Archive of Our Own

It was just a practice match. The outcome didn’t even matter. It was stupid to care. 

Just a practice match. Just a practice match. Just a-

“Hey, Atsu-”

“It was just a practice match!” snapped Atsumu, squeezing the ball between his hands with such force that he was surprised it didn’t deflate.

Hinata took a slow step back, eyes wide underneath his messy burst of hair. “Uh… are you okay, Atsumu-san?”

Atsumu took a deep breath and dropped the volleyball. It slapped against the ground and bounced sadly away. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He gnawed at his bottom lip and added, reluctantly, “Sorry.” 

Hinata’s smile was unaffected. “That’s okay! Meian-san wants to talk to all of us before we go. He asked me to get you.” He paused. “You sure you’re okay?”

Atsumu pushed his hair back and forced a smile. If anyone else had approached him after that loss – especially Sakusa – he would’ve started an argument just to make himself feel better, but he couldn’t be rude to Hinata. He was too pure. That was probably why Meian had sent him over in particular. “I’m great, Shouyou-kun. Never better. C’mon, let’s go hear Meian talk about how much we sucked.”

Hinata made a face, but fell into step beside him. “I thought we did good! There were a couple times I think I could’ve-”

Hinata kept talking, but Atsumu’s attention drifted to the other side of the court, where their opponents were gradually drifting away. Atsumu knew their names and their playstyles, but most of them were just strangers.

One of them, who scooped up a bright yellow water bottle and wiped his face with his practice jersey, wasn’t.

Suna caught his eye, and his face split into a grin that made Atsumu’s mood exponentially worse. 

“Fuckin’ Sunarin,” mumbled Atsumu, pointedly looking away from him.

“Huh?” said Hinata.

“Nothin’. Keep talking, I’m listening.”

Their post-match debrief went as well as could be expected. Meian didn’t say they sucked, but Atsumu thought it was heavily implied in all the constructive criticism he doled out. Atsumu swallowed his serving with a clenched jaw and a mouthful of profanities caged behind his teeth. 

It hadn’t been a perfect game, but Atsumu had done his best. It wasn’t his fault one of the fox-eyed bastards across the net knew his playstyle better than anyone else in the league. 

“But overall, good work,” said Meian, clapping a hand onto Bokuto’s shoulder as he studied the loose circle of his team. “We’ll work on some of this stuff during our next few practices. Go get cleaned up and enjoy your night in Shizuoka, we’ll head out in the mornin’.”

There was a discordant chorus of “Okay, captain” and “Thanks, captain” and Atsumu’s own mumbled “This shit sucks” as they broke away. Bokuto bounded up beside Atsumu, started to speak, but fell back to walk alongside Sakusa instead. Atsumu hadn’t realized how hard he was scowling, but when he caught sight of himself in a mirror as he entered the EJP locker room, his irritation was clearly reflected in the sharp lines of his brow.

The rest of his teammates seemed unbothered, at ease as they retrieved their bags and mingled with some of the EJP players scattered about the locker room. That’s what Atsumu should have done, too. The invitation to Shizuoka for a practice match had been a friendly one, meant to hone their skills while increasing their bonds with some of their fellow league members. It wasn’t intended to leave anyone bitter and sulking as if they’d just lost a championship match.

Atsumu huffed and went to the spare locker he’d claimed earlier, when he’d been in a good mood and hadn’t considered that MSBY would lose. He dug through his bag, slapped a change of clothes onto a nearby bench, and sat to unlace his shoes. 

He was overreacting. He knew he was. He always got unreasonably annoyed after a loss, no matter the circumstances. And it was even worse when he lost to someone like-

“Good game, Atsumu.” There was a curl of sarcasm in the voice. “Better luck next time.”

“Fuck off, Sunarin.”

Suna was grinning. Atsumu kept his head down, unnecessarily focused on unknotting his shoelaces, but he knew. He felt it.

“Aww, you still get mad when you lose. That’s cute.” Suna’s feet shuffled into view, shower shoes slapping against the floor. His toenails were painted with chipped black polish. “Thought you might’ve grown out of that.”

“I’m not mad.” Atsumu realized he’d said that with a bit too much venom and took a steadying breath. His voice was more level as he continued, “It was just a practice match. Not like it means anything.”

“That’s funny. You only say shit like that when you lose.”

Atsumu raised his head to snap, but the words got lost somewhere along the way as his stare caught at the small – too small, surely EJP could afford better – towel wrapped around Suna’s waist. Atsumu blinked and forced himself to look higher, past a toned stomach and a sturdy chest wet with shower water, until he found a smug, tilted smirk.

“What?” asked Suna, raising an eyebrow. “No quick-witted comeback? No insult?”

Atsumu opened his mouth, struggling for something to say, but was too distracted by a bead of water dripping from Suna’s wet hair to trace the line of his jaw.

Had Suna’s jaw always been that sharp? Atsumu didn’t think so.

Atsumu scowled back down at his shoes. “Fuck off, Sunarin.”

“You’re so good with words. It’s inspiring.”

Atsumu flung one of his shoes in Suna’s direction but it thumped against the locker behind him. “I’ve got nothin’ to say to you. Go off and laugh with your stupid teammates about how you won by cheatin'.”

“You’ve always been a shitty loser,” said Suna. He leaned against the lockers and folded his arms. A precarious knot held up the towel around his waist. “It’s not my fault you’re so predictable. I saw those setter dumps coming a mile away.”

Atsumu chewed at the inside of his cheek and kicked off his other shoe. That had been the worst part of the match. No matter who MSBY played, Atsumu always got in a couple of impressive setter dumps. No one ever saw them coming.

Except Suna. He’d always been able to read Atsumu, even back in high school.

“Get me a towel,” said Atsumu, as he peeled off his socks. “I need to shower.”

“Why should I?”

“This is your locker room. Be a good host.”

Suna rolled his eyes. “Fine. Take mine.” He tugged at the knot of his own towel and Atsumu whipped his head in the other direction.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ jerk!” A flush of heat touched Atsumu’s cheeks and he couldn’t guess why. It must’ve been residual anger, although he didn’t feel quite as angry as he did before. “I don’t want your nasty used towel. Get me a clean one.”

Suna didn’t respond, and he didn’t move. Atsumu kept his gaze averted, waiting, but finally gave in and glanced back over. Suna’s towel was still on, which was a relief. He studied Atsumu with that same raised brow, but something about his stare was calculating. Atsumu didn’t like it.

“Fine,” said Suna. He hitched his towel higher and turned away. “I’ll get you one.”

Atsumu breathed a sigh of relief, watched Suna go – when did his shoulders get so broad? He’d been scrawny back in high school – and shook his head as he stripped off his practice jersey. It was damp with sweat, and he dropped it into a pile on the floor. He would shove it into his gym bag later.

When Suna returned, Atsumu was back at his locker, searching through his bag for something he’d clearly forgotten.

“Here.” Suna tossed the towel onto Atsumu’s head. 

Atsumu whipped it off and draped it over a shoulder. “Thanks. Hey, I forgot my shower shoes. Lemme borrow yours.”

Suna’s face was flat. “Eww. No.”

“Sunarin, c’mon. I don’t wanna catch some nasty foot fungus from your gross teammates.”

Suna glanced across the locker room, where Bokuto had plopped down on a bench completely naked. “My teammates are gross?”

“Just gimme the stupid shoes, Rintarou.”

Suna rolled his eyes. “Give me some socks, then. My locker is on the other side and I’m not walking around barefoot.” 

“Why? ‘Cause your teammates are gross?”

Suna elbowed him out of the way and helped himself to Atsumu’s gym bag. His towel sagged and Atsumu absolutely did not look.

“Of course you only have MSBY socks,” said Suna with a grimace. He emerged with a pair and sank down on the bench where Atsumu had been sitting a moment before. He kicked off his shower shoes and flipped them at Atsumu. “You’re washing them afterward. Your feet stink.”

