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Scream in Silence

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Tsukishima carefully adjusts his kneepads one last time and then gives his body a thorough glance in the mirror. It’s quite obvious what Kuroo thinks about his volleyball uniform, if the blowjob he practically begged Tsukishima to give him in a supply closet after the last game is anything to go by. (Not that Tsukishima had a problem with it. He had eagerly agreed and kneeling on cold tiles was a lot more comfortable if wearing kneepads). So he assumes this is probably a good idea. And maybe, or maybe not, he has adjusted his uniform a bit to fit what he has planned.

After all, he probably doesn’t need his undershirt and the old shorts from his first season are a bit tight with all the muscle he built during these last few years. He looks good, he decides, and Kuroo will surely appreciate this view.. Now Tsukishima just has to wait until Kuroo gets home from his meeting. Which should not be too far off, if nothing changes in the schedule Kuroo told him that morning during breakfast, before hurrying off to work.
Tsukishima stretches out languidly on the bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He tries to keep his fantasies at bay, but it’s difficult to ignore the slow, simmering heat building up in his body in anticipation of Kuroo’s reaction when he finally comes home. After a while of mindlessly scrolling through his feed he switches from his normal instagram account to his private one, the one where he follows a heap of artists drawing all different kinds of erotica.
(Who can judge him? He’s a kinky fucker. And Kuroo loves him for it. Yeah, seeing well-muscled, naked bodies tangled up in each other turns him on. And drawings and fiction have not only a certain artistic appeal, but also no limitations of reality. So he prefers drawn or written porn to the filmed kind.)

He’s very close to just sticking a hand down his tiny volleyball shorts and jerking himself off, when he can hear the turn of the key and the soft squeaking of their apartment door.
“Finally”, Tsukishima murmurs to himself and places his phone on the bedside table. He untangles his legs from the blanket and makes sure he’s stretched out, his legs draped across the mattress. The shorts just barely cover his ass and he lets out a happy humming sound.

“I’m home”, Kuroo calls, and Tsukishima can hear the rustling of a coat getting placed on the hanger and shoes getting toed off.

“I’m in the bedroom”, Tsukishima answers, trying his hardest to not sound too eager. It ends up sounding more tortured than anything else. It takes just a moment, then Kuroo steps inside.

“Everything okay, Tsukki, are you sick or…?” He cuts off mid-sentence, when he sees Tsukishima stretched out on the bed, in his full Sendai Frogs Uniform (though with shorts he definitely wouldn’t step on a court anymore), complete with kneepads and his sports glasses. And a very obvious bulge in his shorts, which don’t do much to conceal it.


The surprised sound that comes from Kuroo’s mouth cranks the heat between them immediately up to eleven and Tsukishima pushes himself up into an upright position, swinging his legs from the bed so he’s sitting right in front of his flustered boyfriend, who is still standing in the middle of the room in his full work suit. Kuroo hasn’t even slipped off his blazer, not even taken off his employee badge hanging around his neck.
Tsukishima looks up at him, deliberate, and blinks up, a seductive glance through thick lashes.

“I thought, you might like this”, he smirks and lets his eyes take in the full image of his very attractive boyfriend in a very well fitted three-piece suit.

“Oh, you’re very much right.” Kuroo’s voice is dropping to the low growl Tsukishima is very much used to by now, he knows how to interpret the small tells in Kuroo’s face and his voice.


Their sex life is everything Tsukishima thought it would be, and then some. There is nothing they can’t talk about, not much they would not try. There is a whole drawer full of sex toys and other accessories in the drawer next to their bed. They have their well-oiled routines by now, know how to make each other feel good. But a curious and enthusiastic streak in both of them leads to a willingness to always try out something new. They’ve been together for so many years now, have seen everything about each other. They know each other by heart and trust each other without doubt. And Tsukishima knows that particular tone, the roughness barely contained in his words when he sounds like that, he wants to take the lead, wants to make Tsukishima shudder and scream and cry and just the thought makes a hot shiver run down his back.

