Archive of Our Own ^beta

The sound of heated scuffling truly was the cherry on top of an un-fucking-believably nightmarish week.

Osamu was just poking his head out from behind the curtain sectioning off the back room of the restaurant when he sees it happen in slow motion.

A rowdy group of teenagers occupies the tabletop by the window- two of them are locked in a tussle, each attempting to headlock the other. Their friends quickly jump up and out of the way when the combatants thrash against the table, knocking it onto its side with a dramatic clash of plates and glasses shattering across the floor.

It would almost be comical how quickly the teens froze if Osamu hadn't already been mentally checked out for the day, the week- whatever.

Osamu stares them down while he approaches with a couple of brooms and a dustpan. He hands them over to the two that were fighting.

"Clean up and go home."

Maybe this was some sort of karma for all the twin-related damages he and Atsumu had incurred over the years, but again, he was too exhausted to think too much into it. All he has to do is close up for the night and he can finally rest for his day off tomorrow.

The kids do a passable job of cleaning up and they bow in apology before scurrying away from Onigiri Miya as fast as they can. Osamu flips over the Closed sign and locks the door behind them before doing a final sweep and clean of the dining area.

He's almost finished with clean up behind the counter when one of the fridges starts making that fucking noise that's been grating on him all day. He yanks open the door with dread when he realizes that ignoring it all day did not, in fact, solve the problem. The temperature reads almost a full 5 degrees less than it needs to be.

Osamu salvages what he can and reorganizes the ingredients to fit in his other prep fridges before he finally sits down at his desk to add 'fridge repair' to his ever-growing to-do list. He still hasn't made a dent in what is frankly a concerning amount of paperwork.

Before he can get started, however, all the wind is taken out of his sails when he spots the hands on the clock pointing past 10:30PM. Shit, he's been here almost 15 hours, again. His tired eyes slide right past the jumble of letters and numbers demanding his attention and instead settle onto a picture of Atsumu taken on Onigiri Miya's opening day, his chubby cheeks stuffed full of the very first onigiri that Osamu had ever sold.

Osamu fishes his phone out of his pocket and ignores all the missed notifications to make one very important call. A wildly unflattering contact photo of his twin fills the screen.

It's only now, as the dial tone sounds and Osamu stares ahead unblinkingly that he realizes how truly exhausted, hungry, and uncomfortably sweaty he is. The call is answered after the third ring.

"Oi, whaddaya want?" The background music is loud, but the piercing voice that rings through is louder. Osamu immediately yanks the phone away from his ear.

"Fuckin' hell, yer gonna bust my ear drums!" Osamu shouts back at the phone.

After a lot of shuffling and shouting and sounds of drunken applause, Atsumu seems to have retreated somewhere quiet.

"Samu, ya won't believe it, Omi-kun got so drunk at karaoke tonight that he's just been singin' his way through the entire BTS track list! It's fuckin' incredible! He's still goin' if ya wanna—"

Now, normally Osamu would prefer to handle his own problems rather than disrupt whatever bonding activity was going on with his meathead brother and his meathead teammates, but tonight he needs his brother more than they do.

"Tsumu, come make me ochazuke," Osamu demands before tacking on a meek, "if yer not too drunk."

He can hear Atsumu's sharp intake of breath. Over the years, what started as simply a shared comfort dish has morphed into somewhat of a cry for help; neither twin have deployed its usage very often, but whenever they do it's not to be taken lightly.

Atsumu's voice immediately sounds softer. "'M not drunk, I was playin' chauffeur tonight but those scrubs can find their own way home." The rustling noises in the background grew noisier once again. "Yer still at the shop aren'tcha?"

"Yeah," Osamu replies with a groan.

"I'll be right there. Gimme 15."

Osamu grunts affirmatively before the line goes silent. He does a final round of the restaurant, locking the doors and turning off the lights. He'll just have to come back tomorrow after all.

