NSFW SakuAtsu BANG! Kiyoomi slams a hand on the table. Cutlery and glasses cling a little but he's sitting alone apart from the couple on the other side who are deep in their conversation so no one pays attention to him, really. Nor to what's happening under the tablecloth.
It's a gala, a charity held tonight for a fancy cause. No one would crawl on the floor to look at what's happening under the tables. So no one is likely to find Atsumu sitting on his knees on the marble floor... Between Kiyoomi's legs. The adrenaline from when he dived under is
still running pretty high but his heartbeat is slowing down now that he's settling there. It's not bold, it's right out stupid, but stupid never stopped Miya Atsumu and that's why he's now sitting there with a mouthful of Kiyoomi's cock. It's filling up nicely on his tongue.
He did cheat, working his lover up for a solid ten minutes through his slacks under the cloth while no one could see. Atsumu knows him by heart, it'll be fast and efficient. And he'll get a nice substitute to that bland custard sauce that was served for dessert with the cake.
A hand suddenly surges under the table and grips Atsumu's over Kiyoomi's thigh. Nails dig in his skin viciously, but do not try to push him away. It makes Atsumu grin through the spike of pain, jaw relaxing instead of tensing up. He wouldn't want to bite Kiyoomi, now, would he?
He's not sure Kiyoomi is past stabbing him with a fork if he throws teeth in his blowjob. But Atsumu would never. The man can pride himself of having a few talents and giving skillful blowjob is one of them. His lover is aware of that. He's aware of how Atsumu tamed his gag
reflex over the years they've been together and how he can swallow him entirely yet still move his tongue around the girth without drooling everywhere. Really, Kiyoomi shouldn't be so tensed. It's easy. Not a messy job. "Gnn," Atsumu barely bites back à moan, eyes rolling back.
/That is/ if Kiyoomi doesn't tug on Atsumu's hair. Atsumu can't help it. Everytime he does, it reminds him the way Kiyoomi starts fucking his mouth seconds later. But it usually happens at home, or in the showers of the locker room when they're sure to be alone. Not in public.
He taps repeatedly the side of his lover's thigh, insistantly. /Don't do that/, he hopes to convey when he can't speak. Kiyoomi tugs harder. Atsumu's jaw falls open a little more, allowing Kiyoomi's cock to slide further in. A miscalculation on both parts. That was a mistake.
But it's a little too late to go back. And it would be counterproductive. Kiyoomi is completely hard, the head of his head bumping the back of Atsumu's mouth. For sure if he rips himself off and somehow succeeds in crawling back out without finishing, Kiyoomi will murder him.
Atsumu takes the matter at hand, literally. He grips Kiyoomi's wrist to stop him from tugging harder or pushing him down his cock. He stops Kiyoomi from manhandling him like he does when they get carried away and it's Atsumu's worst punition for the stunt he pulled tonight.
He sighs, incidentally making Kiyoomi shiver, and gets to work. Again, it won't take long. But Atsumu decides to take short cuts. Yes, he can do without a mess, but he doesn't want to bother being meticulous now. He'll use the tablecloth to wipe his glistening chin if needs be.
And he'll need it, definitely. The delicate classical music filling the room as well as the lulling clamor of people's banter covers the way he gags over Kiyoomi's. The dirty squelching sounds that go with the drool slipping past his lips. And there's drool pooling everywhere.
At the back of his throat, on his tongue, between his parted knees... Mixing with precum and getting Atsumu's fingers sticky when he wraps them around the base of Kiyoomi's cock to jerk him off too. But that's nothing compared to when Kiyoomi cums down his throat a few minutes
later. Atsumu feels him squirm and try to close his legs but he half climbs on his lap to prevent him from doing so, squeezing himself between Kiyoomi's thighs and the underside of the table's top. Uncomfortable. And this way Atsumu has no other choice but to swallow it all.