Sitting on the edge of their bed, Tsukishima spreads his legs a little, not enough to really show off how hard he already is, just from waiting for him, bursting with anticipation. He makes just enough room for Kuroo to stand between them, just enough to tease at something more.

“You look so good like this”, Kuroo growls. “All strong, and powerful, and fuckable. And I want everyone to know you’re mine.” With slow, deliberate strides, Kuroo crosses the distance between them, shrugging off his blazer, which falls to the floor in disregard. It will be a pest to iron it, but none of them gives it any thought. Kuroo carefully takes off his badge and places it on the bedside table. Then he bends down, ready to capture Tsukishima’s lips in a forceful kiss.
Kuroo fists a hand in Tsukishima’s hair, as he steps close, taking up the space between his legs and Tsukishima melts under the calm assertion of dominance as his head is yanked back and Kuroo devours him.

A soft gasp escapes Tsukishima, when Kuroo pulls back after what feels like an eternity, just a tiny, barely audible, needy sound, but Kuroo notices it. Hot breath hits Tsukishima’s face and Kuroo’s eyes are dark with lust, his lips drawn into a hungry smirk, all red and wet from their frantic kiss. Tsukishima is sure he looks just as wrecked already, if not more. And they haven’t even started.

“You’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you? Got yourself all hot and bothered, and worked up for me?”
Tsukishima can’t help himself, he just nods and when Kuroo grinds his knee against his crotch, slow and deliberate, a high-pitched moan spills from his lips.

That’s the one fact about him Tsukishima keeps a well guarded secret, that he will never let anyone besides Kuroo know: He’s loud. Sex with Kuroo makes him scream, wail, moan, cry, whatever other word one could possibly think of. But being quiet is almost impossible for him. Kuroo loves it, loves the sounds he can tear from Tsukishima with miniscule touches and careful teasing until he breaks. Loves it when Tsukishima’s voice breaks with overstimulation and desperation. It’s one of the reasons Kuroo gets such a kick out of sex in places where they aren’t supposed to fuck, hotel rooms with Tsukishima’s teammates just a thin wall away, supply closets in public stadiums, Bokuto’s and Akaashi’s guest room whenever they get around to visiting them in Osaka. Tsukishima loves it, when Kuroo takes him apart carefully, piecing him back together, a gag in his mouth, or just a hand clamped above his lips so he keeps quiet. But at home is the best, still, because he has no need to hold back. (Even though sometimes Tsukishima thinks, for their neighbors’ sake, he should at least try to hold back. In the end though, these plans always fail, and so far nobody has complained.)

“Have you been nice and thorough in getting yourself ready, baby?” Kuroo whispers, his breath ghosting over Tsukishima’s ear and for a moment, Tsukishima wants to slap himself. He didn’t even think about it, about how considerate it would have been to be already prepared and ready for Kuroo. And how much easier it would have made the wait. But now it’s too late and he shakes his head, blinking apologetically. Next time, he’ll do better for Kuroo.

“I didn’t think about it”, he admits, and sticks his lower lip out in a pout. Kuroo’s eyes darken at that face and he leans in, his sharp canines nipping on Tsukishima’s ear, just on the right side of painful.

“Say, baby. what should I do now? You wait for me in our bed, dressed like that. Then get me all worked up like this and now you tell me you aren’t ready for me? Make me do all the work for you?”

It’s an act, they both know that. Kuroo loves to make Tsukishima crumble to pieces and beg and moan with just his fingers up his ass. And Tsukishima loves only one thing more than Kuroo’s fingers inside him. But the words don’t fail their goal and Tsukishima grinds against the leg pressing against his barely clothed erection, seeking some form of relief. Immediately, Kuroo pulls back his leg, until it’s just out of reach.

