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They know he’s been watching. Of course they would. They both know him well enough.
Tsukishima can’t help it, and if he could, who can blame him? Somehow, when Sakusa is playing volleyball, he’s the prettiest. Wide shoulders and a tapered waist, with muscles firm and defined. Tsukishima likes it best when he reaches up for a spike or a serve, whenever Sakusa is flying in the air, stretching all of his body to reach the ball.
Then there’s Bokuto, who, whenever he strikes, punches the air out of Tsukki’s lungs and arousal shoots through every nerve of him straight to a place where it shouldn’t. It’s fascinating, to have this much of an immediate effect on someone. More than once, Tsukishima has wondered how Bokuto playing volleyball was even legal.
Fuck Yamaguchi for telling him that he has a type – that Sakusa and Bokuto are exactly his type. Fuck him because of all things, why does his type have to be strong volleyball players?
Tsukishima can feel the embarrassment crawl up his spine and bloom freshly red on his cheeks. He doesn’t breathe when they stop practicing to saunter next to him, eyes never leaving his because, of course–
Of course
They had to know.
“You all right there, Tsukishima?” Sakusa has the gall to ask. He sits next to him, their skins barely touching, but Sakusa runs so hot, Tsukishima can feel the heat radiate. “You look like you could use a drink.”
Bokuto hands him the bottle he’s been drinking from. “Here,” he says. “This could help a little.”
When he sits on Tsukishima’s other side, his hand lands on Tsukishima’s bare thigh.
Bokuto’s hand is big and rough, and his fingertips are cold from the condensation on the surface of the water bottle. Tsukishima’s mind short-circuits and all he can manage to respond is a hum.
“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Sakusa grabs his attention again with a soft graze of his fingertips on the back of Tsukki’s neck. “This thing you have with Atsumu… is it serious?”
“Huh?”
“‘Cause we’ve been thinking, Bokuto and I.” Sakusa nods to the other man. Tsukki’s eyes flit between them and, woah, when has Bokuto come that close? “Maybe we can have a little fun, just the three of us, I bet you’d like that.”
“I bet I… do I what?”
Bokuto snickers. The hand on Tsukki’s thigh sneaks in between his legs, and his thumb massages circles into his skin. “Hey, hey, let up, Omi-kun. We wouldn’t want our little Tsukki here to get too overwhelmed, now would we?”
Sakusa humms. “I don’t know. I think Kei can handle it, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Kei’s mouth dries, his heart stops, and he almost says yes.
Almost, because he feels like his voice will break with every part of him the moment he opens his mouth.
“We can start with something simple,” Bokuto whispers, his voice low and steady.
Bokuto leans in, and with a grace that catches Tsukishima off guard, eases over his lips with his own. The shock quickly wears off and is replaced by a need for more.
It’s like there’s a snap, as if Tsukishima has been unconsciously aware that this is what he wants and it being handed over to him in a silver platter. His mind buzzes with a multitude of questions: where are the others? What are they doing? Can they really do this? Is this right?
He feels his own body respond with a sigh, and suddenly it all doesn’t matter.
“That’s right, baby,” Bokuto says. “Get into it.”
Strong hands dig into his waist. He chokes when he’s lifted from the hard surface of the bleachers onto the sturdy hold of Sakusa’s thighs. Tsukishima isn’t given time to breathe before Sakusa’s lips are on his own. Tsukishima can’t think with want so his body moves on its own accord.
His arms wrap around Sakusa’s neck and he finds himself deepening the kiss by his own volition – an implied kind of consent that Sakusa must get because he moans. He moans, and the sound reverberates across Tsukishima’s chest.
Tsukishima relaxes into the hold. Stray hands slip inside his shirt, only to lift it off. Tsukishima lets it, and he’s pleased when Bokuto’s lips nibble on one of his shoulders and Sakusa’s slide onto the other. Their hands never leave his skin and his heart is beating so fast he might die.
“Y-you too,” he forces himself to say. He grabs at both Sakusa’s and Bokuto’s shirts. “I want to s-see you too.”
Bokuto smirks. “Well, if that’s what the baby wants.”
