danny βœπŸ»πŸ”ž tasty morsel arc

danny βœπŸ»πŸ”ž tasty morsel arc

09-10-2022

21:40

skts // nsfw // college au // writing warm-up β€” It was a bad idea. Kiyoomi /knew/ it was a bad idea. Did that stop him, however? No, no it did not. The house is too crowded for his liking. His skin feels tingly, his head a mess from how loud it is. He hasn't had a single drop

of alcohol, yet it feels like his mind is fuzzy. He doesn't know why he agreed to come (lie number one of a long list of lies he's telling himself tonight), but he's here nonetheless. Motoya, who had pestered him to come to the party, is nowhere to be found. Probably off with his

boyfriends, the absolute heathen. Kiyoomi hates him. (Lie number two.) He's got a virgin mojito in hand (and how ironic that is, isn't it?) and a frown on his lips, which are promptly hidden under his mask. He wants to leave, but Motoya drove them here, so he has to somehow wait

for him to be done with his lovers before they can go home. Kiyoomi loathes to think of what he's up to right now. (Not a lie, this time.) He looks down at the hand holding his glass, sighing as his ring glistens in the ever-changing lights that pulse around him.

"Now this is a sight I didn't expect ta see," a voice calls from his left, and Kiyoomi's frown deepens. Miya Atsumu, in the flesh, leans into the wall next to Kiyoomi, a devastating smirk on his lips. Kiyoomi hates it; hates him. (Lies three and four.) "Shut it, Miya," he says.

Atsumu laughs. "Got dragged here an' abandoned by 'Toya-kun, right?" He guesses, his laughter becoming a little softer as Kiyoomi's brows furrow. "How'd you know?" Kiyoomi asks, squinting at the person that's been haunting his nightmares (read: dreams) since they ended up sat

side by side at one of their lectures, back when the school year began. "I saw 'im go off with Sunarin an' Tatsuki-san earlier. Thought ya might be feelin' a bit lonely, so I came to keep ya company!" Kiyoomi blinks several times, Atsumu's smile almost blinding, and thanks the

heavens for the mask that covers his face up to the eyes – he'd never be able to escape Atsumu's teasing if he could see the blush hiding under it, after all. "I don't need your company," Kiyoomi grumbles, ever-so-stubborn. (Those spoken words are lie number five.)

"Sure ya do, Omi-Omi! Ya look like you're about to blow a fuse from havin' so many people around, an' my room is nice and quiet, but only I have the key," Atsumu replies, unaffected by Kiyoomi's denial. "C'mon, don't ya wanna go somewhere cleaner? I keep my room tidy, I promise!"

Kiyoomi ponders the offer for a second. He's already made a bad decision tonight by coming to this forsaken party; what's one more? ... Apparently, that second bad decision was one too many. You see, Kiyoomi has this little problem – he finds Atsumu attractive. Despite his

loudmouth and bad boy attitude, he's easy on the eyes. And Kiyoomi is most certainly not blind. What he is, however, is promised to a vow of chastity. Something his parents, of the esteemed Sakusa bloodline that has set the standard for the elite for decades, made him go through

before he left home to go study in university. He never really gave it much thought before. He wasn't really all that interested in sex through high school, the way his other classmates seemed to be, but Atsumu really does love to test his limits. With his stupid sensual grin and

half-hooded eyes, voice poised low as he whispers to Kiyoomi during class like he's got nothing better to do, and his strong thighs that flex for the world to see in his dumb little shortsβ€” yeah, he awoke something in Kiyoomi alright. And now they're alone. Together. In Atsumu's

room. A terrible decision all around. "Ya can sit on the bed, I swear it's clean, I just changed the sheets earlier," Atsumu says as he closes the door behind them, headed for his desk chair himself. "I know big crowds like that aren't really yer thing," he continues. And that

is another big problem. Despite his know-it-all, narcissistic attitude, he's actually really fucking considerate. One time, Kiyoomi had to miss a lecture due to a sudden cold, and not only did Atsumu copy his own notes during class and gave them to Motoya to bring to Kiyoomi, but

he sent back a bag with a note that deemed it a "care package". There was umeboshi in there, and some cold medicine (that Kiyoomi already had, of course, but it's the thought that counts) and a huge bottle of water so he would stay hydrated. Kiyoomi hasn't been able to think