“I think you need a lesson”, he growls and pushes Tsukishima down, makes him fall on the mattress, stretched out on his bed. Tsukishima’s legs still hang off the side and Kuroo lets a hand ghost up one of his thighs, from his knees to just where his shorts end. Kuroo leans in, towering above him and his hand sneaks up further, above the thin fabric, and lightly brushes over Tsukishima’s arousal.

“You didn’t even bother with underwear, did you?” Kuroo’s gaze rakes up and down the stretched out body beneath him, a clearly visible erection leaving wet stains against the flimsy shorts, nipples perked up underneath the equally thin jersey.
Tsukishima just shakes his head.

“I think it’d just get in the way”, he rasps out, his voice cracking when Kuroo gives his cock a few quick strokes through the fabric.

“Good boy”, Kuroo groans. Then, he sits down next to him and, with practised ease, drapes his boyfriend over his lap. The casual display of strength, of strong wires of muscle hidden under that perfectly tailored suit, makes Tsukishima’s cock harden even more. He loves it, loves the way Kuroo can manhandle him like that, even though he’s a good few centimeters shorter and stopped playing volleyball years ago.

“But you were still very neglectful of certain things”, Kuroo reprimands him. Tsukishima whimpers, his cock rubbing against Kuroo’s thigh. The position is submissive and humiliating and he loves every second of it.

Kuroo’s warm, broad hands rub across his back, his thighs, his ass. Fingers slip just underneath the seam of his shorts, teasing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, slipping up and almost touching him in all the right places. Tsukishima moans and wiggles against Kuroo’s grip, desperate for some real touches, anything but these teasing hands, but immediately, Kuroo pulls back. One hand finds its way back into his hair, twisting itself hard in the soft blonde curls in his neck and Kuroo pushes him down. Tsukishima is completely powerless, can’t move like that and willingly he surrenders to Kuroo’s will. The other hand squeezes his ass a few times, before it comes down in a slap. Tsukishima gasps, the shock reverberating through his body and the warm sting that it leaves behind makes his dick twitch against Kuroo’s thigh.

“You like that, huh? Don’t be too eager… this is a punishment, baby.” Kuroo’s voice drips with saccharine sweetness and Tsukishima wiggles against the hand softly brushing against his ass.

“Yes.” Tsukishima’s voice is soft and shaky.

“Yes what?” Another slap, the thin fabric does nothing to soften the blow and Tsukishima sobs.

“Yes, Daddy”, he chokes out and he doesn’t have to look up to know how smug Kuroo looks right now.


Realizing how much that word turned them both on was certainly an experience. They’d been on vacation together, after a stressful last year of college for Tsukishima and a busy volleyball season with a lot of work for Kuroo, and not enough time to see each other. The last winter they spent long distance, before Kuroo got his promotion – before he was in Sendai full time, before they moved in together– so they’d decided to take a vacation. They’d spent an awful amount of money on their hotel in Okinawa, private, secluded, with a large porch overlooking the ocean and no spectators anywhere… And a lot of time to reconnect, learn each other’s bodies again.

Maybe Tsukishima spent most of that vacation not being able to walk. Maybe they couldn’t get enough of each other. And one night, during a particularly rough fucking, with Tsukishima bent over the railing of their porch, soft waves lapping against the stilts below them, Kuroo’s cock buried deep in his ass, the adrenaline from knowing any passerby would immediately know how much pro volleyballer and “perfect son-in-law” - (Tsukishima sometimes still wonders how he got that particular image. But being on a team with men like Kyoutani and Koganegawa may have contributed a fair share to the public’s perception of him as a well-educated, eloquent and cultured man. Oh if they knew…) - likes to get his ass fucked hard, rushing through his body, it had slipped from his lips.

“You like that, baby?” Kuroo asked, his hand wrapped around Tsukishima’s throat, ready to choke the living daylights out of him.

