keiji woke up to almost complete darkness. the morning shine seeping through what little gaps the blackout curtains leave for them.
he immediately learns its a weekend. a proper, free weekend in which he can sleep for however long he wants and wake up around the last hours of the morning (never noon, never! he’ll go on a rampage!) instead of 6am for work or 8am weekends for when bokuto has to leave and he’s in charge of his bento for the day— everyday.
a content sigh leaves the seem of his lips as he burrows his body impossibly deeper into the dark navy sheets. bokuto’s pick, of course.
the enormous screen tv right in front of the bed clicks rhythmically and then akaashi also learns that bokuto is already awake. “mm” he acknowledges him, putting little to no effort in his mumbling attempt to tell his hulk of a partner to go back to sleep.
koutaro just shifts to give his crown a kiss in reply. the tv keeps making clicks and sounds, what keiji has known for years as the sound of when boredom hits you like a truck and you find yourself scrolling to the ends of netflix.
he mumbles again, this time something along the lines of “‘sh noyshy, churn ich off.”
the bastard has the nerve to chuckle.
“now, now, akaashi. don’t have to be so grumpy after the night we just had.” and oh— oh if only akaashi had enough strength in this early morning to slap that smirk clean off his boyfriend’s face, that would be the absolute lifelong dream, better than a steaming hot cup of americano on days like these.
he must’ve mumbled more incoherence, a few loosely strewn together curses and insults his sleep addled brain could surprisingly come up with because now there’s a breath ghosting over his ear and a warm hand snaking it’s way down, down, down.
keiji feels the relief of being on his stomach and not on his back or else koutaro would already be fondling him like a crazed pervert.
“you know, you call me a lot of profanities whenever you’re like this. i do wonder why. you’re never one to have a foul mouth, akaashi. whoever might’ve taught you them, huh?”
akaashi finds himself groaning. two reasons: one, bokuto koutaro is the numero uno, most obvious influence to akaashi’s influx of cursing abilities, proportional to his fast growing knowledge of throwing a combination or two at said influence (second is no other than kuroo). two, he can feel the blood leave his brain and rush straight south.
“let me sleep.” he pleads. though, even to his own ears, that sounded a little flat, insincere. this, however, only encourages koutaro to grab a handful of his meaty ass. simultaneously leaving sweet smooches over his skin, what of his neck is exposed to him in his position, the nice points of his shoulders and the nub of his spine just below the nape.
he’s contemplating. what good is early morning sex, if it’s any good at all. maybe they should just save this tension for later, a quickie during the noon, maybe? or they could finally go on that trip to the grocery together, long overdue. akaashi would love for that to go first, simply so he can arrive back home with his love and offer himself to him with zero distractions, none of the boxes of his to do unticked.
the hand on his ass slips between his cheeks, softly rubbing and caressing him there, pressing at all the right spots, trekking down to his sensitive perineum and then back up, only grazing on where koutaro knows keiji wants it most.
tch, as if telling bokuto to postpone sex was ever successful. sometimes akaashi can’t tell whether dating an athlete overflowing with testosterone is a blessing or a curse in itself.
the kisses travel over his head, koutaro kissing his fluffy hair, the shell of his ear and then his cheek before nuzzling him as his body hunches over the smaller’s.
the touch softens a little, less suggestive and more intimate. his hand travels softly back up the small of his back, tracing little patterns on the soft expanse of skin there. the other hand ruffles through akaashi’s hair, putting the slightest pressure just above his hairline and right on the crown of his head just like he knows keiji likes. for a moment, he’s reminded of exactly why dating sex on legs is alright— because more often than not, koutaro’s touches are full of love and care, so much that sometimes it’s overwhelming and keiji just wants to dig a hole and never come out, bringing bokuto’s love with him, not bokuto, just his love.
he sighs once more, an official “alright, fine” in bokuto’s vocabulary. akaashi fights with the sheets quickly and tosses them away, exposing his heated skin to the chilly temperatures of a.m.
he could basically hear the moment koutaro flashes a grin, hearing the way his lips smack right open from the silence.
“come on.” keiji whispers softly, nudging at his boyfriend’s arm to get going.
bokuto doesn’t leave him until he’s had a final smothering smooch to his cheek and then he’s bolting upright, on his knees and already chubbing himself up with a few strokes.
akaashi takes the initiative to pop his ass out, folding his right leg closer to himself to give bokuto the opening. “‘s dark in ‘ere, can’t see anything.”
