Work Text:
It had been a long day.
First he’d dealt with class, his own and the gig where he was acting as a model for life drawing class. That was exhausting in and of itself. Then he finally got home, set up in his studio, when Bokuto called.
It wasn’t anything serious, just another one of those mini-crises that Bo sometimes ran into. Kenma normally helped Bokuto manage his mood swings. He was steady, and bluntly honest in a way that Bokuto could trust, even through his mood swings. Today, however, Kenma had been having issues of his own. Again, nothing out of the ordinary, but it was enough to ratchet Kuroo’s anxiety up because the only thing he could do to fix the situation there was text him and wait for an answer.
They were together now. They were good together, too. But they were still his best friends, and he still worried.
It wasn’t until Kenma had finally texted him back that he had felt himself relax enough to try to work on his painting. Even that was a slow start. Once he got into it though, things started to flow. He laid down a deep coat of blue, mixing in some green in places and spackling in other colors to add perspective to the depths. Painting water was relaxing.
He found himself lost in the depths and the swirls, the rhythm of the brush moving across canvas. It almost felt like he was uncovering the picture rather than creating it. The painting was somewhat fantastical, with the lilypad-covered waters of a pond fading in the distance into a sky with mirroring clouds. He was just about to start putting detail on the lilypads when his phone beeped.
Checking it, Kuroo smiled. Bo. Evidently he was feeling better. Also evidently Kenma had taken good care of him. The emoji at the end of that text made Kuroo wonder for a moment just how Kenma had taken care of Bokuto. He wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know.
He wasn’t jealous of them, of course. He just sometimes wished -
And then he noticed the time. Crap.
Turning, he saw Akaashi sitting in a chair just inside the door to his studio.
“I’m sorry!” Kuroo said, scrambling a bit. “I lost track of time. I know we talked about me cooking dinner tonight - how long have you been here?”
Akaashi shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Not long. You looked busy.”
Kuroo nodded, watching him. This was one of the reasons he was, perhaps, just a tad bit jealous of Kenma and Bokuto, of what they had together. Being around Akaashi was just - well.
It had only been natural for the two of them to move in together, once their best friends decided to get a place. Akaashi’s parents owned a small house near the university that they let Akaashi rent out. There was a shed in the back that was perfect for an artist studio. Kuroo had already been using it while he still lived with Kenma, so moving into the house made everything easier.
And harder.
Akaashi was just too beautiful.
Akaashi in a suit, even more so, especially because Kuroo knew exactly what lay under that suit. He’d spent hours drawing Akaashi in class, back when Akaashi had the same job Kuroo was working now. Kuroo knew every curve, every mark on Akaashi’s pale, pale skin. He knew how light played over his muscles. He knew the lines that led down to -
And he really shouldn’t be thinking about that now. Not when they were just friends.
“You should have interrupted me,” Kuroo murmured, trying to rub the paint off his hands and onto his plaid shirt. It was hopeless. Akaashi evidently agreed, because he was up and out of the chair, coming closer.
“I didn’t want to,” Akaashi murmured, staring up at him. “You have paint on your face.”
“What?” Kuroo said, lifting his hand. “Where?”
“Stop. You’re just going to make it worse,” Akaashi said, long pale fingers wrapping around Kuroo’s wrist and tugging his hand away from his face. Sighing, Akaashi turned and grabbed a bottle of mineral oil and a tissue, wetting the tissue and using it to rub small circles on Kuroo’s skin.
“I can do that,” Kuroo said, protesting weakly. He didn’t move, though. He couldn’t help it. These little moments held him captive. Akaashi was so close like this. He could see every speck in his green eyes, the ring of grey that sometimes made it hard to tell what color his eyes actually were. His lips were pursed. Kuroo wanted to taste them. He had to stop himself from leaning forward to do just that. He was concentrating so hard that the ringing of his phone made him jump, flailing a moment before he got his hands on the phone.
“Bokuto? What’s wrong?” Kuroo asked, earlier worry rising up again.
“Did you get my text message?”
“Of course I did, Bo.”
“Hey! I was just asking. You didn’t reply, so -”
“Yeah, I did. Sorry, got distracted,” Kuroo replied, glancing over at Akaashi.
“Oh hoh ho? Got distracted, eh?” Bokuto asked, the amusement in his voice making Kuroo feel even more embarrassed than he already was, especially since Akaashi was not exactly looking happy.
“Yeah. Uh, I gotta go Bo, ok?”
“Surreee thing. Have fun with Akaashi! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t - hey!”
