Chapter Text
They have a system in the form of identical bracelets made of slim black leather. When one of them wears it, it's a signal that the other basically has blanket consent to do anything they want to them, at any time. Within their discussed likes and dislikes, of course, and with their usual traffic light safe word system still in effect. Still, it's a huge thrill for both of them to spot their partner wearing the bracelet, silently agreeing to be used as a fucktoy.
Kiyoomi comes home from a very, very long day. He's grumpy and exhausted and starving, and the pleasant aroma of food hits him like a truck and makes his mouth water. But what excites him even more is Atsumu, standing in the kitchen cooking, the familiar black leather wrapped loosely around his wrist.
Atsumu doesn't even have time to turn around and properly greet his husband before Kiyoomi reaches around him to turn the stove off, grabbing both his arms and unceremoniously bending him over the counter. His cock is already getting hard in his slacks and he grinds against Atsumu's ass, which is only covered by a pair of thin sweatpants. God, it feels good.
"Rough day, Omi?" Atsumu sing-songs from under him, and Kiyoomi answers with another roll of his hips that makes Atsumu groan as well. Not feeling very patient, Kiyoomi pins Atsumu's hands behind his back and pulls his sweatpants down, a broken sound spilling from his lips as he sees the base of a plug nestled perfectly in between Atsumu's cheeks.
"Baby, you're killing me," he groans, pinning Atsumu's hands behind his back with one hand and feverishly undoing his slacks with the other. Atsumu just chuckles, pushing backwards to grind his bare ass against the twitching bulge in Kiyoomi's underwear. Kiyoomi growls and pushes his boxers down, not willing to wait a second longer than necessary. He grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out, tossing it aside and hearing it clatter against the floor.
"If ya break it, yer buyin' me a new one," Atsumu says with humour, and Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. He knows for a fact that Atsumu has a very large collection of plugs, and this isn't even close to being his favourite.
"Big talk for someone who's about to be stuffed full of cock," Kiyoomi says in a rough voice before lining himself up with Atsumu's lubed-up entrance.
If Atsumu had a smartass reply, it's interrupted by the twin groans from them as Kiyoomi sinks into his husband. Kiyoomi briefly wonders how it still feels so amazing every time, but then his brain goes hazy with need and pleasure and he starts to move, setting a brutal pace almost immediately. Atsumu moans and writhes under him, getting off on being used and being unable to do anything except take it. Kiyoomi pushes all his frustrations into his thrusts, watching Atsumu's ass jiggle every time Kiyoomi bottoms out. He fucks into his husband mercilessly, chasing the release his body is screaming for, throwing his head back and cursing as he drives all of his tension into Atsumu's body.
He doesn't last long, and he hadn't planned to. Kiyoomi bends over to nip at Atsumu's neck before sucking a hickey into the skin, panting against his ear.
"You feel so good, fuck, I'm gonna come."
"Do it," Atsumu gasps under him, and the hitch in his voice tells Kiyoomi that he's close as well. "Come in me, c'mon, oh sweetheart , fuck me."
Kiyoomi straightens himself up and grabs Atsumu's hip with one hand, the other still keeping his wrists pinned against his lower back. He uses his grip to drive his hips even harder, to fuck his husband even deeper, chasing both of their peaks.
Atsumu comes first, likely already riled up from prepping himself and having the plug in him. He groans and curses as he spasms, drool pooling on the kitchen counter as he comes untouched on Kiyoomi's cock. His ass milks Kiyoomi just the way he loves it, and it only takes a few more thrusts before his hips stutter and he moans through his release, spilling deep inside his panting husband.
Kiyoomi lets go of Atsumu's wrist and slumps down over his back as they come down, both of them breathing heavily. Kiyoomi trails light kisses along Atsumu's neck and revels in the way he shivers at the sensation. After about a minute, Kiyoomi stands back up and pulls out, both of them wincing slightly.
"Are you okay?" Kiyoomi asks, offering a hand to help pull Atsumu up from the counter.
Atsumu uses the hand to pull himself right into Kiyoomi's arms, sweatpants still around his ankles and a dopey smile on his face. "More than okay. Ya feelin' any better?"
"So much better," Kiyoomi hums, brushing Atsumu's blonde hair out of his face and placing a kiss on his forehead. "I need to shower though."
Atsumu's face splits into a wide, mischievous grin. "Is that an invitation for round two?"
Kiyoomi can't help but smile back, and in lieu of an answer he pulls his husband in for a passionate kiss.