“Yes”, his voice was raspy, broken from overstimulation. “Yes… please…”

“Please what?” Kuroo’s breath ghosting over his ear, the hand around his neck tightened as Kuroo circled his hips, rubbing maddening circles against his prostate.

“Please, Daddy.” The way Kuroo’s hand squeezed off his air supply made him all light-headed and woozy, made his brain shut off, words just spilling out and a deep growl tore free from Kuroo’s throat.

“Good boy.”

And then he fucked Tsukishima against that railing until he was crying and shuddering and collapsing against his boyfriend’s body.
The talk after the afterglow subsided, when they were curled up in their bed, Tsukishima’s face buried in Kuroo’s neck, had been awkward. But in the end, who could judge them?
Tsukishima likes to call Kuroo Daddy sometimes, and Kuroo loves when Tsukishima calls him that, he has his slew of more or less degrading pet names he cycles through based on mood and occasion and what gets Tsukishima the most riled up any given day, and they both are into it and that’s all that matters.


Tsukishima’s ass is red and tingly from the harsh blows Kuroo delivers in swift succession, and he can feel the edges of his mind fizzle out, his thoughts drifting away.

“You’re such a slut, Tsukki~” Kuroo lilts, hooking one hand in the waistband of his shorts and pulling them down. They pool around Tsukishima’s thighs, just barely exposing his ass and the tops of his thighs.

“Such a slut, just for me…”

Tsukishima gasps for air, feels tears clumping in his lashes, as Kuroo squeezes the reddened skin. He pushes back against the hand, desperately seeking more. More of everything, anything, more stimulation, more pain, more of Kuroo’s voice. He can clearly feel how hard Kuroo is in his pants, wants his cock inside him so much.

Another slap, against bare skin this time and Tsukishima whimpers.

“Please… fuck me”, Tsukishima groans, his hips mindlessly rutting against Kuroo’s thigh, chasing the relief the friction gives him.

“Ask me properly!” Kuroo’s voice is still perfectly level, not a hint of how much this affects him audible. He let’s Tsukishima move, lets him rub against him, probably enjoying the show his boyfriend is giving him right now deeply.

“Please fuck me, Daddy!”

Kuroo delivers one last blow to his firm, round ass, putting all his strength into it and Tsukishima whines, the pain and the pleasure mixing into an intoxicating cocktail in his head.

“Well, my baby forgot to be properly prepared for Daddy, so… be a good boy and get on your knees.”

With jerky movements, his shorts still bunched up around his thighs, Tsukishima scrambles off his boyfriend’s lap. He claws his glasses off, just barely thinking clear enough to remember them, letting them fall on the mattress. Then he buries his face in the pillows, his thighs as far apart as the shorts allow them to go.

Kuroo hums appreciatively as he kneels between Tsukishima’s legs, runs one of his hands up and down his back in a soft, comforting gesture. When Tsukishima looks at him over his shoulder, he can see the blurry shadow of Kuroo leaning over, reaching for the lube on the nightstand.
He can hear the sound of the cap popping open and shivers, when cold, wet fingers go straight for his ass, running up and down the crack.

“C..cold”, Tsukishima protests and Kuroo scoffs.

“If you wanted careful, you should have done that yourself, baby. I’m getting impatient.”

Tsukishima tenses up, when two wet fingers press against his hole.

“Shhhhh, baby… I know you can take it.”

Kuroo’s other hand grips his hip, holding him steady, keeping him grounded and Tsukishima can feel his body relaxing immediately. Kuroo just knows how to push all of his buttons. Knows the perfect mix of rough dominance and gentle, caring gestures to make Tsukishima fall apart beneath him.

“Be good for me and take a deep breath, baby”, Kuroo instructs and Tsukishima obeys without a second thought.

When he closes his eyes and breathes, he can feel one finger pushing in smoothly and, letting his instincts take over, Tsukishima pushes against the intrusion, feeling the long, slender finger slide in to the knuckle. With practised ease, Kuroo finds his prostate, rubbing against it in slow, drawn-out grinds and Tsukishima let’s out a high-pitched whine.