The phone call was cut off from Bokuto’s end. It was probably Kenma. Kuroo was momentarily thankful, but trepidation at the expression on Akaashi’s face as he stared down at his tie pushed any calm to the back burner.
“What’s wrong?” Kuroo asked.
“You got paint on my tie.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean -”
Akaashi shrugged, pulling at the knot of his tie in a way that made Kuroo almost thankful he’d ruined it. Even though he’d seen Akaashi naked countless times, the act of undressing was still subtly erotic.
Looking down at his tie, Akaashi muttered, “Maybe I should just use it to tie your hands back so you won’t get paint on anything else while I clean you up.”
“I - you - what?” Kuroo said, blinking in surprise. That surprise only grew as Akaashi’s cheeks colored.
Wait.
As Akaashi looked up at him, defiance beneath the calm, Kuroo suddenly felt like an incredible idiot. Opening his mouth, he decided to add to that level of idiocy by saying, “Kinky.”
Akaashi growled, and for a moment Kuroo thought he was going to punch him. Instead they both looked at each other, the moment stretching on so long Kuroo didn’t want it to end. He felt like they were actually seeing each other for the first time in ages. He felt like he was actually allowed to look at Akaashi, and not be worried that if he stared too long that Akaashi would get weirded out or politely ask him to stop.
Akaashi was staring back at him just as long.
Akaashi had sat and watched him paint.
Oh, wow.
That - if that was -
“Have I been being an idiot?” Kuroo blurted out.
Akaashi huffed, finally turning away. “You’re a pain in the ass, Kuroo-san.”
He wouldn’t mind being a pain in Akaashi’s ass. Well, that probably wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be, but -
“I mean,” Kuroo said, reaching out when he was worried Akaashi was walking away, “have I been being an idiot in thinking -”
“I swear Kuroo, if you get paint on the rest of my suit I really will tie them back -”
“Try it,” Kuroo quipped, smiling before he found himself pushed back against his workbench, Akaashi’s hands on his wrists, holding them to the wooden surface.
“Don’t tempt me,” Akaashi said, staring up at him. He was so gorgeous. Kuroo wanted to kiss him more than ever, especially since he was fairly certain that Akaashi wanted to kiss him too.
“You tempt me all the time,” Kuroo replied, sounding far more honest than he meant to.
Surprise crossed Akaashi’s face. Surprise and concern and calculation and something else, something reckless. It was all the warning Kuroo got before Akaashi’s hands were pushing down on his before Akaashi pushed himself up, tilting his head to press their lips together.
Akaashi’s lips were dry. A little chapped.
Akaashi’s lips were amazing.
Akaashi’s body pressed against him was incredible.
Akaashi pulled him closer, away from the workbench just a bit. He still held Kuroo’s hands behind him, but Kuroo didn’t care. He just wanted to taste this kiss. It wasn’t like anything he’d imagined, in those small secret fantasies hidden away in the corners of his mind. Akaashi was aggressive, hungry, kissing him with a force that made Kuroo’s knees go weak. He supposed it shouldn’t be a surprise, given the way that Akaashi could eat, but -
Akaashi pulled away.
Kuroo started to lean forward, almost whining at the pale hand that pressed lightly against his chest, holding him back. He wanted more. Akaashi looked even better than normal with lips turning red from kissing, eye dark with desire. He was everything Kuroo had been dreaming about for weeks - no, months, maybe even years, and now he was inches away.
“Stay,” Akaashi murmured, stepping further away.
“I’m not a dog,” Kuroo said, pouting. “I’m a cat.”
Lips quirking Akaashi moved back again. Kuroo did whine at that. Then he tried moving, and felt the results of what Akaashi had been doing with his hands.
“You tied me to my own desk?” Kuroo said, blinking.
“Well, I did warn you, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi purred, putting his hands on his hips and letting his gaze wander up and down Kuroo’s body in a way that made it entirely clear what he was doing. “I don’t want to get my clothes dirty. Just watch.”
Swallowing at the implications of that Kuroo leaned back against the desk. He could’ve gotten out of the knots. The tie wasn’t tied that tight, just around his wrists and then knotted to the front of the drawer. But he liked the implication of it. "If you don't want to get your clothes dirty, then what - oh."
Akaashi took off his shirt jacket, laying it down before moving his hands to the buttons on his shirt. Kuroo felt caught between watching those long fingers and watching Akaashi's eyes. Akaashi's gaze was locked on him, though it sometimes drifted down, kiss-swollen lips twitching in evident amusement. Probably at the effect he was having on Kuroo's body. Kuroo didn't really care. Here, now, in front of him was his dream come to life.
