Archive of Our Own

List of things that Bokuto has learned about Tsukishima by living with him:

1. If Tsukishima falls asleep on the couch and nobody takes off his glasses for him, he gets very cranky when he wakes up with little divots pressed into the bridge of his nose and the spots above his ears.

2. Despite his ‘salty’ personality, which Bokuto and Kuroo never pass up a chance to tease him about, Tsukishima loves sweet things. He takes his coffee with enough cream to make it milky, love strawberry shortcakes, and always steals a bite of everyone else’s desserts at dinner.

3. Tsukishima hates scary movies. He always has, ever since he was a kid. One time in high school, during a team bonding sleepover, he was too embarrassed to admit to his teammates that he was too afraid to watch the scary movie they wanted to put on, and when somebody’s older sister walked into the room during a suspenseful moment, it scared him so badly that he screamed loud enough to make the neighbors call the cops. He now adamantly refuses to even be in the apartment if there’s a scary movie on.

4. Tsukishima has three standing phone calls scheduled every week to make sure he doesn’t forget to stay in touch with people. Tuesday evenings are reserved for calls with his brother Akiteru, Thursdays are for calls with his best friend, Yamaguchi, and Sunday afternoons are calls with his parents.

5. When Tsukishima laughs really hard - like, really, really hard - the way he does when Akaashi whispers a joke under his breath that only the two of them can hear, most likely at Bokuto and Kuroo’s expense, his nose scrunches up like a cute little bunny. (He used to try and hide it when they all first moved in together, but over time he’s gotten much more liberal with them. It’s truly a gift.)

6. Tsukishima owns a Black Jackals jersey. But not the one with Bokuto’s name on the back, oh no. Bokuto can perfectly recall the smug, amused twinkle in Tsukishima’s eyes when he proudly presented his crisp new jersey with SAKUSA written boldly across the back of it at dinner one night. He thought it was the funniest thing in the world, and Kuroo laughed so hard that beer came out his nose. (It was, admittedly, pretty funny. Bokuto never lets him wear it though. Sakusa is a great guy and all, but just. No.)

7. Tsukishima is clingy.

By far, Bokuto’s favorite thing that he’s learned through living with him is that Tsukishima is the clingy one.

He’s subtle enough about it that if Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi didn’t all know the blonde as well as they do, they might not have even noticed all the little things he does just to be closer to them.

It was in the way that Tsukishima would come into Bokuto and Akaashi’s room to do his studying while Akaashi was watching a movie on his laptop. Tsukishima would have his headphones on, not even paying attention to Akaashi or the movie he was watching, but he would just sit there curled up beside him with his stack of textbooks for hours, not saying a word. Or in the way he would come out into the living room while Bokuto was doing his workouts, not to join in or anything, god forbid, just to sit on the couch and drink a cup of tea and scroll through his phone absentmindedly, and occasionally stand on Bokuto’s feet for him while he did crunches.

He was most clingy with Kuroo, for obvious reasons, and Bokuto never saw him more antsy and on-edge than Saturday and Sunday mornings, when Kuroo slept in late and Tsukishima, a notoriously early riser, waited for him at the kitchen table with his fingers tapping anxiously and a cup of coffee and plate of breakfast for Kuroo waiting at the spot next to him. Kuroo would eventually roll out of bed, hair a mess, eyes barely open, and immediately go to Tsukishima’s side, scooting their chairs close enough together that the lengths of their bodies could easily stay pressed together while Kuroo ate.

Tsukishima never really seemed to want to be with them for any particular reason other than to just not be alone. Well, to not be alone all by himself. He didn’t want to be entertained, or even really paid attention to, he just wanted the presence of another person there.

He was easy enough to indulge, and none of them were ever bothered by his random appearances. It was honestly cute as hell, in Bokuto’s opinion. He often found himself looking over his shoulder every few seconds whenever he knew that nobody else was home except for Tsukishima, and he expected the blonde would come seeking him out eventually, when the silence in his and Kuroo’s room became too much for him.

It was a good system the four of them had going. Bokuto and Akaashi were in their own relationship, and Kuroo and Tsukishima were in theirs, but there had always been…blurred lines between them. Even before they all moved in together, Bokuto knew the dynamics between them weren’t exactly the ‘norm’. It was difficult to explain to anyone outside of the four of them why Kuroo brought Akaashi lunch at work every day, or why Bokuto and Tsukishima held hands in the grocery store, or why sometimes if they were in a rush to get ready in the morning, any of the four of them could end up overlapping their times in the shower together.

Bokuto didn’t know what the big deal was. He and Akaashi loved each other in a way that they didn’t love anyone else, and Kuroo and Tsukishima were the same way. But Bokuto loved Kuroo and Tsukishima, too, in a way that he didn’t love the rest of his friends.

It was a unique kind of love. They were all uniquely and completely in love with each other.

The combination of Tsukishima’s clinginess and the blurred lines of the relationship between the four of them often led to Bokuto ending up with an extra body in his and Akaashi’s bed when Kuroo was away on work.

He can’t say that he minds it one bit.

(And if he maybe sorta starts to look forward to Kuroo’s business trips? Well, his best bro doesn’t need to know about that.)

In fact, he so looks forward to them that he can’t believe he forgot that Kuroo was away on business this week. He’s been so busy with training and working on a group project at the library that he’s barely been home himself, let alone realized that Kuroo wasn’t home. He’s been getting back from the library late, crashing immediately and sleeping odd hours, then waking up early and rushing to morning practice again.

His group had finally submitted their project that afternoon, so after evening practice, Bokuto went straight home, scarfed down some pasta for dinner, and passed out in his bed for the sweetest nap in the history of naps.

He’s woken some time later by a light knocking on his door.

Bokuto rubs his eyes, blearily squinting into the darkness of his room. Huh, when had the sun gone down? A quick glance at his alarm clock tells him that it’s already midnight, meaning he must have fallen asleep for a few hours longer than he intended. The bed next to him is empty, and he’s alarmed for only a second before remembering that Akaashi had warned him that he wouldn’t be back until late that night, maybe not even until the morning, since his team had a deadline approaching.

Bokuto hadn’t understood the sharp, almost warning tone to his voice when he said he wouldn’t be around that night, but when his eyes finally adjust to the darkness and he sees Tsukishima standing in his doorway, lithe silhouette backlit from the hallway, pillow hugged self-consciously to his chest, it hits him like a spike to the face.

Oh, Tsukki.

With Kuroo away, Bokuto being so busy, and Akaashi’s deadline coming up, he must have been so alone this week. Akaashi’s warning suddenly makes so much more sense.

“Tsukki!” He scrambles to sit up quickly, suddenly much more awake.

Tsukishima shifts his weight between his feet, eyes trained on the floor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were still sleeping.”

Bokuto’s heart squeezes painfully. Tsukishima must have already come looking for him earlier, but left again when he found Bokuto fast asleep.

“That’s okay! I’m wide awake now, I promise. It’s probably good that you woke me up, I didn’t mean to sleep that long anyways.” Bokuto throws back one corner of the comforter invitingly. Tsukishima starts to shuffle into the room, but suddenly freezes, wide eyes blinking rapidly from behind his glasses.

“Oh, I didn’t realize - Where’s Akaashi?”

“He has a deadline to meet tomorrow, so he’s still at the office with his team tonight finishing up their storyboard. He said he might be there all night, so if you were looking for him…” Bokuto trails off with a helpless shrug.

“I wasn’t - I wasn’t looking for him, specifically,” Tsukishima mumbles, still not making any move to walk further into the room.

Bokuto doesn't understand his hesitance at first. It isn’t uncommon for the two of them to literally just sleep together, side by side in one bed, so the fact that Tsukishima hesitated when he realized that Akaashi wasn’t there, too, could only mean one thing.

He came for sex.