“More, please, Daddy… more… I can…”

Kuroo pulls his hand back, just to immediately slide in again, this time with two fingers.

“Like this, baby?”

It takes just moments, until Tsukishima is a whining, moaning mess, unraveling under Kuroo’s fingers. The hand holding him up at the hips disappears and Tsukishima needs all his core strength to hold himself up on his knees. Kuroo sneaks his fingers under his jersey, sliding up his sides, leaving hot, tingling traces.

“You’re so easy”, he rasps in Tsukishima’s ear, sneaking the hand underneath his chest, the jersey riding up to his armpits, bunching up, cold air hitting his bare skin. Kuroo pinches and plucks at his nipple, his other hand picking up speed, three fingers buried in his ass and fucking him open. “You just love this. Love it when I fuck you real good.”
Tsukishima nods weakly, a broken sob all he can manage with his voice and then, Kuroo is gone.

“No, don’t stop”, Tsukishima begs, his hips twitching, searching for more. His hand moves automatically, reaching for his neglected cock neither of them has really touched tonight, but Kuroo stops him with a firm grip around his wrist.

“Stop. Don’t get cocky or I’m going to have to tie you up”, he warns and for a moment, Tsukishima thinks about disobeying just to get Kuroo to pull out the rope. He loves the way the rope feels on his skin, the way he can’t move at all. But tonight, he is a good boy, he doesn’t disobey and his hand stills, finds the pillow and clutches it tightly, to keep himself from acting out and disobeying an order from his Daddy.

“Such an obedient little slut”, Kuroo praises and Tsukishima can hear the familiar sound of a belt buckle being opened, a zipper pulled down.

“Do you want my cock, baby?” Kuroo’s voice sends shivers down his spine and when he hears the lube bottle, the sounds of Kuroo jerking his cock with slow movements, his hips tilt up, he spreads his legs a tiny bit wider, the fabric of his shorts cutting into his thighs. Kuroo has the audacity to laugh at the display of raw need. His fingers plunge back in, rip a broken sob from Tsukishima’s mouth. He loves Kuroo’s fingers, loves the way he unravels him with carefully aimed prods and pulls, but right now, he wants something else, wants more.

“Please, Daddy”, he whines, pushing back against the fingers deliberately avoiding his prostate, seeking more friction, more anything. “Fuck me! Oh god… don’t…” Incoherent half-sentences fall from his lips and he feels his legs trembling from the strain. And then, he feels Kuroo’s fingers disappear, a large hand grips his hips and steadies him.

“Be a good boy and keep still”, Kuroo orders and then he pushes in, unbelievably slow. Tsukishima wants to push back against him, wants to fuck himself on the cock buried in his ass. His whole body shudders when Kuroo sinks in to the hilt and stills, not moving at all.

“Move!” Tsukishima whines, but all it does is earn him another slap on his ass, red and hot and burning from the thorough spanking his boyfriend gave him.

“Don’t order me around”, Kuroo grits out, grinding deep into him and Tsukishima wails.

“Please… Daddy, please… I need you, please fuck me, Daddy!” Tsukishima is lost in the feeling of Kuroo all over him, as those large hands grip his hips tightly, hold him up, hold him still as he pulls out almost all the way and then slams back in. Helpless moans and whimpers spill over Tsukishima’s lips and tears well up in his eyes. It’s hard, relentless, the way Kuroo fucks into him, uses him and Tsukishima loves it so much, feels the arousal build up deep in his core.
He’s Kuroo’s favourite toy, his baby and he revels in the feeling of getting brutally taken apart by him.

Whenever Kuroo deems him too active, too bossy, he can feel Kuroo’s hand coming down sharp on his ass, his thighs and all that holds him up are Kuroo’s hand on his hip and the cock buried deep inside him, fucking him without mercy.
Tsukishima can feel himself slowly slipping away, his mind fizzles out and he’s sure he’s coming without any stimulation to his cock any moment, when a shrill ringing tears through the heavy air around them.