about it without blushing profusely, so he has yet to thank Atsumu for it, or ask why in the world he sent. Not that it matters, really; Atsumu seems content with acting as if it never happened. "Thanks," Kiyoomi mumbles now, carefully sitting at the end of Atsumu's double bed,

shoulders relaxing at last, now that he's no longer in a room full of sweaty, drunk people. "If you want to go back to the party, you can; I won't touch anything." "Nah, I'd rather sit here with ya," Atsumu replies easily, clicking his desk lamp on to illuminate the room a

a little more. Moonlight trickles heavily from the open curtains, the full moon shining bright outside, but the warmth of the yellow light feels a little cosier. Kiyoomi's tension bleeds out of him until a sigh passes his lips. When he breathes in again, he feels the faint

scent of Atsumu's cologne wafting through the short distance between them. "Smells nice," he thinks, eyes closed. "Wha'?" Atsumu asks. Kiyoomi's eyes shoot open and his face flushes all over. He said that out loud?!

"Iβ€”" "Omi-kun," Atsumu calls, and Kiyoomi's always hated the nickname (lie number six) but even more so now as it rolls past Atsumu's lips so sinfully (lie number seven). "Ya think I smell nice?" "Iβ€” No, shut up," Kiyoomi struggles to reply, words stumbling over each other.

His ears feel warm, and as Atsumu stands from his chair and walks over to him, Kiyoomi wishes he'd turned off the desk lamp so he wouldn't see it. He stops walking right in front of Kiyoomi, and Kiyoomi doesn't even flinch when tanned fingers meet his clothed chin, tilting it

up until Kiyoomi's face is towards Atsumu's eyes. Kiyoomi refuses to meet them, staring off to the side, but he knows Atsumu sees right through his embarrassment. "Say, Omi-kun," Atsumu whispers, warmth spreading as Kiyoomi feels him lower himself to sit on Kiyoomi's lap, thighs

flexing as they touch his sides. Kiyoomi doesn't flinch; he can't even breathe, his eyes wide, pupils blown, as he finally meets Atsumu's gaze. "D'ya wanna see if ya like the way I taste, too?" Bad. Bad bad bad. Bad decision, bad idea, badβ€” Kiyoomi lifts a hand to his own face,

lowers his mask, and rushes forward to kiss Atsumu into silence. He's kissed people before – a girl, once, behind the school gym. It wasn't really that great, if Kiyoomi's honest; maybe because it was a girl, maybe because Kiyoomi was too aware of the germs being spread between

them. Kissing Atsumu feels nothing like it. As expected, Atsumu's kiss is warm. His lips are soft and full, his hands scalding as they grab his face by the cheeks, holding Kiyoomi steady. Kiyoomi's running mostly on instinct as he kisses back, but Atsumu doesn't seem to mind.

He moves slow, giving Kiyoomi ample time to get used to it, before his tongue licks at Kiyoomi's bottom lip and, as he gasps, sneaks into his mouth. Kiyoomi isn't proud of the whine he lets out at the sensation; at the way he's growing so painfully hard so fast just from a little

kiss, but, again, it doesn't seem to matter. Atsumu devours him, swallows the tiny sounds he makes, and grinds down into his lap as a reward. Every tiny whimper earns some friction, and Kiyoomi can't shut up. When Atsumu pulls back, Kiyoomi breathes as if he's been drowning,

gasping for air, chest heaving. Atsumu doesn't stop kissing him, but instead moves to trace a path down Kiyoomi's jaw and neck, teeth gracing the sensitive skin and making Kiyoomi bite his lips to hold back yet another moan. "Don't hold back, darlin'," Atsumu whispers, tongue

flicking at his earlobe before he bites it. "Wanna hear ya," he urges, slowly pushing Kiyoomi back until he's lying on the bed, Atsumu still on top of him. Kiyoomi's hands have been frozen at his sides for all this time, but now they move to Atsumu's sides, clenching around the

fabric of his shirt tightly. He should put a stop this. His ring shines in the light and Kiyoomi knows he should push Atsumu away, but he doesn't want to. It's not like his parents will find out anyway, right? Making yet one more bad (?) decision, Kiyoomi closes his eyes and

allows Atsumu unbutton his shirt. He gives into the warmth, lets himself be surrounded by it as Atsumu undresses them both, taking his time to map out Kiyoomi's body with his lips and tongue. Every new press of a kiss against his skin feels heavenly; every flick of his wet tongue

makes Kiyoomi shatter. He's at Atsumu's mercy as they lay there, naked, cocks shining with pre-cum as Atsumu takes them both in hand. "Fuck, ya look so pretty right now," Atsumu groans, lips hovering above Kiyoomi's as his eyes stare at Kiyoomi's, ablaze. "Look at me, Omi-kun.