“tsk, no attitude, keiji.” and there it is. the tone he uses, the name he chooses. an easy reminder that bokuto is in charge here and now. it always makes the younger go a little week in the joints, feeling his own bones shiver in delight.
this will truly be the definition of sweet, sweet morning sex.
koutaro doesn’t go through the trouble of stretching him, knowing it would be impossible that keiji’s already tightened up just after a few hours from the previous night. he does grab lube, necessary(!). koutaro rests on his haunches with keiji’s stray leg between his thighs, rubbing lube everywhere and taking position, skilfully grabbing at the meat of his ass once more.
he nudges forward against his hole, testing the waters. akaashi easily tries to sound his delight but is cut off by it altogether. “a-…aa-…ah.“
“get up.” koutaro says, low and simple. but keiji is up immediately shifting on his knees and elbows, finally detaching from the sheets.
bokuto tries again, lining up and nudging, first to get in the tip and second to push in halfway. with that, keiji is knocked onto his chest, winded by the speedy escalation of things. there are strong hands grabbing at his waist, pushing the entirety of his torso down onto the mattress while his ass stays up and out.
perhaps keiji’s eyes have already rolled back. “ah-!”
he buries his face immediately, against the pillows to try and muffle and hide away.
it might be a pretty pricey apartment complex but the walls are never too thin. not to mention their neighbour is a family of four. they already get enough stares as it is. no need for more accusing ones.
bokuto doesn’t waste time and starts working up a pace, letting out ragged huffs whilst keiji feels like the sounds he makes are forced right out of his throat, uncontrollably. the bed starts creaking at the hinges— worrisome at a point but not mattering as of now.
something about all this… the position, the time of day, the day on its own and koutaro… all of it is so much. so good. the pace is soft but quick, half shallow thrusts since bokuto never pushed in all the way.
keiji appreciates that, he can’t take all of him first thing in the morning, that would just be stupid and reckless.
oh, but as they go on it starts to get inconsistent. he slips up a little further, reaching deeper at a few other strokes and it fishes out sounds keiji would never admit to making. god, he probably resembles a porn star or something. he hopes it’s the latter.
koutaro seems to be possessed by his own demons though, because now it’s ‘to hell with stupid and reckless’. he takes a moment to push in, deep. grazing areas he’d never usually dare caress. akaashi breaks out in cold sweat, breath growing short as it’s lessened by his nose basically deep into the mess of sheets and pillows.
“ahh mmh—!” his one hand grips at what he can for purchase and leverage, the other reaches back, holding koutaro’s hip at a distance he’s supposed to be in— as if that helped at all. his own groans sound so guttural, so full of meaning as koutaro starts picking up pace, and picking up pace, and picking up pace. he’s sure his nails have already started digging at bokuto’s hip but akaashi knows, even if his natural instinct is to prevent going farther than what’s safe, his body won’t let him deny the pleasure from himself.
not when his partner has a cock that size and is so passionate about taking him to cloud nine and beyond. he feels a sort of burst of pleasure, wave-like as it rolls from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes. so quickly that it’s gone as soon as it came. he’s quite sure that never happened before.
not only is the bed squeaking but their skin now makes dulled slapping noises and keiji is certain that’s his own ass squelching. all that lube oozing out of his hole to accommodate something else entirely. his entrance spasms around the shaft wedged in it, feeling his lower stomach tighten up, welcoming every intrusion.
he starts getting a little louder, frequenting the noises as a result of bokuto’s ministrations. he sounds strained when he makes them— reasonable if the way koutaro is pushing in deep, deep, deep is anything to go by and it most definitely is. akaashi would kill to keep this between them and he knows bokuto would kill to keep hearing it.
koutaro pauses once more, gripping akaashi’s hips and pushing them down just low enough to consider too low for bokuto, his quivering thighs spread wide, toes curling and the curve of his back straining. but keiji knows exactly why.
because now the swollen tip of koutaro’s cock is pressing firmly against a spot, a button, god dammit. it’s a lot. it’s too much. he’s again relieved bokuto can’t see his face right now because even though they’ve been together for no less than half a decade, keiji is still too proud to have given koutaro the satisfaction of seeing the effect of his own doings to his usually well composed brain. his eyes flutter as he feels it cross (just a little bit).
bokuto pulls out and rams back in. “AHH—“ he tries to raise away, release the pressure that verges on too much, too much, too much. but bokuto follows him, leaning forward with him as to not alleviate the perfect angle he’s now found.
a hand rests at akaashi’s nape, gripping and pushing down as bokuto goes to hell with said angle. “ohh… NGHH—!“
“shhh.” koutaro chides.
he rolls his hips back and forth, going for sensual and yet the pleasure a lot more than the pace he’d set up earlier. akaashi goes silent, head resting on the side and mouth hanging open as he’s shifted back and forth, spine slowly curving further into an S.
he raises on his knees, still trying to find relief that is away from bokuto’s cock dead on that spot, shooting wave after wave after wave of mind boggling sensations. but bokuto immediately pushes him back down before he could reign on that found relief.
he’s back to it immediately, mounting keiji and hammering home.