“They’re shower shoes, dumbass. They’ll get washed while I’m in there.” Atsumu slipped his feet in, ignored the dampness, and went off toward the showers. 

The stalls were sectioned off individually, and they were roomier than the ones at MSBY. The water was hot enough to make Atsumu hiss, and he washed his hair beneath the hellfire heat. He had to admit the EJP locker room was nice, but it wasn’t nicer than MSBY. Nothing was better than MSBY. 

He emerged with his towel wrapped around his waist in a similar fashion to Suna’s and went back toward his borrowed locker. Some of his teammates had already dressed and were on their way out. Bokuto said goodbye to him with slight uncertainty, as if afraid of rekindling Atsumu’s’ temper. Atsumu waved at him, and Bokuto’s grin suggested that was good enough.

Atsumu’s teammates were emotionally exhausting at times, but he liked them. He really did. Even Sakusa, who offered nothing more than a grunt as he walked past to leave.

“Love you too, Omi-kun,” Atsumu called after him, just to make Sakusa cringe.

Since Atsumu had been delayed, he expected to be the only one left on his side of the locker room. But Suna was there, hunched over on the bench with his elbows on his knees, tapping away at his phone. He was fully dressed, which was a mercy.

“I wasn’t gonna steal your stupid shower shoes, you didn’t have to wait on me.” Atsumu picked through the pile of fresh clothes he’d laid out, looking for his underwear. 

Suna clicked off his phone screen and looked up at him. “Yeah, I did. You owe me dinner.”

Atsumu hesitated, underwear dangling from his hand. “Huh?”

“Dinner,” repeated Suna, mouth twitching with a smile. “You forced me into that bet two weeks ago, remember? Loser buys dinner.”

Atsumu gaped at him. He’d completely forgotten about that, probably intentionally. He likely would’ve remembered if he’d won. “You didn’t agree. It doesn’t count.”

“You agreed for me. Literally didn’t give me a choice.” Suna shoved his phone into his sweatpants pocket and leaned back, hands braced on the edge of the bench. “I already know where I wanna go. Hurry up and get dressed, I’m starving.”

“I hate you,” snapped Atsumu.

“Doesn’t mean you’re getting out of dinner.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes, started to drop his towel, but paused.

Suna was still looking at him, head tilted in polite interest.

It shouldn’t have mattered. Atsumu stripped in locker rooms all the time, regardless of who happened to be around. He’d done it in front of other teams during joint practices. He’d done it in front of Suna back in high school, more times than he could remember. 

But something about the way Suna looked at him felt different.

Atsumu slipped out of the shower shoes and poked his feet through the legs of his underwear, shimmying into them without taking off his towel. Only when he was decent did he unknot it and toss it to the side. 

Suna still watched him, even as Atsumu dressed and fixed his hair and put on his shoes. It was unnerving in a way, although it shouldn’t have been. Atsumu knew Suna, had known him for years. It didn’t matter if Suna was looking at him. If anything, it should have been satisfying. Atsumu had always liked attention. 

But something about Suna’s attention was different, even if it had never been before.

“Whatever restaurant you picked better be cheap,” said Atsumu, his gym bag slung over his shoulder as they left the stadium. “I’m not spendin’ a lot on you, and I’m sure not buyin’ you any drinks.”

“That doesn’t sound like the bet you made,” said Suna, walking alongside Atsumu with his hands in his pockets. The sun had gone down during the practice match and the streetlights guided their way. “If I remember right you said something about… and when you lose you’ll buy me whatever I want, Sunarin. Full-course meal, all the drinks I could ask for.” 

“I did not say that.” Atsumu pretended that wasn’t a verbatim account of the past conversation. 

Suna knocked a shoulder into him. “Sure you didn’t.”

The pair of them ended up at an izakaya Atsumu had never seen or heard of, tucked away from the main street but still bustling with customers. They claimed an open booth near the bar, and when Atsumu plopped down, Suna slid in beside him.

“Gimme some space, jeez,” said Atsumu, jamming an elbow into Suna. “There’s a whole damn seat across the table, sit over there.”

“Pass.” Suna slapped Atsumu’s elbow away and made himself comfortable on the booth seat. It was wide enough for both of them, but just barely. “Remember last time we went out after a game? You sat in my lap and ate off my plate. Payback, asshole.”

“You’re a damn liar, Sunarin. I didn’t sit in your lap.” Atsumu hoped not, anyway. He’d been a little drunk. 

“Oh yeah?” Suna pulled out his phone. “Want to see the pictures?”

Atsumu did not want to see the pictures. Fortunately the server chose that moment to appear, and Atsumu slapped Suna’s phone away as they placed their orders. Atsumu hissed in Suna’s ear that he wasn’t buying him a drink.

So of course Suna ordered a drink, and told the server to put everything on Atsumu’s tab.

“I hate you so much,” mumbled Atsumu. “I don’t know why I was ever friends with you.”

“Best friends,” corrected Suna. “That’s what you always say when you want something. Do it for yer best friend, Sunarin .”

“Shut up. I’ve never said that. And stop exaggeratin’ the way I talk.”

Suna’s mouth curved with a smirk. His eyes were hooded, and something about the weight of his stare made Atsumu self-conscious. 

That was stupid. He’d always been his usual loud self around Suna, ever since the day they’d met. Suna had seen him at his worst, with blemished skin and lanky hair and no sense of style. They’d gotten along fine back then. Suna had never cared what Atsumu looked like.

It didn’t matter then and it didn’t matter now, so Atsumu wasn’t sure why he was fidgeting with his hair, wondering if he should’ve taken more time to fix it. He’d been in a rush because Suna was looking at him, kind of like he was looking at him right now. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Suna. He turned his head to glance around the izakaya and propped his chin in his hand as he swiveled back to study Atsumu. “See something you like?”

“Huh?”

“You only mess with your hair like that when you’re interested in someone.” Suna was still smirking, as if he knew something Atsumu didn’t. “Who is it? The girl at the bar? Looks like she’s taken. Don’t be a homewrecker, ‘Tsumu.”

“I’m not interested in nobody,” said Atsumu. He gave his hair one last swipe and clasped his hands together in his lap. “Why’re you bein’ weird?”

Suna ignored that question completely. “Is it the guy she’s with, then? Osamu says you’ve only been talking about guys lately.”

“No. Even if it was, what’s it matter? You know I’m bi.” The server returned with their drinks and Atsumu eagerly snatched his up. He took a long drink to avoid looking at Suna. The alcohol was a soft burn as it hit the back of his throat, similar to the soft burn across his cheeks. He shouldn’t be embarrassed by this conversation. He’d come out to his entire team back in high school. Suna had known for years.

“No reason.” Suna took a sip of his drink, still watching Atsumu. “Just wondering.”

His stare was unnerving in a way that made Atsumu’s face feel even warmer. He reached for his drink and hoped it would mute whatever weird feeling was twisting his stomach into knots.

One meal and two drinks later, the lurch in Atsumu’s gut was, if anything, worse.

“You almost had me on that last setter dump,” said Suna. He twisted the stem of his empty glass between his fingers, eyes on Atsumu. His stare was crystal clear, unmuddled by the alcohol. “You would’ve gotten it past anyone else, I think.”

Atsumu huffed a breath through his nose. “Too bad you’re not anybody else.”

Suna hummed and didn’t respond to that. He was half-leaning on the table, propped up on an elbow, turned to face Atsumu. His knee was warm against the outside of Atsumu’s thigh. 

The server returned, and to Atsumu’s surprise, Suna declined another round of drinks.

“Hit your limit already, Sunarin?” asked Atsumu, although it was obvious Suna was nowhere close to drunk. 

“I could keep going, but I’m afraid your wallet can’t.” Suna’s smirk had become a permanent fixture on his face. “Ready to leave?”

