The box arrives at their apartment doorstep discreetly packaged. It’s the third one this week, and Atsumu really hopes the third time is the charm because he’s dropping quite a bit of his budget to just get Sakusa to make out with him already.
Could he just say “hey, let’s make out, I want to date you”? Sure. How much money would that cost? None. Is he going to do it? Nope.
What he is doing instead is slinging this lacy black bra around his shoulders in his locked bedroom and then cursing because the shoulder straps are too tight. He yanks the bralette off to fiddle with the clasps, feeling a little clumsy when his fingertips take some pinpoint maneuvering to adjust the straps.
“God, I can feel my dick shrivellin’ up,” he mutters, finally getting the bra on and bending to slide the stockings up his legs. Atsumu stops halfway to wonder if he should shave his legs, but then he hears Sakusa in his room shift and get up to go to the kitchen. He checks his reflection quickly in his mirror; bra, check, stockings, check, lacy thong and garterbelt, check. No shoes, but it’s fine. Hopefully he doesn’t slip on the hardwood floor.
Showtime is now, or in the next twenty seconds, whenever Atsumu can get these stockings clipped to the garter belt.
He’s in this mess (the situation, not the lingerie. The lingerie is not messy and quite pretty, actually) all because of himself, of course. He remembers it all starting because he’d been frustrated at his inability to get a date.
Atsumu had flopped onto the couch in their living room. “Okay, TMI, but we’ve been roommates for like a year and this winter sucks. It’s like everyone’s already got dates. I want someone to keep me warm too, Omi-Omi.”
Sakusa flipped a page of his textbook and continued typing at the kitchen table without looking up. “You can just say you’re horny.”
Atsumu snorted. “Thanks for the permission. I’m horny.”
“I can leave if you want to masturbate.”
“Nah, I’ve done it when you’re around, there’s no need.” He’d cracked up at Sakusa’s face scrunching with disgust.
“Besides, Omi-Omi, masturbatin’ is just one piece of the puzzle. I wanna go on some dates! It just snowed! Ice skating! Hot chocolate! Sex in front of a fireplace? That’s a winter thing, right?”
“We don’t have a fireplace, but there’s a rug,” Sakusa said, looking amused at the little round mat underneath the coffee table.
“How luxurious,” Atsumu had drawled. Without thinking, he’d followed that with, “I’d let you take me on this IKEA bathroom mat we deemed not-bathroom-enough to function as a living room rug,” and then promptly wanted to jump out into the cold because he’d been trying to get over his giant crush on Sakusa by going on a few dates with some new people.
There’s always new faces on campus, and though everyone he spent time with was nice, he always left the apartment after Sakusa adjusted his outfit with his stupid gentle hands, been pushed to change into something else if Sakusa deemed his outfit awful, came home to Sakusa asking him about his date with a sort of guarded, falsely interested look on his face.
“You’d have to take me on a date.”
Atsumu had nearly choked on his own spit. “First? Before the bathroom rug tryst?”
“Before or after, as long as there’s a date,” Sakusa had shrugged, closing the laptop and making his way over to Atsumu on the couch.
He pushed Atsumu’s legs off the couch so he could sit down. “Do you want to?”
Atsumu swallows. Sakusa’s expression is completely serious. “Date you?”
“That,” Sakusa had said, nodding, “but also this,” and hauled Atsumu into his lap. “Because I want to.”
“Um,” Atsumu had said intelligently, unwilling to believe he’d been handed everything he’s wanted for the past six months in one moment. “I think I need to think about this?”
Sakusa had dropped his hands and Atsumu had clambered off. “Sure. Take your time. My mind’s not changing anytime soon.”
It’s been two weeks since then. Atsumu’s basically driven himself nuts wondering what Sakusa’s hands would feel like on his skin. All he had to do was ask, but where’s the fun in that?
He’d been wanting to try out some lingerie, anyway. The first outfit was pretty tame; tight black boxer briefs, tight woven mesh shirt just see-through enoguh, and he’d stumbled out of his room to Sakusa having a video call with his group project partners.
