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Summary
When they reached the shadowed upper landing, he pressed Atsumu’s back against the cold wall, crowding into his space with all the pent-up intensity that had been simmering since the first meeting. Atsumu gasped, head knocking softly against plaster and eyes wide as Bokuto’s hand came up to cage his jaw.
“You have any idea what you just did down there?” Bokuto muttered, a hand sliding under Atsumu’s shirt, dragging up hard against the ridges of his stomach.
Atsumu shuddered, his mouth opening. “I was— performin’, Bokuto-san, what else—”
“You were appealing.” Bokuto’s teeth grazed the shell of his ear. “Every time you opened your mouth, every line… you begged them to look at you. And they did. They gave you everything you wanted… that attention… you love that, don’t you?”
Atsumu gasped, already pressing back against Bokuto, his cock straining against his pants. “I— fuck, I did love it.” he finally put the euphoria to words.
OR
How a six-month rehearsal turned into the longest foreplay of Atsumu’s life.
Series
- Part 6 of BottsumuWeek2025