He'd never actually seen Akaashi strip before. They normally wore robes into class when they were posing, discarding the robe in a perfunctory manner before moving into whatever the position the instructor had decided on that day. In truth, posing was a completely non-sexual thing, at least in Kuroo's mind.
This, what Akaashi was doing now - this was anything but.
Kuroo swallowed, giving in and watching the pale flesh being uncovered bit by bit as Akaashi unbuttoned his shirt. That skin was the perfect canvas, to Kuroo. He knew it - knew the little mark on Akaashi's right pectoral, the scar along the left side of his collarbone. Minor imperfections that were anything but flaws. Kuroo knew them by sight. He wanted to taste them, trace over them with his hands, mold Akaashi's flesh under his fingers. Right now, only Akaashi's fingers were the ones in play, however.
They pulled at his shirt, tugging it up out of his pants and open so that Kuroo could see all of the other man's chest. Akaashi shrugged, rolling his shoulders as he pulled the shirt off, turning to drape it carefully over the chair next to his suit jacket. It showed off the line of his back, shoulder blades and muscles that Kuroo wanted to feel, to know. He'd seen Akaashi move in so many ways. Watched him on the volleyball court, reaching up and back a bit to set the perfect ball, diving down to make a save. Even though they weren't playing volleyball as much anymore, Akaashi's body was still in excellent shape. The long hours at his internship at the law firm evidently hadn't changed that one bit.
Akaashi turned back around, pausing a moment to let Kuroo drink his fill of the vision in front of him. Movement on Akaashi's face drew Kuroo's attention back up, and he saw amusement in the other man's eyes.
"You aren't going to ask me anything like, 'like what you see?', are you?" Kuroo asked, feeling his heart speed up.
"I'm not Bokuto-san," Akaashi replied, even more amused.
"Does he say - oh - I mean -"
Akaashi chuckled. "I'm just imagining," he said. "Not speaking from experience."
"Oh," Kuroo said. "Well that's good. I mean -"
"Hush, Kuroo-san," Akaashi said, smile softening. "I spent more time looking across the court than on it, you know."
"Oh really? Me too. Just...."
Kuroo let his words taper off, attention fully pulled away by the warmth in Akaashi's eyes. He couldn't believe it had taken him this long to see it. Akaashi was snarky, and brilliant, and perfectly elegant. How a man could make him so calm and so excited at the same time, Kuroo didn't know. He just knew Akaashi.
Knew that he'd been a fool to wait so long to realize that what he felt was shared.
His heart was beating faster again, and not just from desire. He thought about what this might mean, if Akaashi liked him, had liked him -
And then Akaashi's hands drifted lower, and desire again made a play for the entirety of his attention.
"Akaashi -" Kuroo murmured, not sure if the word was a question or a plea. Akaashi's fingers undid his belt, thumbs slipping under the waistband of his pants.
"You want me to stop, Kuroo-san?" Akaashi murmured. He'd stepped closer, Kuroo realized. He was still too far away - feet away when he should have been inches - but it meant Kuroo could see him more clearly, could let his gaze trace the line of the iliac furrow that ran from the sides of his waist down to a portion of his anatomy that Kuroo definitely wanted to see. He'd seen it before, sure, but never - well.
Never in the state he was hoping that it was in.
Something like the state his own was in.
"Of course," Akaashi mused, pausing as he started to undo the top button on his slacks, "perhaps I should taken you to dinner first."
"You'd eat it all anyways," Kuroo grumbled, eyes glued to that button.
"If you're lucky," replied Akaashi, "I will."
Kuroo's mouth fell open a bit at that and his gaze flew upward. The pure heat in Akaashi's eyes made him suck in a breath, leaning back against the desk for balance as his heart threatened to beat right out of his chest.
When he looked down again, he saw that the button had come undone without him even noticing.
"Oh, Akaashi," Kuroo murmured, licking his lips.
Akaashi chuckled. "See something you like?" he asked.
Kuroo started to give him a dirty look, then changed tactics and looked straight into his eyes, hoping to let every ounce of his desire show through. "Very much," he said.
That made Akaashi take a deeper breath, letting it out in an appreciative hum. "Good," he said, letting his pants fall the the floor and kicking them away. Kuroo wanted to mention that there might be paint on the floor, but at this point he wasn't sure Akaashi cared.
Personally he didn't, not really.
The paint could always come out in the wash.
Akaashi was now only in boxer briefs and socks. Navy boxer briefs that clung tightly to his physique. The outline of Akaashi's cock was clear behind the knit material, and as Kuroo had hoped, he'd been having an effect.
