「 untold feelings 」━━━ sakuatsu

─ ten

The rain never stopped from pouring.

Sleeping like quiet water beneath his perpetual stoic and wise facade, Sakusa's fantasmatic side only waited for the thousand-dollar clock to his wristband to strike midnight to explode like a summer storm. He was sitting on his chair, satiny pants lowered down half his thighs, biting onto his shirt to keep it from hindering his endeavour.

He was so fucking frustrated. 

Sakusa had been torturing himself ever since the shade of Winter's starlit but moonless nights had dawned upon the campus, questions on earlier's events spinning around his head until it ached. Atsumu was like a sweet trap to his worn out soul.

And he might be the cause of his madness.

And yet, Sakusa knew he had to give in his primal needs in order to relieve the pent-up tension and doubt his body had been building up this whole evening — threatening to explode anytime.

He'd once again bent to his own cunning desires, count of how many times he'd gave in tonight lost in seemingly everlasting behind-closed-doors pleasure. Five, was it ? But oh, none of this really mattered anymore, when he'd been for months adding fuel to the wildfire-like feel coursing through his veins no aftermath guilt can overpower.

So here Sakusa Kiyoomi was again, pumping up and down his throbbing manhood at a divine speed, lewd groans repeatedly hitting the walls of his room as flourishing self-disgust creeped underneath his skin.

He was going insane, wondering how a thought so mere had him so submissive, endless ironies inexorably backfiring. It was unbearable.

He fastened the pace of his hand, slapping sounds from tip to base getting noisier, louder, feeling like he wouldn't last any longer. Sakusa threw his head back, further spreading boundless legs a little more, high building up in his stomach, as the only thing that came to his mind in that moment was Miya Atsumu. He came for what felt like an eternity, biting his lower lip to try and contain his obscene groans, spilling his milky cum all over his desk.

Frustration had never felt this good.

"Fuck."

The young man had sworn and masturbated too much for one night. He grabbed his usual post-orgasm cigarette and lit it up, feeling his sanity fade in the stifling air of his room like the weak flame of an old candle you can't hope to ever relight. His lustful thoughts refused to leave his mind, and when the expression on his submissive's face — trying to bear the pain of his hundreds of twisted punishments — hit his fuzzy mind, he suddenly craved for another orgasm.

He cursed under his unsteady breath, feeling the whole of his blood rushing straight to his throbbing dick — again. His stamina was everlasting. He sighed in annoyance, wondering if he'd ever stop, go to sleep, and eventually recover his usual self-discipline.

But Sakusa didn't seem to give a fuck about control tonight.

His thumb began to rub soft circles around the tip of his member, spreading his fluids along his wet length as his hand began to jerk his cock. Once again, Sakusa abandoned himself to his sweetest sins, letting his mind work for him in picturing delusional fantasies of an obvious someone.

It was hellishly painful to admit it, but when he realized with horror that he couldn't pleasure himself anymore without thinking of that dickhead, it became undeniable. He'd played with the devil, and only won at the end of the day, to lose at his own little risky game.

Sakusa Kiyoomi had fallen in love.