For of all their blurred lines and strange relationship habits, there was one unspoken rule that none of them had ever broken before. When it came to sex, they were all in favor of sharing their boyfriends with each other every once in a while, but that was the thing: They shared boyfriends, they didn’t swap them.

“Would it still be okay if I…” Tsukishima trails off uncertainly, teeth biting into his plush bottom lip.

Still, he would never deny a very obviously lonely and desperate Tsukishima, looking so small and neglected at the foot of his bed.

“Yeah, yeah of course!” Bokuto says, maybe a little too exuberantly, patting the empty space next to him and inviting Tsukishima in.

To sleep. And just sleep. Only sleeping. Eyes closed, off in dreamland, no funny business. Bokuto was perfectly capable of that.

“It’s just, my room is kind of cold and -”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Tsukki.” Bokuto smiles and his heart melts a little at the shy grin Tsukishima offers in return. It never fails to endear him how easily Tsukishima takes what he needs from them, but how unsure he is about actually asking for it, putting it into words. “Now come on, get over here and I’ll warm you up.”

He’s not sure if he imagines the way that his words make Tsukishima shiver, bare toes curling into the carpet.

Sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep.

Bokuto barely even remembers undressing down to his boxers when he got home before diving under the covers, but he’s painfully aware of it now. Why? Why had he not just put on pajamas first like a normal person?

Not that it would have made the situation any better. He’s pretty sure he could be wearing three sweaters and still get hopelessly turned on by the feeling of Tsukishima curling up, all sweet and content under his arm, snuggling into his chest and resting delicate fingertips right over his heartbeat.

Cruel. The world is so, so cruel.

Moments like these with Tsukishima are rare blessings, Bokuto knows. Even when the blonde is following one or all of them around the apartment like a lost puppy, Tsukishima still has his snark and his wit about him. All the usual parts of his personality, just paired with the fact that he can’t stand to be more than two feet away from them.

But having been left pretty much alone the entire week clearly took its toll on Tsukishima. He was almost a different person like this, when he needed to be close to someone so badly that it made him forget to put all of his walls up.

Bokuto sucks in a sharp breath when Tsukishima nuzzles into his neck, able to get much closer now with his glasses folded up on the bedside table and out of the way. His long lashes brush along the column of his throat, light, ticklish flutters that make Bokuto’s stomach clench with the effort it takes not to roll Tsukishima right into the sheets and return the favor with kisses scattered all down his neck, over his chest, across the pale skin of his narrow hips -

Fuuuuuck.

He has half a mind to call Akaashi and beg him - literally beg him - to come home right this instant because he’s pretty sure he’s about five second away from full body combustion, and oh - okay, that’s Tsukishima’s leg throw over one of his now, thigh nestled into the V of his hips and it’s not fair. Bokuto is only human.

It’s certainly not helping his own situation that he’s been too tired every night he’s gotten home this week to even jerk himself off, let alone have sex with Akaashi. He hadn’t realized just how on edge he was until Tsukishima showed up that night, but now it was like he was on the precipice of complete and utter abandon, and with the slightest shift of his hips, Tsukishima could push him right over the edge.

“U-Uh.” He clears his throat when his voice breaks. “Tsukki? Aren’t you, um, you know, tired?”

Tsukishima shakes his head and the tip of his nose skims the underside of Bokuto’s jaw. “No,” he says quietly, his breath warm against Bokuto’s skin. “You’re not, either, are you?”

“I am! I’m exhausted, really beat! I’ll probably pass out in like, a second flat.”

Tsukishima pushes himself up onto his elbows and pouts down at Bokuto. “You just said you were wide awake a minute ago.”

“Oh.” Bokuto swallows hard, unable to tear his gaze away from Tsukishima’s big, amber eyes. “Did I say that?”

The walls that had so marvelously come down shutter back into place at the obvious lie, and Tsukishima sits up and starts to pull away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here right now.”

Bokuto groans in frustration, grabbing Tsukishima by the wrist and stopping him before he can climb out of the bed.

“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault or anything, I just… I have it under control,” Bokuto says firmly. More to himself, than Tsukishima. “Please,” he implores when Tsukishima still doesn’t crawl back under the covers. He strokes Tsukishima’s pulse point softly with the pad of his thumb, and he knows he doesn’t imagine the way the blonde full-body shivers that time. “Please stay.”

Finally, Tsukishima gives a barely perceptible nod. He slides back beneath the covers, and the movement pushes the fabric of his boxers up until they’re bunched at the tops of his pale thighs, situating himself right back into the position he was in before.

It’s quiet and dark, and being unable to see anything makes Bokuto intensely aware of all of his other senses. Mainly his sense of touch.

Tsukishima’s fingers trace nonsensical patterns across the bare skin of his pecs, and Bokuto can feel every inhale and exhale that passes his lips on the sensitive skin just underneath his ear. It’s maddening, not to mention the little shifts that Tsukishima’s body does as he tries to get comfortable, hips pushing against Bokuto’s thigh.

It’s pretty obvious that neither of them falls asleep for a very long time. Bokuto can feel the way he gets harder and harder in his boxers as each minute passes and prays that Tsukishima doesn’t move his leg too much and notice it.

As it turns out, he didn’t really have anything to be worried about.

Tsukishima rolls further onto his side, fingers wrapped around Bokuto’s bicep and face pressed into his neck. He shuffles just the slightest bit closer and - oh.

Oh. Bokuto is not the only one affected by this.

Tsukishima freezes when his hard-on presses against Bokuto’s thigh muscles and the barest, breathiest moan escapes him, right against the shell of Bokuto’s ear. Neither of them move for a long, long minute.

“Do you want me to go?” Tsukishima whispers, even as he inches closer. Bokuto knows he should probably think more carefully about what he’s going to do or say next, but there’s an underlying desperation to Tsukishima’s question that unlocks something primal in him. He grabs Tsukishima by the shoulders and easily rolls him over, pressing him into the mattress and sliding their lips together hungrily.

Tsukishima responds immediately, arms winding around Bokuto’s neck and making a high-pitched whining noise in the back of his throat; the kind that Bokuto knows he would be too embarrassed of and try to hold back if he had more presence of mind.

“Sorry,” Tsukishima’s breaks their kiss to gasp. “I’m sorry, I - I really didn’t know that Akaashi wasn’t here. I just - I just wanted -” He breaks off, averting his eyes guiltily.

Bokuto laughs and drops his head, the front pieces of his hair hanging in his face and brushing across Tsukishima’s forehead. “Yeah, I think I figured out what you wanted.”

“I’m sorry,” Tsukishima blurts out again, face going pink.

“Hey, stop apologizing,” Bokuto orders gently. He’d say just about anything to get that ashamed look off his face right now. “I’m glad you came, yeah? I never want you to feel like you can’t come to me with whatever you need.”

If anything, Tsukishima’s face only goes a darker shade of pink.

“It’s just… I was trying to fall asleep, and I just couldn’t stop thinking…” Tsukishima licks his lips and something in his gaze when he looks up at Bokuto again makes his stomach fizzle low with anticipation.

“Thinking what?” He sounds a little breathless, but he doesn’t even care.

Tsukishima lowers his lashes and traces a fingertip down the side of Bokuto’s face. “I was just thinking about how Kuroo is coming home tomorrow, and how much I missed him…”

“Uh huh.” Bokuto swallows.

“And I was thinking…” Tsukishima’s fingertip reaches Bokuto’s mouth, mapping out the shape of his lips with light touches that send tingles down his spine. “It would be a nice surprise for him if when he got here,” he lowers his gaze almost shyly, voice dropping to a whisper that Bokuto has to strain to hear, “I was all ready for him.”

“That - oh,” Bokuto says faintly.