It escalates from there. With him sandwiched between two fine, shirtless men, it’s more than what Tsukishima can dream of, it’s nothing he has ever imagined. The kisses they trail blaze in the harsh lights of the gym – and in that empty, open space, every single breath sound so loud.
“Sakusa,” Tsukishima moans, because he’s too gorgeous for his own good.
“Bokuto,” Tsukishima whispers, because he feels too good for his own sanity.
They work him in tandem and Tsukishima tries to give as much he’s given, even when he feels like it’s all too much too soon. He drinks them both in – wedging a thigh between Sakusa’s legs, trailing his fingers over Bokuto’s pecs – but it’s hazy as he’s immersed in that hot and intimate space between them. The cold air is a small relief that barely lasts.
“How do you want to do this, baby?” Bokuto asks him. Tsukishima chances him a look. His hair is already disheveled, Tsukishima hardly remembering the feel of his hair between his digits.
Tsukishima wants it all. Tsukishima wants to undress them completely, to stand them side by side if only to marvel at their beauty. He wants to touch them anywhere, everywhere. He wants them on his tongue and he wants them inside. He wants a taste.
“I want to blow you,” he says to Bokuto, because he does. He wants to make them feel as good as they were making him feel right now: basked in every bit of their attention as if there was no one else more special.
Tsukishima takes initiative. He pushes Bokuto on his back, the other boy is grinning at him as he follows. He pulls down Bokuto’s shorts and his cock spring free.
It’s massive. Its girth is thick, the veins are prominent. Tsukishima’s mouth waters just with the idea of being able to lick them, so he does. He wastes no time and quenches his thirst by dragging the tip of his tongue over the lines, making Bokuto moan and pitch his head back. He licks under the head and suckles on the tip. Bokuto’s response is a tug on Tsukishima’s hair.
There’s something about the reaction that makes Tsukishima feel proud, so pushes Bokuto’s legs even wider. He begins sucking on him in earnest, taking Bokuto in as much as he could and hollowing his cheeks as he goes back up. He sucks him careful and deliberate, wanting Bokuto to feel pleasure with every bob of his head.
Sakusa’s thumbs right under Tsukishima’s ass, under his shorts that’s been raised, just for that.
“You look so fucking sexy like this, sweetheart,” Sakusa unabashedly praises.
“Suck cock so good, too,” Bokuto adds on.
The praises set his blood on fire. He swallows Bokuto’s dick as deep as he can and spreads his legs for Sakusa, ass in the air like some kind of offering. As Bokuto sits heavy on his tongue, Sakusa trails open-mouthed kisses down his spine, ghosting hot breaths down to his hips when he pulls the rest of Tsukishima’s clothing off.
Tsukishima can only feel what’s happening behind him. His looks up to Bokuto staring him down, their eyes intense.
“Shit, Tsukki,” Bokuto curses, and Tsukishima realizes he loves having Bokuto in his mouth, and by Bokuto’s groans, he knows the other loves it just as much.
Then his ass cheeks are suddenly spread and a wet sensation comes over his hole.
Tsukishima chokes on Bokuto’s cock. The surprise had made him go deeper than he can, and saliva drips on the side of his mouth as he pulls off.
“O-Omi… what?” he croaks. Sakusa’s expression is a contrast to what they’re doing.
“You look so delicious, I can’t help myself,” Sakusa innocently says. His large hands are still on Tsukishima’s butt, keeping them apart and in place. Then, Sakusa leans in, runs his mouth through the seams of Tsukishima’s lips and over his teeth. “I can make you feel so good, baby. You know I can.”
Sakusa pushes him back down and Bokuto guides his cock to Tsukishima’s mouth once more. The blond tries his best. He tries to concentrate on Bokuto as much as he could, but as soon as Sakusa starts eating him out, he’s distracted.
The feel of his tongue going over the ridges of Tsukishima’s hole is insane. Sakusa circles the entrance meticulously a few times, kisses the puckered hole, and bites on the supple flesh of Tsukishima’s ass. Everything Sakusa does has Tsukishima moaning, and every moan from Tsukishima has Bokuto’s breath hitching.
Tsukishima’s legs shake. He wants more. He suddenly feels so empty, his insides are cold. So when Sakusa breaches his entrance with his tongue, Tsukishima almost screams, muffled only with the dick in his mouth.
