and down Sakusa’s length, mesmerised by the collapse of his expression, brows furrowed and mouth in a perfect circle. Sharp begs for ‘ faster’ spurred him on and he hollowed his cheeks, tongue flicking at his slit.
Sakusa’s breath hitched as he spilled into Atsumu’s warm mouth with a low groan, stars dancing behind his eyelids.
Atsumu swallowed, but cum still splattered onto his cheek and torso, gathering in the small divots of his collarbones before dripping down his heaving chest. Sakusa opened his eyes and saw Atsumu, panting, face red, and on his knees for someone other than God. Mortal and vulnerable and ruined.
He pushed Atsumu’s hair from his forehead and leaned down to lick the excess from his cheek before holding his face and pulling him into a rough kiss.
Atsumu stood on shaky legs as he kissed back, fumbling to undo the zipper of his pants.
“C-can I…?”
He didn’t need to finish his question to understand.
Sakusa breathed out a small, “ yes,” as he shucked his pants off his legs, for once not caring about the mess on the floor.
“Turn around.”
Sakusa complied, bracing his forearms on the backrest, spreading his legs as wide as they could go with the restriction of the arms of the seat. He felt large hands on his ass and he shuddered in anticipation. They kneaded his cheeks and soft gasps left his mouth, the effects of the aphrodisiac still lingering in hypersensitive skin.
“Suck,” Atsumu said as he raised a hand to press at Sakusa’s mouth. He parted his lips and wrapped his tongue around two digits, coating them with spit. His lessons taught him that this act of devotion was disgusting when the intention wasn’t for procreation, that his dignity would be diminished.
But this pleasure was better than studying holy texts and attending mass.
This was something better than dedication to God.
He whined involuntarily when Atsumu removed his fingers, but the feel of them pressing against his entrance elicited a quivering gasp. “Please–” he gritted out.
Atsumu bit his lip and slowly pressed one finger into his hole, other hand holding onto his waist. He glimpsed the contortion of Sakusa’s face from discomfort to slack pleasure at just a single finger and he quickly added a second, stretching him open.
Sakusa dropped his forehead to rest on the backs of his hands as he panted. “Just.. just give it to me already. I c-can take it.”
Atsumu licked his lips and pulled his hand from Sakusa’s hole, spitting into his palm and stroking himself. He sighed and pressed his cock against his entrance, swiftly pushing in. Sakusa tensed underneath him and long, stuttering moans were muffled against the armchair, mouth against fabric.
“S-So… so good,” Atsumu mumbled weakly as he bottomed out, hands drifting up Sakusa’s stomach to his pecs, fingers finding his nipples. The man was pliant underneath him and he dug his nails into the chair as he gasped, back arching prettily.
“Move,” he demanded, more needy than forceful.
“ Ah– yeah, yes .”
Atsumu leaned forward, arms next to Sakusa’s own. He moaned as he began thrusting, actions hurried and desperate. Obscene sounds came from Sakusa as he unravelled under Atsumu’s hands and hips, fingers pinching and twisting his nipples as he slammed into his ass, chasing the complete opposite of faith and adherence.
His movements turned erratic as he drew nearer and nearer to release, breaths coming out harder. With a final thrust, he came in Sakusa with a raw moan, Sakusa spiralling into pleasure shortly after, his satisfaction painted clear on the dark fabric.
Their bodies turned lax and Atsumu pulled out with a grunt, Sakusa dropping into the armchair below him, too tired to care about the mess on it. He looked at Atsumu and motioned him to sit on his lap with a hand patting his thigh.
Atsumu obeyed and sat, and Sakusa brought him into another kiss. Softer this time, exhaustion still not a strong enough force to overcome the want for lips against lips, hand holding hand.