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Bokuto Koutaro was a sleepwalker.
A sleepwalker who was impossible to wake up, as evident during many training camps when someone from Fukurodani would be assigned to follow him around to keep him out of trouble. (Akaashi. Akaashi was that someone, and Tsukishima and Kuroo would follow behind them, snickering at his exasperation.)
Bokuto Koutaro was also a cuddler.
If you were sitting next to him, he wouldn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you, to hold your hand when you were done gesturing. If you were sleeping anywhere in the same room, he would be glued to your side.
Tsukishima Kei knew these things.
He knew them, and yet, he didn’t imagine these two facts about the two-toned owl would combine into a deadly force.
It was discovered during a call with the aforementioned third gym gang that while the Jackal’s would be in a new city for a game, Tsukishima would also be there for his museum. Bokuto had insisted they meet up, Tsukishima had insisted he didn’t have time if he wanted to catch his train home, and Akaashi had volunteered for Tsukishima to crash with Bokuto that night instead. If it had been anyone else suggesting it, Tsukishima would’ve said no, but Akaashi was supposed to be the other logical one from the group. He was supposed to be able to trust him.
Tsukishima caved. He agreed to spend the night in the hotel room paid for by the Black Jackals and Bokuto rejoiced. Dinner with the team was as loud and noisy as ever, and Tsukishima was so looking forward to the bed in the room.
He should’ve taken the sign when the desk had confused Bokuto’s request for a single room for just that—a single room with one single bed. But he ignored it. Bokuto would’ve wound up in his bed anyway, seeking out Tsukishima’s warmth while half-asleep. He should’ve protested more when a mishap with the shower ended with Tsukishima’s pajamas soaked, but he dutifully took the offered shirt and slid it on. Bokuto was large enough, it skimmed his thighs scandalously but it was just to sleep in.
He had just closed his eyes when he felt Bokuto’s body encasing him, arm thrown around him, chest pressed directly against Tsukishima’s back. He could spend one night being the little spoon, this was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
Until Tsukishima woke up, unbearably hot. He was disoriented at first. It was almost pitch black in the room, and he had no idea what time it was. For a second he thought that he would have to pry himself from Bokuto’s grip so he could turn the heating unit off. Then it hit him. Or well, rubbed against him.
They had shifted in their sleep. Tsukishima was laying more on his stomach, with his right leg propped up at an angle. Bokuto was almost completely on top of him, and his hips were rocking at a slow but steady pace. The heat rose viciously to Tsukishima’s face, his skin burning as he realized that Bokuto wasn’t just rolling his hips, but he could feel what he would imagine was Bokuto’s cock rock-solid against him.
‘B-bokuto,’ he gasped, attempting to wiggle out of the other man’s grasp. It did the opposite, shifting them just right where the next roll of his hips had his length pressed directly into Tsukishima’s barely covered heat. He could feel how embarrassingly wet he was already, moaning at the feeling.
Bokuto’s left hand slid upwards, locking his fingers into Tsukishima’s hair, tilting his head to the side. He lets his face fall into the exposed crook of Tsukishima's neck, effectively pinning him down. His hips don’t stop, but his breathing is even. Tsukishima realizes with a growing horror that Bokuto is 100% asleep.
‘Bokuto, get up.’ He bucks his body as best as he can, but there’s no movement from Bokuto. Tears prick his eyes as heat pools in his stomach, shame spreading throughout every pore as he can feel himself starting to clench around nothing. Each glide of Bokuto’s cock gets slicker and slicker as the friction affects both of them. Then, Bokuto freezes.
‘Bokuto?’
Any hopes he had of Bokuto waking up are dashed when he grunts, head moving to rest on Tsukishima’s back as his left hand tugs at the waistband of Tsukishima’s boxer-briefs. He contemplates laying flat, refusing to move and let Bokuto strip him down, but the still sleeping Bokuto presses a soft kiss to Tsukishima’s back that has him raising his hips automatically.
When Bokuto pulls backwards, taking Tsukishima's underwear with him, he lets out a sigh of relief(disappointment?). Enough is enough, Bokuto’s about to move on to some other inane sleepwalking activity.
And then Tsukishima’s world turns on its head. He feels Bokuto’s warm breath first, on his bare slit, and then his arms go to his thighs, gripping around them and splitting Tsukishima open. Tsukishima can only cry out as Bokuto buries his face into Tsukishima’s dripping pussy.
‘Bo,’ he whines, arching his back into Bokuto’s tongue. It’s sloppy, clumsy even. Bokuto is still somehow not awake even as he slurps and licks his way into Tsukishima’s core. One of his hands starts to probe, fingers brushing almost painfully against Tsukishima’s swollen clit. Bokuto groans into him, and Tsukishima can just make out the sound of the bed squeaking. Knowing that even asleep, Bokuto’s grinding against the bed as he eats Tsukishima out has his entire body covered in goosebumps.