“Yeah, sure.” Atsumu dug his wallet out of his pocket and counted out some bills. He secured them beneath his empty glass, tucked his wallet away again, and went still as Suna leaned into him.

“You know,” said Suna, his voice so close that Atsumu could almost feel warm breath against his ear, “it’s too bad you’re not into women right now. That one keeps looking over here. You could probably take her home if you wanted.”

Suna nodded across the izakaya, but Atsumu wasn’t certain who he was talking about. He wasn’t certain of anything, except Suna’s hand casually resting on his thigh. 

Atsumu swallowed, pretended he knew what Suna was talking about, and said, “Nah. Not my type, too bad for her.”

Suna huffed a laugh, his breath tickling Atsumu’s ear. “Yeah, too bad for her.” He squeezed Atsumu’s thigh, lightly, before peeling away and leaving the booth.

Atsumu swallowed. He should’ve had another few drinks, so he could blame the sudden rush of heat on the alcohol instead of the way Suna’s hand had felt, a little too far up on his thigh to be entirely appropriate. 

He was too sober for this, too sober for the way his mouth went dry when Suna looked back at him. 

“Let’s go,” said Suna. “You’re staying at my place, right? You invited yourself last week.”

Atsumu remembered doing that, but he didn’t remember what the hell he’d been thinking at the time. He certainly hadn’t considered how good Suna looked in nothing but a tiny towel, or how he had the ability to make Atsumu half-hard by doing nothing more than touching his leg and breathing in his ear. 

“I don’t wanna bother ya,” said Atsumu. He realized he was messing with his hair again and forced himself to stop. “If you’ve got plans I can stay at the hotel with the rest of the guys, it’s not-”

“You stay with me every time you’re in town, whether I want you to or not.” Suna folded his arms, one eyebrow quirking high. “Don’t start being a decent person now, it’s not a good look for you.”

Atsumu laughed despite himself. He shuffled to the end of the booth, stood, and was grateful he’d worn jeans instead of sweatpants. His semi wasn’t obvious. No one would notice.

And yet, as they left the izakaya and Suna gave him a long sideways glance, he had a feeling Suna knew.

Atsumu had been to Suna’s apartment more times than he could count. He and Osamu had first gone there to help Suna move in when he’d joined EJP, and Atsumu had been back every time he’d found himself in Shizuoka. It was a common routine, mundane even.

And yet Atsumu’s nerves buzzed beneath his skin as he kicked his shoes off and dropped his bag by the door, easing carefully into the kitchen as if he’d never been there before. 

“Can I get some water?” asked Atsumu. His mouth had gotten progressively drier over the past twenty minutes. He wanted to blame that on the alcohol, too. 

“Since when have you asked for permission to do anything?” said Suna from somewhere behind him. “Last time you were here I caught you eating my leftovers at one a.m.”

“Shut up, just tryin’ to be polite.” Atsumu chose a cup out of the cabinet and filled it from the sink. He took a few long gulps, poured out the rest, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Suna touched his arm. 

“Well stop being polite, it’s weird.” Suna took the cup out of his hand and filled it with some more water, leaning into Atsumu to reach the faucet.

Atsumu should’ve moved out of the way, should’ve given Suna some space.

But he didn’t move as Suna drank, his mouth on the same part of the cup that Atsumu’s lips had touched a moment before. His throat moved as he swallowed. 

This was stupid. They’d shared hundreds of drinks since high school. It didn’t mean anything. 

Suna put the cup in the sink, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and slowly looked over at Atsumu. 

Atsumu’s stomach lurched.

“What?” asked Suna. “Want more water?”

“No, I’m good.” 

“You sure?” Suna’s smirk pulled higher. “You look pretty thirsty.”

Atsumu’s mouth fell open but no words came out. Heat sizzled across his face. He wondered how long it would take him to walk to the hotel and realized it didn’t matter, he needed to get away from Suna even if it was clear across the city. 

“I’m not stupid, ‘Tsumu,” said Suna, when a few seconds ticked by and Atsumu was still mute. “I’ve known you since we were fifteen. I know what it looks like when you want to hook up with someone.”

Atsumu tried to tell Suna he was wrong. He tried to say anything at all, but he couldn’t scrape up a single word. He turned away, because getting out of that apartment seemed like the safest thing to do, but Suna grabbed his wrist and yanked him back around. Suna planted himself in front of Atsumu with his arms folded, blocking his way out.

Atsumu looked from the door to Suna and back again. “Move.”

“No.”

“Rintarou-”

“If you want to fuck me, just say so. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”

Atsumu’s face was so hot he thought it would melt right off. He pushed a hand through his hair, turned slightly away from Suna to try and escape the intensity of his stare, and said, “I don’t wanna fuck you. Stop makin’ shit awkward.”

“You basically eye-fucked me when I got out of the shower earlier,” said Suna, matter-of-fact. “You popped a hard-on when I touched your leg at the restaurant.”

“I did not !” said Atsumu, far too loudly. 

“Everybody saw it.”

“You’re fulla shit. Get out of my way, I’m not stayin’ here if you’re gonna-”

“Okay, okay.” Suna reached out to grip the countertop, blocking Atsumu’s path. “Nobody else saw it, only me. You’re so obvious, ‘Tsumu.”

“I’m not obvious. There’s nothin’ to be obvious about.” Atsumu looked at a spot over Suna’s shoulder instead of meeting his stare. “I don’t wanna fuck you. It’s gross. You’re gross.”

“Tell that to your boner.”

“I don’t have a-”

“Listen, I’m not trying to embarrass you, alright?” Suna took a small step back and slowly let his arm fall away. “Well… maybe I am, a little. I think it’s hilarious. But, like… I wouldn’t say no.”

Suna had moved back enough that Atsumu could’ve walked past him and left the apartment. It’s what he should’ve done. He needed to get away and try to forget any of this had ever happened. Maybe Suna would have the decency to never bring it up again.

Atsumu should’ve gone, but he didn’t move.

“What?” said Atsumu, the single word weak.

“I said,” repeated Suna, “I wouldn’t say no. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I’ll stop talking about it. Whatever you want.”

Atsumu stared at him, waiting for a laugh or a punchline or any other indication that Suna was joking, but Suna only stared back. His mouth was flattened into a neutral line instead of his earlier smirk. 

This couldn’t be happening. Not here, not with Suna.

“Well?” said Suna.

Atsumu licked his lips. They were still sweet from the last drink he’d had at the izakaya. He wished he’d gotten drunk off of it, so it would be easier to say what he wanted to say. “Are you into me?”

Suna rolled his eyes. “No. You’re a dumbass.”

Atsumu took a step toward the door.

“But you’re a hot dumbass,” said Suna with a shrug. “And I haven’t gotten laid in a long time. Too busy with the team.”

“So I’m your last resort.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Suna folded his arms and leaned against the counter, still eyeing Atsumu. “It’s not like I never jerked off to the pictures I snapped of your ass in high school.”

Atsumu gaped at him. “You what ?”

“You have a nice ass. You know that.”

“But when did you-”

“During your warm-up stretches mostly.” Suna said it without shame, as if he was unbothered to admit it. “I got some of you getting out of the shower in the locker room during third year. Those were my favorites. Kept them for a long time.”

Atsumu had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say to that. 

Suna considered him, head tilted slightly to one side. “Does that bother you?”

It should. Atsumu should be offended that Suna had taken pictures of him – naked pictures – in secret. He should feel uncomfortable with what they’d been used for, that Suna had gotten off to them.

Atsumu should be bothered, but…

“No,” he said. He made eye contact with Suna, just for a second, before looking away again. “No, it’s… it kinda turns me on.”

“Of course it does,” said Suna, although the shift of his shoulders suggested he was relieved. Maybe this conversation wasn’t as easy for him as he was pretending. “Fucking narcissist. You’ve probably jerked off to your own nudes.”