He tries, he really does, not to let his imagination take over at that point. But he knows perfectly well exactly what Tsukishima looks like when he’s all stretched out and ready for one (or all) of them, and he can’t stop himself from picturing the way he would reveal himself to Kuroo slowly, the coy flutter of his lashes and the hunger on Kuroo’s face when he realized what Tsukishima had done. Shit, Bokuto really hopes that Kuroo’s welcome home surprise is a group event, because he would do some pretty messed up things to be in that room.

“I could have done it myself,” Tsukishima continues. “But I thought that if you and Akaashi were home anyways…”

“You thought that the two of us could get you all nice and stretched out?”

Tsukishima ducks his head, and Bokuto can see the blush goes all the way to the tips of his ears. “It sounds so - so dirty when you say it like that!”

“Dirty?” Bokuto repeats. He lowers himself onto his elbows and nudges Tsukishima’s chin up to meet his gaze. “No, no, sweetheart. I think that’s really thoughtful of you.”

Tsukishima blinks owlishly up at him. “Y-yeah?”

“Mhm,” Bokuto hums, ducking down to capture Tsukishima’s lips again. The blonde sighs happily, arching his body to bring their bodies even closer.

It’s nothing but kissing. They still haven’t technically done anything other than kissing, but… But Bokuto wants to. He wants to so, so badly.

His head is fuzzy, vision narrowing until the only thing he can see, the only thing he’s aware of is Tsukishima beneath him, boxer shorts pushed up to the crease of his thigh and oversized t-shirt hanging off one of his shoulders. He wants to sink his teeth into the exposed skin of his shoulder, wants to rid the blonde of his boxers completely and stretch him out as slowly and sweetly as Tsukishima deserves.

“I’ll do it,” he murmurs against Tsukishima’s lips.

“Really?” Tsukishima breathes. “Do you… Do you think Akaashi would be okay with this?”

Bokuto sits back up on his knees, giving himself some space to think. It’s not really his strong suit, he’s more of an instinct person, but this isn’t something he can just run headfirst into without giving it some thought first.

Fact: Bokuto loves Akaashi. He loves Akaashi more than anything else in this entire world, and he would never do anything that might hurt him.

Fact: Akaashi loves Tsukishima. They’re all in their twenties now, and Akaashi still babies and spoils Tsukishima more than anyone else, even Kuroo.

Fact: If Bokuto were to send Tsukishima, looking as lost and lonely as he does now, back to his cold and empty bed, he can’t imagine Akaashi would be very happy with him.

“I think Akaashi would be pretty mad if he found out that you needed me and I didn’t take care of you,” Bokuto concludes honestly.

Tsukishima smiles, something gentle and fond. “Akaashi really is too good to us, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Bokuto’s heart swells. “He really is.”

“We’ll make it up to him,” Tsukishima promises, hands already slowly making their way down Bokuto’s back, nails pressing light lines into the muscles there. Bokuto shivers and lets more of his weight press down on Tsukishima, shifts until the hard length of their cocks are perfectly aligned and rolls his hips with a downward thrust. “Shit!” Tsukishima’s nails dig in especially hard. “Fuck, shit, Bokuto, please, please.”

“I’ve got you.” Bokuto can’t help but smile into the skin of Tsukishima’s neck. He doesn’t say ‘please’ often, but when he does… Well, Akaashi definitely wouldn’t fault him for giving in to this.

Bokuto has always been bigger than Tsukishima, ever since they were high schoolers and Tsukishima had twigs for arms that Bokuto was worried about snapping clean in two with one of his spikes. The differences between them only got more pronounced over the years, with Bokuto’s physical training for volleyball only getting more intense, and Tsukishima focusing more on his studies with the same bird-like appetite he’s always had.

Bokuto always enjoys noticing the juxtaposition between their bodies, whether he’s wrapping his arms around Tsukishima’s narrow waist from behind while he cooks, or they’re simply sitting next to each other on the couch and Bokuto can compare the amount of space their thighs take up.

Nothing else even comes close to being as satisfying as this: Tsukishima laid out nearly bare on the bed underneath him, with Bokuto’s much broader body caging him in completely like a solar eclipse.

Bokuto manages to pry Tsukishima’s legs from around him just long enough to slide his boxers down his lean legs and throw them somewhere over his shoulder, so that now he’s laying there in just his t-shirt. Even the fact that he isn’t wearing his glasses makes him look all the more exposed. Bokuto slides a hand underneath the hem of his shirt and splays one hand across Tsukishima’s abdomen, just to see the way his palm covers almost the entire expanse. He feels the muscles of Tsukishima’s stomach tremble under his touch.

“Do something,” Tsukishima whispers. Bokuto keeps his hand flat on Tsukishima’s stomach and holds him still, ignoring the hard cock curved up against his hipbone, even as the blonde starts to writhe impatiently.

“You in some kind of rush?”

Tsukishima huffs exasperatedly, and the little exhale of air flutters the longer strands of his hair that fall across his forehead. “A little bit, actually, thanks for asking” he says, some of his usual snark bleeding through in his impatience. Bokuto grins.

“Liar.” Bokuto drags his hand down Tsukishima’s stomach over his hips, still avoiding his cock. “You looooove it when we make it long and drawn out for you. It’s just more time you get to spend with our hands on you.”

“That - That’s not - As if!” Tsukishima sputters, face a bright cherry red color.

“It’s okay.” Bokuto caresses the side of his thigh, thumb resting in the hollow of his hip. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, hm? We’re definitely not complaining.”

“Whatever.” Tsukishima turns his face away petulantly, but still pushes his hips into Bokuto’s hands.

Bokuto teases him for a little while longer, because no matter what Tsukishima says, he does know that the blonde enjoys the soft touches intended to work him up just as much as he enjoys actually getting a hand on his cock or a few fingers inside of him. He holds himself up on one arm, ignoring the strain in his muscles because it’s so worth it to be able to look down and see the light twitches and jerks that Tsukishima’s body gives as Bokuto maps out every inch of his skin with featherlight touches. Underneath the material of his shirt, across the ridges of his ribcage, down the sensitive insides of his thighs - every single place that he can reach.

Each touch a reminder, I’m here with you. You’re not alone.

Face flushed, eyes unfocused on Bokuto’s face, Tsukishima mumbles something under his breath that Bokuto doesn’t catch.

“What was that?” He leans down to get closer. Tsukishima scowls and looks away, gaze trained on the ceiling over Bokuto’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he repeats himself quietly.

Bokuto’s hand stops its ministrations, pulling back completely and sitting up. Tsukishima still won’t meet his eyes, so he probably can’t see the clear adoration written across Bokuto’s face right now, but oh, he knows that it’s there.

“Don’t ever thank me for this.” Bokuto cups Tsukishima’s cheek and forces their eyes to meet. “Never, okay?”

Tsukishima’s lips tilt into a little grin. “So bossy.”

Bokuto laughs and smacks the side of Tsukishima’s thigh playfully. “Do you want me to touch you or not, huh?”

Tsukishima lets out a little squeak when Bokuto’s hand lands on his skin with a dull smacking sound, cheeks going bright pink. “Yes, please,” he whispers.

Another ‘please’? It really is Bokuto’s lucky night.

He hitches one of Tsukishima’s long legs over his shoulder, and the blonde wraps the other one around his waist. Tsukishima bites his lip and looks up at Bokuto from beneath lowered lashes, and heat pools in his lower abdomen at the gorgeous sight. He grabs the lube from the top drawer in his nightside table and drizzles some of it over just his first two fingers.

Bokuto traces teasing circles around the ring of muscle with the lightest touch of his fingertips that make Tsukishima glare at him. The effect of it is kind of lost though, with how heavy his breaths are coming out and the way he wiggles his hips desperately, trying to take from Bokuto what he isn’t being given.

“Fuck, just put them in already!”

“Who’s bossy now?” Bokuto teases.

