Work Text:
Wakatoshi stared, unblinkingly, at his phone screen. A single text message, with a link attached, stared right back up at him.
>>> 20:34 Tendou Satori: here’s the vid i was telling u abt the other day! enjoy ;) [http://…]
Wakatoshi did not have to rock his memory for the aforementioned conversation. They – Wakatoshi, Tendou, Semi, and Reon (Seokawa had been invited, but he and his family had decided to go to Osaka over the break) – had been at Semi’s house, celebrating the end of their first year at university with a Shiratorizawa reunion. Wakatoshi can’t recall how the subject of the conversation had landed on porn, but everyone had been nonetheless stunned when Wakatoshi admitting to never having watched any.
“But – what if, you know,” Semi sputtered, making a crude gesture with his hand, causing Tendou to burst out in horrible, raucous giggles.
“If I what?” Wakatoshi asked, puzzled. Even Reon was staring at him, a little incredulous.
“You don’t ever get the urge, to, uh…” Reon began, looking quite like he would rather be raked over hot coals than have this conversation.
“Jerk off!” Tendou finished for him, his snorts finally having subsided.
“Oh,” said Wakatoshi, mulling this over. He has occasionally awoken with an erection, but an icy shower was always enough to stifle this particular…urge, and Wakatoshi said so to his friends.
“That’s unacceptable,” Tendou declared, and promptly began telling him about a boy, or a man, who did…something…on camera, and was apparently so unbelievably hot and sexy (Tendou’s words, not Wakatoshi’s) that he could give a statue a hard-on.
So. This brought us back to Wakatoshi’s current predicament – having emailed the text message link to himself to he can access it on his laptop (with headphones plugged in), he sat at his desk, home alone, with the door locked.
As the video buffered, Wakatoshi wondered what this ultra-sensual performance was going to be like. To prepare himself ahead of time, Wakatoshi had done his research and watched a few pornographically-inclined videos. They were mostly between a man and a woman, the latter typically with very large breasts and sometimes wearing lacey scraps of clothing, that barely even managed to cause a stir in Wakatoshi’s pants. He watched one between a woman and a woman, which was better in terms of the enjoyment occurring between the actresses, at least, and one with two men, which had caused Wakatoshi to chub up a little, but nothing to write home about.
He wondered, fleetingly, if perhaps he was broken, if he was just the robot that everyone said he was.
Those thoughts flew away as the video began. It was a prerecorded video of a livestream, with the comments shown in real time on the left side of the screen, already flooding in as the recording began.
“Yaho, everyone,” came an achingly familiar voice, filtered through Wakatoshi’s earbuds. He nearly fell off his chair in shock.
The camera was tilted at an angle that showed not only Oikawa Tooru’s face, but also his bare, smooth chest, which glinted a little, like he had been rubbed down with oil. “Welcome, new viewers, and welcome back to those who have been here before,” he winked at the camera, which conveniently gave Wakatoshi the illusion that Oikawa Tooru was winking directly at him. His mouth went dry.
“Now that it’s summer break, I have a lot of spare time to spend with you all, my darling fans,” Oikawa was saying. A glance at the video’s publishing date indeed confirmed that this video had been recorded just last week. “I managed to save up over the year, and I bought myself a brand-new toy! Would you all like to see it!”
Wakatoshi, unconsciously, mouthed, yes, as comments flooded in in agreement. “Alright, I won’t tease you all for much longer,” Oikawa said, and leaned away a little, grabbing at something. When he righted himself, he was holding – Wakatoshi’s breath caught – a long, bulky-looking, black thing. The comments went crazy, but Oikawa just laughed, running a hand over the surface of the object. For the life of him, Wakatoshi couldn’t figure out what it was.
“I got her just last week,” Oikawa bragged, “Comes with a remote control and everything!” He held up an oval-shaped object. Wakatoshi could just make out some of the buttons on it.
Evidently, Oikawa was done showing off his new toy, whatever it was. He said something about getting warmed up, a hand trailing down his chest. He shifted back on the bed (Wakatoshi noticed, for the first time, that he was on a rather large futon with small fairy lights twinkling behind him), settling into a kneeling position with his thighs spread wide. He wore nothing except a pair of very tight, gray briefs, with the outline of his cock already straining the front. He dropped his hand to the bulge, and Wakatoshi did the same, his palm landing roughly in his lap.