“Have not.” Atsumu folded his arms, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and unfolded them again. He wasn’t sure what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, and it seemed Suna had no objections, but he didn’t know how to go about it. He’d never tried to hook up with his best friend before. He’d never realized he wanted to. 

Suna stood upright and stepped away from the counter. He approached Atsumu slowly, almost cautiously. He grazed his fingers up the outside of Atsumu’s arm, over his elbow, and lingered at his bicep. His hand was warm and Atsumu had a sudden urge to taste Suna’s fingers.

“So,” said Suna. He met Atsumu’s eyes, held his stare as he eased closer. “Do you want to?”

Atsumu licked his lips. “I dunno. I think so. Yeah.”

“You don’t sound very sure.” Suna’s hand moved up to perch on Atsumu’s shoulder. The other one hooked into the front belt loop of Atsumu’s jeans. “But you’re looking at me like you’re sure. Are you?”

For all the years they’d known each other, Atsumu had never seen Suna this close. His eyelashes were long, a dark sweep over hazel eyes. His mouth looked soft. 

“Yeah,” whispered Atsumu. He curled a hand at Suna’s hip. It should have been weird to touch his best friend like that, but it sent an excited jolt to the pit of his stomach. Atsumu swallowed and repeated, “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Tap out if you need to,” said Suna, his mouth curling into a grin.

“Fuck you.” Atsumu squeezed Suna’s waist. He wanted to slide a hand beneath Suna’s shirt, to touch his skin, but it felt too soon. “If anybody taps out it’ll be you.”

Normally Suna would have argued, to rile Atsumu up if nothing else. He would’ve made a snide comment and provoked Atsumu into a casual fight.

But normally they weren’t standing this close, close enough that Atsumu felt the whisper of Suna’s breath across his mouth just before he kissed him.

Atsumu held his breath and braced himself for the awkwardness of kissing Suna, but it never came. There was only Suna’s warm mouth, and a hand curling at the back of his neck, and a burst of nervous excitement that made Atsumu tingle. 

Atsumu pulled away to exhale, caught another breath, and pushed forward to find Suna’s mouth again. There wasn’t the build-up that Atsumu usually felt with his hook ups, the slow rise from lukewarm to feverish. He was immediately sweltering from the first brush of Suna’s lips.

Atsumu moved forward, shuffling Suna along, and backed him against the counter. Atsumu leaned into him, one hand on the countertop and the other slipping beneath Suna’s shirt. His skin was warm and smooth against Atsumu’s palm. Atsumu parted his lips, felt Suna do the same, and took a tentative taste of Suna’s mouth. 

Suna hummed into it, so low that it could have passed for a moan. Atsumu’s cock twitched in his jeans, pressed up against Suna’s thigh. He licked further into Suna’s mouth, swiping along his teeth and meeting the warm press of his tongue. Suna’s nails dug in at the back of his neck before sliding up into his hair. He caught a grip and pulled, hard enough to sting, and Atsumu couldn’t hold back the moan that spilled from his mouth into Suna’s.

Suna rolled Atsumu’s bottom lip between his teeth before pulling back with a grin, his eyes hooded. “This is what you get for running your mouth about all your hook ups. I know what you like.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Atsumu studied Suna, perfectly at ease pinned against the counter, and wondered why he’d never thought of doing this before. He licked his lips and ducked his head to rub his nose against the line of Suna’s neck. “You don’t talk ‘bout it as much, but you still talk. I know what you like, too.” Atsumu licked a long stripe up the length of Suna’s neck, exhaled a cool breath over the damp skin, and bit down.

Suna’s hips bucked, nearly hard enough to force Atsumu a step back. 

“ Fuck .” They said it together, Suna’s voice low and husky, Atsumu stunned by the hard press against his hip. Suna curled a hand at Atsumu’s jaw and urged his face up, pulling him into another kiss, Atsumu’s mouth seared from the heat of it.

Suna’s hand pushed underneath Atsumu’s shirt, gliding up his stomach, settling on his chest. It rested there as Suna licked deep into Atsumu’s mouth, and then he pinched Atsumu’s nipple, hard .

Atsumu bit down on Suna’s lip, jolting away from the pinch. Suna hissed and pushed him, a hand flying up to touch his own mouth.

“Oww, what the fuck?” said Suna, dabbing at his lip. He studied his fingertips as if expecting blood but there wasn’t any. “Just because I like biting doesn’t mean I want my lip torn off.”

“It’s your fault, you startled me!” said Atsumu, rubbing at his nipple through his shirt. “The hell was that for?”

“You like when people touch your nipples.”

“Yeah, touch ‘em, not fuckin’ amputate ‘em.”

They scowled at each other, briefly nursing their respective wounds. The moment dragged on, until Suna’s pout gave way to a half-smile and Atsumu couldn’t keep himself from laughing. 

“This is stupid,” he said, eyeing Suna’s mouth. His bottom lip was shiny and swollen, but he thought that was mostly from the kissing. 

“Yeah.” Suna licked his lips. “Want to keep going?”

Atsumu didn’t pause to think about it. “Yeah, I do.”

“Don’t bite my lip again,” said Suna. “I need to keep my face pretty.” He stood upright and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly aside. His shoulders were broad, chest toned. His waist was narrow and Atsumu wanted to hold it, to see how big his hands would look wrapped around Suna’s waist.  

He realized he was allowed to do that, at least for tonight, and threw his own shirt off before stepping closer. Suna’s skin was warm, a shade paler than Atsumu’s hands. His thumbs nestled on either side of Suna’s navel. 

“Okay,” said Atsumu. “I won’t bite your lip if you don’t try and yank my fuckin’ nipples off again.”

“Fine.” Suna placed a hand on Atsumu’s chest. He thumbed Atsumu’s abused nipple gently, rubbing it in slow circles. Atsumu’s cock throbbed in his jeans. “Better?”

“Yeah. Better.” Atsumu leaned in to kiss him again, pulling Suna in until their bare skin touched. Atsumu rocked against Suna’s thigh, seeking a taste of relief. He didn’t know if he’d ever gotten so hard so fast. Maybe that meant something, but now wasn’t the time to stop and think about it.

Their hands roamed as they kissed, Atsumu tracing Suna’s spine, Suna mapping out Atsumu’s chest. It was nice to have Suna’s hands on him, to have Suna underneath his own, but it wasn’t enough.

Suna seemed to agree. “Hey,” he said, pulling away to catch his breath. He wiped his spit-slick mouth on Atsumu’s shoulder. “Let me fuck you.”

Atsumu rubbed the saliva off of him and smeared it on Suna’s sweatpants instead. “Ain’t that the point?”

“Well yeah, but… let me fuck you.”

Atsumu opened his mouth to repeat himself, but the intensity of Suna’s stare drew him short. Gradually, his hands still wrapped around a narrow waist, he realized what Suna meant.

“Oh,” said Atsumu. He blinked, looked down at his hands, and then back up at Suna. “Yeah, okay.”

Suna’s eyebrow rose. “Really? Just like that?”

Atsumu shrugged. “Why not?”

“Who knew you were so easy.”

“Hey!” Atsumu took an offended step back, but Suna anchored him with a hand curled into the waistband of his jeans. “I’m not easy, asshole.”

“I’m joking.” Suna tugged Atsumu close again. “I thought you’d say no. I know you don’t usually bottom.”

That was true, but it wasn’t necessarily a matter of personal preference. Atsumu had rarely had ongoing relationships with men. Most of his male-on-male affairs had been one-night stands, and he always insisted on topping because he didn’t trust a stranger not to hurt him.

But Suna wasn’t a stranger, and despite Atsumu’s still-sensitive nipple, he trusted him.