He plops himself down on the long bench along the storefront and waits. He's bone-tired but he already knows he won't be getting any sleep tonight. There are just too many things to do that keep buzzing around in his head. Maybe, if he's lucky, a good fuck will knock him out for a few hours.

Before long, Atsumu's obnoxiously red sports car pulls up in front of him and Osamu drags his lifeless body from the bench to the passenger seat.

"Ya look like shit," Atsumu says after giving him a once over.

"I feel like shit too," Osamu rests his head on the seat and closes his eyes for the remainder of the short ride back home.

It's all a bit of a blur really, but before he knows it, they're back at Osamu's apartment and Atsumu has just finished scrubbing him down in the shower while they wait on the rice to cook.

Atsumu is towelling him off when Osamu notices the small bundle of rope on the counter and sighs. "Tsumu, I don't have the energy for any o' yer kinky shit tonight, seriously," he says irritably.

"Hush, Samu, 'm just gonna tie yer arms, alright? Yer on strict no-work orders for the night, that means no cleanin', no cookin', no nothin'" Atsumu drawls as he snakes his arms around Osamu's middle and rests his chin on his shoulder to make eye contact through the mirror. "Let me do everythin', yeah?"

Osamu doesn't even have the energy to push back, which is reason enough to believe that his brother is right and he probably needs to fucking chill.

"Fine."

Atsumu plants a quick kiss on the side of Osamu's neck before he reaches forward to grab the rope. He tucks Osamu's arms neatly behind his back so his forearms are stacked one on top of the other before gently looping the rope around and securing his wrists and arms.

Atsumu drapes a cozy bathrobe over Osamu's shoulders, tying it up tightly around his waist and tucking the empty sleeves out of the way.

Osamu is led back to the kitchen and deposited in a chair where he watches Atsumu flit around the kitchen preparing the rest of the dish.

It takes Osamu an embarrassingly long time before he realizes he won't be able to feed himself with his arms tied up. By that point, Atsumu has the food on the table and is settling down in the chair next to him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Choo-choo! The train is leavin' the station, open up!"

"God, I hate ya" Osamu holds his mouth open begrudgingly, a true testament to how hungry he really is. His brother's ochazuke might just be one of the best thing's he's ever tasted, but he'd certainly never tell Atsumu that.

Atsumu feeds his brother attentively, occasionally holding the bowl up to give Osamu careful sips of broth and dabbing a napkin over his face whenever it's needed.

After the large bowl is emptied and Osamu feels like he's slowly returning to the land of the living, more food is suddenly pressed up against his lips and Osamu takes a bite. He hasn't a clue how Atsumu miraculously procured such delicious red bean mochi, so he just hums in satisfaction instead of thinking too hard about it.

"Ya feelin' any better now?" Atsumu asks, brushing Osamu's damp hair off his face.

"No, but less hungry," Osamu replies, just to be an ass.

"So fuckin' ungrateful!" Atsumu scoffs. "Lemme guess, ya probably want me to jack ya off and put ya to bed now, huh?"

"Finally, a good idea outta yer mouth."

Atsumu grabs a handful of Osamu's hair.

"I dunno what got yer panties in a bunch today, but i know ya didn't just call me for dinner and a shitty hand job."

Atsumu pulls roughly on Osamu's hair, dragging him to stand up and leading him to his bedroom before tossing him down on the bed.

"Here's how this is gonna go," Atsumu manhandles Osamu until he's seated and propped up against the headboard. "Yer gonna give yer last brain cell the night off and leave all the decisions to me."

Atsumu undresses himself and unties Osamu's bathrobe as he settles atop his brother's lap. He reaches over to grab the bottle of lube from the nightstand and drizzles some haphazardly over Osamu's quickly growing erection.

"Ya got that, Samu?" Atsumu asks, staring down at him with fiery eyes. He's grabbing onto Osamu's dick tightly and waiting for an answer.

Osamu worries that he's still too keyed up to achieve the right headspace for their play, but the idea of shutting off completely is tempting.