“Bokuto, I swear to god - ohhhh.” Tsukishima breaks off on a low groan of surprise and pleasure when Bokuto suddenly pushes one finger in down to the second knuckle, his leg tightening around Bokuto’s waist. “God, yes.”

Tsukishima’s body always opens up so easily to him like this.

Bokuto holds Tsukishima by the hip to stop him from trying to push Bokuto’s finger further inside of him. Tsukishima lets out a displeased huff, but it quickly slides off of his face when Bokuto pushes his finger in down to the last knuckle.

Bokuto’s cock gives an interested twitch at the broken sound that comes out of Tsukishima’s mouth, and he adds a second finger right away to try and drag another one out of him.

It works.

“O-Oh,” Tsukishima moans, hips straining against Bokuto’s hold.

“Good?” Bokuto asks, voice low and gravelly. Tsukishima nods emphatically. “Mmm, I know, that’s much better, isn’t it? This what you wanted, huh? Is this close enough for ya, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” Tsukishima gasps when Bokuto curls his finger inside him. “Thank you, thank you, this is - is what I - I wanted - I - Oh! There, there, right there!”

Bokuto grins to himself and makes sure to look Tsukishima right in the eye as he purposely curls his fingers away from his prostate. “Here?” He asks innocently.

“N- Nuh - Bokuto!”

“Here?” He misses it again. Tsukishima’s eyes start to pool with frustrated tears.

“Stop it!”

“You could try asking nicely,” Bokuto suggests.

Tsukishima sucks in a harsh breath, legs trembling where they’re wrapped around Bokuto’s body. He’s so pretty and needy like this, Bokuto is pretty sure if Tsukishima doesn’t cave first, he’s not going to last much longer anyways. He’s never been good at denying Tsukishima anything.

Finally, Tsukishima meets Bokuto’s gaze with his own watery eyes, and in a trembling voice whispers, “Koutarou. I need you. Please.”

Bokuto groans, turning and burying his face in Tsukishima’s thigh. The combined effect of Tsukishima saying his name so sweetly and that lovely little ‘please’ sends a jolt of arousal through Bokuto so powerful that he’s almost afraid he’s going to come in his boxers, right then and there.

There’s not a force in heaven or hell that could have stopped Bokuto from giving Tsukishima what he needed after that.

“I know, I know you do baby, I’m gonna give you everything you need.” Bokuto ducks down to kiss Tsukishima again, a messy, frantic slide of lips.

He messily pours some lube over a third finger, before pushing it in alongside the first two and thrusts them in and out in quick, forceful jabs that are hell on his wrist but entirely and completely worth it for the way that Tsukishima writhes and screams when each thrust has Bokuto’s fingers brushing directly over his prostate. He starts to babble incoherently, the way he does when he’s edging closer and closer to his tipping point, and it’s music to Bokuto’s ears.

“Please, please, please, please, please, please,” Tsukishima begs and Bokuto doesn’t think even he knows what he’s asking for. “Please, please - ah! Ah, ah - I -” Tsukishima’s body arches, pulled taut as a bow, and he’s close now, Bokuto can tell. If he just presses his fingers a little harder -

“Am I interrupting something?”

Bokuto is so surprised by the appearance of another person that he quickly withdraws his fingers from Tsukishima, wincing in sympathy when the blonde whines pitifully. Yeah, he probably could have been a little gentler than that, except he’s a little too busy trying to keep his heart from jumping out of his throat, because what the fuck, Akaashi?

“Jeez, babe!” Bokuto clutches his chest dramatically with the hand that isn’t covered in lube. “A little heads up next time wouldn’t hurt.”

Akaashi shrugs one shoulder with an amused smile. “I’m certain you would have heard me coming if Kei wasn’t quite so loud when he’s coming.”

Bokuto laughs and feels the body under him go stiff as a board. He look back at Tsukishima, a teasing comment on the tip of his tongue, but instead all that leaves his mouth is a grunt of shock as he’s suddenly very forcefully shoved to the foot of the bed.

“I’m - I’m so sorry.” Tsukishima’s voice sounds close to breaking as he scrambles off the bed, face scarlet red and eyes downcast.

“What - Where are you going?” Bokuto watches with wide, confused eyes and a painful pang in his chest as Tsukishima makes for the door, refusing to meet either of their eyes and ignoring Bokuto’s question. He stops in the doorway next to Akaashi, still not looking up. Akaashi’s expression is carefully neutral as he regards the top of Tsukishima’s head.

“Akaashi, I -” Tsukishima bites his lip, unable to finish the sentence. “Shit, I fucked it all up,” he whispers miserably. He goes to move past Akaashi and out the door, but before Bokuto can even jump out of the bed to try and stop him, Akaashi catches him with a hand around his wrist. It doesn’t look to be a particularly strong hold, but Tsukishima freezes all the same.

Nobody says anything for a few beats, the only sound in the room being Tsukishima’s ragged breathing. Finally, Akaashi’s face breaks into something so, so terribly adoring that it makes Bokuto’s heart hurt.

Bokuto knows that Akaashi loves him the most, and he knows that Akaashi loves Kuroo in his own way, too. But he also knows that Akaashi has a very soft spot for pretty things, and Tsukishima is his absolute favorite pretty thing.

“Oh, Kei,” he says, and Bokuto watches the way his thumb rubs calming circles into the thin skin of the underside of Tsukishima’s wrist. “Do you think I’m angry with you?”

Tsukishima’s sharp intake of air is audible. “You - Aren’t you?” He asks in a tiny voice. Akaashi smiles reassuringly at him and guides his hand up to his mouth so that he can place a tender kiss in the same spot his thumb had been tracing circles. Without a single word, the answer to that question is extremely apparent.

Bokuto doesn’t know what Tsukishima is so surprised for. He did tell him already that Akaashi wouldn’t be mad.

“Of course not,” Akaashi says, and Tsukishima is so visibly relieved that he drops his head onto Akaashi’s shoulder. Akaashi rolls his eyes fondly and meets Bokuto’s gaze over the blonde’s shoulder. “This is what I expected to happen all along. Didn’t I, Koutarou?”

Bokuto grins and nods emphatically. It took him a while to pick up on it, but Akaashi had warned Bokuto exactly what was going to happen when he left for work that day. He knew that Tsukishima was going to need him, and that Bokuto could never deny Tsukishima anything he needed.

Really, Akaashi was far too smart for his own good.

“Besides,” his boyfriend continues, “I was really just waiting for the day that someone would slip up and we could finally address this whole thing.”

Tsukishima picks his head up from Akaashi’s shoulder, nose scrunched up cutely in confusion. He looks to Bokuto for clarification, but honestly, he doesn’t have any more idea what’s going on in his boyfriend’s head than anyone else. Bokuto shrugs and Tsukishima turns back to Akaashi.

“Address what?”

“Kei, did having sex with Koutarou make you love Tetsurou any less?” Akaashi asks patiently. Tsukishima’s eyes go immediately wide and horrified.

“What? No, of course not!”

“And are you trying to steal my boyfriend from me?” Akaashi asks, this time with a little more of an underlying harness to his voice that - yeah, Bokuto is definitely still fully erect, despite the interruption. Tsukishima glances over at Bokuto before laughing under his breath and shaking his head.

“That’s gonna be a no.”

“Hey!” Bokuto protests, more to break the tension and make the other two men crack smiles than anything else.

“Then I’m not mad,” Akaashi concludes simply. “See? What’s the big deal? It’s just sex. We do way more intimate things with each in our every day lives.”

“More intimate than sex?” Bokuto gapes. Akaashi raises an unamused eyebrow at him.

“When were were out at dinner the other night, you and Kuroo spent nearly ten minutes hand-feeding each other spaghetti.”

“It was a mess,” Bokuto agrees, grinning at the memory. They had gotten red sauce everywhere and Tsukishima was really annoyed at them, until they ordered him a big dessert as an apology. “Okay, I see your point.”