Kuroo stills immediately and Tsukishima curses. That’s Kuroo’s work phone… who the fuck is calling him at this hour? Who the fuck has the audacity to call him right now?
He looks over his shoulder, sees the blurry shape of Kuroo pulling out his phone and glancing on the screen.

“You better hang up…” Tsukishima forces out “Right now!” Kuroo’s dick is still buried deep in his ass, but he doesn’t move at all.

Kuroo leans down, over Tsukishima, whispering in his ear.

“Sorry baby… that’s an important call, Daddy has to take it. Be a good boy and keep quiet, won’t you.” A dangerous smirk graces his face and Tsukishima shudders.

They haven’t negotiated that exact situation, they haven’t talked about something like that, even though they have talked about public sex at some points, and for a moment, Kuroo drops his act, a hand carefully stroking Tsukishima’s hip.

“You know your safewords”, Kuroo whispers in Tsukishima’s ear and he nods, tears streaking his face.

“And if you slap my thigh, I’ll stop immediately”, Kuroo reassures him and then he’s gone, back up again and all Tsukishima feels is his cock inside him, his clothed thighs pressed against Tsukishima’s naked ones, a hand on his hip, keeping him still, the seams of his shirt brushing against Tsukishima’s bruised skin.

“Ah, Nakamura-san” Kuroo says, in a detached voice, like he’s sitting on his porch with a glass of wine, not utterly destroying his boyfriend in the bedroom.

Tsukishima prays for Kuroo to not torture him too much. Get the phone call over as soon as possible and then go back to mercilessly fucking him into the mattress. But Kuroo is nothing but a teasing bastard inside and outside of bed. So of course he does whatever he can to be a ruthless asshole and with a slow swivel of his hips, he grinds deeper into Tsukishima’s body, making him shudder and tremble all over. It’s not the hard fucking Tsukishima desperately wants, but the knowledge Kuroo is on the phone with his coworker makes Tsukishima way more aroused than it should. He bites his tongue to keep sounds from slipping out, but a gasp slips past his lips nonetheless. He’s rewarded with another, harder slam, right against his prostate and a tiny whimper escapes his lips.

“One moment, Nakamura-san”, Kuroo says, still completely relaxed, nothing in his voice betraying his debauched activities right now. Then, he leans down, his breath ghosting over Tsukishima’s neck.

“I said ‘be quiet’. Should I get the gag for you or can you keep it down?” he asks, his voice tinged with authority and it makes Tsukishima shudder.

“Yesyesyes, I’ll be good”, he promises in a hushed whisper, his voice trembling.

Kuroo makes an appreciative hum, then he’s back on the phone.

“Sorry, Nakamura-san, just my dog acting up. Yeah, it’s fine… so… tell me about this project.”

Oh god… Kuroo is enjoying this, Tsukishima realizes. He’s enjoying this, he has fun torturing Kei like that.

What starts as slow, shallow movements picks up in intensity, turns into deep thrusts, every single one hitting him just right and Tsukishima buries his face into the pillow.
To be quiet, not let out a sound is hard, way harder than he ever thought, but somehow he manages to not scream, not cry out. He bites the pillow underneath him, tears running down his cheeks when another quick, well-aimed thrust sends him almost over the edge.

Immediately, Kuroo stops, still boredly talking on the phone like he’s deliberately trying to draw this out longer.

It takes Tsukishima every sliver of control he can muster to not scream in frustration, to not rock back against Kuroo’s cock, fuck himself silly on it, but the urgent need to be a good boy, to be pliant and obedient and what Kuroo wants him to be beats out the need to get fucked hard.

