Work Text:
“We shouldn’t.”
Atsumu’s words are breathless and paired with dark eyes, his hands gripping the edge of the large printer he’s backed up against. Kiyoomi is ravenous for him.
“Say the word and I’ll stop.”
Atsumu says nothing, doesn’t move from where Kiyoomi has him pinned. It’s the end of the work day and only a handful of people are still in the building, the printer room dark and abandoned. The risk of someone discovering them is minimal, and Kiyoomi’s blood has been running hot all day.
He tests the waters by lowering his head and licking a slow stripe up Atsumu’s neck, ending with a nibble at his ear. Atsumu gasps, his hips jumping against Kiyoomi’s. He feels Atsumu’s arousal, hot and heavy and unmistakable even through his suit slacks. Their hips press together and slowly grind, pulling soft groans of pleasure from them both. Kiyoomi bites at Atsumu’s neck to muffle his own sounds
“Are you sure you want to stop? You’re so hard for me.”
Atsumu throws his head back and curses quietly, hands finding Kiyoomi’s hips and pulling him even closer. Their cocks slot together through the fabric and they move together on instinct.
“Omi, fuck, fuck-”
“Can’t fuck you here,” Kiyoomi whispers into his ear with a teasing smirk, gripping the tempting meat of Atsumu’s ass and wishing his cock was between those cheeks. “You’d never be able to keep quiet, baby.”
“Oh my god, would ya shut- mmh!”
Kiyoomi kisses him and it’s deep and messy, swallowing Atsumu’s moan while letting their hips settle into a familiar rhythm. Kiyoomi loves taking Atsumu apart when they’re both still fully clothed, especially in their work suits. Something about the image of crisp professionalism being tossed to the wayside as Atsumu shatters and comes under him makes him absolutely feral with want.
“Been thinking about you all day,” Kiyoomi groans, using his grip on Atsumu’s ass to bring them impossibly closer together. Atsumu’s hands tighten on his hips and a broken moan rumbles in his chest. “Need to make you come, need to see it, baby.”
“Ya feel so fuckin’ good,” Atsumu groans, hips stuttering as Kiyoomi’s thumb finds a nipple through the crisp white button-down. “Oh my god, faster, hurry Omi, faster-”
“Shh, baby,” Kiyoomi murmurs, desperately hoping that no one outside hears the rattling of the printer as he drives his hips harder. He’s not even sure he could stop if someone were to walk in, he’s so stupidly turned on. “I’ve got you, I’ll make you feel good.”
“I need’ta come,” Atsumu breathes into his mouth and then kisses him, sloppy and desperate, and the fire in Kiyoomi’s blood roars higher. “I need, I needja, ‘m so close.”
Kiyoomi is close as well, but he redirects all his focus to the movement of his hips and getting Atsumu there like he’s done so many times before. He’s so hard it hurts and seeing Atsumu unravel is certainly not helping, but he’s determined to hold on just a little longer.
“Harder, harder, Omi please-”
Atsumu’s voice is a quiet, broken whimper and Kiyoomi buries his face in his neck to muffle his desperate groan.
Need to make him come, need to see it, to hear it-
“Fuck me,” Atsumu sobs in his ear, clipped and cut off like he can barely breathe. “Fuck me Omi, fuck me, ‘m gonna-!”
Tap tap tap. Footsteps in the hallway.
Kiyoomi freezes and slaps a hand over Atsumu’s mouth to stop the whine of protest he’s sure is coming. Instead, what he gets is a stuttered gasp and then a firm, pulsing sensation down by his cock.
Kiyoomi tears his wide eyes away from the door and stares at Atsumu in the dim light. His eyes are damp and rolled back, and wet breaths hit Kiyoomi’s hand in a broken staccato as he watches Atsumu come. It seems to go on forever and Kiyoomi is entranced, the footsteps that passed them long forgotten. Atsumu’s hips jump against him, seeking the friction he was denied, and low whimpers slip from under Kiyoomi’s hand until his climax subsides.
Kiyoomi removes his hand and holds Atsumu up as he goes boneless, panting against his chest. Kiyoomi kisses the top of his head, trying to ignore the ache in his own cock because fuck that was so hot.
“Never knew you were so into the thrill of being caught,” Kiyoomi teases, his hands returning to Atsumu’s ass because he’s simply unable to resist it. “What if someone had walked in and seen you coming so good for me, hm? Bet they would’ve wished they were in my shoes.”
Atsumu huffs but then smirks, eyelids heavy as he turns around in Kiyoomi’s arms and bends over the printer. Kiyoomi’s gaze immediately falls to his ass and the way the dark slacks hug it so sinfully.
Beautiful.
“Stop talkin’ and use me already,” Atsumu says playfully, presenting himself like the hottest gift Kiyoomi has ever seen. “We don’t have all night, Omi.”
God, this man will be the death of him.
“Wish we were in my apartment right now,” Kiyoomi groans, leaning forward and settling his cock between Atsumu’s clothed cheeks. “The things I’d do to you, fuck. ”
“Oh yeah?” Atsumu sing-songs, pushing his ass back against Kiyoomi’s groin. “Tell me about them.”
“I’d strip you down, eat you out,” Kiyoomi pants, his hips settling into a fast rhythm once again as he imagines sinking into Atsumu’s perfect, waiting heat. “I’d make you come until you’re stupid with it.”
“Mmm fuck yes, and then what?”
“I’d fuck you nice and slow, because you’d be so overstimulated and sensitive. I love watching you twitch and squirm under me, baby.”
Atsumu groans, pressing his cheek into the printer as he looks back at Kiyoomi with his bottom lip between his teeth. The look in his eyes urges Kiyoomi to keep talking.
“But then you’d get impatient cause you’d get close, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d beg me so sweetly to go faster, to fuck you harder. I’d hold back until you were crying for me, begging to come again even though I’d already milked you dry on my fingers and tongue.”
“Yes,” Atsumu pants, driving his hips back faster and faster. “Fuck yes, fuck me…”
“And when I’d finally let you,” Kiyoomi says, breathless and almost delirious from how close he is. “You’d come so hard you’d milk it out of me as well. I’d let it all out inside you, would you like that baby?”
“Do it!” Atsumu suddenly cries, and Kiyoomi is so close to the edge he’s forgotten all about being quiet. “Fuck me, come in me, ah, fuck, Omi!”
Kiyoomi’s done for, and he has just enough presence of mind to bite Atsumu’s shoulder to muffle his desperate groans. He comes hard, pushing Atsumu further into the printer with each manic thrust of his hips, wishing his cock was buried inside that perfect ass instead of trapped in his boxers.
He barely has time to catch his breath before Atsumu turns around and steals what little breath he has left with a searing kiss. Their closeness makes no secret of the fact that Atsumu is rock hard again.
“Take me to yer place,” Atsumu pants, pupils wide and lips bitten red and raw. “And do everythin’ ya just said to me, god, please .”
Kiyoomi kisses him again, holding Atsumu’s face like it’s a treasure he wants to keep forever. The slight alarm bells in his head are drowned out by the overwhelming flood of desire.
It’ll be fine.
“Okay,” He says, grabbing Atsumu’s hand and quickly peeking outside the door before marching them both towards the exit. “You’re gonna need to call in sick tomorrow, though.”