“I guess I can make an exception since you want me so bad,” said Atsumu with a grin. “Tell me again how long you’ve been thinkin’ about fuckin’ me. Since high school? That’s embarassin’ for you.”

“No, what’s embarrassing is how hard your dick got at the restaurant when I was just sitting beside you.”

“Fuck you Sunarin, you were tryin’ to get me going. You did that on purpose.”

“Yeah, I wanted to see what would happen.” Suna unhooked his fingers from the band of Atsumu’s jeans and cupped his dick through the denim. Atsumu rocked into his palm with a sigh. “Guess you’re just horny for anybody who looks your way.”

Atsumu would’ve shoved him and stormed away if that hand hadn’t felt so good rubbing against him. “That’s not true and you know it. Nobody could watch you walkin’ around the locker room in that fuckin’ scrap of towel and not think you’re hot.”

“Aww, you think I’m hot?”

“If we’re gonna do this then stop talkin’ and let’s do it.” Atsumu smacked Suna’s hand away, immediately regretted it, and crowded in to yank at Suna’s sweatpants. “Take me to your bedroom.”

“Actually,” said Suna, as Atsumu stripped him, “I kind of want to fuck you on the couch.”

Atsumu went still with a handful of Suna’s underwear, the sweatpants already caught around Suna’s ankles. “Is this a plan? Did you plan this?”

“No. I just think about it sometimes.”

“You’re a pervert.”

“Is that a no?”

“Fine, we’ll fuck on the couch, whatever.” Atsumu yanked down Suna’s underwear, took a moment to appreciate Suna’s cock when it sprang free, and stepped back to tug at the button of his own jeans. 

“Here, I’ve got it.” Suna kicked out of his clothes and reached out to work off Atsumu’s. The denim was so snug around Atsumu’s thighs that it took both of them to wrangle him free, but when he stood nude, Suna’s fingers drifted down to graze along the length of his cock. Atsumu shivered but stepped into it, wanting more and frowning when Suna pulled away.

“What?” said Atsumu, reaching down to give himself a stroke. “You’ve been daydreamin’ about it for years, go ahead and touch it.”

Suna rolled his eyes. “Don’t want to get you excited, you’ll come too fast and ruin everything.”

“I have never- ”

“Couch, c’mon,” said Suna. He stepped past Atsumu, pausing only long enough to give him a smart smack on the ass. 

Atsumu grumbled, pretended he wasn’t blushing, and followed Suna out of the kitchen. 

The couch didn’t seem big enough for two taller-than-average athletes to comfortably lie on, much less fuck on, but Atsumu wasn’t about to ruin Suna’s little fantasy. He took a step around, intending to plop down on the cushions, but Suna said, “No, over here. This side.”

Atsumu hesitated, confused, and joined Suna at the back of the couch. 

“Here.” Suna maneuvered Atsumu around, his hands warm at Atsumu’s hips. He arranged him to face the back of the couch, thighs bumping into it, and pressed a hand right between Atsumu’s shoulderblades. “Bend over.”

Atsumu blinked, glanced back at him, and suddenly understood. “You don’t wanna fuck me on the couch. You wanna fuck me over the couch.”

“Whatever you want to call it.” Suna’s hand pressed harder. “That cool?”

Atsumu imagined being bent over with Suna slamming into him and couldn’t think of a single good reason to say no. “Fine.” He gave into the nudge of Suna’s hand and bent over the back of the couch, his cock nudging against it. The tops of the back cushions were soft against his stomach and he braced himself on his elbows, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and his cock twitched as Suna moved behind him. 

A hand tickled the back of Atsumu’s thigh, finding a warm grip and squeezing. Suna felt his way up slowly, thumb trailing enticingly close to Atsumu’s balls as he moved to knead Atsumu’s asscheek. It was a thrilling taste of apprehension as Suna made his way closer to Atsumu’s hole, his thumb barely brushing the rim before he pulled away completely. Atsumu shivered, started to say something, but got distracted as Suna’s bare skin pressed against him. Suna folded over Atsumu, his hair brushing Atsumu’s shoulder, as he dipped a hand between the couch cushions and fished out a small bottle of lube.

“In the couch?” said Atsumu, turning his head to watch as Suna straightened. “Seriously? How many guys do you fuck right here?”

“Only a few dozen,” said Suna, as he clicked open the lube. “I take most of them to bed.”

Atsumu might’ve believed that, if he hadn’t known Suna so well. But he did know him, and he knew Suna hadn’t hooked up with that many men in the past ten years, and definitely not since he’d moved into this apartment two years ago. He was at maybe three since the move and one of those was only a suspicion.

“Slut,” mumbled Atsumu, earning a huffed laugh from Suna. “Use a condom, I don’t want whatever you picked up from a few dozen hook-ups.”

“Sure,” said Suna. “Find one for me.”

Atsumu stared at the cushion below him. “In the couch?”

“Yup.”

“What’s literally wrong with you?”

“You’re the one letting me fuck you over the couch,” said Suna. “What’s literally wrong with you?”

Atsumu sighed and shoved a hand between the cushions. “I dunno. Lots of things probably.” He dug a little deeper, felt a pointed edge of something that may have been a foil condom wrapper, but completely forgot what he was looking for when a cool, wet finger traced a slow trail from the base of his balls up to his rim. Atsumu instinctively twitched away, but there was nowhere to go. His cock bumped into the back of the couch and the finger followed him, tracing slow circles that made Atsumu’s face flush hot. 

“Hey, Rintarou?” said Atsumu, his voice surprisingly level considering how unsteady his breathing had become.

“Hmm?”

Atsumu swallowed as Suna’s finger dipped in, just barely, before returning to slow circles. “Did you just want me like this so you can look at my ass?”

Suna laughed, low and deep, as he eased a finger inside of Atsumu. “You got me.”

Atsumu had been fingered before, enough times that it wasn’t a new experience. And yet during those past occasions he didn’t shake every time the fingers curled inside him, or bury his face in his arm to fight back his moans, or have to stop himself from rutting against the nearest available surface. 

Getting fingered was one thing, but getting fingered by Suna Rintarou was something completely different.

“Sunarin,” said Atsumu, when Suna was three fingers deep and Atsumu was sweating as if he’d ran laps around the stadium. “I need ya to stop.”

“Why’s that?” asked Suna, sliding in and out of Atsumu at a slow pace that was sheer torture.

Atsumu’s hips gave a little kick and he struggled to stop them. “Just… stop, alright? Fuck me now. I’m ready.”

Suna hummed, sank back inside of Atsumu, and curled his fingers in a way that made Atsumu’s back arch. “I think I’ll keep going for a while. I want to make sure you’re prepped well enough.”

Atsumu could have screamed; both from frustration and from the orgasm that was being held at bay by sheer willpower. “Rintarou, I’m serious. That’s enough, it’s good, I’m ready. Just fuckin’… shit. Stop .”

Suna gave in with a sigh, removing his fingers so slowly that it was almost a caress against Atsumu’s rim. Atsumu gritted his teeth, pressed his forehead into the couch cushion, and pretended his cock wasn’t throbbing.

“What’s the problem, ‘Tsumu?” asked Suna. He smoothed his clean hand up the line of Atsumu’s back and gently tugged at his hair. “Were you about to come?”

“Shut up.”

“Do you need a cock ring? I’ll let you borrow one if you ask real nice.”

“If you don’t stop bein’ a dick I’ll put my clothes on and leave.”

Suna laughed as if he didn’t believe that, as if he knew Atsumu wouldn’t willingly go anywhere until they were finished. 

Atsumu knew Suna, and Suna knew him just as well.

“Fine,” said Suna. “Did you find that condom?”

Atsumu had forgotten condoms even existed. “No. Doesn’t matter. Just fuck me.”

Suna teased a fingertip into Atsumu and he jolted forward. “I don’t think so. You’re only saying that because you’re desperate.”

