( akaashi doesn't fluster easily ( although this is, definitely a rare and odd circumstance ), but by the time kuroo is nuzzled against his throat, there's a splotchy red blush that starts at his cheeks and trails down the fit center of his chest, a slow descent down his body to hold something truer than his words that seem blunt at best. of course, the biggest example is where his mesh shorts bunch and tent from the protrusion of his erection, a fact which he does very little to hide, in fact -- grinding his hips again, making it clear. if there were any question about how akaashi really felt about this, it should be cleared up. his body seems overeager for every point of contact.
a commonplace, then, for the way their things for each snuck up on them both -- a second when things were normal, and then a second where kuroo was suddenly kuroo, the handsome captain of nekoma's team, his careless attitude that started with his bed head and ended with his lack of kneepads, and that smile akaashi has seen a hundred times before but that had suddenly pierced him as a direct offense. he distinctly remembers watching a nekoma game and missing the form of kenma's sets, instead relenting to watch kuroo's backside. ( it was, possibly, the one time bokuto had ever caught akaashi daydreaming. )
he sits straighter to let kuroo be more comfortable, cupping the back of his head and idly stroking long fingers through his hair, releasing a pleasurable hum to reverberate against kuroo's mouth. of course, then he says that, and the hand in his hair tightens a bit, a product of the surprise that courses through him. )
Hm.
( is the temporary answer he gives, gingerly cupping kuroo's hands to remove them, although he did like how strong they felt against him -- strong and sure and never wrong, like a good volley. it's a small room but the futon seems too far away to easily scoot towards, so akaashi just takes a seat across from him, eyebrow twitching in a temporary challenge.
it all feels like one challenge after the other. it's fun.
akaashi's next ace up his sleeve comes like this: confidently hooking his thumb around the elastic of his shorts, and easily willing it down his hips, springing his cock from its confines. loose setter's fingers trace up and down the shaft of it, which he wonders if it's more of a tease for himself or kuroo. )
You said please. ( he remarks afterwards. his eyes don't leave kuroo's even as he the tip of his pointer finger spreads precome against the spongey head of his cock, making akaashi bite his lip. ) As if the answer wasn't already yes.
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a commonplace, then, for the way their things for each snuck up on them both -- a second when things were normal, and then a second where kuroo was suddenly kuroo, the handsome captain of nekoma's team, his careless attitude that started with his bed head and ended with his lack of kneepads, and that smile akaashi has seen a hundred times before but that had suddenly pierced him as a direct offense. he distinctly remembers watching a nekoma game and missing the form of kenma's sets, instead relenting to watch kuroo's backside. ( it was, possibly, the one time bokuto had ever caught akaashi daydreaming. )
he sits straighter to let kuroo be more comfortable, cupping the back of his head and idly stroking long fingers through his hair, releasing a pleasurable hum to reverberate against kuroo's mouth. of course, then he says that, and the hand in his hair tightens a bit, a product of the surprise that courses through him. )
Hm.
( is the temporary answer he gives, gingerly cupping kuroo's hands to remove them, although he did like how strong they felt against him -- strong and sure and never wrong, like a good volley. it's a small room but the futon seems too far away to easily scoot towards, so akaashi just takes a seat across from him, eyebrow twitching in a temporary challenge.
it all feels like one challenge after the other. it's fun.
akaashi's next ace up his sleeve comes like this: confidently hooking his thumb around the elastic of his shorts, and easily willing it down his hips, springing his cock from its confines. loose setter's fingers trace up and down the shaft of it, which he wonders if it's more of a tease for himself or kuroo. )
You said please. ( he remarks afterwards. his eyes don't leave kuroo's even as he the tip of his pointer finger spreads precome against the spongey head of his cock, making akaashi bite his lip. ) As if the answer wasn't already yes.