Somehow, without even really doing much of anything, Oikawa was causing lust to churn and simmer under the surface of Wakatoshi’s skin.
On the screen, Oikawa had dipped his hand under the waistband of his briefs, trying to bite his lip as soft gasps escaped his lush, pink mouth. There was a damp spot developing, both in Oikawa’s pants and in Wakatoshi’s own. Without pausing the video or tearing his eyes off the screen, Wakatoshi hovered a little from his desk chair and managed to shove his sweatpants down past his hips. At the same time, Oikawa gave a moan that reverberated in Wakatoshi’s headphones. Oikawa had already shed his underclothes, leaving him completely exposed. His dick was flushed red and leaking already, and Wakatoshi could see the faint trembling of Oikawa’s muscles as he stroked himself a few times, pinching a nipple with his free hand. Little huffs and gasps – “hah, hah, hah,” – dribbled from Oikawa’s lips.
Finally, Oikawa stopped teasing himself, reaching to grab a clear plastic bottle from somewhere in the sheets, and turning over, presenting his naked ass to the camera. Wakatoshi inhaled sharply, drinking in the sight of creamy, smooth skin (he must have gotten rid of the hair professionally, Wakatoshi decided), a tantalizingly round bottom perched on top of corded hamstrings.
“I have to prepare myself,” Oikawa explained to his audience, one hand reaching back to pull at one ass cheek, revealing the hint of his hole, buried beneath the flesh. Clear lubricant dripped from the fingers of his other hand, and finally, Oikawa sunk one finger in smoothly, all the way to the knuckle.
Wakatoshi felt like he couldn’t get enough air. He wondered, briefly, if there was something the matter with his respiratory system. His face burned, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the vision on his laptop.
In the video, Oikawa was moaning as he slowly slid his index finger in and out of himself. The microphone had been able to pick up the soft squelching sounds of the lewd act, and the noises filled Wakatoshi’s ears, echoing in his head. Oikawa groaned out, “I’ll work myself up to three, I think, today,” and Wakatoshi stared. Two more fingers? How…?
The answer was brought forth quickly: with a lot more lube and more moaning, Oikawa worked the second finger into himself. His free hand had dropped to the sheets, and Wakatoshi could just see the peek of the flushed, dripping cockhead as Oikawa worked his hand over it, his chest smashed into the sheets. Wakatoshi, without tearing his attention away, had also managed to pull his own dick out of his boxers. Without his realizing, his own cock had stiffened, precum bubbling out of the slit. Wakatoshi stroked himself once and winced. He pulled his hand away, spit in his palm, and commenced rubbing his dick to Oikawa Tooru.
“I-I’ve always been flex-flexible,” Oikawa forced out, the pad of his third finger now nudging at his hole. At some point, he had withdrawn his hand to squirt more lube on it, and the backs of his thighs gleamed with it and sweat. Wakatoshi wanted to lick the wetness, no matter the taste, following the path to where Oikawa’s fingers were steadily fucking in and out of…Where had that thought come from? Wakatoshi shuddered, running his thumb over the tip of his wet cock.
Oikawa had wormed in a third finger, the tendons in his hand flexing. His head was dropped to the pillow (or, onto what Wakatoshi assumed was a pillow – Oikawa’s body blocked the view of his head and face, which was a shame), and muffled moans and whines came flowing out. “If I keep go – hnng – going, this livestream will end way too early,” Oikawa whimpered, pulling his fingers out, much to the disappoint of many commenters. His reddened hole gaped a little, dribbling lube. Wakatoshi’s hand paused from where he was jerking his shaft, leaning forward in fascination as Oikawa reached off-camera, pulling the toy towards him. He sat up, steading the base of the toy somewhat firmly onto the bed, and raised himself over it. Wakatoshi could see his thighs shaking with the effort – the same thighs he had seen covered in sweat and bruises from diving to the hardwood gym floor to receive a ball. Wakatoshi had trouble reconciling the two aspects of Oikawa in his head – a bitter but talented setter and captain of a losing team and this needy, gorgeous thing that was currently sinking, bit by bit, onto the thick black toy.
Wakatoshi brought his full attention back to the screen. He barely blinked, not wanting to miss a single second of the sight.