"Alright, 'm all yers," he decides, hoping he'll get properly in the mood soon.

The second the words leave his mouth, Atsumu's hand starts stroking him with featherlight touches that are soft and slippery.

"I need ya to stay still for me, can ya do that?"

Osamu nods.

Atsumu leans forward and grabs both their dicks in his hand for a few pumps while he kisses Osamu tenderly.

"That's a good boy," Atsumu says against his lips. "I'll do all the work so don't lift a fuckin' finger."

With a sinking feeling, Osamu realizes he already has an idea of what's going to happen before it does. Atsumu is bringing him too close to the edge too quickly for it to mean anything else.

Sure enough, just as Osamu feels that familiar wave of release about to crash over him, (he tries not to think about how embarrassingly fast it happens) Atsumu lets go and sits back with a smirk.

"Yer almost too easy today, Samu," Atsumu teases, squirting more lube into his hand. However, instead of returning his attention to Osamu, he's scooting up a little further on Osamu's lap.

Atsumu's hand disappears behind him while he leans forward to press their dicks up against each other- it's just enough sensation to keep Osamu rock hard but not enough friction to actually get him anywhere.

Osamu grits his teeth in horny frustration when he sees the face in front of him that indicates Atsumu is already feeling the stretch from fingering himself. He is not in the mood for a long edging session tonight.

Atsumu's other hand moves to Osamu's chest, squeezing a handful and kneading harshly while he rocks back and forth on his own fingers.

Osamu closes his eyes and tries his best to focus his mind on all the sensations. There's the pleasurable pain in his chest, the occasional drag over his nipple; his cock is so sensitive he tries to savour it whenever Atsumu's tip brushes against his own. He can't seem to tune out the low hum of the air con that underscores the breathy panting and filthy squelching sounds coming from Atsumu.

"Oi, eyes on me," Atsumu barks. "Are ya not enjoyin' the show?"

Osamu's eyes fly open when he feels a rough grip guiding his dick to the cleft of Atsumu's ass. He can't help the surprised gasp he lets out.

"Hah, seems ya like it just fine," Atsumu smirks while he grinds his ass along Osamu's shaft, teasing and circling against his entrance.

If Osamu weren't in such a bad mood he'd happily sit back and admire how fucking attractive Atsumu looks playing around with him, but as it stands, patience is not one of his virtues today.

When Atsumu has his cock pressed against his rim, tantalizingly close, Osamu breaks. He plants his feet firmly into the mattress and ruts up forcefully, pushing himself as far into Atsumu as he can muster from his current position.

Osamu knows this won't go unpunished, he fucking knows his brother's gonna be pissed, but that damned pornstar moan that escapes Atsumu's mouth has Osamu thrusting up like a madman, like he might die if he stops feeling the blissfully tight heat wrapped around him.

Far too soon Atsumu pulls away, scrambling off the bed entirely with deep ragged breaths and a livid expression.

"What the fuck, Samu?!" Atsumu yells as he stalks over to the dresser and rips open the sex toy drawer. He rifles around and grabs some cuffs and gets to work affixing Osamu's ankles to the bed frame. "Yer such a brat, I knew ya were gonna pull some shit like that!"

"If ya knew then why were ya bein' such a fuckin' tease, hah?!" Osamu can't help but argue back. Maybe whatever his punishment is will finally be enough to get him out of his damn head.

Once Atsumu has secured Osamu to the bed, he returns to the drawer and grabs a large vibrator and seats himself back up on Osamu's lap.

"I'll show ya what a real tease looks like, Samu, just fuckin' watch me," Atsumu says spitefully as he slathers the toy in lube.

Atsumu pins down Osamu's hips with his free hand and stares straight into his soul while he starts fucking himself with the toy. This time, Atsumu is careful not to let his bobbing cock anywhere close to Osamu's.