“But,” Tsukishima frowns. “It isn’t ‘just sex’… Is it?”

Akaashi’s eyes widen. “Oh, no, that’s not - I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I think,” Bokuto says slowly, working it out in his mind and choosing his next words carefully. “What Akaashi means is that between the four of us, it’s ‘just sex’, because we show how much we love each other in different ways. Right, Keiji?” He turns hopeful eyes on his boyfriend who smiles proudly at him and makes Bokuto’s chest pool with a happy warmth.

“That’s exactly it. Do you see now, Kei?”

Tsukishima nods, but there’s still a troubled expression on his face.

“I’m still sorry, though. I shouldn’t have done anything without asking you fir - mmph!”

Bokuto sighs contently and leans back against the headboard, watching Akaashi’s gentle yet demanding mouth kiss the apology right out of Tsukishima’s mouth.

Tsukishima goes a bit rigid with shock for a second, but he quickly melts into the kiss, fisting hands into the front of Akaashi’s work shirt and leaning into him. Bokuto can see the way Akaashi smiles against Tsukishima’s pliant lips, and the little hint of passing pink tongues between their mouths that makes his blood run hot. He slips the still lube-covered hand beneath the waistband of his shorts and strokes himself lazily as he watches the two gorgeous men in front of him making out.

Akaashi’s hand starts at the small of Tsukishima’s back, and Bokuto tracks it with rapt attention as it slowly moves its way up his spine, between his shoulder blades, the back of his neck, before tangling into his blonde hair and grabbing. A desperate, choked off sound escapes Tsukishima and Bokuto can’t hold back his own groan, head thunking back against the headboard and hand squeezing the base of his cock tightly.

When he’s calmed enough that he’s sure he isn’t going to come in his boxers, he opens his eyes and finds two gazes trained on him.

Tsukishima’s eyes are a bit dazed and unfocused as Akaashi continues to move his hand underneath his t-shirt, scratching lightly over Tsukishima’s hips and lower belly, rucking up the fabric enough that Bokuto can see where his cock stands fully hard again. Akaashi’s gaze is much sharper and more attentive. Bokuto shivers, knowing what that look means in the bedroom.

His eyes flicker down from Bokuto’s face to where his fist is wrapped around his cock in the confines of his boxers, a little grin spreading.

“I should be the one apologizing here, don’t you think? It looks like I interrupted you right at the good part.”

Tsukishima clutches at Akaashi’s arm and whines again at the memory of being so abruptly denied.

“I was -” He shudders as Akaashi’s nails scratch over his hipbone, cock twitching. “I was close. So close,” he admits in a whisper.

Akaashi hums sympathetically, looking back to Bokuto again, keeping their eyes locked even as he continued to speak to Tsukishima.

“I’m sure you were, sweetheart. It looked like Kou was fingering you so well, wasn’t he?” Akaashi smiles all sweet and honeyed at Bokuto and he feels his stomach muscles tighten with arousal. “He’s so good at it, isn’t he? Good enough that you were going to come just like that, with nothing but his fingers up your ass.”

There’s something dizzyingly arousing about Akaashi’s calm and composed voice saying such filthy things. Tsukishima obviously feels it, too, his knees practically giving out beneath him, dropping his head to Akaashi’s shoulder again and burying his face in his neck. Akaashi just wraps an arm around his waist to support him, still not looking away from Bokuto.

“It’s his fingers, right?” Akaashi pets Tsukishima’s hair innocently, in sharp contrast to his words. “They’re just so thick and they fill you up so much better than your own, until you don’t think you can possibly take it anymore. I know the feeling very, very well.”

Bokuto swallows hard as Akaashi’s gaze turns heated. He knows for a fact that his fingers are much thicker than Akaashi and Tsukishima’s, both men have told him so numerous times, but it never gets less thrilling, hearing out loud just how much they love the way he fingers them. He would be perfectly happy doing nothing but pleasing the two of them for the rest of his life, in all honesty.

“Yes,” Tsukishima whispers, barely audible.

“Well then,” Akaashi smiles placidly. “Don't let me stop you. Please, feel free to get back to it.”

“Wha - Really? Are you sure?” Tsukishima wrings his hands together, a nervous habit of his.

“You don’t think I’m so cruel that I’d send you back to bed alone like this, do you?” Akaashi asks.

He gives Tsukishima a gentle nudge towards the bed, and without Akaashi for support, the blonde stumbles like a newborn foal on wobbly legs. Bokuto instinctively scoots down the bed and reaches out for him. Akaashi smiles, and Bokuto knows that was the right thing to do.

“What about you?” Tsukishima asks, letting Bokuto ease him into his lap, shuddering when the length of his erection, still trapped in his boxers, nestles between Tsukishima’s cheeks.

“Hm? Me?” Akaashi repeats, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and undoing the first few buttons. “There’s something I need to grab really quickly.” He waves a dismissive hand on his way out the door. “But you two get started while I’m gone, okay?”

It’s posed as a question, but both Bokuto and Tsukishima know it wasn’t really a request.

Not that Bokuto would be able to stop himself from tugging Tsukishima further up the bed with him, long legs still straddling his lap, and reaching a hand behind the blonde to tease a finger at his still slightly sticky and stretched out hole. Tsukishima’s arms wind around his neck, knocking their foreheads together and exhaling harshly so that Bokuto can feel his breath fan across his face.

“Feel better now?” He coos, petting Tsukishima’s hole in teasing little motions.

“Would feel - ah - a lot better if you put your fingers back in me already.”

Bokuto grins and tilts his head to press a kiss to the tip of Tsukishima’s nose.

“Your wish is my command, darling.”

Now that he was sure Akaashi was okay with this, Bokuto could see the last of Tsukishima’s walls crumbling away. It was like he was giving himself full permission to feel good again without any of the lingering guilt in the back of his mind, pulling Bokuto into a wet, open-mouthed kiss while shamelessly grinding himself back onto the two fingers that Bokuto had slipped back inside of him.

It’s only a few minutes at most before Akaashi returns, but Bokuto already has Tsukishima’s legs trembling, their kisses nothing more than Tsukishima panting heavily into his mouth. The noises Tsukishima’s making as he rocks against Bokuto’s body are so loud, he doesn’t even notice that Akaashi has returned until he feels the bed dip and spots in his peripheral deep teal eyes staring at the place where Bokuto’s digits disappear into Tsukishima’s body with a barely-veiled hunger.

Based on the way Tsukishima jolts when Akaashi’s hand trails down his spine, he hadn’t noticed the other man joining them until that moment.

“Kei-ji,” Tsukishima whines brokenly into Bokuto’s mouth, and yeah, that’s fucking hot. “Wanna come. You - mmm - you owe me.”

Akaashi raises an amused eyebrow, brushing some of Tsukishima’s hair off of his sweaty forehead. “I owe you, huh?”

“Yes,” Tsukishima growls, and Bokuto can feel the vibrations against his lips. Again, fucking hot. If this situation gets any hotter, he’s pretty sure he’s going to burst into flames.

“Then come. Just like this.”

Tsukishima makes a quiet sound of confusion. “But - But aren’t you -”

“Going to fuck you?” Akaashi laughs and kisses Tsukishima’s temple, leaning in so that his lips are against his ear, whispering just loud enough for Bokuto to make out: “No.”

No?

Akaashi raises an eyebrow at him and Bokuto realizes he said that out loud.

“Ummm,” he hedges. “So, if you’re not gonna fuck him…”

“You’re not going to either.”

Bokuto tries not to pout, but he knows he fails. He was very much looking forward to getting Tsukishima on his dick at some point tonight. Preferably after already making the blonde come once from his fingers, because Tsukishima was always much louder and more desperate when he was already oversensitive from a first orgasm.
“Is it because…” Tsukishima starts in a soft, vulnerable voice that immediately grabs both men’s attention. “Am I being punished?” His lower lip wobbles ever so slightly.