“I am not. I just want you to get on with it already.”

“You can wait.” Suna patted Atsumu’s ass and circled the couch. Atsumu raised his head to watch him, focused on the way Suna’s cock dipped every time he took a step. He could tease Atsumu all he wanted, but he was clearly as desperate for this as Atsumu was.

Suna rested one knee against a cushion and fished through the crevasse between them, his dick so close that Atsumu could see the dark flush of it, the way it twitched when Atsumu slowly licked his lips.

Suna plucked out a condom, but before he could back away, Atsumu reached out to squeeze his thigh.

“Wait,” said Atsumu. He craned his head back to look at Suna’s face. “Lemme suck you off for a minute.”

Suna stared down at him, eyes hooded. “Thought you wanted my dick in you. You said to get on with it already.”

Atsumu had said that, and he still meant it, but he also thought he would come in five seconds flat after Suna’s first thrust into him. He needed a few minutes to recover. “In my mouth is still in me. Don’t you want to? I know you like gettin’ head.”

Suna threaded his fingers through Atsumu’s hair, gently. Atsumu anticipated a hard pull, but it never came. Suna released him and stood to circle back behind the couch.

Atsumu pushed up higher on his elbows. “C’mon, why don’t you wanna-”

“It’s a bad angle, you’ll hurt your neck like that.” Suna smacked Atsumu’s ass and squeezed it lightly before letting go. “Get on your knees.”

Atsumu stood upright and pointedly ignored the rush of heat to his cock, courtesy of Suna’s command. He forced a sneer and said, “No wonder you never get laid. That was lame as hell.”

Suna rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be sexy.”

“Obviously.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t know I was still trying to seduce you.” Suna raised an eyebrow and glanced down the length of Atsumu’s naked body. “Look like I did a pretty good job.”

“You should do better,” said Atsumu, casually leaning back against the couch. “I might get bored and change my mind.”

“You’re full of shit.”

Atsumu grinned. His cock ached for attention, but he kept his hands safely away from it. He didn’t want Suna to know how needy he felt.

“Fine,” said Suna. His expression shifted, eyes going sharper. He stepped close and gripped Atsumu’s jaw in one hand, fingers digging into Atsumu’s cheeks just shy of painful. Suna held his stare and said, his voice low and rough in a way Atsumu had never heard it, “Get on your knees for me, ‘Tsumu. I’m gonna fuck your throat until you gag on my cock.”

Atsumu didn’t get on his knees. He didn’t do anything. He only stared back at Suna, wide-eyed, feeling as if he’d been ignited from the inside out.

That shouldn’t have been so hot. Suna shouldn’t have been so hot. How had Atsumu been friends with him for so long and never realized he could be like this?

Suna snorted a laugh, a crooked smile tilting his mouth. “You’re so predictable. I knew you liked being bossed around.” He patted the side of Atsumu’s face and took a step back. “But seriously, do you want to suck me off or not?”

Somehow this Suna, the genuine Suna, was just as hot as the one from a moment before. 

Atsumu thought maybe he was making a mistake. He shouldn’t be doing this with Suna. This could change things between them, maybe forever, and Atsumu didn’t want that. Suna was his best friend. If things went bad after this…

“’Tsumu?” A frown settled onto Suna’s face. It looked out of place. “You okay?”

Atsumu glanced down, where Suna’s dick stood hard, waiting. They were both stripped bare, turned on, and clearly willing to keep going. Even if Atsumu stopped this now, it was too late. They’d already crossed a line. There was no way to go back to the way things had been an hour ago, and Atsumu wasn’t certain if he wanted to. 

He liked kissing Suna. He liked seeing him naked. And he was pretty sure he would like sucking his dick.

Atsumu dropped to his knees, hard enough that it would’ve hurt if he didn’t have a lifetime of impacts on hard gym floors. He curled a hand around the back of Suna’s thigh, nudging him closer, and licked his lips as he looked up at Suna.

“You’re ‘bout to get the blowjob of your life,” said Atsumu.

Suna huffed a laugh that cut into a choked sound as Atsumu wrapped his mouth around Suna’s cock.

It wasn’t Atsumu’s first time sucking a dick, or the second or the third. He didn’t know how many there had been for sure. He’d stopped counting. But he had experience, and if Suna hadn’t known that already by all the risqué stories Atsumu had shared, Atsumu would have proven it with the way he took Suna’s cock to the back of his throat.

Suna’s hips jolted, pushing in a little further. His hands dug into Atsumu’s hair and curled tight, and Atsumu’s moan was muffled by his full mouth. Atsumu tilted his head back to look up at Suna, his own cock twitching at the dark flush blooming across Suna’s cheeks. 

Atsumu was no longer thinking this might be a mistake. He was only wondering why they hadn’t done this before.

He slurped back to the tip of Suna’s cock, dragging his tongue along the length, one hand clutching Suna’s thigh and the other creeping higher to toy with his balls. He licked the tip, grinned up at Suna, and took it to the back of his throat again. This time it was Suna who moaned, low and deep as he tugged at Atsumu’s hair. Atsumu wanted to touch himself but couldn’t take his hands off of Suna long enough to do it. 

Suna didn’t let him go on for long. Atsumu’s jaw hadn’t even begun to ache when Suna tugged him off by his hair, taking a step back and squeezing the base of his cock. Suna’s breathing was heavy, a faint sheen of sweat dusting his chest and shoulders. 

“Done already?” asked Atsumu, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thought you were gonna fuck my throat ‘til I gagged. I ain’t gagged yet.”

“That’s because you’re a whore,” said Suna flatly, still gripping his own cock. His voice gave nothing away, but he was clearly affected. Atsumu thought if he’d had thirty more seconds he would’ve made Suna come. “If you hadn’t had a hundred dicks down your throat maybe you’d still have a gag reflex.”

Atsumu shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t hear you complainin’ about it.”

Suna’s eyes dipped down. Atsumu casually stroked his own cock, his grin pulling wider. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” asked Atsumu. “C’mere and I’ll keep goin’.”

Suna didn’t move.

“What’s wrong, Sunarin?” Atsumu spread his knees wider and mimicked Suna’s taunt from earlier. “Were you about to come?”

“I changed my mind,” said Suna, eyes stuck to Atsumu. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Atsumu laughed, gave himself one final stroke, and rose to his feet. He moved close to Suna, a hand gripping a narrow waist, their cocks bumping. Suna tilted his head for a kiss as Atsumu leaned in but Atsumu licked his mouth and pulled away again.

“Okay, I’m ready now,” said Atsumu. He bent over the back of the couch in the same position Suna had placed him in earlier; ass up, arms folded on the cushion, the tip of his cock smearing precum on the couch. “But if you really don’t wanna, that’s fine. I’ll finish myself off. Get me a dildo or somethin’, I know you’ve got a whole collection.”

“That’s not true,” said Suna from somewhere behind him. “I’ve never used a dildo in my life.”

Atsumu snorted. “Fuckin’ liar.”

Gentle fingertips grazed the curve of Atsumu’s ass, lightly enough that he shivered. Suna’s hand landed more firmly, kneading, his thumb dipping between Atsumu’s cheeks before pulling away completely. Atsumu stopped himself from pushing back to chase the touch. He didn’t want to seem needy.

Suna probably knew anyway. He always seemed to know too much.

There was a metallic rip of foil, a quiet moment that must have been Suna rolling on the condom. Atsumu kept his head down and his eyes closed, listening to the click of a bottle and the wet slide of lube, anticipation buzzing in his veins. His cock was aching to be touched and his ass was aching to be filled. Suna’s fingers had been divine. His cock would be even better.

Suna caressed Atsumu’s ass again, and something hard and wet pressed at him. “Having any second thoughts?”

“My only thought is I wish you’d stop stallin’ and fuck me already.”