That was good. He himself was about as hard as a rock right now, almost painfully so underneath jeans. He tilted his hips, wishing his hands weren't tied to the desk drawer so that he could unbutton his own pants. Let his cock get some air, maybe get better acquainted with Akaashi's.
Not that he had a one track mind, of course.
But hopefully Akaashi had similar ideas.
"You're a bit squirmy, Kuroo-san," Akaashi murmured, stepping even closer. "Everything alright?"
For a moment Kuroo mourned the loss of view. Then he sucked in a breath, leaning forward. He wanted to close the gap of inches that still remained between them. Wanted to taste Akaashi's mouth, run his lips over that pale skin. Akaashi's skin was the perfect canvas. He wanted to paint him - oh, if Akaashi would let him paint -
But evidently not right now.
"You're looking a bit heated as well," said Akaashi, leaning forward just enough to nose under Kuroo's chin and mouth at his neck. "Perhaps I should take care of that?"
"I'm fairly sure," gasped Kuroo, feeling a hand pressing against his chest and moving up to the buttons on his flannel shirt, "that whatever you're about to do will have the opposite effect."
Akaashi laughed, and Kuroo could feel the vibrations on his skin. It was a wonderful thing, a beautiful and glorious thing. He had no clue what Akaashi was going to do next, but he didn't care. He wanted it. He wanted Akaashi.
Lips followed fingers as Akaashi unbuttoned the shirt, sucking on Kuroo's skin in a way that had him curling his hands around the drawer handle. He wanted - he needed - fuck. "Fuck," he said out loud as Akaashi's mouth took a detour, teeth grasping a nipple. If he wasn't so turned on, it might've been painful. As it was, it just made him that much harder, feeling like those teeth were pulling him apart in the most delicious way.
The shirt was pushed over his shoulders, gathering at his wrists.
"Hmm," Akaashi said, stepping back. He let his hands run up Kuroo's chest, curling his fingers to let his nails press in as he dragged them down Kuroo's sides.
Trying to hold back a groan, Kuroo arched into Akaashi’s touch. “You know, I have to say, this is not how I ever imagined this,” he said.
Akaashi paused and looked up. “Imagined what?”
The look in Akaashi’s eyes made Kuroo’s heart surge, strangely protective even though he was the one tied up at the moment. There was a vulnerability there, a fear that Akaashi never displayed to anyone. Kuroo lowered his head, wanting Akaashi to know the truth of his words, without a shadow of a doubt. “Imagined being with you,” he said, feeling the risk even as the syllables left his mouth.
“Oh,” Akaashi said, leaning towards him, hands splayed against his stomach. “For a moment, I thought -”
Kuroo frowned, letting his forehead rest against Akaashi’s, memories of rumors from his past running through his head. He wondered if Akaashi had heard those rumors, even over at Fukurodani. He wondered if he’d believed them. “No,” Kuroo said. “I wouldn’t do this with just anyone. And I’ve never let anyone - you know, this.”
Akaashi was still for a moment, then his hands slid around to hold Kuroo’s wrists. “This?” he asked.
Kuroo nodded.
Pulling back, Akaashi looked up at him. “Do you want to stop? Or, I mean - do you want to do this, like this? I just -”
Kuroo thought about that for a moment. He wanted desperately to touch Akaashi’s skin, to wrap arms around him and hold him close. He had to admit to himself that he’d also assumed somewhere in the back of his mind that Akaashi would be the more vulnerable one, the one making noises as Kuroo touched and licked and bit him all over. But to have Akaashi taking care of him, to give up control, even as fantasy -
Yes. He wanted this.
“Yes,” Kuroo said, eyes widening at Akaashi’s crestfallen look. “Er, I mean no, I mean - ugh - take me now or lose me forever!”
That made Akaashi pause, one elegant eyebrow raised as he looked up. “What?”
Kuroo flushed, then looked deep into Akaashi’s eyes. “I want this,” he said. “I want you, Akaashi. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want - urgh, I want the reality of you, not just the fantasy.”
Pale lips twitched. “You realize that’s just about as sappy as what you just said.”
“Hey!”
“Then again, considering your high school volleyball club motto, I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“What? Hey! That was a great motto! Everyone loved it!”
Akaashi snorted. “Yes. Trust me, Kenma and I have discussed it at length.”
Kuroo pouted, feeling slightly mollified as Akaashi leaned forward and kissed him, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth.
Moaning into the kiss Kuroo barely realized that Akaashi’s hands were doing something behind him. When coherent thought again became an option, he pulled back, finding unexpected freedom of movement. Frowning, he said, “I told you I’m fine with this.”