“fff— OH, f—!“
“shhh, quiet. be quiet.”
keiji receives three more thrusts, each one growing heavier against the spot and then—
“nghh- aahh, haahhh!!”
“shut up, keiji!” koutaro whisper shouts.
“but i came… koutaro i— i came.”
akaashi actually has no idea what’s happening. is he looking for praises? reassurance? was it okay that he came? did he have permission? they never really had any foreplay like that so, it should be, right?
however, bokuto doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. instead he gets off keiji’s back and starts actually pounding him, pounding keiji into overdrive and himself into eventual release.
keiji has a final, lasting groan thrown out of his throat and koutaro finds no more reason to scold him for his noise, it’s already been done.
“i’m cumming—“ koutaro instinctively pushes in the deepest he can go, bending akaashi’s back in impossible ways as he does just so he can growl low and painful into his ear.
for a few moments they stay like that, surrounded by the dark and connected in ways that can’t be discussed in broad daylight. for a few moments akaashi forgets reality, he floats between the final waves of an explosive orgasm and the slow realization of what in the world just happened.
he turns his head, going back to face planting onto the nearest soft thing which happens to be the duvet. gently groaning at the exertion so early in the day.
bokuto twitches inside him making him flinch a little bit. koutaro lets out a sort of embarrassed huff before a hand snakes it’s way through akaashi’s now damp roots.
“wha da fuck wash that?” he mumbles, shifting once more to try and make eye contact with his partner.
truthfully, none of their sex really ever felt like that. knowing bokuto, they’d usually be the type to fuck reckless and sure that was reckless but shit, what the fuck was that?
it isn’t a myth that anal sex isn’t exactly the most stimulus kind for males. usually keiji would need a hand, rub himself into completion just as bokuto does inside him. it’s pleasurable, a lot pleasurable. but it’s also a little annoying and takes a lot of unnecessary stamina compared to just grinding on each other.
koutaro loves it, though and keiji doesn’t actually hate it all that much to stop doing it. but hell, that just now was never like any other. and they’ve been doing it for years.
“i’m glad we did this.” koutaro kisses his damp shoulder, gently biting right after.
“of course you are.” he retorts. he earns a scoff from the older.
“i’ve always wanted to try that out but i’m always a little too clouded whenever we do it.” bokuto has the nerve to sound sheepish. “i end up forgetting about it most of the time. i’m surprised i kept a level head this time.” he explains, rolling his palms over akaashi’s back to alleviate any soreness.
“level head? you went ballistic as usual, bokuto-san.”
his answer is another fond chuckle as fingers caress his cheeks and lips are locking onto his.
“wait—mm-“ akaashi tries to evade the sweet little lip locks, courtesy of koutaro’s stubborn confidence and truthfully amazing kissing skills. “bokuto-san—“ koutaro only deepens the kiss, keiji lets him for a few split seconds but finally pushes him away as soon as bokuto’s sly tongue started prodding at the seam of his lips.
“what? i’m trying to have a cute make-out session!”
“mph— stop! try what out?!” he screeches, a little scandalized at the realization of his partner’s previous words.
bokuto’s brows knit and then his eyes light up. “oh! prostate play!” he grins, so stupidly air-headed.
oh. that’s what it was…
akaashi’s left appalled. staring into space. if he knows anything about bokuto koutaro, it’s that he is one persistent son of a bitch. he will stop at nothing to get what he wants and will just go beyond human abilities once he’s got the thing within his grasp. now that he’s learned to play with akaashi’s body like that… akaashi sees his life flash before his eyes.
bokuto starts pulling out and then kisses his temple sweetly. “coffee?”
“yes… yes coffee, please.”
“ “akaashiii…” he starts whining as soon as he’s up and standing. staring at his naked form in the full length mirror just by the door of their room, akaashi takes this as the chance to grab his glasses from the bedside table and slide them on. “cut your nails, will you!” he inspects the multiple crescents indented and swollen red around his right hip, near bleeding.
later that day, bokuto takes note that akaashi seems to be a little floaty. he’s turned into an air-head himself and floats around the kitchen like a fairy after that trip to the grocery.
he might be biased, a little delusional maybe, but he can tell keiji is having a good day. there’s a slight wince on certain occasions like when he takes too long to settle on his seat or when he’s more prone to tripping on his own feet.
and well, bokuto is just that bit primal for letting slip a prideful quirk to his lip as he watches him. what can he say, he’s been in love for just a little over a decade. his hand restlessly fiddles with the blue velvet box on his left jacket pocket.
after dinner, out on that small park, bokuto takes akaashi’s hand in his.