「 untold feelings 」━━━ sakuatsu

─ eight

"Ah— you're taking me in so well, sweetheart."

Pure greed leaked from his words, and he was scared his sempiternal vices would end up sending him burn in hell for good sometime. But Sakusa could sell his soul to the devil at this point, nothing really mattered anymore when the setter was how he liked him most, obedient on his knees, shamelessly — almost needily — sliding his entire length in between his sweet, vicious and ungodly lips. His face was damp, bathed in sweat, tears, hot water and saliva, leaving almost no room for a mere breath. Sakusa shuddered, felt his spit-soaked thighs tremble, and forced an impassive expression on his face as his cock slid in between the other man's obscenely swollen lips repeatedly, tinted with a pretty shade of cherry red. The scene was crude and intimate, like a secretly shared instant out of this world, but despite the deceptive sweetness of their groans and caresses anyone would've been able to sense the flame of hatred that burned inside both their souls and turned their slightest strokes into hits. Sakusa parted thin lips in order to moan again, amazed and weak.

Perhaps he wasn't so in control anymore.

"You should see yourself," he said as to get ahold of himself, half scolding, half chuckling. "Fuck, your mouth was made for this."

Atsumu liked attention. From Sakusa, especially, who always managed to give him a lot without doing much. He didn't care whether his words were praise or degradation, a compliment or an insult, Atsumu would take it as it was, and revel in each part of it. No matter what Sakusa would say or do to him, he wouldn't stop until his slutty face was covered in creamy cum, his dominant's cum, and blew any doubt away when he went back to deepthroating him. What a fucking perfect, perfect submissive.

The younger man rested his head against the tiled wall. A pleased sigh spilled from his steam-kissed lips, damaged and bloody from the amount of times he'd bitten them too, hoping Atsumu wouldn't notice it. The blond rubbed his warm, clever tongue in circles around the tip of his throbbing manhood, paying special attention to its dripping slit. A groan escaped Sakusa's slightly parted lips, low and throaty.

Are ya losin' it, Omi ? Doesn't matter what I do now, you're not gonna stop. Yer too far fuckin' gone.

Of course Atsumu noticed everything, and was much more aware of his partner's weaknesses than the latter would like. Oh, how Sakusa hated that feeling of true fragility, of inferiority. Atsumu choked on a chuckle, arrogant and cheeky, feeling the other man tug at the light blond locks of his hair and push his head back and forth along his pulsating member. His veiny forearms trembled slightly. He shoved his cock in and out of Atsumu's throat hard enough to make him gag, sighing satisfyingly. It felt good to remind himself — or perhaps the both of them — of his supremacy. Still deeply buried in the forgotten abyss of his sins, part of him knew it was only a deceptive lie and the gaze of Atsumu's teary eyes screamed it louder than his own thoughts would ever be able to. Getting lewder each time the older man's sweaty forehead met Sakusa's stomach, the scene reached its peak when the latter began to grind his hips in slow, dirty motions, fucking his mouth relentlessly, jaw clenched, eyes cold. Truly, it was the epitome of obscenity.

"I feel it soon, babe," Sakusa groaned under his husky breath, feeling himself reach his orgasm.

His belly tensed, his thighs jerked and his grip went tight enough to carve the shape of his nails into Atsumu's scalf. A slow, torturingly gentle pleasure licked his insides like the wild flames of hell, bringing him closer and closer to his climax each second. His cock twitched. Beads of sweat dropped from his toned, trembling arms. His mouth fell open, barely able not to draw out any betraying sound. Atsumu held back a chuckle, and engulfed his swollen member in the deepest crevices of his throat, earning a reluctant growl from his dominant.

That's right, Kiyoomi. Come for me.

Sakusa struggled to stay still, and shot his creamy hot seed down Atsumu's throat relentlessly. He ran his slender fingers through his wet hair, slightly pulling it while his other free hand kept Atsumu's mouth closed, sewn, shut. This side of Atsumu, sitting still and obedient like a fucking good boy, sleeping like a raging storm beneath quiet water, despite its silent beauty, was pretty unsettling to Sakusa. It was something all new and scary, something he'd had to learn to bear since their very first play, something that seemed stronger than him. All this power, though willingly bent and submitted to Sakusa's heart's content through restraints and leather collars, sometimes seemed a little indomitable. He stared at the blonde, dead in the eyes.

"Swallow it," Sakusa exhaled.

Atsumu moaned around his dick, still fluttering slightly from the post-orgasm heat. Sakusa wouldn't need to say it twice, the bob of his Adam apple a fair indicator of his compliance. Atsumu pulled out with a slutty pop of the lips, a long line of spit stretching from the tip of Sakusa's member to his dripping tongue. The younger man slid his fingers inside his mouth gently, letting drool mixed with milky cum leak from his dainty lips, painting him as the true cumslut he was. Once he was allowed to stand up, Sakusa took his face in between his palms and shoved his tongue in between his teeth, savoring the way his own salty taste mixed with the sweetness of his saliva.

Something burned, ripped and punched Sakusa's guts as their tongues swayed in a drunken waltz, something that would've been aggressive and foreign a day ago though he could identify that feeling now — its cause, its signification, its consequences. He opened his eyes to meet the ever smug Atsumu he had always known, sweating and smirking, arrogant and heartless, and it was a new punch. Sakusa had no doubt anymore.

This was all going to be trouble.