Oikawa paused from trying to stuff the toy inside himself, gasping for breath. “It’s…so good,” he whined out, sinking down another inch. Though it seemed to be slow going, already his hole had managed to swallow about half the length of the thing, and Wakatoshi could see lube trailing down the surface of the vibrator. “I’m just gonna, ahh, s-sit on it,” Oikawa announced, and slowly slid until he was sitting flush with the base of the toy, head tipped back, gasping all the while.
The comments flooded in, and Wakatoshi took the time to focus his eyes on the comment box for a moment, his chest heaving as he slowly worked his achingly hard cock.
Dickluver69: fuck i just nutted thx babe
suckmyvolleyballs: where is that toy from. asking for a friend
sunshineboy: wowowghjhjfgthhgkagnfgjfh
blackcat1: damn I wish someone would sit on my dick like that :/ heart been broke so many times
On the screen, Oikawa shakily raised himself up on his knees, his hole clinging to the toy. Wakatoshi drew in a sharp breath, his grip tightening unconsciously on his hard-on as Oikawa keened and dropped himself back onto the vibrator.
“It feels so good, and this isn’t even the best part,” Oikawa panted, lifting himself up again, more of the plastic thing being revealed, dripping with lube. Wakatoshi made himself a mental note to acquire some of this substance for…future reference. The camboy opened one of his fists to reveal the small remote nestled in his palm. His forehead was beading with perspiration. “What do you think, everyone?” he managed to tease the audience. “Should I do it?”
Wakatoshi didn’t need to look at the comments to know that every viewer’s answer was a resounding YES.
Time seem to slow down as Oikawa’s fingers landed on one of the buttons of the remote. Instantly, his shoulders stiffened, and his teeth sunk into his lower lip to suppress a sound. Wakatoshi gave a choked groan, precum drooling out of the head of his cock and onto his fist as he watched. The buzz of the toy was loud enough for even the microphone to pick up, but the sounds were quickly drowned out by Oikawa’s own noises – choked gasps and moans, his lips trembling and eyes rolling back as the vibrator stimulated him. His fingers shook as he upped the vibrations, arching his back like he had been electrocuted.
Unbidden, a vision floated to the front of Wakatoshi’s mind – Oikawa riding him like that, making those cute little noises as he bounces on Wakatoshi’s thick, leaking cock, with Wakatoshi’s calloused fingers leaving bruises on Oikawa’s slim hips.
“I’m not – I’m not going to last, haaah, very long,” Oikawa admitted, his fists clenched in the sheets, remote forgotten.
Wakatoshi wasn’t either. The hand he had gripping his dick increased in speed. Wakatoshi’s other fist came up to his mouth, his teeth sinking into the meat of his index finger to muffle the sounds, deep and guttural, that pouring out of his throat. Oikawa gave a high-pitched moan, and Wakatoshi looked at his laptop, entranced, to see that Oikawa had managed to shift onto his back, feet flat on the bed with his legs spread, exposing his asshole wrapped around the thick, merciless toy. One of his hands drifted to the vibrator, and he tugged on the base, inches of the buzzing toy being exposed before Oikawa shoved it deep inside of him, with a sound that Wakatoshi could only describe as a howl.
Wakatoshi had to grip the base of his cock to keep himself from spurting then and there. He wanted to last – wanted to come with Oikawa.
Luckily, he didn’t have to stave off his orgasm for very much longer. Oikawa’s shaking fingers reached for the remote, and he punched one of the buttons several times. In the same moment as the vibrations increased, Oikawa tugged the toy out of him before slamming it back inside his ass. His flushed purple cock released thick white ropes as Oikawa came with a scream. Wakatoshi pumped his own dick furiously and was soon coming as well with several deep grunts. He slumped in his desk chair, reaching for the tissues, and neatly wiped his hands and softening cock. On the screen, the livestream was still running. Oikawa had pulled the toy out of himself and was now thanking his audience for their support and donations. He was panting and sweating, curls of his soft brown hair pasted to his forehead. Still, Oikawa managed a genuine smile as he waved goodbye and shut off the camera.
The livestream ended, leaving Wakatoshi’s wide-eyed enamoration in full view, reflected off the now-black screen of his laptop.
He wondered what he was going to tell Tendou about all of this, when he'll inevitably ask.