Chuckling, Akaashi kissed him again before saying, “Relax. I just untied you from the drawer. Need to reposition things.”
“What? Oh,” Kuroo said, understanding blossoming as Akaashi’s hands moved to his hips, urging him up and back onto the desk.
“Hmm, better,” Akaashi said, watching critically as Kuroo settled with his back against the wall, hands still tied tightly behind him. “Though I probably should have taken care of this earlier. Just impatient, I suppose.”
“Taken care of what?” Kuroo asked.
“Hush,” Akaashi murmured, then glanced up at him, momentary hesitation written on his features. “Trust me.”
Kuroo smiled. “I do trust you, Akaashi,” he said softly. “I trust you with everything.”
“Good.”
The look they shared then was almost more intimate than a kiss. It was warm, and open, and communicated without words in a manner Kuroo normally only shared with Kenma - and never in a situation like this. Akaashi leaned forward, hand sliding up to cup Kuroo’s cheek. “Good,” he repeated, warmth deepening into a roiling desire that left Kuroo breathless. Akaashi slid his thumb over Kuroo’s lips and he opened his mouth, tasting, tongue running over the pad and then sucking it in as Akaashi pushed it deeper.
“Fuck,” Akaashi breathed out, eyes focused on Kuroo’s mouth. It sent a thrill through him. Akaashi wanted him. Akaashi wanted him so much he cursed - not exactly a rare occurrence, but normally very intentional. This was different.
Slowly, Kuroo bit down, watching as Akaashi’s gaze slid back up to his eyes and they shared a moment of understanding. It blew his mind. He’d never really thought it possible that Akaashi would like him back, true, but he’d definitely never considered the possibility that Akaashi would be into, well.
Kinks.
There was a depth here that he so wanted to explore with the man in front of him. The prospect of doing just that made him feel almost giddy.
He leaned back again as Akaashi slid his thumb out of his mouth, hand trailing down his chest to the waistband of his jeans.
“This,” Akaashi murmured, shifting his hand to press it against the bulge in Kuroo’s jeans, “is what I should’ve taken care of earlier. The jeans, I mean. The cock, mmm, I plan on taking at least a little bit of time with.”
Kuroo failed to hold back a moan as Akaashi rubbed the base of his palm against his cock, seemingly ignoring the need to remove the jeans despite what he had said. It made Kuroo curl his back, trying to press up into that hand even though he was now painfully hard. He’d just wanted this for so long. Being at Akaashi’s mercy was slowly unraveling him bit by bit.
“Hmm,” Akaashi finally murmured, glancing up, “I should probably stop.”
Kuroo whined, trying to lift up as Akaashi removed his hand.
“After all,” Akaashi continued, seemingly ignoring Kuroo’s voice, “I don’t want you to come in your jeans. Well, at least not this time.”
Fuck. Kuroo really wasn’t sure if he was going to survive this.
Akaashi shot him an amused look before slowly, ever so slowly, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Kuroo couldn’t help a sigh of relief as his cock got some relief from the insistent pressure. He thought he should consider wearing jeans that weren’t nearly so tight.
Later. Right now he was a bit busy.
Akaashi frowned, thinking a moment before he tugged Kuroo’s legs up.
“I could stand back up,” Kuroo said.
“Hush.”
Akaashi evidently had other ideas, because he just pulled Kuroo’s hips forward, lifting him up enough to slip jeans and underwear off before setting his bare ass back down on the wooden desktop. Being manhandled like that felt a bit surreal to Kuroo, but he didn’t mind. It didn’t take Akaashi long to finish pulling the rest of his clothes off. He then grabbed Kuroo’s old desk chair and wheeled it in front of the desk, pushing Kuroo’s legs apart.
“Hmm,” Akaashi said, looking him over.
Kuroo flushed. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to people looking at him naked - hell, three days a week he posed for hours in front of a class of students. But this was different.
Akaashi was different.
“You know,” Akaashi said suddenly, “I sometimes wish I was an artist instead of a law student.”
“What?” Kuroo said, trying to follow his train of thought.
“All those people that get to see you. Study you,” Akaashi continued, sliding fingers down the inside of Kuroo’s thigh. “I know what it’s like to be the model.”
He paused, and glanced up at Kuroo as if a thought had just struck him. “You drew me.”
Kuroo nodded.
“You wanted me then?”
“I’ve wanted you for years,” Kuroo admitted, feeling like he was giving away pieces of himself with every word. It was true, though.