“No, no, no, sweetheart,” Akaashi coos, cupping Tsukishima’s cheeks in his hands. “You told me the other day you wanted to do something for Kuroo when he gets home, so I just assumed this was part of it. And I figured it wouldn’t be very good manners if we opened his gift before even giving it to him.”

He holds up a pretty glass butt plug with a delicate pink rose design at the end of it. Bokuto recognizes it as one of Tsukishima’s favorites. So that’s what Akaashi had gone to get.

“Oh,” Tsukishima breathes, and it sounds equal parts relieved and excited.

If Bokuto hadn’t been able to hear the excitement in Tsukishima’s voice, he still would have been able to feel it in the way the blonde’s velvety walls clenched around his fingers.

“But, what about you guys?” Tsukishima frowns. “You won’t get anything out of it.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Bokuto muses, crooking his fingers and grinning delightedly when Tsukishima spasms in his lap. “I’m having plenty of fun.”

Akaashi hums to himself, one hand still resting on Tsukishima’s cheek and the other coming up to thread into Bokuto’s hair. Bokuto tilts his head into the touch, watching Akaashi with anticipation. He knows that whatever his boyfriend says is exactly what he and Tsukishima will do. That’s just how things go around here, and no one has any complains about it.

“How about this: After Koutarou gets Kei off his fingers and we get him nice and plugged up, I’ll suck him off, and then Kei can suck me off. Sound fair?”

Bokuto is pretty sure has the best life. Ever.

When Tsukishima wakes up in Bokuto and Akaashi’s bed, he knows exactly where he is right away. He’s spent enough nights there that he doesn’t even have to open his eyes to recognize the smell of the lavender spray that Akaashi mists over their pillowcases to help him sleep, or the throw blanket that’s woven instead of soft and cottony like his and Kuroo’s.

After a few moments of just breathing in the subtle scent of lavender, Tsukishima slowly blinks his eyes open. Bokuto and Akaashi are both already awake, curled up next to him like parentheses bending towards each other. Bokuto’s hands are splayed across Akaashi’s cheekbones, fingers tracing the delicate skin beneath his eyes like he’s trying to count each and every one of his dark lashes. Akaashi smiles tender and sleepy at him, hands tucked between their chests.

It would be the picture-perfect sweet and domestic scene, if it wasn’t for the angry red claw marks down Bokuto’s back that Tsukishima knows he put there.

Akaashi catches his eye over Bokuto’s shoulder and his smile stays just as soft.

“Morning, Kei. How do you feel?”

Tsukishima turns towards them and feels the glass plug shift inside him. He bites down on his tongue to hold back a whine at the sensation and the flood of memories that accompany it.

Bokuto’s fingers pushing up into him, filling him up - two fingers, three, four of them, while Tsukishima could do nothing but hold onto him for dear life and thrust back onto him the best that his molten jelly limbs would allow. Akaashi’s fingers in his hair, kissing his cheek, whispering praises in his ear while tears spilled down his cheeks. The cracked cadence of his voice as he cried, begged and Bokuto’s bright, earnest eyes when he said, “It’s okay, you can let go, we have you.”

It only took an embarrassingly quick two strokes of Akaashi’s hand for Kei to come all over Akaashi’s fingers and Bokuto’s stomach.

True to Akaashi’s plan, Bokuto eased his fingers out of Tsukishima after he finished orgasming, and Akaashi immediately replaced them with the butt plug. The two of them spent a few more minutes fussing over him, the way they always did when Tsukishima cried, and he let them for a little while. Then, Akaashi maneuvered Bokuto to the edge of the bed and knelt down on the ground between his legs, pulled his boxers down his legs and took his thick, dripping cock between his lips.

Tsukishima’s mouth watered a bit enviously. Bokuto was the largest out of the four of them, and there was no other feeling quite like the weight of it on your tongue, the girth of it stretching the corners of your lips until you feel like the skin will crack. But equally enjoyable was getting to see Akaashi’s long, dark eyelashes flutter prettily against his cheekbones, the quiet, content hums he made in the back of his throat that made Bokuto groan and throw his head back so sharply, Tsukishima was afraid he’d snap his own neck.

He wasn’t sure what he had wanted to watch more: Bokuto’s blissed out face, or the drool spilling down Akaashi’s chin. Really, there was no bad option.

And when Bokuto finished down Akaashi’s throat, and some of his come landed on Akaashi’s pristine button down shirt, Tsukishima couldn’t get the dark-haired man out of his pants fast enough.

There was always something very empowering about sucking Akaashi’s dick. It didn’t seem like a position where one would feel that way, but Akaashi was always so composed and in control, that Tsukishima loved getting to see him fall apart.

Akaashi made them all shower afterwards, even though Tsukishima had already been so bone-tired he could barely keep his eyes open. Bokuto carried him princess-style into the en suite, and Tsukishima complained half-heartedly, but wound his arms around Bokuto’s neck and laid his head on his shoulder. He must have fallen asleep like that. He doesn’t recall actually washing himself off, but he feels perfectly clean now, none of that post-sex tacky, sweatiness clinging to his skin.

“Fine,” Tsukishima rasps, and oh, letting (read: begging) Akaashi to fuck his throat had really done a number on him. He shifts his hips again, feeling the press of the plug inside him. “Full.”

“Hungry,” Bokuto whines, even though no one asked him.

Akaashi rolls his eyes. “If you go put the coffee on now, I’ll be down in five minutes to make breakfast.”

Tsukishima lets his eyes fall closed again, blindly reaching out across the vacant space that Bokuto left in the bed. Akaashi finds his hand and intertwines their fingers, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of Tsukishima’s inner wrist the same way he had the night before. It’s quiet and peaceful, save for the sounds of Bokuto fumbling around in the kitchen, and Tsukishima feels himself start to drift back off to sleep.

All too soon, Akaashi is poking him in the middle of the forehead to wake him up and nudge him out of bed, into an old pair of Bokuto’s sweatpants and his own t-shirt, and out of the bedroom.

There are already three steaming cups of coffee sitting on the counter, all perfectly made to each person’s taste, and Bokuto beams proudly when they tell him as much. Tsukishima helps Akaashi with breakfast while Bokuto sits on the counter and randomly traps them with his legs and pulls them in for sloppy kisses on the cheeks. They sit at the table to eat, then move into the living room to sit on the couch with their coffees, Bokuto in the middle with Akaashi’s head on his shoulder and Tsukishima’s legs in his lap.

Some stupid show is playing on the TV, but Tsukishima doesn’t pay attention to a single second of it.

Any minute now, he thinks, picking up his phone and checking the time for the hundredth time that morning.

Tsukishima always misses Kuroo when he’s gone, not that he would ever admit it to him in so many words (not in the light of day, or with too many witnesses around, at least.) But this week had been especially hard on him. It wasn’t Akaashi and Bokuto’s faults, Tsukishima knows that they both have their own very busy schedules and can’t be expected to be waiting around the apartment for him at all hours of the day, just in case he needs to be with someone.

Last night had helped. It had helped a lot, but still, there was a part of Tsukishima that wouldn’t feel totally in place until he saw Kuroo again.

Finally, after what feels like hours later, the lazy silence of the room is broken by the sound of the front door lock clicking open. Tsukishima holds his breath.

“I’m home, beautiful people!” Kuroo’s wonderful voice floats through the apartment and soaks into Tsukishima’s bones.

“Woah!” Bokuto laughs, grabbing Tsukishima’s coffee cup before it can go flying off the table. Tsukishima hadn’t even realized how quickly he shot to his feet, already halfway out of the room. He pauses in place, face flushing.

