#sakuatsu | 🔞nsfw minors dni | hairdresser!kiyoomi | Atsumu learns something new about himself Ever since he was a kid, Atsumu has been the type to ‘do now, think later’. So when he gets the idea to stand out from his twin, he finds himself neck deep in the bleaching process

before even considering if it’s a good or bad idea. “Good idea, bad execution,” Osamu comments when he sees the final result. “Ya definitely don’t look like me anymore.” “Saaaaamu,” Atsumu cries, “what am I gonna do?!” He pulls and ruffles his hair in front of the mirror.

“I can’t…I just can’t…” As always, it’s up to Osamu to help his brother out. “I heard there’s a guy who’s really good at fixing train wrecks like y- that.” “Make the call, Samu. Make. The. Call.” “Do it yourself.” 10 days later - because tears and whining failed to get him

an emergency appointment - Atsumu walks into the salon where Kiyoomi Sakusa works. It’s late afternoon so there’s only a few customers left, making it a more chilled atmosphere than that of a busy morning. Atsumu goes up to the counter and waits for the man with dark curls to

notice him. It’s a long 20 seconds wait until the man finally looks up from the screen. “Didja just flinch?!” Atsumu is loud enough for everyone to hear. “No.” Kiyoomi answers dryly, and gestures with his hand towards a chair for Atsumu to sit. Kiyoomi doesn’t say much while

working on Atsumu’s hair, and after explaining for 15 minutes what had transpired, Atsumu remains quite as well. The treatment continues in silence - the few customers having already left - which Kiyoomi finally breaks. “Come with me.” Atsumu listens and moves over to where he

presumes he’ll get his hair washed, tilting his head back as he makes himself comfortable in the chair. Just a little bit longer and he can get out of this awkward silence he’s endured for too long. “Let me know how it feels.” “Mhm.” The water feels cold for a second, but

gets warmer pretty quickly, and Kiyoomi’s hands gently massaging his scalp feels nice. Atsumu collapses even further on the chair as he feels Kiyoomi’s fingers moving around in a circular motion, from his hairline and all the way to the back of his head. Everything is going

great until Atsumu lets out a sound he didn’t mean to when Kiyoomi accidentally pulls at his hair a little too roughly. His heart starts racing as his mind is scrambling to figure out if Kiyoomi heard the small moan just now, or not. He stays still, Kiyoomi’s still washing his

hair like normal, and so he relaxes again. That’s when Kiyoomi gets his hair in a firm grip and tugs a bit, leaving Atsumu to let out another moan. /Shit./ Before Atsumu can get comfortable again, Kiyoomi does it one more time. And one more. And one more. At this point Atsumu

is starting to suspect he’s doing it on purpose. But he still can’t hold it in. It doesn’t hurt. There’s no pain, only a desperate feeling of being wanted, wanted right now. It’s turning him on so much, and he’s happy the cape is covering how /happy/ he is. Suddenly he hears,

“Time to blow.” “Bl-blow what?” Atsumu’s face has turned a warm shade of red as he walks behind Kiyoomi, slouching to not reveal his hard dick. “Your hair.” Kiyoomi guides him to the chair and brings out the blowdryer. “What else?” “N-nothing.” Kiyoomi works quickly, brushing

Atsumu’s hair while making sure the heat doesn’t stay in one spot too long. Atsumu flinches, but only slightly, when the brush tries to get through his tangled hair. He wouldn’t mind it tugging a bit more, but he can’t say that out loud. Instead he closes his eyes, tilt his head

back, and swallows his moans. There’s no reaction from Kiyoomi, so he makes himself comfortable and continues to enjoy the sensation. Eyes closed, and mind elsewhere, Atsumu doesn’t notice when the hair pulling goes from the brush to Kiyoomi’s hand. What he /does notice/

though, is a hand slipping in under the cape from the side, feeling its way around his hard dick on the outside of his sweatpants. Atsumu opens his eyes to take a peek and is met with the sight of Kiyoomi bent down over him, face looking straight ahead so Atsumu can’t see what

expression he’s making. Suddenly Kiyoomi turns his gaze downwards, locking eyes with Atsumu, but doesn’t say anything. He stays looking at him while his hand finds its way under Atsumu’s clothes and starts gently stroking. It doesn’t take much more for Atsumu’s breathing to

become irregular. He’s still trying to stay as quiet as possible, but it’s getting harder - in more ways than one. Kiyoomi pushes down further to grab the base of Atsumu’s dick, letting his chest get close enough to Atsumu’s ear so he can hear his heartbeat increasing as he

applies more pressure to the strokes - his other hand still pulling at Atsumu’s hair. Both hands work in perfect sync to give Atsumu max pleasure. “Let me hear you,” he says, and Atsumu finally lets himself go completely as Kiyoomi works his dick. Moans, exhales and inhales,

every kind of sound is escaping until it ends on an exhale. Kiyoomi says nothing, just kisses Atsumu, and walks to the washing station to clean his sticky hand. The kiss baffles Atsumu, but he doesn’t hate it, if anything it makes him want more. “Eh…so…that…” He’s trying to

find the words. “Are you happy with the service you received today?” Kiyoomi asks, to which Atsumu can only nod as confirmation. “Would you like to book your next appointment?” “Y-yes please.” “How about tomorrow night?”

Not even Atsumu needs a new appointment the next day when he is happy with the results. They can both hear the loud gulp before Atsumu answers, “if you make it a standing appointment.” /end

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