Suna tapped the inside of Atsumu’s thigh. “Spread your legs.” It was the same deep voice he’d used earlier, the one that was unfamiliar but enticing. Atsumu moved his feet apart, and when a hand pressed down on his back, he bent further forward. He’d felt vulnerable earlier and now he was even more exposed, every part of himself on display for Suna’s sharp eyes.

Atsumu liked it. 

“I’ll say this once,” said Suna, his thumb grazing back and forth over the curve of Atsumu’s ass, “and never again. I’ll deny it if you ever tell anyone. But… you’re gorgeous as fuck, ‘Tsumu.”

Suna had already said he was hot, but something about this – gorgeous – was different. Atsumu gritted his teeth so he wouldn’t moan and wiggled his hips in the air, encouraging Suna to do something, anything.

He got a smack to the ass, and pressed his face into the couch cushion to muffle his moan. A hand curled at his waist and Suna’s cock pressed more insistently against him, still not pushing in. Suna said, “Tell me if you want to stop.”

Atsumu shook his head and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t want to.”

Suna’s exhale of breath was quiet. His nails dug in as he tightened his grip and he slowly sank into Atsumu.

Suna had spent plenty of time – too much time – stretching him open, so there was no pain as his cock pushed in. But it was different than having Suna’s fingers curling inside of him, and Atsumu panted against the couch as he was filled.

Atsumu rarely hooked up with his fellow athletes. It was better to keep his professional and private lives separate, and he valued his career too much to risk it on a quick fling. 

Which meant he’d rarely been fucked by someone as tall as himself, with a proportionately sized cock that gradually split him in half.

Atsumu refused to drool on Suna’s couch. He swallowed, hard, and bit his lip as he was filled a little more. “ Sunarin .”

One of Suna’s hands was on Atsumu’s ass, spreading him open. The other was still at his waist, holding tight as Suna nudged his hips forward. “Yeah?”

Atsumu didn’t answer, wasn’t sure what he’d planned to say at all.

Suna stopped. Atsumu thought he’d bottomed out, but it didn’t seem right. There wasn’t that satisfying feeling of skin against skin. A cushion of air still separated them.

“Is it too much?” asked Suna. He pulled back a little. “We don’t have to-”

“If you stop now we’re not friends anymore,” said Atsumu, the words tight from a clenched jaw. “Unless I say stop, don’t fuckin’ stop.”

Suna’s dick twitched inside him and Atsumu rutted forward against the couch. “Fuck,” said Suna. “Okay.” He pushed in again, still careful, and sank even deeper. With one more nudge he was buried whole, his hips flush against Atsumu’s ass, both of them exhaling a heavy breath at the feeling. Suna gave a few gentle thrusts, barely pulling out before sinking in again.

“Didn’t think you’d be this tight,” said Suna, his voice breathy.

“Why, ‘cause I sleep around?” Atsumu rocked back to urge Suna on. “Don’t be a dick.”

“No, didn’t mean it like that.” Suna gave a slow, deep thrust. “You just feel good. Really good.”

“I’d feel better if you’d stop playin’ around and fuck me for real.”

Suna’s breathy laugh was cut by a moan as Atsumu pushed back against him. “Okay. Yeah, okay. But stop me if it’s too much. For real.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Atsumu, because he thought Suna wouldn’t fuck him until he agreed. “I’ll stop ya. Just get on with it, fuck .”

Suna shifted closer, a knee knocking against the inside of Atsumu’s leg. A hand caressed Atsumu’s asscheek, traveled up to trace the line of his spine, and drifted back down again. 

Atsumu opened his mouth to say something else, to tell Suna to stop stalling, but the words were clipped into a punched groan as Suna fucked into him. 

He’d been gentle at first. Atsumu hadn’t realized how gentle.

Atsumu was pushed further into the cushion with each thrust, the back of the couch digging into his stomach in a way that might have been painful if he’d been less focused on the toe-curling piston of Suna’s hips. 

“Oh fuck,” said Atsumu, the words blending into the loud slap of skin against skin. “Shit. Sunarin. Fuuuuck …”

Suna grabbed a handful of Atsumu’s hair and held tight as he fucked him harder. Atsumu moaned, shameless, and shuffled his feet to spread his legs further apart.

His mouth was wet. He was definitely drooling on Suna’s couch.

“You can get louder than that,” said Suna, thrusting in and grinding deep inside Atsumu. His voice was strained. “I heard you through the hotel wall at that tournament last year.”

Atsumu pushed back against Suna, taking him deeper. His cock ached and he resisted the need to rut against the couch. “Fuckin’ perv. You were prob’ly in your room jerkin’ off, wishin’ it was you.”

Suna squeezed Atsumu’s asscheek, almost hard enough to hurt.

Atsumu grinned into the damp cushion and said, “Maybe I was louder ‘cause I was gettin’ fucked better.”

Despite Suna’s condescending judgment over the years about Atsumu’s need to be the best, he was just as competitive.

Suna tightened his grip in Atsumu’s hair, yanked his head back, and fucked him like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Atsumu didn’t try to be quiet. He couldn’t have, not with the stinging of his scalp and the impact of Suna’s cock slamming deep enough to leave him gasping. He caught his breath and moaned, loud enough to drown out the wet squelch of lube, loud enough that Suna’s neighbors must have heard. Suna smacked his ass and Atsumu’s yelp quickly tapered back into a string of moans.

Suna gave his hair one last pull before curling both hands at Atsumu’s waist, digging in and driving Atsumu’s hips back to meet his thrusts. Atsumu gasped and clawed for purchase until he caught a stabilizing grip at the edge of the couch.

Atsumu’s cock throbbed. He would’ve done anything for Suna to touch him, to jerk him off until he came across the floor. He’d never come untouched, but he thought this was as close as he’d ever been, thought if Suna hit his prostate in just the right way…

Suna thrust deep, groaned under his breath, and pulled all the way out. Atsumu whined at the loss, hips kicking back in search of Suna’s cock. Suna squeezed his ass, holding him still as he fumbled with something behind Atsumu, out of view. 

“Rintarou, the fuck’re you-”

“Shut up,” said Suna, his voice breathy. “I’m about to come.”

“Then keep fuckin’ me until ya do.”

“No, I want to…” Suna’s voice trailed off. He moved close again, but didn’t push back into Atsumu. There was a wet sound that was unmistakably his hand jerking his cock at a quick and desperate pace.

Atsumu whined again, rocking against the couch for a taste of relief. “Rin…”

“Hang on, I’m almost… fuck …” 

Suna was quiet as he came. Atsumu wouldn’t have even known except for the hot stripes that fell across his ass, dripping down to the creases of his thighs. Atsumu pressed his face into the cushion and moaned, his cock jumping at the feeling of it.

Suna panted behind him, his breath the loudest thing in the sudden silence of the room. Something smeared through the mess of come on Atsumu’s ass, and Atsumu thought it was the head of Suna’s cock. He only realized when it slipped between his cheeks, pushing warm come inside of Atsumu, that it was Suna’s fingers.

Atsumu’s cock throbbed and he clamped down, his lip stinging as he bit into it. 

“Rin.” Atsumu’s voice was weaker than he would have liked, and far more desperate than he would ever acknowledge. “Rin, please.”

“Fuck, ‘Tsumu.” Suna pulled his fingers out, leaving only the tips to tease at Atsumu’s rim. “If you knew how you look right now.”

“I don’t care, if I don’t get off right now I’ll fuckin’ die, please .”

“Okay,” said Suna, but instead of giving Atsumu what he needed, he pulled away completely. “Hold on.”

“I can’t hold on, what the fuck, just touch me .”

“I have to get a picture. It’ll be really quick, promise.” Suna hesitated, and added, “Is that okay?