Akaashi looked to the side, thoughtful. “I never knew,” he murmured, fingertips sliding back up Kuroo’s inner thigh in a lazy spiral. “I always thought you were into - ah - someone else.”
“I didn’t date anyone else,” Kuroo pointed out.
Shrugging, Akaashi said, “I know. Well I have to admit, I tried not to pay attention to those sort of things. I just always thought -”
“What?”
“That I would never be able to do this,” Akaashi finished, fingers tracing over to the base of Kuroo’s cock and wrapping around it, tugging tugging in a way that made Kuroo gasp.
“‘Kaashi,” he groaned, hearing the need in his own voice and not really caring.
Akaashi just smiled.
Smiled and shifted his hands, pushing Kuroo’s legs up and out so that he was even more exposed, feet curled around the edge of the desk.
“No one sees this,” Kuroo breathed, fighting the desire to close his legs. He was so exposed. Akaashi was only inches away. He felt so nervous, showing everything off, nervous and excited and fuck Akaashi looked incredible.
And incredibly pleased.
“I’m glad,” Akaashi said, glancing up. “I have to admit, I’m a bit greedy, Kuroo-san.”
“You can be as greedy as you want,” Kuroo said. He thought about telling him to call him Tetsuro, but there was just something eminently erotic about the syllables of his last name falling from Akaashi’s lips. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to hear it in public again without thinking of this moment, with Akaashi speaking so calmly, so politely, while leaning forward to lap at his cock.
Kuroo groaned. In this position he could do little more than rock his hips. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. But it was even worse when Akaashi sat back and glanced around, gaze running over the supplies gathered in the room.
“What?” Kuroo asked. “What do you want?”
“You,” Akaashi murmured. “And to do that, hmm. I don't really think I want to use mineral oil. I suppose it would do in a pinch, but -”
“Oh,” Kuroo said. Lube. Shit. Damn. Shit. He had some inside, but out here - and dammit, he wanted to stay here, he wanted Akaashi to -
“Ah, what’s this?” Akaashi said, reaching over and grabbing another bottle. “Linseed oil?”
“Flaxseed,” Kuroo said. “I use it to mix paints sometimes.”
Pondering this, Akaashi unscrewed the lid and tapped the underside with a finger, tasting the oil. “Not bad, not bad,” he said, looking around again.
“Yeah,” Kuroo said, wondering what he was looking for. The answer came when Akaashi picked up a clean brush, rolling it between his fingers. “Ah, what?”
“You’ll see,” Akaashi said, then paused. “Ah, you are clean, right? I mean -”
Kuroo flushed. “Uh, I took a shower after class, but I uh - oh. Oh. that kind of clean,” he said, realizing what Akaashi meant. Condoms. Condoms were a thing. Condoms and oil didn’t mix. Did he want Akaashi to -
Yes.
“I’m clean,” he said. “I haven’t really - well - a few things in college, but I get checked regularly just in case something pops up. Nothing has.”
“Good,” Akaashi said, looking up at him seriously. “I haven’t ever done it unprotected. Only a time or two at that, but always safe. I just got to the point where I didn’t want to settle.”
Kuroo swallowed, the deepness of the moment bubbling up into a smile. “I can live with that,” he said.
Akaashi’s lips curled in an answering smile, and he sat back in his chair, bottle and brush in hand. “Hmm. Be still.”
Blinking Kuroo held himself still, watching as Akaashi poured some of the oil out onto his belly button.
“Don’t spill,” Akaashi murmured.
Kuroo’s eyes opened wide. That was an impossible request. There was just so much oil, he was sure he was going to spill some. Especially when Akaashi lifted the brush and dipped it in the oil, swirling the bristles around. He wondered if he should tell Akaashi how sensitive his bellybutton was.
He was fairly certain from the way Akaashi’s lips twitched that he had something of an idea.
Leaning his head back Kuroo made a helpless little sound. Akaashi was moving the brush from side to side, painting colorless swaths of oil over his stomach on the way down to his cock. He felt the oil edging from one side to the other.
It was going to spill. He knew it.
He wasn’t entirely sure he cared. He almost wondered what Akaashi would do to him it did. Wanting to know the unknown had him caught between stillness and motion, growing overwhelmed with every single stroke. Akaashi’s movements were subtle and precise, like the master calligrapher Kuroo knew he was. Oil slid over his skin, bristles teasing spots he’d never known could be sensitive. Then they lifted from his skin, and touched down at the base of his cock, sliding upward to swirl under his head.
Kuroo jerked.
“Tsk, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi murmured, brush flicking up to stop the trickle of oil that threatened to spill out and over his side. “If you aren’t careful, I won’t have enough oil to work with.”
