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Atsumu is hungry.
He can feel it swirling inside him, threatening to choke him and white his vision. He hasn’t let it get this bad since his early years when he was still stupid and reckless, not realizing his actions would eventually lead to dead partners in his bed, cold and drained out of their energy.
Since then Atsumu’s made sure he doesn’t go a week without feeding, making sure he’s filled enough to only leave his lovers slightly tired, an easy enough thing to recover from. Now though…
Music pounds in his ears, reverberating inside his skull. He’s sensitive, his hunger always sharpens his senses to a point where it’s painful, hearing and seeing and feeling too much. He groans and lifts a hand to grind his knuckled against his pounding temples.
He’s severely regretting attending Bokuto’s little party now, even if hours earlier he was having the time of his life, knocking back drinks he knows can’t get him drunk, grinding against a fae who would probably drop dead if Atsumu took even a little bit from him. They’re strong creatures, the fae, but against an incubus they’re helpless, their energy too quick to dim.
Atsumu likes having his fun, but he also prefers his partners alive and kicking. Aside from the ones that are already dead, that is, like... He scoffs and the plastic cup in his hand crinkles before he loosens his grip. Like Sakusa Kiyoomi, but Atsumu doesn’t want to think about him. Especially not when his chest feels like it’s caving in and his hands are trembling.
He needs to feed, shit. He quickly tries to think back to the last time he fed and almost groans with frustration. Fucking three weeks ago, when the cute, innocent looking barista with golden eyes wrote his number on Atsumu’s latte. Wasn’t so innocent when he fucked Atsumu on top of the counter that night, claws digging into his thighs and fur rising on his arms.
Three weeks. No wonder he’s starving. Atsumu was lucky that night, finding a werewolf to feed on. Their stamina is better than even Atsumu’s and he’s a sex demon. He doesn’t like calling himself that, but that’s what he is. The thing about werewolves though, is that they’ll fill you up and you won’t even realize a week has passed by and you need to feed again, even if you’re not hungry yet.
Suna likes to call incubi sloths because there’s a possibility of them starving to death even with a full stomach. Atsumu realizes that he is very much being a sloth right now. Not something he necessarily appreciates. He hopes Suna isn’t around right now, because he doesn’t think he’d ever let him live this down.
He slams his cup on the counter once he manages to reach Bokuto’s kitchen. There’s no escaping the deafening noise of thumping bass and raised voices. It didn’t feel as oppressive an hour ago when he was still blissfully ignorant of his growing hunger and fully enjoying the music.
He grips the counter and dips his head, trying to calm down and get rid of his fucking headache. There are people brushing against him, opening and slamming the fridge next to him, laughing in his ear. He grits his teeth and thanks God he’s not a violent creature or these people would’ve been dead already.
His knuckles whiten when a sharp jab of pain flares behind his eyes. A gasp escapes his mouth and he has to strain to keep himself upright. He’s going fast, faster than in a long time. He needs to feed in the next few hours if he wants to stay alive and he very much wants to.
“Fuck,” he groans quietly and blindly gropes the counter in front of him, hand landing on an opened beer bottle. He knows it’s beer because he can smell it, buried in a mixture of differing scents. He can also smell sweat and blood somewhere, the tangy metallic quality of it. Someone’s vomiting in the bathroom. He can both smell it and hear it, even though it should be impossible in the noise.
He has to figure out his shit soon before he pounces on an unsuspecting creature passing by. One thing he doesn’t like about his kind is the easy way they lose control. He’s killed people, before. Accidentally, but killed them all the same. He doesn’t want to be a mindless monster, bending to every whim of his nature without a second thought.
He can’t just feed on anyone. Faeries are out of the question, so are sirens if any of them happen to even be here. Two energy sucking creatures together is a bad idea for everyone involved. A werewolf would be ideal, so would…
Atsumu shakes his head and winces when it sends a pain shooting through his skull. Vampires are out of the question. Doesn’t matter they were the best possible match for incubi, because Atsumu refuses to fuck a vampire.
“-sumu?”
A hand lands on Atsumu’s shoulder and he jerks forward, hips crashing on the edge of the counter. He gets pulled back into reality, all noise re-entering his ears at once. The contact of a hand even through his shirt is unbearably hot. He turns around, keeps his grip so he doesn’t fall.