All thoughts of being embarrassed quickly fly out the window, however, the moment Kuroo walks into the living room, clothes rumpled from the flight and hair sticking up at odd angles, probably from sleeping on the plane. His eyes soften, a smile splitting his face when he sees Tsukishima. He drops his bags and spreads his arms wide.

“Hello, honey,” he says, and that’s all it takes for Tsukishima to fall into his arms.

Kuroo is warm and he smells like airplane peanuts and Tsukishima can feel the vibrations in his chest when he chuckles into the top of his head and it’s the only place in the world he wants to be.

“Miss me, then?” He teases.

“You wish,” Tsukishima mutters, but it’s slightly muffled from where his face is buried in Kuroo’s neck. It’s pretty weak, as far as his usual comebacks go, but he can’t really find it in himself to care. Not when Kuroo is back, Kuroo is here and holding him and that’s all that matters.

He’s vaguely aware of Akaashi and Bokuto maneuvering around him to get welcome back hugs and kisses from Kuroo of their own, and he’s suddenly reminded by a nagging little thought at the back of his head.

He pulls away abruptly, and the other three men look at him curiously.

“I had sex with Bokuto last night.”

Like ripping off a band-aid.

Kuroo blinks at him and Bokuto winces. Akaashi just watches carefully, his usual neutral mask in place.

“That’s nice for you?” Kuroo’s eyebrows furrow, obviously confused.

“And Akaashi wasn’t there. At least, at first he wasn’t.”

“Oh. I see.” Kuroo’s smile falters.

Tsukishima takes a tentative step back towards Kuroo. “How does that make you…feel?”

A myriad of emotions flash across Kuroo’s face, too quickly for anyone to catch, but Tsukishima feels the tension start to bleed out of the room, feels himself start to relax, when he realizes that none of them are anger.

“I’m not sure,” Kuroo says finally. “Is that okay?”

Tsukishima nods and steps closer to kiss him while Akaashi responds, “That’s perfectly okay, Kuroo, there’s no right or wrong reaction here.”

“It didn’t change anything,” Tsukishima murmurs against Kuroo’s lips, fingers splayed across his jaw and willing him to know what he’s trying to say without him actually having to say it.

It didn’t change how much I love you. Most of all, I love you.

After so many years together, Kuroo smiles and nods, their noses bumping together, and Tsukishima knows he understood perfectly.

Kuroo tucks Tsukishima under his arm, pressing a final kiss to the top of his head. “It was only a week you know, you guys could have waited until I got back to ravage my poor boyfriend.” He chastises them all teasingly.

“But then you wouldn’t have gotten your welcome home present!” Bokuto protests. Kuroo’s eyebrows shoot up and Tsukishima feels his face coloring. He shifts his weight between his feet and suddenly becomes very aware of the plug still inside him and Akaashi’s knowing smirk burning into the side of his head.

“A present?” Kuroo knocks his forehead into Tsukishima’s, eyes lighting up. “You got something for me, babe?”

“Of sorts,” Akaashi answers calmly in Tsukishima’s stead. His smirk spreads wider. “Why don’t you show him, Kei?”

Tsukishima swallows. “Uh, right - right now?”

“Why not? It’s not like Koutarou and I haven’t already seen it anyways.”

“Everyone’s seen the present except me?” Kuroo pouts and squeezes Tsukishima’s hip. “Aw, come on, just show me what it is! You know I hate being left out. I’m sure whatever it is, I’m gonna love it,” he promises.

“I’m sure you will,” Akaashi snickers and Bokuto bursts into laughter. Tsukishima knows the teasing will only get worse until he just gives in.

“Fine,” he grumbles. Face still flushed, he hooks his thumbs into Bokuto’s borrowed sweatpants that were already falling down his narrow hips anyways.

Akaashi stops him with a hand wrapped around his arm.

“Don’t you think it would be better if you let Tetsurou unwrap his gift himself, hm?”

Kuroo’s eyes widen slowly in realization, pupils growing wider. Hungrier.

“I see. So it’s that kind of present.” His eyes trail Tsukishima’s body, lingering at the low-riding sweatpants. “I definitely want to open that one myself.”

There are a few more half-hearted protests that die on Tsukishima’s tongue when Akaashi gently but firmly begins to maneuver him, leading him over to the coffee table, pushing at the space between his shoulder blades until he’s bent at the waist over it with his hands holding him up and a slight arch to his back. Akaashi hums, satisfied, and steps away when he’s finished. Tsukishima keeps his eyes trained on the wood underneath him, but he can feel it when Kuroo steps up right behind him. Can practically feel his body heat through the sweatpants.

It’s a terribly exposing position, and Tsukishima knows it’s only going to get more exposing.

It’s humiliating and thrilling and he would never in a million years let himself be seen like this by anyone but these three men, who he knows love him and would never do anything to hurt him or take advantage of him. It’s almost terrifying, maybe, how much he trusts them all. It turns him into another person sometimes.

Tsukishima tries not to react too visibly when Kuroo smoothes his hands down his sides before finally slipping his fingers into his waistband, but his legs start to shake in anticipation of their own accord, and he hears Bokuto cooing over it.

Not a single hand on him, and Tsukishima is already putty in their hands. Terrifying.

Kuroo inches the sweatpants painfully slowly down his long legs and it feels like the moments stretch on forever. Tsukishima hears Kuroo take in a sharp intake of breath and knows the exact moment he sees the rose of the plug sticking out of him. He shifts his hips involuntary, and the action is met with a harmony of three groans that make Tsukishima bite down on a pleased smile.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so lovely.” Kuroo runs reverent hands down the backs of his thighs, squeezing the flesh between his large hands. “So goddamn lovely, and just for me.”

“Koutarou fingered him open, but he and I haven’t actually fucked him all week,” Akaashi says, and Tsukishima feels another hand at the small of his back. “So you can save your present and use it whenever you want, but I don’t think it would be very nice to make him wait much longer.”

“All week?” Kuroo’s voice is colored lightly with surprise. He knows that when he goes away from work, Tsukishima gets clingier than usual.

“We were, ah, all a little busy this week,” Bokuto says sheepishly.

Kuroo hums sympathetically and presses a thumb against the base of the plug, making tingles race up Tsukishima’s spine. He curves forward, until he’s completely draped across Tsukishima’s body, and leans right up against his ear to whisper, “Then I won’t let you wait another minute.”

Everything moves so much more quickly after that, and after a week of waiting, Tsukishima has no complaints. The next thing he knows, they’re back on the couch. This time, with Tsukishima sitting in Kuroo’s lap, his back to Kuroo’s chest, and bent over nearly in half so that Kuroo has the perfect up close and person view of the plug peeking out of him. Bokuto and Akaashi are on the couch next to them, with Akaashi sitting sideways in Bokuto’s lap, with a hand pumping his boyfriend’s cock and his eyes intently trained on Tsukishima’s stretched out hole.

Kuroo keeps him bent over his lap like that while he grips the base of the plug and twists and pulls and pushes it back in, using some lube that Akaashi grabbed from the bedroom to keep the friction from hurting him too badly. It’s not exactly what he wants, but it still feels so good when Kuroo twists the plug just right and it pushes up against Tsukishima’s prostate. He’d prefer Kuroo’s cock to a toy any day, but fuck if Kuroo didn’t know how to use everything at his disposal to turn Tsukishima into a panting, writhing mess.

Tsukishima can feel his glasses start to slide down his nose and off his face, and he thinks it might be Akaashi to catch them just in time and place them on the coffee table. It’s weird to think of such a gesture as ‘intimate’ given their current situation but, well, this is what Akaashi had been talking about, isn’t it? It’s not the sex between them at all that shows how much they love each other.

When Kuroo is finally finished playing with the plug and pulls it out, he flips Tsukishima around in his lap so that he’s facing him. Kuroo’s eyes are completely dark, and as soon as Tsukishima settles back against him, he hauls him in for a kiss, and Tsukishima happily licks into his mouth like it’s the last thing he’ll ever get to taste again.