“S-sorry,” Kuroo said, muscles trembling as he tried to hold still. Akaashi glanced up at him and for a moment Kuroo forgot it was a game. His world was shrinking bit by bit to just the man between his legs and what he wanted. For a moment he thought about resisting.
He let the thought run out his head.
This, being Akaashi’s - he wanted this. He chose this.
Something in his expression must’ve shown what was going on in his head, because Akaashi’s eyes widened, lips curving in a smirk that was almost predatory. He lowered his head and sucked Kuroo’s cock into his mouth. Kuroo gasped, biting his bottom lip as he felt a trickle of oil slide over his stomach and down his side.
Akaashi pulled back, making a slight noise of disappointment, free hand moving to brush at the oil with his fingers. “Kuroo-san,” Akaashi scolded.
“You!” Kuroo started, then took a breath, letting it out. He wanted that. Wanted those fingers that were rubbing the oil between them, wanted more of that mouth that had shocked him with pleasure. He wanted to do good.
“I suppose,” Akaashi murmured, “that I should use some of the oil for its intended purpose before you spill it all.”
Kuroo nodded at that, eyes flowing wide as he figured out what Akaashi meant. The bristles of the brush dipped back in, gathering up even more oil before Akaashi pulled it back. Ass. His ass. But Akaashi couldn’t mean to push the brush -
One flick, two. Light, so light. Perfect. Kuroo moaned again, little gasps as he felt his asshole painted with the oil. Akaashi pulled it back and flipped it around, slowly pushing the end of the paintbrush inside Kuroo’s ass.
“That’s not too big, is it Kuroo?” Akaashi asked.
“No,” Kuroo gasped out. It wasn’t big enough. It still felt odd. He wasn’t in the habit of playing with his ass all that often, and he certainly had never stuck a paintbrush up there. It felt so thin though, just a bit larger than a thermometer, much smaller than a finger. Finger.
The fingers that had been playing in the oil moved down, one pressing against the handle of the paintbrush, making it pull against his asshole. It was such a strange sensation. Kuroo wanted to sob when the finger pushed in.
Akaashi’s finger.
Akaashi was inside him.
He moaned as Akaashi pushed in deeper, then pulled out, along with the brush. That almost made him sob but the fingers were up, dipping into the oil in his belly button before moving back down. Kuroo groaned as Akaashi pushed one back in, thrusting it in and out. The paintbrush, it seemed, had been discarded.
They’d have to explore that more later.
Much later.
For now, fingers were more than enough. Fingers, and a mouth that was lowered to suck at the rim of his asshole, tasting the oil as Akaashi pushed another finger inside, opening him up. Kuroo was losing it. He could barely remember to keep his feet on the desk. One slipped off and Akaashi pulled back, staring up at him for a long moment before thrusting a third finger inside.
“I always wanted this,” Akaashi murmured. “Wanted you. You look incredible like this, Tetsurou. Thank you, for...”
Kuroo watched as Akaashi looked back down, a mix of emotions crowding in his heart. “I want you, Akaashi,” he whispered. “Want you, insi-ah!”
He couldn’t help but arch as Akaashi’s finger curled up, rubbing at his prostate. The oil was gone, sliding over his skin and onto the desk and he did not care. Didn’t care because Akaashi was thrusting his fingers in and out fast and hard. Stars. He saw stars. He heard the chair rolling away. Saw Akaashi stand up. Felt his other hand move to gather all of the leftover oil before moving back down out of sight. Then the fingers were gone from Kuroo’s ass and he felt empty, so empty, before something else pressed against his rim.
“Kuroo,” Akaashi said. “Look at me Kuroo. I want to see -”
He looked, and Akaashi pushed.
Words failed him. All he could do was moan as he felt Akaashi’s cock stretch him open, burning ever-so-slightly in such a perfect way.
“Fuck,” Akaashi said, leaning close, hands moving to push Kuroo’s legs back against his chest. “Fuck, you’re tight, Kuroo.”
In response Kuroo clinched, loving the way Akaashi’s breath shuddered on the inhale. Akaashi felt so big inside him. Part of it was probably that it had been so long since he’d been fucked but damn. It felt like forever until he finally bottomed out.
Then finally, he was balls deep inside.
“Wow,” Akaashi murmured.
Kuroo wanted to nod, answer, do something. It was too perfect, though.
Akaashi.
Akaashi was inside him.
Akaashi was fucking him - except it felt far more intimate than anything like that.