He looks straight back at Atsumu. "Thought ya were gonna take care of me tonight," he grits out in frustration. His gaze drifts down to his neglected cock, red and weeping, twitching pitifully into nothing.

Suddenly Atsumu's hand that was previously out of view flies forward and slaps Osamu's cock with all the power of a professional volleyball player— well, at least that's what it feels like.

Osamu yelps out in pain and scrunches his face, breathing roughly through his teeth as though it'll take away some of the sting.

"Thought I told ya to sit back and let me call the shots." Atsumu calmly resumes fucking himself, now with the vibration settings turned on. "If ya don't start listenin', the next one's comin' straight at yer balls."

Osamu is helpless to do anything other than watch as his brother fucks that stupid hot pink vibrator instead of him, but at least now he finally feels that delicious floaty feeling starting to settle in around the edges of his mind.

Atsumu really does put on a fucking phenomenal show. He's not even playing it up either, that's just how much of a natural he is. Lewd noises pour out of him as his lower abdominals flex rhythmically and his hips continue to roll- he must be getting close.

In a series of quick motions, Atsumu pulls out the vibrator, tosses it aside, and grabs hold of his cock to finish himself off with frantic strokes and a loud cry. Osamu watches with rapt attention as his own untouched erection gets painted white- the thick warmth slowly dribbling down his shaft feels sinfully indulgent.

Osamu decides that he's far too close to risk putting up a fight now, especially not when Atsumu looks like that on top of him. That level of sex appeal must be illegal, he thinks, as he sinks a little further into the haze.

He stares at Atsumu's beautifully flushed face as he waits patiently for him to catch his breath and deliver the next command. He continues to wait even after Atsumu's breathing has evened out and his blissed out smile morphs into a crooked one.

"Are ya waiting for somethin'?" Atsumu asks mischevously.

Osamu's head tilts slightly in question. "What's next, Tsumu?"

Atsumu's sharp laughter rings through the room. "Oh now ya wanna behave? Too little, too late, sweetheart. Weren't ya watchin'? I don't need yer cock anymore."

Cold dread grips the base of Osamu's spine. He continues staring wordlessly at his brother who's still resolutely seated in his lap. Surely he must be planning something?

"I know I told ya at least 3 times to stay still and watch me, but did ya listen?"

Osamu feels his face heat up with the knowledge that he failed such simple instructions. "No," he murmurs.

"That's right. Ya didn't. Ya know what's gonna happen now?" Atsumu asks, gently stroking his thumb back and forth across the soft skin of Osamu's hip.

The air feels thick as Osamu waits to hear what Atsumu is about to say.

"Come on, ask me what's gonna happen," Atsumu prompts.

"What?" Osamu barely chokes out.

Atsumu tightens his grasp around Osamu's love handle. "I'm gonna clean ya off, get ya ready for bed, and then I'll give ya yer hands back when I tuck ya in for the night."

Osamu releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Okay," he says softly. He figures it really could be much worse. At this point he's been hard for so long that he could probably cum on impact once Atsumu wipes him down, or maybe he'd even take pity on Osamu and let him rut up against his thights...

"And I'm gonna sit right here until ya get soft, so don't get any funny ideas," Atsumu says with a disgustingly sweet smile.

Now that definitely gets Osamu's attention. In an instant, all his anger and frustration from work, from the teasing, from the edging, all fizzles out into nothing. Has he really squandered his only opportunity for Atsumu's affection tonight?

There's no way his brother sacrificed his night out just so they could go to sleep without having resolved anything. He can't accept that.

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he stares longingly at Atsumu.

"Tsumu, I-" Osamu swallows thickly. "I can be good. Please?" He's not sure what he's even asking for but he desperately hopes that Atsumu will know what he needs. Atsumu always knows.

A hand comes up to gently wipe the tears off his cheek.

"Are ya finally ready to trust yer big brother now?"

Osamu nods his head earnestly.

"Ya promise to be on yer best behaviour?"

Osamu nods again.

