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- Haikyuu!! (18)
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Summary
In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is a photography major with a semester project to finish, and Miya Atsumu is the university’s golden boy of volleyball who won’t leave him alone.
For a moment, Atsumu just stared at him, lips parting slightly like his brain had to buffer the information. “Is this flirting?”
“No.”
“That sounds like flirting,” Atsumu said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Like—really sounds like flirting.”
“You’re just perfect,” Sakusa said, with the same flat finality he used when correcting someone’s grammar.
Atsumu blinked. “Okay, now I’m very confused about whether this is flirting or not.”
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“It’s not your fault, Bokuto.”
“Then why won’t you let me help you? You did it for me all the time.”
Akaashi couldn’t stop thinking about how close he was. Just two or three steps. His legs had gone stiff, useless, like they weren’t even there. He needed to push him away. He bit his lip and let the towel fall onto the bench. Then he lifted his head and met Bokuto’s gaze.
Bokuto was still watching him—owl-eyed, searching his face for anything, anything to read.
It wasn’t two or three steps—it was exactly the length of Akaashi’s arm. Akaashi realized it in the moment when he reached out, grabbed a handful of his damp shirt, and tugged him closer.
He didn’t know if it would work—if they’d fit—but it was now or never.
For someone who felt so weak, their teeth knocked together hard. The sound echoed in his ears, not pleasant at all, but then all he could register was the heat and wet of Bokuto’s mouth. Behind his closed eyelids, light flared—spots, stars, fireworks and that red warning light.
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One beer, maybe two. Talk to a few people. Stand in a corner. Exist. Then leave. That was the plan. What wasn’t the plan was standing frozen near the edge of the living room, plastic cup in hand, while the music vibrated through the floorboards and the crowd shifted just enough to give him a perfect fucking view.
Of them. Up against the wall. Some girl pinned between them.
Bokuto had his mouth on her neck, hands on her waist. Grinding. Like he was fucking her with his hips through their clothes. And Kuroo was kissing her, one hand already up the back of her shirt, the other tangled in her hair.
All three of them were smiling through it. Drunk. Horny.
And not looking at him. Not even once.
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“I’ve had enough of your mouth,” Sakusa said, his voice cold and commanding. “So, let’s put it to better use.”
Atsumu blinked, his grin faltering for the first time. “Wha—”
“On your knees, Atsumu,” Sakusa said smoothly, and for the first time, his voice wrapped around the blond’s name like a vice. It was rough and the effect was immediate. Atsumu’s lips parted slightly, his honey eyes blown wide with surprise—and something else.
“Oh, shit,” Atsumu breathed, his grin crawling back, this time shaky and feral. “Say that again.”
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“Bet he’s not even good in bed,” Yuuji said, his tone light but dripping with sarcasm, the grin spreading wider as he tilted his head to glance at Yama.
Yama stiffened slightly, his eyes narrowing as he shot Yuuji a look—a mix of disbelief and annoyance.
“Seriously?” Yama muttered, but there was a flicker of something in his expression, like he didn’t know whether to roll his eyes or laugh.
“What?” Yuuji shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “I’m just saying. All that height? Bet it’s all for show. He probably lies there like a fucking plank.”