“Never gonna leave you again,” Kuroo groans against his lips. “Always gonna be here any time you need me, always gonna take care of you, fuck, fuck, baby, I swear it.”

Tsukishima laughs and pulls back to flick Kuroo in the center of the forehead.

“Don’t make stupid sex promises you aren’t going to keep.”

Kuroo frowns and rubs his forehead. “I wish I could.”

“I know you do,” Tsukishima’s expression softens. “And you do take such good care of me.”

“But - ah! - if you ever need us to, we can take care of him for you when your gone.” Bokuto grins, bright and earnest, and Akaashi stops jerking him off for a moment to nod in agreement.

“That’s why there are four of us, aren’t there? So we can always take care of each other.”

Kuroo’s eyes get suspiciously misty and he buries his head in Tsukishima’s chest. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s why there are four of us. Shit, I really love you guys, you know that?”

“We love you, too, man!”

“We do,” Akaashi agrees.

Tsukishima places a finger under Kuroo’s chin and tilts his face up to kiss him. “I love you always and always, more than anything in the world.” Kuroo whines and chases Tsukishima for another kiss, but he pulls away, hands going straight to Kuroo’s belt. “But right now, I need you to fuck me.”

Kuroo laughs at his impatient fingers fumbling to get the buttons of his pants undone, but his laughter quickly melts into groaning as Tsukishima retaliates by grinding the heel of his palm against Kuroo’s hard-on through the fabric of his trousers, right over the zipper. When Tsukishima relents, Kuroo undoes his pants himself and yanks them down to just past his knees. His cock bobs free, red and straining, curved up against his abdomen and gorgeously flushed.

Next to them, Akaashi has already pulled Bokuto’s boxers easily down to his ankles and is working on fingering himself open with one hand while edging Bokuto over and over with the other. Tsukishima winces in sympathy. Akaashi can be ruthless when he wants to be, and Bokuto already looks like he’s having trouble breathing, loose silver strands clinging to the sweat on his forehead and head thrown back with his eyes squeezed shut.

Tsukishima loves watching the two of them together, Akaashi’s lithe body completely in control of Bokuto’s much larger one. Would be perfectly happy just watching the two of them together for the rest of the day, until he feels the tip of Kuroo’s cock brush against his stretched and waiting entrance and forgets about everything in the world other than that small, burning point of contact between their bodies.

“You want it?” Kuroo winds his fingers in Tsukishima’s hair and pulls until he whines. “Tell me how much you missed me, baby. Tell me, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

Tsukishima bites down on his lip until he tastes blood, keeping the embarrassing truth tucked away for as long as he possibly can, until Kuroo presses the tip of a finger into his leaking slit and something inside of Tsukishima cracks and splinters and completely gives way. He throws his arms around Kuroo’s neck and hears his boyfriend's grunt of surprise, holding on so tight that his muscles tremble.

“Missed you so, s-so much Tetsurou! Our b-bed was so cold without you, and I kept making two cups of coffee in the morning on ah-accident, and I - I just - I -” Tsukishima breaks off, unable to form any more coherent words, breathing heavily and dry-sobbing into Kuroo’s neck.

“Oh, sweetheart, oh no, no,” Kuroo wraps his arms completely around him and holds him tight, makes him feel safe like a vice around him. “I’m here now. Oh, you’re so good for me darling, don’t cry. I’ll make everything better for you, hm?”

While Kuroo lines up the head of his cock with Tsukishima’s entrance, cool, gentle fingertips tug and prod at his face until he unburies it from Kuroo’s neck and Akaashi catches his lips in a sweet kiss. Tsukishima melts into it, letting Akaashi swallow down all of his gasps as Kuroo begins to thrust up into him, swallowing all of Akaashi’s in turn as Bokuto does the same thing, and some invisible, immovable thread connects all four of them.

Tsukishima comes first, but it’s foul play on Akaashi’s part, because he reaches over to stroke Tsukishima in perfect time with Kuroo’s thrusts inside of him, and the overwhelming sensations along with the emotion making his heart swell is just too much for him to take without splitting apart at the seams. Kuroo keeps fucking into him through it, and the overstimulation has Tsukishima barely able to keep up his kisses with Akaashi, so he breaks away from him, biting messily at Kuroo’s neck and shoulders instead.

He hears Akaashi come not much later, and though he’s upset that he didn’t get to see the look on the older man’s face, he wouldn't trade anything for getting to watch Kuroo slowly unravel beneath him, completely losing himself into Tsukishima’s body, until he’s finishing, too. Painting Tsukishima’s insides white and warm and full.

Akaashi has pulled off of Bokuto and is back to stroking him painfully slowly again, Bokuto’s erection straining angry and red. Tsukishima meets his eyes, asking for silent permission, and Akaashi nods.

“Koutarou,” Tsukishima breathes right into Bokuto’s ear, sliding halfway out of Kuroo’s lap to press up against his side. Bokuto’s eyes fly open at the sudden appearance of Tsukishima so close to him, throat working like he wants to say something, but completely unable to even form sentences with the way Akaashi is working him.

“Ah, hey K-Kei -”

“I never got to repay the favor, did I? To thank you for last night.” Tsukishima trails a finger down the center of Bokuto’s defined pecs, down the ridges of his abdomen, and his hand joins Akaashi’s around Bokuto’s heated shaft. “Let me take care of you now,” he whispers, kissing the corner of Bokuto’s mouth gently before pulling away.

Tsukishima tightens the circle of his fingers around Bokuto’s cock to the point that he knows it’s probably almost painful and Akaashi gives him a lazy smirk of approval. Then, they both start working their hands together, quick and rough and wet and it’s barely even a minute later that Bokuto’s arching his back off the couch like he’s been electrocuted and coming all over both of their hands.

Tsukishima offers his messy fingers to Kuroo, who’s still laying boneless in his seat. He gives Tsukishima a lazy, sated smile and brings his wrist to his mouth, licking Bokuto’s come off of them until they’re completely clean. Bokuto groans at the sight and thunks his head back against the couch.

“You’re all trying to kill me. I swear you are.”

Kuroo raises his arms over his head in a big stretch, before settling a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. “Man, nothing gets by you, does it?”

Bokuto tries to shrug him off, which leads to Kuroo grabbing him in a half-headlock and both of them starting to play wrestle until Tsukishima and Akaashi are forced to climb off of them to avoid getting caught up in it.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up while they make up for lost time being idiots together.” Akaashi says, taking Tsukishima’s hand and leading him to the bathroom.

Tsukishima has to jump into the shower to clean off the come dripping down the insides of his thighs, and he and Akaashi talk quietly to each other through the curtain while Akaashi washes his hands, then sits on the counter and waits for Tsukishima to finish. He doesn’t need to be told to stay, he just knows Tsukishima well enough that he’d never leave him alone in a moment like this.

The peace and quiet can only last so long living with boyfriends like theirs, and just as Tsukishima is stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, Bokuto and Kuroo come barging into the bathroom in burst of light and sound.

“Ah, you guys were gone for too long!” Bokuto complains, throwing his arms around Akaashi’s waist. His boyfriend rolls his eyes and cards his fingers through Bokuto’s messy silver strands.

Kuroo ruffles Tsukishima’s wet hair, spraying little water droplets around the bathroom. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to shower?” He pouts. “I would’ve joined you!”

Tsukishima looks around the bathroom at all of them cramped in so closely together and grins. It’s not a very large bathroom by any means, and knees and elbows are constantly bumping, and maybe to anyone else it would be too claustrophobic or crowded to be pleasant, but Tsukishima doesn’t think he could ever have these three men too close to him.

“Man,” he says as casually as he can, letting Kuroo hug him from behind and hook his chin over his shoulder, smirking at Bokuto and Akaashi. “You guys are really clingy.”