“Okay, so I can handle the results section –“ and Sakusa had promptly choked on a sip of tea, face going red. Atsumu wiggled his eyebrows and did some jazz hands before going back to his room to put on proper clothes on for his date, and left to his club date feeling a little smug when he saw Sakusa’s ears were still red.
The second outfit wasn’t technically lingerie, but it still got Sakusa flustered. Atsumu counts that as a win. Azumane Asahi roped in a bunch of them – Atsumu, Osamu, Tobio, Hinata, Bokuto and Akaashi – to do some impromptu photoshoots with his prototype designs. He shipped some clothes to Sakusa and Atsumu’s apartment where everyone got dressed up in; a lot of it wasn’t conventional men’s fashion, so Atsumu ended up in a soft frilled blouse half tucked into a plaid skirt that reached his knees. Atsumu being Atsumu chose traditionally masculine poses (slouched shoulders, legs spread, one leg up to prop his arm up on) so the skirt rode up probably a lot higher than Azumane intended.
Whenever Atsumu glanced over from the ruckus the group was making over their clothes, Sakusa had buried his nose into his book with another blush dusting across his cheekbones.
This third outfit will either make Sakusa spontaneously combust or kick him out.
“Hey, Omi-kun.” Atsumu pokes his head out of his room. Sakusa is on the couch, flicking through different YouTube videos for something to watch. “Can y’give me a rating out of five stars on this outfit?”
Sakusa looks over and raises an eyebrow at how only his head is visible. “Sure. Where are you going tonight?”
“Plannin’ to stay in, actually,” Atsumu says, and steps out. He probably should’ve practiced some poses but just goes with what feels right. He does a slow twirl and props one hand on his hip.
“Ratin’ out of five stars?”
“Uh,” Sakusa says. “It’s nice,” he continues, voice strangled in his throat. “Four point five.” There's the red ears and wide eyes. Nice.
Atsumu looks down at himself. “Damn. Reason for deduction?”
“No warning given to me beforehand.” Sakusa clears his throat and Atsumu quietly relishes in his inability to look away.
Atsumu shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “It’s s’posed to be a romantic gesture.”
Sakusa, to his credit, is taking this surprisingly calmly. His brow wrinkles in confusion. “I’m sure whoever you’re gesturing for will appreciate it. Is someone coming over? I’ve told you, you should let me know earlier if you’re planning to have someone stay – “
“Omi-Omi,” Atsumu says through a laugh. His head cocks to one side, mouth curling into a grin. “Who else is there in this house to gesture at?”
“There’s only you and me,” Sakusa replies, and Atsumu watches the understanding dawn like the sun breaking over the horizon, the red of Sakusa’s blush unfurling across his face.
“Honestly, Omi-kun. I thought it’d click a little faster than this.”
“Shut it,” Sakusa says, and stalks toward him. “Let me try surprising you with lingerie out of nowhere on a Sunday afternoon and we’ll see if you can even form a coherent sentence.” Atsumu backs down the hallway and tries to remember where his room is.
“Let’s work on gettin’ it off me first,” he says, and straight up cackles when Sakusa lunges and they crash onto his bed in a tangle of eager limbs. Sakusa gets up onto his knees and Atsumu sucks in a nervous breath, arrested by the way Sakusa’s stare tracks down his skin. His pupils are blown wide and dark and if Atsumu had any doubts about his blunt seduction technique not working, they’re gone now.
“This is – " Sakusa cuts off, too entranced when he smooths his hands up the stockings on Atsumu’s legs.
“Incredible? Show-stoppin’? Spectacular?”
“Hot,” Sakusa breathes. Heat floods Atsumu’s stomach.
“Touch yourself.” Sakusa sits back on his heels and splays Atsumu’s legs on either side of his hips. “Where’s your lube?”
“Bottom bedside drawer.” The small bottle bounces next to his head followed by the crinkle of a condom wrapper. “Touch myself? I was hopin’ you’d get to touch me.”
“Oh, I plan on it,” Sakusa says, the promise of it warming Atsumu’s face. He reaches forward and brushes Atsumu’s erection which prompts a small whine out of Atsumu. “But it’d be a waste if I took this off you now without having some fun first.”