Watch what I'm doin'. Tell me it feels nice," he demands, sliding his large hand up and down around both their cocks, using the pre-cum and some lube he grabbed while undressing Kiyoomi as the aid he needs for the slide to be smooth. "Feels good," Kiyoomi admits, cheeks flushed

and mouth parted. His hands are tracing up Atsumu's corded back, feeling the dips and rivets of muscle, pressing in when something Atsumu does feels particularly nice. "Feels so good," he moans, eyes flickering down to watch Atsumu's hand move faster. Kiyoomi's hips buck into the

touch, desperate. "Never knew it would feel this good," he admits, panting as Atsumu squeezes around them, lips descending upon Kiyoomi's once more for a brief second. "Yeah? No one fucked ya this good before?" Atsumu teases. Really, Kiyoomi shouldn't fall into the trap, butβ€”

"No one's ever fucked me before," he breathes out anyway, back arching as he feels something hot and heavy settle on his chest, making its way down his body. "You're the first," he whines, toes and fingers curling as he tries to fend off the heat, unsure if he's supposed to let

it consume him or stave it off. "Fuck," Atsumu replies, voice full of wonder and something darker, almost possessive. "Fuck, you're all mine then, yeah?" He groans, nipping at Kiyoomi's jaw. "Gonna come just for me, then, pretty darlin'?"

The heat flares up and swallows Kiyoomi whole. He gasps, back arching until his chest is glued to Atsumu's, head thrown back as he shoots his load between them. Atsumu doesn't stop moving, pumping their cocks as Kiyoomi's orgasm takes over him, and even when he stops. Kiyoomi

wants to cry, to beg, to pray, to thank whatever deity granted him this night with Atsumu, and as he feels Atsumu cum between them too, he wants to get on his knees and profess his loyalty to him. He shakes as Atsumu groans out his name at release, and then shivers as Atsumu

stops jerking them off and pulls his hand away. They're sticky with sweat and cum, both panting and contaminating the air shared between them, but Kiyoomi doesn't even mind. He closes his eyes, lets Atsumu collapse on top of him; the weight feels nice and grounding. He doesn't

complain as Atsumu wipes his hand on his comforter; doesn't mind when Atsumu holds Kiyoomi's hand right after. It feels nice. β€” Kiyoomi's late. He's going to be late because he can't find this one fucking thingβ€” This is all Motoya's fault. It's the day after the party.

Kiyoomi ended up having to call a cab home. After a while of just lying there in their own fluids, Atsumu had dragged Kiyoomi to the shower and they'd wasted some more time watching a few episodes of an anime they're both following until it was late enough that Kiyoomi knew he

had to leave. Atsumu walked him out and kissed his cheek goodbye when his cab arrived, and that was that. They didn't talk about what happened, or what it meant. Kiyoomi really doesn't care. (Lie number eight.) After spending another five minutes looking for his missing

object, Kiyoomi gives up. He groans in exasperation, grabs his bag from where it's hung behind his door, and runs all the way to his lecture hall. He manages to make it just in the nick of time before the professor arrives, which means he has no choice on where he wants to sit.

Thankfully, there's a spot open. Right next to Atsumu. Kiyoomi tries to act normal as he walks towards the seat, sitting down in silence, as he always does. He grabs his laptop from his bag and opens it, uses his fingerprint to unlock it, and watches his professor walk into the

large room. Atsumu doesn't say a word, next to him. He makes it halfway through the lecture before Atsumu pokes his arm. "What?" Kiyoomi hisses, in true Kiyoomi fashion. It doesn't faze Atsumu in the slightest. "Ya okay? Ya were almost late," Atsumu comments. Kiyoomi turns to

glare at him. "Yes, I'm fine, just lost myβ€”" Kiyoomi's words die on his lips. Right there, hanging on a chain around Atsumu's neck, is his missing object. His chastity ring. //end

probably should've tagged this as first time as well, but oops...... for @catsoo12 who sent me a tiktok with this prompt and told me to make it sakuatsu...... i've been in a writing slump, this was supposed to be a warm uP THREAD HOW DID IT BECOME THIS LONGβ€” anyways time to put

this energy into my actual deadlines, toodles!!!!!!


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