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‘Touch yourself.’
It was spoken as a command, but Kuroo knew that Tsukishima knew it was more of a suggestion. Still, his boyfriend moved to comply, trailing his hand down the front of his shirt until he was cupping himself. Kuroo could barely breathe, not wanting to make any sudden movements in front of his skittish boyfriend.
Dating Tsukishima Kei was a challenge, but a good one. One that Kuroo thanked anyone who was listening every single day for. Navigating the more intimate side of their relationship was a constant give and take and flux and flow. He wasn’t complaining; he loved every single thing Tsukishima and him did.
It was more of a learning curve that he was adapting to. Tsukishima wasn’t his first boyfriend, wasn’t his first sexual partner even, but he was Tsukishima’s. That alone was a process. It took him 3 weeks and four days to convince Tsukishima that yes, he was sure he liked him romantically, and yes, he was willing to put up with Tsukishima’s quirks. (‘Issues,’ Tsukishima had corrected him. ‘My issues.’ Kuroo had silenced him quickly, stating the only issue was that Tsukishima felt like it was something to be put up with.)
‘Kuroo,’ Tsukishima squirmed, the blush on his face only partially from embarrassment.
Kuroo hummed, watching him with hungry eyes. ‘Just like that, baby. Does it feel good? Your hand?’
Tsukishima nodded, increasing the pressure on his obvious arousal. They were sitting across from each other on Kuroo’s bed. Tsukishima had claimed the side with the pillows and the headboard and was sitting with his legs bent at his knees, spread just enough that Kuroo had a clear view of him while still being just out of range for any accidental skin to skin contact.
(‘Is it the skin to skin you don’t like? Or the entire physical aspect?’ Kuroo had asked one day, when Tsukishima had given him a five minute timer on them holding hands as they watched a movie.
Tsukishima had chewed his lip, unconsciously twisting his fingers inside Kuroo’s grip. ‘Both. Neither. It varies. I don’t hate it, it’s just…too much sometimes.’
Kuroo could work with that.)
‘You look so good, Tsukki.’ Kuroo’s not lying. Even fully clothed there was something so debauched and attractive about him seeing Tsukishima’s body etched with pleasure. He wants to see him completely lost in it one day, craves being able to crack Tsukishima open until he’s melting in his touch. He wants to map every pore on Tsukishima’s body. He wants to give Tsukishima exactly what Tsukishima will take from him.
‘You too. Touch yourself too.’ He makes brief eye contact with Kuroo, before his gaze drops down to Kuroo’s own erection tenting his pants. Kuroo doesn’t need to be told twice. He mimics Tsukishima, lightly grasping himself through his gym shorts.
Tsukishima scowls, making Kuroo’s heart skip a beat. His cute, grumpy boyfriend.
‘Take your pants off, I want to see,’ he pouts.
‘Ah-ah. Not til you take yours off.’ It’s another suggestion phrased as a demand, waiting for the slightest rebuttal from Tsukishima to be dropped.
So far, in person, Tsukishima has stuck to being completely clothed or covered in a blanket when they do this. Kuroo watches his face instead, finding his pleasure in the furrow of Tsukishima’s brow deepening and deepening until it disappears completely as Tsukishima hits his crest. He watches the cords of Tsukishima’s arm muscles flexing, the glassiness that overtakes his eyes the closer he gets.
(There was once, when they were stuck in their respective cities, where Tsukishima had blushed bright red and offered to flip the camera. Kuroo had told him it was fine if he didn’t want to, that he could watch Kuroo but he didn’t have to reciprocate but Tsukishima shook his head.
‘No, I want you to see. But like don’t be weird about it. Or ever mention it again.’
That sight was burned into his brain, Tsukishima’s cock, pink and weeping, spilling over his nimble fingers.)
‘You’re so annoying,’ he clicks his tongue, tugging his joggers down until Kuroo’s graced with the most beautiful sight. It’s just as he remembered it, Tsukishima’s dick. Pretty, like everything else about him. Kuroo curses under his breath, sliding his own shorts down, careful to not jostle too close to Tsukishima.