“'M all yours.” Sakusa swallows and nods, rubbing his palms against Atsumu’s thighs. They feel a little sweaty and Atsumu feels reassured that he isn’t the only one somewhat overwhelmed right now.
Sakusa starts by running his lips from ankle to knee, biting gently at the soft fold when he gets to Atsumu’s knee. One hand pushes his other leg up and his thumb rubs warm circles into Atsumu’s inner thigh.
“Go on,” Sakusa encourages. “Let me see you.”
Atsumu breathes out a laugh and uncurls one of his fists tangled into the pillow. "It's hard to think when you're starin’ at me like that."
“Then don’t think. Seems easy enough for you.”
Sakusa laughs and presses an apology kiss where the cuff of the stocking tightens around Atsumu’s upper thigh. Atsumu drops one hand to cup his hardening cock, groaning gently. He rubs his palm over the head that's straining the thin lace and tugs the thong out of the way to get a proper grip.
Sakusa pops open the lube bottle to drip some onto Atsumu’s hand, then tosses it to the side. He’s being incredibly distracting as he leaves wet, open mouthed kisses along Atsumu’s thighs, cheekbones and nose nudging against Atsumu’s hand where Atsumu’s dragging it against his cock in slow, tight strokes, just as he always imagines Sakusa touching him would feel like.
Sakusa gets up and keeps his hands on Atsumu’s thighs to spread them wide. He curves over Atsumu to catch his mouth in a kiss and Atsumu hums into it, pleased. The head of Sakusa’s erection through his soft sleep pants slots against right where Atsumu wants him and Atsumu’s hips swivel down. Sakusa responds by pressing forward but pulls back when Atsumu tries to grind on him.
“Tease,” Atsumu accuses through his panting, and sees Sakusa’s teeth flash in his smile.
“I could say the same,” Sakusa says, as he’s leaving a path of stinging hickeys down Atsumu’s neck. His hands come up to circle Atsumu’s nipples through the lace; the roughness of it makes Atsumu whine again into Sakusa’s mouth. Sakusa breaks the kiss to drop down and tongue one of Atsumu’s nipples, one hand still focused on thumbing the nipple unoccupied by Sakusa. His teeth scrape against the lace and Atsumu’s back arches up to meet him.
He can feel his blush spreading down his chest as if it’s trying to catch up to where Sakusa pays his attentions. He continues keeping a slow pace with jerking himself off, half because he wants to torture himself and half because he gets distracted by Sakusa himself. Sakusa catches one strap of the thong between his teeth and pulls back to let it snap against Atsumu’s hip, grinning when Atsumu moans in frustration because Sakusa’s so close and so far at the same time.
Sakusa opens the lube bottle and gets some onto his hand, warming it between his fingers. He drops his hand to Atsumu’s entrance.
“'Course,” Atsumu says. “Open me up.”
“Don’t stop touching yourself,” Sakusa says, and presses in with one finger, leaning back down to worry at Atsumu’s collarbone. Atsumu opens up easily, as aroused as he is, and he can feel his vision going fuzzy at the edges while he rocks forward into his hand and back onto Sakusa’s fingers.
“Come on, pretty boy,” Sakusa murmurs. “Dressed up for me, did you? How long would you have kept doing it before you would’ve had enough?" His fingers press and scissor, eyes molten. The nickname shoots a bolt of arousal up Atsumu’s spine. He watches Sakusa gaze skip and catch at different places: Atsumu’s chest, heaving with his breathing; at the strap sliding down his shoulder; at Atsumu’s fist pumping his cock; at where three of his fingers disappear into Atsumu.
“I was already at the end of my patience today,” Atsumu says, laughing a little, the sentence fading out when Sakusa puts pressure on his prostate. “Woulda’ jumped you on the couch if you didn’t chase me into bed, Omi-kun.”
Sakusa sits back. “Then jump me now.”
“Can’t while you’re still fully clothed,” Atsumu says. Sakusa chuckles and pulls his fingers out to wrench his shirt and shorts off, grabbing the condom and opening it.
