NSFW Kiyoomi doesn’t know how lucky he is, having a built-in alarm clock. If it were up to him, he would waste the whole day under a set of six covers (even in the summer!) but Atsumu wont have it. He was trained (traumatized) into becoming a morning person, so Omi can be too.

Except, Kiyoomi is an unmovable force in the mornings. He spends the night twisting himself around Atsumu in an elaborate trap, caging him in with long limbs draped over his chest and wedged in between his legs. He does it on purpose to try and discourage Atsumu from getting up.

But it’s been 4 years of domestic bliss — Atsumu is immune to all of Kiyoomi’s games. He’s not going to miss out on a morning run because Kiyoomi is on him like a koala. This morning, though — it’s different. Kiyoomi is warmer than usual, almost hot against his back. Hot and…

Hard, yep — definitely hard. Kiyoomi is pressing his erection right into Atsumu’s ass and Atsumu knows he’s being targeted. “Baby,” he tries, using his ‘morning’ voice that they’ve practiced countlessly. “We gotta get up. Told Rin and Motoya we’d meet ‘em after our run.”

“Skip the run,” says Kiyoomi, a spokesperson for staying in shape and being the healthiest version of yourself. “Then we’ll have plenty of time.” “I can’t, we got that half marathon comin’ up — Samu bet money I wouldn’t finish. I gotta finish in first now.” “Mmm. You don’t.”

“Do ya even know me?” Kiyoomi’s hands creep around Atsumu’s back, caressing his sides before lightly landing on his hip bones. And okay, Atsumu’s hard too but like — duh. “I know you. You want to stay in bed. You’re a fraud.”

“Tryin’ to have a good sleep schedule doesn’t make me a fraud!” he grumbles, but he does want to stay in bed, even more so now that Kiyoomi is grinding against his ass and rubbing circles into the skin right above his waistband.

“We don’t have time, Omi,” Atsumu whines again — they really don’t. Atsumu needs to go on this run, damn it. “How long?” God, Kiyoomi’s morning voice is unholy. “I gotta be out the door in, like, twenty.” “Plenty of time,” says Kiyoomi, and then he flips Atsumu onto his back.

“Ah fuck,” he half-chokes out as Kiyoomi puts all of his body wait on Atsumu. He lines their cocks up, still in the confines of their boxers, and dives in to capture Atsumu’s lips. No slow build-up, no sweet, sleepy kisses — Kiyoomi is wide awake.

He licks into Atsumu’s mouth — long-since having accepted him for any morning breath he might have — and Atsumu groans when he shifts his hips forward, dragging their cocks together. “Feels good, baby,” Atsumu admits. “But you’re gonna have to speed it up if ya wanna tuck me.”

“I do want to fuck you,” says Kiyoomi, then he rolls his eyes. “But we don’t have time, so this is all you get.” Kiyoomi ruts against Atsumu, putting an alarmingly pleasurable amount of weight on his groin. It feels better than it should, to still have so much clothes on.

“You wanna hump me like we’re teenagers?” Atsumu laughs. “Fuck, it was good then — it’ll be good now.” Kiyoomi snorts out a laugh and then crashes down to shut Atsumu up with a kiss that almost knocks him right out.

It’s desperate, the way their bodies are moving, the sloppy press of their lips and slide of their tongues. Atsumu can’t keep quiet, no matter what time of day it is, so he’s crying out different variations of Kiyoomi’s name and bucking his hips up against him.

Kiyoomi busies himself with kissing at Atsumu’s neck, his jawline, twisting his fingers into his hair, leaving his mark on him like it’s jewelry to wear for the day. Atsumu’s barreling towards finishing — from /dry humping/.

Oh well — Kiyoomi isn’t faring any better. He’s rutting against Atsumu like he’s in pain, like he can’t have this fast enough — like he waited all night for Atsumu to wake up. Maybe Kiyoomi is more of a morning person than he thinks.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, baby — but we’re runnin’ out of time. You wanna finish for me?” He reaches down in between them, stilling Kiyoomi’s movements, and cups his cock through his underwear. Kiyoomi lets his hand collapse into Atsumu’s neck, lets him work him.

It doesn’t take long, and then Kiyoomi’s making a whole mess out of himself, and Atsumu is so mesmerized by it that he comes a second later, humping against Kiyoomi’s thigh until he’s blinded with pleasure. Atsumu takes a deep breath in the afterglow. “Alright, get dressed.”

Kiyoomi blinks at him. “No cuddling? That leads to relationship failure. I need to feel loved.” “Nothin’ says love more like carin’ about your partner’s health — we’re already runnin’ late. I’m gonna throw your sneakers on the bed.”

The threat is enough to get Kiyoomi moving, and he even begrudgingly gives Atsumu a kiss on the way to the bathroom. They only have 5 minutes to get ready, but Atsumu isn’t too bothered. He’d rush any time for a morning like this.

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