He’s met with the concerned eyes of his brother who dips his neck to try and catch his gaze. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, ya okay?”
“Yeah,” Atsumu forces out. He knows Osamu is speaking in a normal voice, but to Atsumu it grates. “I just… ‘m hungry.”
Osamu’s eyes sharpen and his grip on Atsumu’s shoulder tightens. “When’s the last time ya fed?”
Atsumu manages to shrug one shoulder. “Three weeks ago, give or take.”
“Atsumu!” his brother hisses out and Atsumu winces. “Are ya stupid? Ya can’t go that long, you’ll die.”
“Well, obviously I fuckin’ know that,” Atsumu snaps, but lets Osamu grab his upper arm and lead him away from the kitchen. All it does is switch the noise into different noise. The living room smells like urine, and Atsumu can’t discern whether someone’s pissed their pants or if his nose is already so sensitive he can smell people’s insides. He doesn’t know which is worse.
“Do ya now?” Osamu shoots back, yanking Atsumu out of someone’s way as they barrel through, leaving behind nothing but the smell of alcohol. “Because yer starvin’, ‘Tsumu. Why did ya let it get this bad?”
Atsumu groans and presses a cool hand to his eyes. “I took from a werewolf. Ya know how it is.”
Osamu cuts him a glance. “I don’t know how it is, I’m datin’ an elf. Ya know I am.”
“Whatever,” Atsumu rolls his eyes and follows his twin as he slides back the glass door to the terrace. A cool breeze hits his face and offers relief to the warmth on his skin. “I remember ya’ve shacked up with a werewolf before Suna. Where is he anyway?”
Osamu tugs Atsumu outside and closes the door behind him, shutting out most of the noise with it. “In the bathroom. I was meant to get drinks and then I saw ya in the kitchen. Did ya know ya smell?”
Atsumu raises a sluggish arm to his nose and sniffs. A strong, lemony scent catches his nose and he makes a face. “Didn’t realize. Did anyone else?”
Osamu looks annoyed. “Literally everyone within a hundred feet of ya. If I came a second after I did ya would’ve had a horde of horny drunkards at yer feet.”
Atsumu’s about to say something when a pang hits his stomach, an empty, hollow feeling inside like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, even though he ate a heavy breakfast that morning. It’s not the physical hunger that bothers him. He crumples in half, clutching his stomach with a groan.
His brother’s there immediately, a hand on his back. “’Tsumu? Shit, do ya have anyone to call?”
Atsumu tries to think through the pain. “Um. I deleted the werewolf’s number. Kita’s in a relationship. I’m not fuckin’ ya.”
“Gross, ‘Tsumu. What about that one girl? The wraith?”
Atsumu chuckles and presses a hand on his lower stomach, trying to absolve a cramp. “Goddamn, she was vicious. She scratched my back to hell and back. She was good, though. Too bad she moved to London.”
Osamu groans, annoyed, even though his hand keeps rubbing soothing circles into Atsumu’s lower back. “Jesus. Ya have no one, then?”
Atsumu shrugs and swallows back bile gathering in his throat. “I could go back and pick a… I don’t know, a ghoul or something. Or was Hinata there? Because I could go for another werewolf.”
“Nah,” his brother shakes his head. “He’s datin’ that tall vampire now, I think. Off limits.”
Atsumu scrunches his nose, disgusted. “Vampire? Ya mean Kageyama? Disgusting.”
“Him being a vampire or just Kageyama?” Osamu looks amused.
“Both,” Atsumu spits. “Fuckin’ shit, it hurts.”
He sinks to the ground slowly, Osamu going with him, supporting him. His brother looks thoughtful, a slight breeze ruffling his hair. “Ya know… There is Sakusa.”
Atsumu chokes out laughter. He knew Osamu was going to say it. “No way in hell. Keep that bloodsuckin’ asshole away from me.”
Osamu rolls his eyes and jostles Atsumu’s body slightly. “Yer dyin’ if ya didn’t realize. Think bein’ picky’s the last thing ya can afford right now.”
“I have standards even on death’s door,” Atsumu mutters and spits out a thick clump of bloody saliva on the ground. “He’s the last one I’ll allow to fuck me.”
“He used to be the first,” Osamu reminds him, as if he doesn’t already know. It was his relationship, for fuck’s sake. “And I know ya don’t hate him.”