Atsumu sits up and pushes Sakusa down, fingers trailing against the scattering of moles across his shoulders and chest. One strap of his bra droops down and some of the garter belt straps swing unhooked from Sakusa’s attentions. Sakusa’s appreciative look in his eyes as Atsumu climbs over him makes him feel sexy and powerful and ready to come undone.
He lines up the head of Sakusa’s cock and sinks down slowly, eyes fluttering shut at the heat and pressure. He mumbles out loud how thick and hard it is, practically drooling, and Sakusa’s grip on his hips tells Atsumu he feels just as good.
Atsumu takes a few moments to catch his breath and adjust before working himself into a fast pace. He regrets not being able to go slower, but he can’t help himself, not when he’s already this worked up.
“Fuck,” Sakusa hisses, forearms flexing to help Atsumu bounce on his cock. He sits up and places one hand flat against the mattress to give him leverage and thrusts up, making Atsumu see stars when Sakusa brushes up against his prostate each time he bottoms out.
“Not – not gonna last,” Atsumu pants, hands gripping onto Sakusa’s shoulders.
“Show me,” Sakusa says. “Show me how good you look when you come for me, pretty boy.”
The hand that was on Atsumu’s hip moves to tug at his cock and Atsumu groans, “Fuck, Omi-kun, coming – "
Heat floods his face. When he comes to, he’s being lifted off Sakusa’s lap slowly.
“Did you – "
“Not yet,” Sakusa says, voice tight, sweat beading at his hairline. The condom rides up a little as Atsumu gets off and he reaches to yank it off.
“Fuck,” Sakusa swears again, hips jumping towards Atsumu when Atsumu reels him closer with one hand on his dick.
“C’mon, Omi-Omi,” he teases, falling back against the bed, legs falling open. “Make a mess of your pretty boy’s panties.” The heat in Sakusa’s eyes grows impossibly brighter and the sound of his hand rubbing against his cock as he jerks himself off makes Atsumu’s mouth water.
Sakusa shoves him flat on his back with one palm against Atsumu’s chest, rising up on his knees. His eyes close and his brow creases at the centre, mouth dropping open as he comes, shooting wet heat onto Atsumu’s cock and stomach. Atsumu wants it on his face next time.
“Wow,” Atsumu replies. “I’m almost ready t’go again, watchin’ you do that.” He sits up to press a kiss to Sakusa’s mouth before reaching for tissues to clean up and pull the covers over them. He tosses all the soiled lingerie off the bed to land somewhere on the ground.
“Worth it,” he says, to no one in particular but himself. Sakusa rolls Atsumu to face him with one hand on his hip.
“So all these outfits were an attempt to seduce me?”
Atsumu huffs. “I take offense to ‘attempt’, it’s clearly worked.”
“I don’t have any objection to the lingerie,” Sakusa says. “In fact, I wish I had the budget to buy more. Why didn’t you just say you wanted to go on a date?”
Atsumu scratches the side of his face, sheepish. “I’m shit at communication. Too many nerves. But!” he says, one finger in the air. “You fucked ‘em out of me, so I can say it now: I’ve had a crush on you for months, Omi-Omi. Date me. Let’s make a pool for lingerie spending.”
Sakusa huffs a laugh through his nose. “And a pool for dates.”
“Oh, right, I do gotta take you on a date. Ice skatin'?”
“Let’s just stay in bed for now,” Sakusa murmurs, eyes drooping with sleep.
Atsumu isn’t quite ready yet to stop teasing. “Bathroom rug round two later?”
Sakusa gives him an incredulous look. “God, no, do you want rug burn?”
“Fair point. Let’s make a pool for a new rug, too.”
“Why can’t we just use the bed.”
“Prime winter activities include sex on a fluffy rug in front of a fireplace, Omi-kun, we’ve had this discussion.”
“Then we’ll need a fund for a fireplace, if you want to get that exact.”
“No deal, d’you know how dangerous those things are? New rug and we’ll put on the fireplace television channel they always have around Christmas.”
Sakusa laughs. “God, that’s stupid. Deal.”
“Deal,” Atsumu says, and nuzzles in closer for a nap.