Bokuto and Akaashi have been living with Kuroo and Kenma for all of four months before Bokuto finally brings it up. It’s probably because Kuroo and Kenma have been careful not to have loud sex when their roommates are home, but every so often they’ll be in the middle of something when their roommates get home, and honestly there’s no point stopping then.
Kenma’s expecting Bokuto to tell them to be more careful, but instead he laughs. “Jeez,” he says. “Who knew Kuroo could be so loud?” He winks at Kenma. “You should teach me a thing or two.”
Kenma looks up at him, cocking his head. “I don’t know what Akaashi likes,” he murmurs.
Bokuto gets a bright look on his face, but Kenma cuts him off quickly.
“I’m not fucking your boyfriend, Bokuto,” he murmurs.
Bokuto slumps against the counter, pouting.
“Though if I don’t have to get naked I could be convinced to do whatever Kuroo and Akaashi are comfortable with,” he adds, not looking up from his game.
Akaashi nearly chokes on his coffee.
“Really?” Bokuto cries, bounding over to grin at him over the PSP. “I’ll get you that game you wanted!”
“Ask them,” Kenma says, in order to get Bokuto off his back.
“I wouldn’t mind if I can watch,” Kuroo laughs. “It’s worth it if it gets Akaashi worked up for once.”
He and Bokuto fix Akaashi with a look. “There’s nothing wrong with your performance, Bokuto,” Akaashi says, though he looks as though he knows where this conversation is headed, no matter what he says.
“Come oooon, Akaaaaashiiiii,” Bokuto whines. “I wanna see if Kenma can get you really hot and bothered. Like reeeeeally.”
Akaashi sighs, then shrugs, “Why not,” he relents.
That’s how Akaashi ends up with his head in Bokuto’s lap, Kenma kneeling between his legs and Kuroo perched behind him, grinning at him in encouragement.
Kenma doesn’t seem to be turned on by the situation at all. He wastes little time before working one finger into Akaashi and finding his prostate. Akaashi shivers a little with it, but he’s used to the feeling.
Kenma glances up at him, and his look is purely tactical. Akaashi appreciates it. He’s not exactly in the heat of the moment either. “You’re less sensitive than Kuroo,” he murmurs.
“I probably finger myself more than Kuroo,” Akaashi says, because if he’s been talked into this he’s at least going to be cooperative with Kenma, who’s really only humoring Akaashi’s boyfriend in the first place.
“Show me how,” Kenma says, without a shadow of a question in the sentence. Akaashi assumes he’s used to having Kuroo wrapped around his little finger.
He sighs and shows Kenma how he likes it, though honestly, if that’s all Kenma’s going to do, it would have been easier just to show Bokuto that. He scissors his fingers slightly, then circles his prostate until Kenma grasps his hand and pulls it away, nodding a little like he’s understood.
He slides two fingers in from the get go, and brushes them feather-light against Akaashi’s prostate, gauging Akaashi’s reaction. It’s a great deal lighter than Akaashi’s used to, which makes him shiver. Kenma repeats the motions, never quite brushing hard enough to get Akaashi off, but incessantly and quickly.
It’s actually getting to Akaashi. He frowns down at Kenma, but Kenma just glances down and gives his cock a contemplative look. “May I?” he asks Bokuto, gesturing down at Akaashi’s cock with his eyes.
Bokuto gives a breathy, “Yeah,” and Kenma peeks back at Kuroo for a moment, waiting for his shaky nod of approval before leaning down and giving Akaashi’s cock a little kitten lick. Akaashi jerks, meeting Kenma’s eyes. Kenma still doesn’t change his expression in the least. He looks kind of bored, if anything.
He keeps up the licks and they’re just as frustrating as the way his fingers brush against Akaashi’s prostate, and by now, Akaashi is squirming. Kenma’s barely even doing anything, but the little motions he makes are building up and up and Akaashi is desperate for something that will actually get him off.
Kenma pops the tip of Akaashi’s cock into his mouth and sucks hard, pressing down on Akaashi’s prostate as he does so, and Akaashi cries out, arching into it, thrusting once before Kenma draws back, letting Akaashi’s cock drop free.