He hears the rattle above him. Not so subtle, Omi-kun... Atsumu smirks and regrets it immediately, thick droplets dribbling past his tightly shut lips. But Kiyoomi's suit is white, no one will notice a little drop, will they? Atsumu sucks him high and dry. Revels in the noises
Kiyoomi produces. Atsumu pictures the way his nails rack over the thin cloth, how he bumps a knife on the way and it clings against his plate. Maybe he's trying to smile politely at the couple on the other side of the table and he looks like he has a stick up his ass? Don't
laugh, Atsumu thinks. Don't conjure stupid mental images like this. Kiyoomi's hips thrust up suddenly, fucking into Atsumu's mouth all the way when it shouldn't even be possible. Atsumu is stuck, takes it while his eyes burns with the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.
Then after one last spurt of cum that lands on Atsumu's tongue, Kiyoomi relaxes and subtly drops back in his chair. Atsumu pulls backs, clutching a hand over his mouth to muffle the light coughing fit that seizes him. His palm gets covered in sticky fluids instantly.
The melody changes, a beautiful ensemble of notes that resonates around the reception hall while Atsumu chokes on cum. The hand clamped over his skull goes pliant and glides down along Atsumu's temple then his cheek. A light caress? Atsumu relaxes, stops coughing to lean back
into the touch. But the moment he nuzzles into Kiyoomi's palm.. Tap, tap, tap. He gets a few short slaps on the cheek. Kiyoomi is /petting/ him. Like a good dog. Atsumu almost chokes against. The audacity! He moves to get out and bumps his head under the table like an idiot.
And gets a light kick in the knee for his trouble. Stay put, keep it silent, Kiyoomi means, as if he hasn't just ruined Atsumu's mouth. "There's a open bar for champagne?" Kiyoomi suddenly comments smoothly. His voice is a little uneven, rough around the edges, but it's
something only Atsumu would know. Fixating on that, Atsumu is startled when the couple sitting at their table suddenly scramble to their feet. It takes another twenty seconds for Kiyoomi to press the toe of his shoe into Atsumu's thigh. Atsumu snatches the tablecloth,
and brings the fabric to his lips to wipe his mouth before poking his head out. Kiyoomi leans in his sit slightly to steal a glance at Atsumu when he starts crawling from under the table. He looks around, left and right, and when he's certain no one's is interested in them,
Atsumu gets back on his chair at the speed of light. And pulls the fork he hid in the pocket of his fancy jacket 10 minutes ago before diving under the table to brandish it in the air. "Found it!" "There's literally no one here to listen to your clownish act." Atsumu snorts.
"Yer talking big, ar'n't ya?" Kiyoomi cocks an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. Atsumu slams an elbow on the table, invading his lover's space. "And what was that, hm? Givin' me little pats on the head. Just made ya cum in five minutes in front of everyone. Don't be too cocky."
"Eight. It was eight minutes. And you got a head start because not only you can't count, you're also a sore loser," Kiyoomi says, shifting in his seat to empty his glass of wine. Atsumu's jaw drop. And he hopes his breath doesn't smell of cum. It does, for sure. "Sore loser?"
Atsumu grabs the nearest glass of water and downs it before slamming it back down, atune to the melody around them. "Ya counted the minutes, and /I'm/ the sore loser? Omi-kun... C'm'on. I know ya like a good fight but that's plain ridiculous." Atsumu startles when Kiyoomi
suddenly mimics him and leans back until their noses almost brush. Atsumu doesn't regret drinking his glass of water now that they're breathing in each other's faces. "I do like a good fight when it's fair and square, Atsumu." A shiver. "All is fair in love and war, Omi."
"In love and war, uh?" Kiyoomi repeats, fiddling with the expensive cufflings of his sleeve. "You don't mind if I declare war, then, do you? You just started the hostilities. I think it's only... Fair." Another shiver. Atsumu's throat runs dry. "Yer talkin' big again, Omi-kun."
Kiyoomi smirks after long seconds of a stare off that make Atsumu feel like the room is far too hot. "We're going to find a quiet place and I'll make you talk big too. Scream big, even. You wouldn't say no to a good fight, would you, Atsumu?“ Atsumu /never/ says no. /fin ❤️