The slurping sounds from behind him are obscene. It’s amazing how good it feels, how much he trembles with it. He’s scared to think that he can cum just by the prowess of Sakusa’s tongue, so he focuses on Bokuto – the way his muscles tense underneath his fingertips, and the way he calls Tsukishima’s name with reverence.
It shatters when Sakusa pushes in with his cock without warning. Inch by slow inch, and Tsukishima has to pull off again only so he can breathe. He anticipated it, but it was still a surprise, and the pain is a welcomed type of pain. It’s the type that would douse the fire in his abdomen, that burning desire to just get fucked.
He moans Kiyoomi’s name as he buries his face on Bokuto’s crotch. There isn’t enough slick for an easy slide, but it’s fine. He wants the pain. He wants it from Sakusa as raw as he could give it.
“Relax a bit more, Tsukki,” Bokuto directs. His voice is gentler than expected. He combs through Tsukki’s hair for comfort.
Sakusa squeezes his hips. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Is this good for you?”
It is. It’s so good. Mind-numbingly good. But it’s a struggle to form any words more complicated than a stuttered, “Y-yes…”
Sakusa chuckles at his cuteness. He gifts him with little kisses on his shoulder blades, and encourages him back up with an arm around his stomach.
“Put your mouth back on Koutarou, sweetheart,” the devil says. “If you can make him cum before you do, I’ll give you a special prize.”
So he does. He savours the taste of Bokuto, arches his back just a little bit more, and when his muscles settle, Sakusa starts to move.
The moment he does, he doesn’t stop. Sakusa doesn’t fuck into him powerfully, but every thrust is firm and quick and Tsukishima can literally feel him adjust with every moan. Everytime Sakusa’s cock glides into him, it’s better. The burn sizzles to the back of his mind until all Tsukishima is left with is a masochistic pleasure that makes his nerves curl from the sensation.
A few thrusts is all it takes before Sakusa finds that sweet spot – the precise bundle of nerves capable of making Tsukishima scream and hold on to for dear life. He clenches his eyes shut, nails digging onto Bokuto’s thighs. Yet his scream hasn’t even finished before Bokuto is grabbing onto the back of his neck and fucking into his mouth.
And, fuck
Fuck
Fuck
It just feels so good – so fucking good – to be used like this. Both Sakusa and Bokuto fucking into him perfectly, fulfilling the dirty dreams he never dared to have. Tsukishima’s mind is filled with lust, pain, and pleasure, senses invaded by their smells and their sounds with every grunt and whine.
“So pretty like this, Kei,” Bokuto groans. “You’re so beautiful when you’re down on all fours for us.”
“Kei, my perfect Kei,” Sakusa moans. “So tight, I don’t think I’m gonna last.”
Tsukishima drowns in the compliments; he suffocates under all the times they called his name with desire. He loves it; He loves being loved like this, and as Sakusa thrusts from behind, building the explosive feeling in his stomach, and as Bokuto thrusts from the front, forcing him out of his head and reducing him into a mess of a man with nothing left to do but experience how absolutely fantastic everything feels, Tsukishima cums hard with a long, worn-out scream.
His whole body shakes with the orgasm. His nails leave marks on Bokuto’s thighs and he clenches so tight Sakusa can only grind into him as his cums. He collapses, still foggy, when Bokuto and Sakusa jerk over him, not too far from their own. His mind hasn’t cleared when they cum, white liquid pooling together on the small of his back. Tsukishima moans at the sensation, liking that too.
Sakusa collapses besides him, and Bokuto pulls him up so Tsukishima can rest on his chest. Bokuto rubs soothing circles on Tsukishima’s arms as Sakusa starts to collect all their clothes.
“Was that good for you, baby?” Bokuto asks, gentleness back in his voice, genuine and concerned. Tsukishima is comfortable here, nestled between Bokuto’s arms.
“Mmhm,” is Tsukishima’s mindless answer.
He’s tired, and sleepy, and maybe a little bit in love.
“Let’s take you home, sweetheart,” Sakusa says, with an adoring kiss on the blond’s lips.
They clean him and dress him and carry him to the car. Somewhere along their journey back home, Tsukishima falls asleep. They end the night on a bed, cuddling and content, with Tsukishima resting peacefully between them.