Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
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DECEMBER SEVENTH, TWO THOUSAND AND TWELVE
21:42 at night
THE NIGHT SKY DREAMED an ecstasy of a luminous eclipse. As the sun and moon embraced each other for a feeble moment, wrapped up in each other's arms, they watched as fate's beloved, cherished children joined together in a way that had nature shielding its gaze. Oh, let it be remembered. Let this moment never be forgotten. Neither the sun nor moon was ready for their end.
"Shh, let me take care of you."
Trails of open-mouthed kisses burned a bare chest. Fingers grazed a beautiful, sapphire-eyed boy's body tenderly. Always so tenderly. Soft; a feather's touch. A tongue poked out between luscious lips, twirling around a stiff bud. The brush of metal against tissue had a shiver crawling through the setter's spine.
( no, helix. it's not tsukki and hinata )
Tobio gasped. His fingers curled into his palm, nails digging into the base.
He tugged at the restraints.
Sora's lips curved upwards.
"Baby," he purred, hollowing his cheeks and releasing the abused nipple with a faint pop sound, "you'll be alright. Relax." Sora ran his hands along Tobio's sides. "You're all mine tonight, and I'm all yours. Enjoy your gift."
Hot pants escaped into the air. "Can you at least remove the blindfold?" Kageyama questioned, his face flushed a beautiful peach pink. Lips were parted. His head was thrown back, upper body resting against the backboard of their bed. A silk tie caressed his confined wrists, looped together in an expert knot, all of which were his soulmate's doing. Tobio's dick twitched as slender fingers trailed the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.
"Where's the fun in that?"
The saccharine smell of cherries wafted through the air. Dimmed lights accentuated the romantic aura within the room, curving and twirling in the atmosphere. Yet, behind every flaring fire, every lit, scented candle, there roamed the secrets of shadows lurking in the darkness, great, untold mysteries ready to be deciphered by keen eyes.
A body loomed over the young setter; a carnal smile etched across a refined face. Dark strands of hair fell to a picture-perfect face, and soft cerulean eyes gazed upon him with adoration brimming at the surface. Sora Suzuki. The king's knight.
Writing descriptions about him have always been easy. There was no aspect of him, no tangible part of him that was not already poetic. He was already art before anyone noticed. And he would remain so.
Art in a catastrophic world.
Tobio felt all hands withdraw from his bare body. He squirmed on the bed. It felt weird. All he could see was black. A deep, profound pool of darkness. It was unnerving, uncanny. As the setter on the court, Tobio always had exact perception of the world around him. He knew every inch; he could visual each and every area to the last detail. Like squares dividing up potential places to set the ball to.