And he is rewarded for his patience, as Kuroo picks up his pace again, slow and powerful and it’s just a few moments until Tsukishima is dangling from the edge again, only held back from orgasm by Kuroo stopping once again. A sob escapes his lips and Tsukishima can feel the wet pillow beneath his face, tears and spit mixing into a cool wetness against his face.

Kuroo is still talking, Tsukishima has no idea and couldn’t care less about what his boyfriend is talking, just hearing him casually chat with his coworker is infuriating.
Infuriatingly hot, that’s what it is.

“Bastard”, Tsukishima grits out, and immediately Kuroo pulls out completely.

Kuroo doesn’t stop talking, there’s only the slightest hitch in his voice. Nakamura on the phone probably doesn’t even notice it, but Tsukishima does. Tsukishima, who knows every single one of Kuroo’s little tells and signs by now, knows how to rile him up. He knows Kuroo’s control is close to snapping, a string drawn perfectly tout between Tsukishima’s fingers. (Not that he is any better right now. Tsukishima isn’t even a string anymore. He’s a complete mess right now.)

“I said, be quiet”, Kuroo hisses and he leans over, pinching Tsukishima’s nipple hard. It’s painful and Tsukishima feels the need to scream, but he can’t, he isn’t allowed and so he bites the pillow again, so hard the fabric makes him choke. Kuroo laughs and palms Tsukishima’s ass, squeezing the abused flesh and hooking his thumb in his wet hole. Involuntarily, his muscles clench around the intrusion, desperate for more. Oh, how he wants Kuroo’s cock back inside of him.

He looks up at him, over his shoulder, through teary eyelashes and even though he can’t see him clearly, he’s absolutely sure Kuroo looks just as gone as he is, even if he doesn’t sound the part. Tsukishima pushes his hips against Kuroo’s hand, trying to nudge him into more, blinks up at him. Please, his lips form soundlessly and that’s when Kuroo finally loses his control. The phone gets thrown to the side, without any prior notice, but neither of them have the presence of mind to think about that, probably.

Instead, Tsukishima feels himself pushed into the mattress, Kuroo above him and without any resistance, he slides his cock back in.

“I wanna hear you”, Kuroo orders and it feels like he’s been freed from invisible shackles, hearing Kuroo’s words, the hitch in his voice. The way Kuroo is losing control just as much as Tsukishima does. The way Kuroo wants to hear him, wants him to let go.

Tsukishima whines, as Kuroo immediately pulls back out, only to slam in hard. The rhythm is brutal, hard and fast and sloppy and it feels like the air is punched out of his lungs with every thrust, tearing helpless screams and wanton cries from his lips. Tsukishima can barely feel the tears running down his cheeks as he surrenders completely, let’s Kuroo use him in just the way he loves to be used

Tsukishima doesn’t know how long it takes, how long he’s in this beautiful limbo made of pleasure and pain. He doesn’t know how long it takes until he’s coming, he doesn’t even realize when Kuroo slips a hand under his body, hoisting him up just enough to wrap his fingers around Tsukishima’s neglected, weeping cock. The slight change makes the angle so much better, every thrust tearing needy sounds from his lips and Tsukishima melts when he comes, so hard it makes his vision go black for a moment and his entire being feels floaty and like he’s drifting aimlessly, his body and Kuroo’s hands on him the only thing tying him to earth.

“You’re such a good boy, such a good little slut for Daddy”, Kuroo groans and the words send a jolt of pleasure through Tsukishima’s body, his muscles twitching. A few more thrusts, laboured breathing and then Tsukishima feels Kuroo’s body collapse on top of him.


They stay like that for just a moment, before Kuroo slips out and lifts his weight off Tsukishima’s body. Carefully, Kuroo’s hand wipes over his cheeks, drying off the tears and beads of sweat from his skin.
Tsukishima’s whole being is pliant and soft, when Kuroo moves slowly, sliding off the bed and slipping off his tie and his shirt. A small, unhappy whine escapes Tsukishima at the sudden loss of his boyfriend’s warmth. “Hey there, moonshine”, Kuroo whispers, kneeling down next to the bed to look him in the eyes. It takes Tsukishima all his willpower to not fall asleep immediately, gross and sloppy like he is.