"That's my good boy," Atsumu kisses his forehead and pats his cheek. "Now, get on yer knees for me, ass up."

Osamu shivers at the praise, Atsumu always knows just what to say to him. He awkwardly clambers into position. His visibility is limited from half of his face being squashed into the comforter, but he can see Atsumu sitting behind him and liberally coating their smallest dildo in lube.

"Now, don't think I've forgotten about earlier, just cause I'm givin' ya another chance."

Osamu jolts when he feels a cold dribble sliding down over his hole.

"Since yer greedy cock can't follow the rules, I'm not gonna touch it. If ya wanna cum tonight it'll be from yer ass only."

Osamu's legs are pushed further apart and then the skin-to-skin contact disappears. Suddenly the toy is teasing at his rim, sliding up, down, and around where he wants to feel it most.

Osamu whimpers at the sensation, arching his back and wiggling his hips greedily.

"I don't think ya've cum untouched before, have ya?" Atsumu asks while he pushes the dildo in, breaching Osamu's hole.

Osamu attempts to shake his head, but the movement is a bit too restricted.

"Use yer words, baby."

Osamu whines at the pet name. "No, hvn't," he slurs.

Atsumu hums as he fucks the toy deeper into him. "Mmm, ya know how much I love stealin' all yer firsts."

Osamu lets himself get a little lost in the attention while Atsumu continues stretching him out. It's starting to feel really good, but he mourns the loss of body contact. He just needs to show Atsumu how good he can be and maybe he'll touch him again.

"Are ya ready for more yet?" Atsumu asks.

"Tsumu, gimme more," Osamu groans, and trying to remember his manners he adds, "please."

"How can I say no when ya ask so nicely?"

He's pretty sure Atsumu is making fun of him but he can't find it in himself to care at the moment. He chances a look behind him when he hears the click of the lube bottle again, and to his horror he sees Atsumu slathering up yet another, larger, dildo.

"Tsumuuuuu," he whines.

"Shhh, just relax, Samu. This one feels real nice, promise."

Osamu feels an even bigger stretch than before as the new toy pushes its way inside him. It's not long before he's able to take it in easily and that's when he fully realizes how the curve of it aligns perfectly with his prostate.

Osamu moans wantonly, clenching his fists and feebly moving his hips to meet each thrust.

"See, told ya," Atsumu stops moving the toy, holding it stationary. "Show me what feels best."

Osamu looks over his shoulder for an indication of what he should be doing, only to be met with Atsumu's lovingly devoted but mischevous eyes.

"Jus' now, s'good," Osamu trips and stumbles over his words.

"Oh ya? What was I doin' just now? Ya gotta show me so I know."

Osamu whines again and buries his face in the blankets.

Atsumu leans down to speak lowly in his ear. "Move that pretty ass for me, Samu, I'll wait right here all night if I have to."

Osamu shudders and tries to play it off by readjusting his position and cautiously starting to arch his back and roll his hips.

With lots of encouragement, he once again finds the spot where the dildo presses into him deliciously and starts grinding on it unabashedly. Soon enough he's fucking the damn thing so hard that it must be getting difficult for Atsumu to hold it steady.

"Stop," Atsumu commands, "that's enough."

All of Osamu's movements immediately halt. He can feel how flushed his face is, how heavy his breaths are, and the drool trailing down his face. His heart is pounding in anticipation for what he hopes will happen next.

Atsumu reaches a hand down to Osamu's face, wiping off a string of drool with his thumb. "Ya've been so good for me, Samu, I think it's time for a reward, whaddaya think?"

Osamu's aching cock is twitching, seeking some sort of stimulation, and he whimpers when there's none to be found. "Tsumu, please."

Osamu almost wants to cry when he sees Atsumu repeating the same process with another dildo. This one he's suctioned to the floor, covered in lube, and arranged a plush folded towel just in front of it.

Atsumu helps lift Osamu's limp, pliant body off the bed and over to kneel down on the towel.