‘You like it. You can call me annoying all you want, but you’ll cum first, pretty boy.’
‘Fuck off,’ Tsukishima curses, grasping himself around the base. Kuroo said he would move slowly, taking Tsukishima’s sensory issues into account. He never said that he wouldn’t play dirty.
He watches as Tsukishima starts to stroke himself, slowly, twisting his hand ever so slightly at the tip. He’s mesmerized, his own dick pulsing in his hand at the erotic sight. Tsukishima’s fingers dip lower with each stroke.
‘Two hands, beautiful. Play with your balls while you stroke yourself, I want to see it.’ Tsukishima stifles a moan, his eyes fluttering closed. It must be Kuroo’s lucky day though because for the third time in a row, he follows directions. One hand drops down, while the other keeps stroking.
‘Do you ah, do you have any lube?’
‘I could spit in your hand if you want?’ Kuroo offers. The look of disgust spreads so quickly on Tsukishima’s face, aimed directly at Kuroo. It’s almost enough to make Kuroo cum, and he shoves that weird kink down long enough to grab the requested bottle, setting it on his bedside table just in reach of Tsukishima.
Tsukishima smiles at him, grateful that Kuroo didn’t hand it directly to him. He coats himself before rolling it across the bed to Kuroo, resuming his actions.
Kuroo loses his ability to talk dirty then, too busy focusing on the wet squelch both of their hands were making, the room filling with Kuroo’s heavy breathing and Tsukishima’s tiny ‘ah’s’ of pleasure.
Up, twist, down. Up, twist, down.
Kuroo matched Tsukishima’s pace, twisting when he twists and digging his free hand into his thigh. When Tsukishima’s pace starts to falter, Kuroo’s brain kicks back on.
‘You look so fucking good, baby. So pretty and perfect for me. My baby.’
Tsukishima moans at the pet names, tossing his head back against the headboard. The flush from his face is spreading, peeking out of the worn out collar from Tsukishima’s oversized t-shirt, traveling down his body to his flushed cock. They make eye contact again; Tsukishima’s are half lidded with pleasure, searing as he stares at Kuroo.
Tsukishima breaks eye contact first, dropping his eyes further down. Kuroo sees the cues, Tsukishima’s about to reach his limit. He’s going to cum first and Kuroo will follow right after him.
Or well. So he thinks.
Tsukishima pulls a wild card on him, always keeping Kuroo guessing. He shifts, slowly and purposefully, pressing his sock clad foot against Kuroo’s ankle.
Like a Victorian seeing someone’s elbows for the first time, Kuroo cums immediately. Tsukishima laughs, but it’s broken with a moan of his own as he follows. Kuroo whines, slumping over, carefully leaving his ankle in place as Tsukishima’s body heat warms his heart as well as his ankle.
‘That’s no fair, Tsukki. You play dirty.’
‘And the pet names aren’t?’ He stands, tucking himself into his pants, probably soiling his underwear. Kuroo makes a note to start a load of laundry. He holds out his hand, covered in his own release, making a face. ‘Can I use your shower? And borrow some pants?’
‘Yeah. Hop in, I’ll wash my hands downstairs and then set some clothes on the sink in there, okay?’
Tsukishima nods, disappearing in light speed to the bathroom. Kuroo does as he stated, grabbing Tsukki’s pants and underwear and tossing them in the wash with his own as he sets the clean ones in the bathroom. Then, he moseys down to the living room and turns on the tv until Tsukishima joins him.
He’s in the middle of some pointless game show when his boyfriend plops into the seat next to him, holding out a water bottle for Kuroo. His entire hand covers the bottle, and Kuroo brushes his skin along the offered hand, taking the water bottle. He downs half of it in one go, kicking his feet on the coffee table.
Tsukishima snorts. ‘Your dad is going to kill you for putting your feet there.’ Tsukishima turns in his seat, carefully laying his once again sock clad feet in Kuroo’s lap. He wiggles his toes, a silent okay, and Kuroo takes it, massaging Tsukishima’s feet as they watch the show.
It’s simple, the small touches that Tsukishima opens up to him day by day, but it warms Kuroo’s heart just the same.