Atsumu had never been so conflicted in his life. He felt if he didn’t get off in the next thirty seconds that he wouldn’t live to see morning, but the thought of Suna taking a photo of him like this, exposed and covered in come, to jerk off to in the future…

Atsumu bit his lip harder.

“ Hurry .”

Suna shuffled away and Atsumu counted his breaths to try and stay grounded, his entire body twitching and shivering as if he had a fever. Suna’s come was cooling on his skin but it continued to drip lower down his thighs. 

Atsumu tried to remember the last time he’d been this turned on and couldn’t. Maybe it was never. Maybe this was the most desperate for an orgasm he’d ever been.

The snap of a camera shutter was startling. He twitched, and then Suna’s hand was on his ass, caressing the curve of it as there was another snap. Suna’s thumb dipped between his cheeks, easing into him. Snap .

“Sunarin…”

“Just a second, ‘Tsumu.” Suna spread his asscheeks apart with one hand. Snap .

“ Suna! ”

“Okay, okay.” There was a thump near Atsumu’s head as Suna’s phone was tossed onto the couch cushion. “I’ve got you.” Suna’s fingers were back, scooping up his own come and pushing it inside of Atsumu as he sank three fingers deep.

Atsumu’s back arched and he moaned as Suna fingerfucked him, the slide smoothed by a wet mix of come and lube. 

Finally Suna reached between Atsumu’s legs to touch his cock, his hand curling into a loose fist as he stroked him. Atsumu bucked into his hand, the kick of his hips erratic as his orgasm ignited. 

“Rintarou, fuck, please , don’t stop touching me, don’t stop… oh god, oh fuck, Rin-” 

Atsumu shouted as Suna’s fingers pressed deep, his hand twisting around Atsumu’s cock in just the right way to pull him over the edge. Atsumu rocked desperately against Suna’s hand as he peaked, squeezing around Suna’s fingers and shooting hot come across the back of the couch. His moans weakened into little whines as Suna eased out and gave him one final stroke before letting go. Atsumu stayed there, bent over the couch and covered in come.

Fingers grazed Atsumu’s ribs. “Stand up. You’re about to melt into the couch.”

“Can’t,” grunted Atsumu. “Never movin’ again.”

Suna huffed a laugh and peeled Atsumu upright. Atsumu immediately slumped into the floor and his weight dragged Suna down with him. They sat with their backs against the couch, one of Suna’s legs draped over Atsumu’s, Atsumu’s shoulder pressed into a damp patch of his own come.

“I feel like I need a cigarette,” said Suna, leaning his head back against the couch.

Atsumu closed his eyes. He was still drifting down from his orgasm, his limbs pleasantly weightless. “You’ve never touched a cigarette in your life.”

“Yeah, but people smoke after a good fuck, right? It’s what they do in the movies.”

Atsumu snorted. “You’re dumb.”

Suna nudged him with an elbow. “ You’re dumb.”

A few dragging moments went by. The silence should have been awkward considering what they’d just done, but it was comfortable. Atsumu said, “So. You think I’m a good fuck.”

Suna hummed. “You’re decent.”

Atsumu levered an eyelid open to find Suna smirking at him. “Asshole.”

“Wasn’t the worst I’ve ever had,” continued Suna, still grinning. “I’ll give you some notes to work on for next time.”

“Fuck off.” Atsumu kicked at him and ignored the slide of come under his thigh. “That was the best you’ve ever had and you know it.”

Suna didn’t respond, and they fell into a short lapse of silence again. Atsumu studied the spray of come that he’d left on the floor and wondered if Suna would make him clean it up. Then he studied Suna himself; the long lines of his legs, his lean torso, the curve of his soft cock. He glanced up to meet Suna’s stare and realized Suna had been watching him.

“So,” said Suna. “You think we’ll regret it in the morning?”

Atsumu almost blurted no automatically, but took a moment to consider.

He’d fucked his best friend. There were a hundred ways that could go wrong on a personal level, not even considering their careers. Objectively it had been a bad idea from the start.

But Atsumu wouldn’t have taken it back, not for anything.

“Nah.” He dropped a hand onto Suna’s knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “No way we’ll have regrets, it was too good.”

“So you think I’m a good fuck,” said Suna, mimicking Atsumu.

Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, you’re a good fuck. You want a medal or somethin’?”

“Wouldn’t turn it down.”

Atsumu kicked him, not hard enough to hurt. “Fuck off and show me those pervy pictures you took. If they’re bad I’m makin’ you delete ‘em.”

“You say that like it was a big inconvenience for you,” said Suna. He pushed himself to his feet and reached over the back of the couch to fumble for his phone. “I know you liked it. It turned you on.” He plopped back down on the floor beside Atsumu. “That really tracks with your rampant narcissism.”

“Changed my mind. I’ll regret this in the mornin’. I regret it right now.”

Suna grinned but said nothing as he unlocked his phone and went to his photos.

Atsumu watched him. His body and his eyelids were getting heavier by the second. He said, “Hey, Rin?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I stay over tonight?”

Suna slid him a glance. “Isn’t that why you’re here? You always stay with me when you’re in town.”

“Well yeah, but… usually we don’t fuck. Wanna make sure it’s still cool.”

Suna clicked his phone screen off. “It’s cool. To me, anyway. Do you feel weird about it?”

Maybe he should have felt awkward sitting naked in Suna’s floor, covered in come and fresh from a good fuck, but he didn’t. “No. Don’t feel weird.” He stretched his legs out. They were stiff from standing in the same position for so long. “I think after that I can sleep in your bed though, instead of on that cheap ass futon in your closet.”

Suna snorted. “As long as you don’t steal the blankets, sure.” He clicked on his phone again, resuming his review of the photos.

Atsumu studied him again, lingering on the lines of his profile, and eventually said, “Hey, Rin?”

Suna glanced at him.

“You should let me fuck you in the mornin’,” said Atsumu. “Show ya how it’s done.”

Atsumu was tense in the split second before Suna responded, but when he received a trademark eye roll in response, he relaxed. 

“Bullshit,” said Suna. “You were slobbering everywhere, don’t even try and say I didn’t fuck you right.” He swiped through a couple of pictures and added, “But yeah, you can fuck me.”

If Atsumu hadn’t been so drained he might have asked for a second round right then. But he didn’t think he could stand up, much less fuck Suna into oblivion the way he would like, so he simply scooted closer and said, “Show me the pictures.”

It should have been weird looking at his own exposed and debauched body as casually as if they were skimming through photos from their last match, but it wasn’t. If he’d been less tired, Atsumu thought it would’ve been hot. Maybe he was a narcissist, or maybe he just liked how focused Suna was when he zoomed in on Atsumu’s ass.

“Pervert,” mumbled Atsumu, leaning into Suna’s shoulder.

Suna hummed but didn’t argue.

“In the mornin’ I get pictures of you, too,” said Atsumu. “It’s only fair.”

“Oh, you want to jerk off to my nudes?” Suna grinned. “Who’s the real pervert here?”

“You.” Atsumu kissed Suna’s jaw before he thought about what he was doing, and struggled to his feet so he didn’t have to see Suna’s reaction. “Can I shower?”

“After you clean up your mess, sure.”

Atsumu leaned half his weight on the couch to gape down at Suna. “The mess is your fault! All of this is your fault.”

“You get come all over my apartment and have the audacity to blame me?” said Suna. He hefted himself to his feet and dusted himself off, although he was significantly cleaner than Atsumu. “Next time I’m at your place I’m getting off all over your stupid shiny kitchen counter. We’ll see how you like it.”

Atsumu thought that he would very much like that.

“That a promise?” he asked, as Suna started toward the bathroom and he slowly followed.

Suna paused to glance over his shoulder. “Do you want it to be?”

Atsumu licked his lips. He’d bitten the bottom one so hard that it stung. “Yeah.”

The tilt of Suna’s smirk was there for only a second. “Then yeah,” he said as he turned away. “It’s a promise.”