"Show me how well ya can ride it and ya'll get yer reward." Atsumu soothes him with a light kiss to the end of his nose.

There's no longer a single ounce of shame left in Osamu's mind. The only thoughts remaining are about pleasing Atsumu, about showing him how good he can be, and about finally getting that fucking reward.

He starts to sink down without any hesitation. The sounds he lets out are far too loud and unrestrained for how thin the walls are, but his neighbours can pack it up and go to hell for all he cares right now.

Osamu quickly maneuvers himself into the position that feels best and starts finding his rhythm. With every bounce he can feel his oversensitive cock slapping against his lower abdomen, sending him jolts of pain and pleasure that are indistinguishable from one another.

Osamu is lost adrift a sea of sensations when he abruptly feels warm lips press firmly against his own. Osamu's eyes fly open- were they closed?- and he takes in the otherworldly sight of Atsumu's sparkling eyes.

Atsumu grins and pulls back ever so slightly.

"Ya look so fuckin' gorgeous ridin' cock, here's yer reward."

All of a sudden the dildo starts vibrating inside of Osamu and he releases an unholy string of noises in surprise.

"It's got a lot of settings but yer gonna cum from this one, alright baby?" Atsumu clicks a button on the remote a few times before the vibration setting remains on a low rumbly pattern that is steady but not overwhelming. It's perfect— god, how does Atsumu always know?

Osamu can feel himself hurtling closer and closer towards release. His eyes slip shut again while he fucks himself silly. The burn of his legs and the comforting restriction of his arms only adds to the pleasure. He can practically feel Atsumu's lustful gaze settling over him like a weighted blanket.

"Samu, look at me," Atsumu's smooth, velvety voice breaks through the haze.

When Osamu opens his eyes, he sees that Atsumu has the waistband of his sweats tucked underneath his balls while he strokes himself purposefully.

Osamu stares indulgently. Atsumu's bulging pecs wobble a bit with his movements, the planes of his abs are tense and defined. Osamu's eyes follow along the happy trail that leads to ridiculously sharp V-lines framing a dense patch of hair. His thick cock is flushed red and the tip glistens with pre-cum.

Osamu feels the tears falling down his face before he processes the emotions behind them; he should be riding Atsumu, not this lame hunk of silicone. The realization hits forcefully that despite being stuffed full, he still feels so incredibly empty.

He's floating too far away and he needs Atsumu to ground him. Why isn't Atsumu touching him? Was he not being good enough? He's so close to orgasm and yet it’s not what he wants anymore, at least not like this.

Osamu lifts himself off the dildo with jelly legs that have lost their strength. He flops over onto the floor and curls into a ball.

"Tsumuuu," he starts bawling, the tears flowing uncontrollably. "I— 'm not—" He isn't sure of what he's trying to say between the choked sobs.

Atsumu is next to him immediately, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his side while the other works to untie the ropes. Once Osamu's arms are freed, Atsumu scoops him up with a grunt and moves them back onto the bed.

"Can't— I don't..." Osamu is still sobbing.

Atsumu spoons him, enveloping Osamu safely in his arms and pulling over an extra pillow for Osamu to hold onto. "'M right here, Samu, I gotcha."

They stay like that until Osamu's erratic breaths start to slow and match up with Atsumu's.

"Tell me what ya need," Atsumu murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the back of Osamu's neck.

Osamu sniffles a few times and clears his throat. "Don' let go."

"'M not gonna let go," Atsumu holds him tighter.

"Tell me ya love me."

"Ya already know I love ya more than anythin', Samu."

"Touch me."

Atsumu's hands trace reverently across Osamu's chest, his arms, his sides, his tummy, his hips, everywhere he can reach. Well, almost everywhere.

"Where do ya wanna be touched?"

Osamu wiggles his bum against Atsumu's erection in response.