Akaashi gives a frustrated grunt.
“Kuroo,” Kenma says quietly. “Could you hold his hips down for me?”
Kuroo nods, draping himself over Kenma and pressing Akaashi’s hips down into the bed. Akaashi gives an experimental thrust, but he’s not moving anywhere.
Kenma uses that to up the ante. He keeps up with the tiny, tiny little strokes and licks, but he throws in more and more sudden, hard onslaughts. Akaashi thinks there might be a rhythm to it, but each onslaught leaves him more desperate than the last, and he can’t think straight enough to figure it out, to anticipate it.
Finally, it appears that Kenma is willing to take pity on him, because he switches to fingering Akaashi properly, his tongue running up and down Akaashi’s length. Akaashi nearly sobs with relief. He’s so oversensitive by now that Kenma has worked him almost to the brink of orgasm in under a minute with firm, steady strokes.
He twists, his head sliding back into Bokuto’s lap, falling back as he reaches the cusp…
Kenma stops everything, pulling his fingers and his mouth away.
Akaashi lets out a pained shout, trying to keep thrusting in case he can maybe, just maybe get over the edge, orgasm anyway, but Kuroo holds him tight until he stops writhing, instead gasping for breath.
He pries his eyes open and sees Bokuto looking at him, eyes wide in wonder. He looks at him in silent pleading, but it seems Kenma has brought out the sadist in Bokuto too, because Bokuto just lets Kenma take it back up again, touches faint again.
Akaashi kicks and tries to push back into the touches, even though he knows it’s useless. His nerves are on fire, he can barely breathe, and he wants more.
“Please,” he gasps, and Bokuto shudders beneath him. Akaashi can only imagine how wrecked he must look now, pinned down and still desperately squirming, trying to fuck himself on Kenma’s fingers.
Kenma gives him one, hard stroke and swallows him down in response. Akaashi whines, toes curling with the agonizing pleasure that sweeps through him at just a single, real touch. “Please!” he cries again.
“C-can I?” Bokuto asks, as though Akaashi’s not his boyfriend and Kenma has any say over whether Bokuto will fuck him or not.
“Do it hard and fast,” Kenma replies, stepping aside so that Bokuto can slip out from under Akaashi’s head and circle around to take Kenma’s place.
He gazes down at Akaashi for a moment, and Akaashi pants back up at him. “Please,” he whispers, hips stuttering involuntarily.
Bokuto slides in, fingers gently sliding up Akaashi’s hips. “Ready?” he asks.
Akaashi nods. He’s beyond ready. He’s going to combust if his boyfriend doesn’t fuck him right this moment. Bokuto pulls him up into his lap and then follows Kenma’s advice. His pace is crushing, and each thrust hits Akaashi’s prostate like a bolt of lightning.
Akaashi can hear the lewd sounds dripping from his mouth, but he doesn’t care, because he’s so full around Bokuto’s dick and every movement is like liquid fire through his veins. He’s quite literally seeing stars, and he grasps wildly at Bokuto’s hair in the vague hope that he doesn’t fall apart entirely.
His orgasm finally, finally hits like an earthquake, whiting out everything. He screams, holding onto Bokuto for dear life as Bokuto fucks him through it, coming hot inside Akaashi before Akaashi has even rode out the peak.
Akaashi’s limbs have turned to jello. He’s still shaking, but he fixes Kuroo with as withering a look as he possibly can. “Your boyfriend is a monster,” he mutters. The statement is undermined slightly by the fact that Kenma’s absently licking at his fingers to get the taste of Akaashi out of his mouth, looking grumpy and tiny as Kuroo rests his chin on Kenma’s head with a lazy grin.
“Don’t be mean, Akaashi,” Bokuto teases, as winded as Akaashi is. “It seemed to me you enjoyed it alright towards the end.”
Oh no, Akaashi thinks.
“Kenma, please don’t teach him how to do this,” Akaashi says.
“I watched, I can figure it out,” Bokuto says.
“You look so good desperate.”
Akaashi sighs. “We’re not doing it every night,” he insists.
“Every other night?”
“Once a week?”
They end up edging almost every night after all, on the condition that Bokuto gets edged as often as Akaashi.