Akaashi was inside him in ways far deeper than just the simple physical joining of their bodies. Akaashi was in his heart, soul, mind. He moved when he moved, but it had been that way for so long, now, even if neither one of them had fully recognized it before.
Right now, in this moment, they were one.
“Are you - I mean let me know when -” Akaashi started to say eyes glued to the spot where they were joined together..
“Move.”
Looking up at that Akaashi stared at him, then nodded, leaning forward as he pulled his hips back and thrust back in. Kuroo arched. Akaashi swallowed. Kuroo felt Akaashi push his legs up, arms reaching around to hold Kuroo’s back, pulling them closer together.
Kuroo wanted to kiss him, to taste. Another time. Another position. Another moment when the world was nothing but the two of them, nothing but need and desire and action and response, breath and adoration. Akaashi moved deeper, thrusting harder. Fast or slow, Kuroo had no clue. His points of reference were spinning out and away. All of it was falling away until all he knew was sensation. The smell of paint and sex. The feeling of Akaashi everywhere around and inside him, each thrust insistently battering away at any self-control he still had. The sound of Akaashi’s grunts mixed with the noises of pleasure spilling out of his own mouth. The sight of Akaashi, the one he wanted to be his Akaashi, flushed with pleasure, hair mussed even more than usual with sweat dripping down the sides of his face. This was all he wanted. He felt like this was all he’d ever want.
“More,” he heard himself whisper, as surprised as Akaashi. Akaashi didn’t stay surprised long though, just smirked and reached down, pulling Kuroo’s ass even closer to the edge of the desk. The new angle made Kuroo feel even more helpless and he moaned, ever-so-thankful at the way Akaashi redoubled his efforts. This, these thrusts, this was fast. Hard. Fuck, he was losing it. Fuck, he was giving it all to Akaashi. Fuck, but he’d never wanted anything more.
Pleasure was overwhelming him like ocean waves battering a small boat, pushing him this way and that until he was losing the last of any will to hold on. Akaashi was speaking now. Words, syllables, order and pleas, praising him, enticing him, he didn’t have a clue. He’d lost all sense of anything but just being Kuroo. Being Akaashi’s Kuroo. It was all he wanted to be.
Akaashi’s hand slid between them, curling around his cock. Kuroo cried out. It was too much pleasure, too much. “I’m -” Kuroo said.
“Do,” Akaashi ground out. “Cum. I’m going to cum inside you, fill you up, mark you, Tetsurou, my Tetsurou, mine -”
Those words were too much and he lost it. Cum painted his stomach and he tensed up, overwhelmed, feeling Akaashi push deep against him with short hard thrusts before crying out his own pleasure. It was too much.
Kuroo slumped back against the desk, both thankful and mournful as Akaashi pulled out.
“My Kuroo,” Akaashi murmured, carefully lowering Kuroo’s legs down.
All Kuroo could do was give a little nod. He was boneless. He’d be sore later, probably. He didn’t care.
He’d do it all again in a heartbeat.
Though, maybe with a few permutations.
Akaashi slid hands around him and pulled, coaxing him up. “Come here,” he murmured.
Kuroo stood on shaky legs, all too grateful when Akaashi sat back in the chair and pulled him into his lap.
“Here,” Akaashi said, “Let me get this.”
Kuroo just leaned against him. Lithe fingers untied the knots that held his wrists together. He was thankful.
Finally, he could hold his lover properly.
Well, except for the fact that he was still boneless with pleasure.
He settled for loosely sliding his arms around Akaashi’s back, snuggling closer as Akaashi hugged him tight.
“I’m so happy,” Kuroo whispered, nuzzling Akaashi’s shoulder.
Akaashi chuckled, turning his head to place soft kisses on Kuroo’s neck. “Me too,” he said. There was wonder in his voice, an emotion Kuroo never really expected to be directed at him by anyone other than Bokuto. “I can’t believe you really -”
“I do,” Kuroo murmured. “I do, very much. I’m so happy.”
“Yeah,” Akaashi said.
They sat in silence for a while, just breathing in the scent of each other, reveling in what had just happened and what was to come.
Then Akaashi’s stomach grumbled.
Kuroo laughed.
“Shush,” Akaashi said, swatting him lightly on the ass. “It’s your fault.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kuroo murmured, kissing his shoulder. “Want me to call in a pizza?”
“Hmm, two,” Akaashi said thoughtfully, fingertips running up and down Kuroo’s spine. “And then we can have a bath while we wait.”
“Mmm, together?”
“Yes.”
Kuroo smiled, arms tightening around Akaashi. “Sounds good.”
He couldn’t think of anything better.
Especially if afterwards they’d be sharing a bed.