Atsumu breathes out a quiet laugh. "Aw Samu, I didn't mean to give ya blue balls." He slides a hand over to Osamu's pelvis and is about to grab hold of his half-mast when Osamu slaps his hand away.

"No, I don' care 'bout that," Osamu slurs. "Jus' need ya inside me. Need ya close."

Atsumu doesn't even skip a beat before slipping off his sweatpants and sliding himself straight in to the hilt with an appreciative moan.

"What else does my baby need? Hmm?" Atsumu asks as he rocks back and forth leisurely.

Osamu sniffles again. "Why didn't ya wanna touch me?"

"I always wanna touch ya, dummy."

"Was I bad?"

Atsumu grabs hold of Osamu's tear-stained face and looks directly into his eyes.

"Yer absolutely fuckin' perfect, ya hear me? Ya know why I wasn't touchin' ya?"

Osamu looks at him with wide watery eyes.

"If we'd've just banged it out, ya would've still woken up stressed as fuck again tomorrow. S'not what ya needed." Atsumu looks down and starts to grope Osamu's chest while he continues explaining. "Ya needed a good cry and ya needed to get outta yer damn head. I bet ya didn't even realize that ya never asked me for a fuckin' thing all night. I knew ya weren't into it, but I couldn't get ya say anythin' until 5 minutes ago. I was tryin' everythin' I could think of to piss ya off but ya just kept takin' it."

Atsumu suckles a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on Osamu's neck and his wet lips move up to trace along the outer shell of his ear.

"I know ya better than anyone, Samu, but I ain't a mind reader. Ya gotta tell me when ya need help."

Tears spilled over Osamu's eyes again, but this time they were accompanied by an attempt at a smile that probably looked a lot more like an ugly grimace. "M'kay."

"Good. Now that's settled, I wanna hear every fuckin' thought that passes through yer mind tonight."

Atsumu grips Osamu's middle tightly as he thrusts himself in as deeply as he can go.

Osamu's so warm and safe in his twin's arms that he feels like he's melting into puddle of mush. He reaches back to grab Atsumu's hips and angles himself so that Atsumu's cockhead is rubbing exactly where he needs it to.

"Right here, Tsumu, fuck me right here," he pleads as he grinds back shamelessly.

Atsumu responds with a grunt and a sharp bite to the shoulder. He adjusts his grip and rolls them over just enough that his weight is pressing down on Osamu, increasing the pressure on that perfect spot deep inside.

The added friction pushing Osamu's dick against the mattress is exactly what he needs to get him wailing into the pillow that he's clutching against his face.

"Close, 'm so close," Osamu cries out.

"What else do ya need, baby?"

"Tell me how good I am."

"Jesus christ Samu, yer absolutely incredible, better than good, 'm the luckiest man in the world, it's like the gods made ya just for me," Atsumu babbles, but he says the words with such conviction that Osamu's chest clenches.

Finally, finally, the praise is enough to send Osamu over the edge and cums with a garbled shout. "Love ya, I love ya, Tsumu, love ya so much," he blurts out, his brain-to-mouth filter has all but disappeared.

Atsumu slows down his pace as he fucks Osamu through his orgasm, feverishly kissing and nibbling across the expanse of Osamu's neck and shoulders.

"Oh my god, yer so fuckin' hot, such a good bottom for me, I'd stay here forever if ya let me." Atsumu must be getting close with the way he's running his mouth.

"Then stay," Osamu grits out, grabbing tightly onto Atsumu's hips, digging his nails in to keep him in place. "Fill me up and fuck me again, I need ya."

Atsumu's gasps and his hips stutter as he blows his load. Osamu can feel the warmth of it and smiles with a deep satisfaction.

Osamu grabs one of Atsumu's hands, interlocking their fingers while he strokes up and down along where his cock is quickly filling out again. "Gimme another one," he barks out while Atsumu is still coming down from his high.

"I'll give ya whatever ya want," Atsumu promises breathlessly.