His chest is heaving by the time Bokuto decides it’s been enough, and he can’t stop the cry of disappointment when he detaches his mouth from Tsukishima. He had been so close. He doesn’t have to mourn long though. A glance over his shoulder and he can just make out Bokuto behind him, clumsily pulling off his own boxers.
Tsukishima moans at the sight of his cock, heavy with arousal and leaking. He should roll away, he should really move before Bokuto stops stroking himself, but he doesn’t. Face burning with embarrassment once again, he tilts his hips upwards as Bokuto grips his waist.
Frustration grows as each time Bokuto thrusts forward, his cock misses where Tsukishima wants him most. There’s no precision to his movements, not when he’s asleep. Tsukishima caves, submitting himself for eternal judgment as he reaches down between them, guiding Bokuto until he’s pushing inside Tsukishima. His hand falls away as he’s stretched to his limits by Bokuto’s dick.
It’s slow and off-tempo, but Bokuto’s sleepy groans behind him help bridge the gap to Tsukishima’s desire to cum. He’s lost all pretense of waking Bokuto up, instead he focuses on trying to meet Bokuto’s downward thrusts. Time slows to mean nothing as his climax builds so slowly, so sweetly, it’s overwhelming. He feels like a string pulled taut, ready to snap any second—and then Bokuto stops moving. He collapses on Tsukishima’s back, snoring softly.
His release ripped from him, Tsukishima cries out. It’s almost painful how quickly he drops back down. Curse Bokuto and curse his stupidly thick cock and his stupid sleepwalking, he thinks, chest heaving as he whines.
‘Tsukishima?’
Now it’s his turn to freeze. Clarity washes over him.
‘You were sleepwalking,’ he says, voice shaky and rough. ‘Couldn’t wake you up.’
‘Fuck, oh shit man.’ Bokuto jerks backwards, pulling himself completely out of Tsukishima. He can’t stop the pitiful whimper that falls from his mouth at the loss. ‘Did I hurt you? Shit.’
Tsukishima opens his mouth with the intention of reassuring Bokuto that he was fine, but what he finds himself blurting out instead will mortify him for the rest of his life. ‘Keep going, please.’
Bokuto falls silent. ‘Tsukishima?’ His voice is wary, but his hand falls back to Tsukishima’s waist, thumb brushing over it in circles.
His demand out in the open, Tsukishima decides to fuck the consequences. ‘Please, Koutaro,’ he begs. ‘I was so close. Don’t stop.’
‘ Oh. Oh, fuck. Okay.’ His weight settles back onto Tsukishima’s thighs, the tip of his cock brushing up against him. ‘Jesus, Tsukki, you’re soaked. You liked this?’
He nods, moaning. Bokuto sounds awestruck as he laughs, slowly easing himself back inside. He sinks an inch or two in before stopping.
‘I didn’t hear that, Kei. Did you like me holding you down and fucking you open that much?’
‘Yes,’ he cries, desperate. ‘Oh god, Koutaro.’
‘Ask me to fuck you. Ask me to get you off.’
‘Fuck me, get me off. Want you to use me, Koutaro,’ he sobs. He’s so far gone he thinks he would say anything Bokuto asked of him.
Finally, Bokuto bottoms out with a groan. Awake, his thrusts have precision and he keeps a steady pace as he fucks Tsukishima back to the edge. ‘You’re literally soaked, Kei,’ he groans. ‘Surprised the sound of it didn’t wake me up.’
It hits him twice. Once, the shame of Bokuto’s words ringing true, the wet sounds of their coupling filling the room. Twice, the way his gut had swooped dangerously low at the comment, knowing he was getting off even further on how much of a slut he was acting like.
‘Oh god—‘ he sobs, shaking, his orgasm just out of reach.
‘Bet you wanted this all night, bet you were thrilled to wear just my shirt to bed, yeah? Wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy, huh? Fuck, you’re so good for me, Kei.’
The degradation mixed with the immediate praise has him seeing white, his senses blurring as his climax storms through him. The clenching of his body on Bokuto’s cock is too much for him, and Tsukishima vaguely registers him pulling up Tsukishima’s shirt to shoot his release on Tsukishima’s back.
Bokuto collapses next to him, careful to avoid his own cum as he pulls Tsukishima closer to his chest. They’re both panting, breaths coming in short bursts as they calm down. Bokuto, king of stamina, recovers first.
‘Shit, Tsukki, that was like straight out of a porno or something.’
‘Shut up,’ he hisses. ‘Get me a towel for my back before I roll over and get it all over the sheets.’
‘What does it matter? You’ve soaked them anyway.’
Indignation replaces the calm he had from his climax, and Tsukishima swipes his hand through the mess on his back and swings it in Bokuto’s direction. He knows he hits some part of him as the owl shrieks.
That prompts him to get a towel, and after cleaning up properly, and pulling out a spare set of sheets from the dresser, Tsukishima finds himself once again curled in Bokuto’s arms. Sleep colors the edges of his vision as Bokuto starts to talk.
‘Really, Tsukki. Should we like talk about it or something?’
‘Probably,’ he replies, closing his eyes. ‘Not til the morning though. For now, sleep.’