“You okay?”

Tsukishima grunts out an attempt at an answer, but it doesn’t really work out, only an unintelligible sound leaving his mouth. He is more than okay, he thinks, still drinking in the high the scene put him in.

“I’m going to change into some comfy clothes and get you a washcloth and then we can cuddle for as long as you want, okay?”

Tsukishima nods, just barely scraping together the energy for that miniscule movement.

It takes Kuroo just a moment, but it’s still too long for Tsukishima’s liking, he desperately wants him by his side right now. But right before an actual drop can kick in, before he can spiral downwards from the waning adrenaline in his brain, Kuroo is there. He’s wearing sweatpants and a soft, worn-out T-Shirt, holding a bunch of fabric in one hand and a washcloth in the other. Carefully, with gentle touches, he cleans up Tsukishima’s body, the traces of lube and sperm and spit and tears, while softly humming a familiar melody. It’s one of the songs that’s often filtering through their apartment recently, one of Tsukishima’s current favourites and he smiles, leans into the touches and lets his mind just drift.

He barely remembers how Kuroo put his favourite hoodie on him, how he got wrapped up in a blanket and his boyfriend’s warm body. Kuroo’s humming gives way to some music from the speakers on his bedside table, gently filling the air around them. Kuroo has opened the window at some point, the fresh evening air slowly taking over the room and Tsukishima hums happily curling up into Kuroo’s arms.

“You should call Nakamura back”, is the first thing he says, after who knows how long they just spent reveling in the aftershocks of their scene. Kuroo looks down at Tsukishima and a sly grin replaces the gentle smile.

“Yeah… after all, I rejected the call without even texting her back.”

Tsukishima gasps. Blinks a few times.

“Re…jected?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yup… did you really think I’d take a work call during sex with my wonderful, perfect firefly?”

Kuroo didn’t take the call. Just…

With jerky movements, Tsukishima scrambles out of his blanket cocoon, grabbing Kuroo’s phone from the nightstand and unlocks it. There it is, right on top of the call history. A call from Kuroo’s coworker, the icon bright red, telling him the call was rejected. A rejected call. Which Kuroo pretended to accept while mercilessly taking Tsukishima apart.

“You… but…” Tsukishima blinks in confusion and Kuroo lets out a hearty laugh.

“What the hell did you talk about then?” Tsukishima forces out, his voice trembling slightly.

“Ah… you weren’t listening? Too bad… I was describing how absolutely debauched you looked. In very graphic detail.”

Tsukishima blushes hard and gives him a jab in the ribs.
Kuroo laughs and they wrangle for a moment, until Tsukishima finds himself wrapped up in Kuroo’s arms once more.

“No, honestly… I wouldn’t actually take that call. That would be really wrong. Work and sex are two separate things. If you’d want that… I don’t know, we could do that with Bokuto and Akaashi maybe? But I think that scene was pretty good even like that, wasn’t it?”

Kuroo’s voice is back to the soft and gentle tone he always uses in moments like these, during aftercare, when they are cuddling, when they have their moments of soft solitude together.

“Yeah”, Tsukishima admits. “It was really hot… but you’re still an asshole for putting me through that.”

“Oh, but you absolutely love it.”

“Yeah… yeah, I do.”

Tsukishima buries his face in Kuroo’s chest and breathes the familiar scent in deeply. He loves it. He loves their scenes, he loves when Kuroo makes him slip away like that. But most of all, he loves Kuroo.
Kuroo presses his lips to his forehead and a hand threads through his hair, playing with the soft strands on his neck.

“I love you so much”, Kuroo whispers in his ear and Tsukishima smiles.

“I love you too, you idiot.”