Osamu fully surrenders himself to the moment, letting all his innermost thoughts and desires pour out and basking in the attentive devotion of his brother from within the safe little bubble they've fabricated for the night.

He's not sure when he resurfaces again, only that his eyelids are still heavy. Sunlight is pouring in through the windows as he blearily reorients himself.

Osamu stretches his body, expecting to feel a lot stickier than he actually is. Atsumu must've cleaned him off and changed the sheets at some point. Looking around the room, there's no trace of any of last night's activities, in fact, his room hasn't been this immaculate in weeks.

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands up with another big stretch. His lower half is unsurprisingly sore, but overall his body feels tremendously lighter and more relaxed than it had been before. He dons a ratty old pair of shorts that fit a little too snugly before ambling out to the living room.

He looks around at the rest of his apartment and finds that everywhere else is just as spotlessly clean as his bedroom. His phone is nowhere to be found, but he can't find it in himself to be bothered about it.

When he sees the clock on the stove reads 5:43PM he does a double take. He's never even slept past noon before.

Instead of spiralling about the loss of his day off, he opens the fridge to assess the breakfast situation— or rather, the dinner situation— and it's just as dire as he remembers.

There's still some leftover rice from yesterday, so he decides to fry up the last two eggs and add a little bit of kimchi on the side.

While he's tending the stove, the front door opens and Osamu can hear his brother humming along to some generic pop song.

"Well, g'mornin', sleepin' beauty!" Atsumu rounds the corner and sidles up behind Osamu, snaking his arms around Osamu's middle and nuzzling into his neck. "How's my sweet lil' crybaby feelin' today?"

"Shut the fuck up," Osamu grumbles, halfheartedly swatting away Atsumu's arms. "What, 'm not allowed to cry? Yer whiny ass cries all the time."

Atsumu barks out a laugh as he unwraps himself from his brother. "I cry when I need to and move on! Much less lame than holdin' it all in 'til yer havin' a nuclear meltdown!"

Atsumu starts unpacking groceries from the bags he'd brought in.

"And yer fuckin' welcome, by the way, ya ungrateful bastard!"

"Ya, ya, it must've been real burdensome fuckin' me all night," Osamu claps back.

Atsumu squawks in offense. "Yer so much nicer when yer clingin' to me like a koala, tellin' me how much ya love yer Tsumu-nii~"

Osamu doesn't grace that with a response. He plates his food and plops down on the couch, wincing a little from his achy lower back.

Atsumu sits cross-legged on the couch next to him and opens up a familiar looking notebook.

"Oi! Whaddaya think yer doin' with that!?" Osamu moves to snatch the book out of Atsumu's hands but he's too slow.

Atsumu holds the book out of reach and slaps Osamu's hand away. "While yer lazy ass was sleepin' the day away, I was tryin' to make a dent in yer to-do list, thank ya very much! So lemme give ya the run down."

Osamu sputters in disbelief, he knows that book had been locked up in his office. "How'd ya even get yer filthy paws on-"

Atsumu cuts him off by shoving a hand over his mouth. "Yer part-timer's comin' in tomorrow so ya can do the books, I called the fridge guy and he already came 'n fixed it so I moved most of the shit back, I sorted out that stack of resumes and scheduled a couple interviews, Akaashi agreed to help out at the stand next weekend..."

As Atsumu trails on, that warm fuzzy feeling from last night settles back into Osamu's chest and all the fight melts out of him in a momentary truce. He puts down his half-eaten breakfast (dinner) and flings himself at his brother, wrapping his arms around tightly and smooshing his face against Atsumu's chest.

He can't bring himself to say anything vulnerable, since his actions and words bear heavier consequences in the light of day. He squeezes a little tighter and hopes all of his gratitude come across anyway.

Atsumu laughs loudly, a wonderfully affectionate sound, and returns the hug, smoothing a hand over Osamu's disheveled bedhead. He kisses the top of his head before whispering almost unintelligibly, "yer welcome."