“Oh, I hate him,” Atsumu tells him and struggles to his knees. “Ya know what they say. Don’t date vampires.”
“Who’s sayin’ that?” Osamu rolls his eyes again and allows Atsumu to rest against him. “Yer still a dumbass, I see. It’s pathetic, really, watchin’ ya deny yer own feelings.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Atsumu groans and tries to shove at his brother half-heartedly. “Fine. Call him. But only because I’m fuckin’ starvin’. He’s not gonna do it anyway.”
“Right, so ya think,” Osamu mutters and sticks his hand inside Atsumu’s pocket. He fishes out a phone and unlocks it nimbly. They’ve shared passwords since technology became a thing. Their phones aren’t an exception.
Atsumu presses his hot forehead against Osamu’s cool neck and sighs in relief. It helps a little bit, even if the burning in his stomach is only increasing. The faint sweat and musk on Osamu’s skin masks the growing scent Atsumu’s body’s letting out. Another one of his really fun quirks, he can let out an aphrodisiac whenever he wants to seduce someone into sleeping with him.
Obviously he never uses it intentionally, what with consent being a thing and all. He can’t help it pushing out during really good sex or when he’s starving, like right now, though. He’s glad other incubi or succubi can’t get affected by the scent because if his own brother tried to get in his pants, he might have to move across the country. There are lines even someone who literally lives on sex won’t cross.
He’s faintly aware of Osamu talking. He tunes in with great difficulty, focusing on the low voice of his brother.
“He’s bad,” he hears Osamu saying. “He’s about to go under, he hasn’t fed in weeks.”
Atsumu can hear the faint voice of someone on the other side. Osamu turns his eyes to Atsumu. A phone gets handed to him. Atsumu takes it with a questioning sound.
“He wants to hear ya consent,” Osamu informs him. “Before ya can’t.”
Atsumu presses his phone to his ear. “Hello there, Sakusa. How’s it goin’?”
“Cut it out,” Sakusa says roughly. Something rustles on the other side. “Why the fuck haven’t you been feeding?”
“Not ya too,” Atsumu whines. “I forgot, okay? I got railed so hard by a werewolf I wasn’t hungry anymore. That’s it.”
“Was it Hinata?” Sakusa asks after a brief pause.
“No,” Atsumu rolls his eyes. “I don’t even know his name. Fuckin’ Adam or somethin’. Who cares? Are ya really comin’?”
“If you want. Osamu said there was no one else.”
Atsumu exhales. “No, there isn’t. So I guess ya have to come if ya don’t want me to die.”
“Shut up,” Sakusa tells him. “I would’ve come anyway. Tell me you want it.”
“Are we startin’ already?” Atsumu purrs. Osamu makes a sound and curls his lip next to him in vague disgust. “Ya always were into talkin’ dirty, weren’t ya, Omi?”
He realizes his mistake too late. “Sakusa. Omi. Whatever.”
“Stop being difficult, Jesus Christ,” Sakusa huffs out. “You can do your defense mechanism thing later. Just tell me, so I can stop worrying about rape.”
Atsumu makes a face. “Yes, I want it. To an extent. Not ya, but yer energy. Don’t mistake the two.”
“Yeah,” Sakusa says, sounding distracted. “I’m coming. We’re coming back to my place.”
“Uh, no we’re not,” Atsumu interjects, scrunching his face. “Who said that?”
“I said that,” Sakusa tells him. “Unless you want your scent to attract everyone in your building. My staff is immune, you know that.”
Atsumu flushes with embarrassment and sinks further into his brother. It’s not Atsumu’s fault his scent gets unbearable when he orgasms, slithering under doors and pushing through cracks in the plaster. He’s set off other creatures before, he hears them behind the walls sometimes.
It drives his partners crazy too. They’re in the brunt of it, right next to him, inside or around him, his saliva down their throats. He feels bad sometimes, because who would want to basically get drugged with an aphrodisiac, but apparently according to everyone it feels good. Osamu always says they know what they’re getting into, hooking up with an incubus.
Sakusa’s a vampire so he’s harder to sway than other creatures, but he’s not exempt either. He’s also basically dead, which means Atsumu can drain whatever energy is lurking inside him and not have to worry about him dying again. They’re sexually compatible, which is why Atsumu isn’t too against him coming to help him feed. That’s the only reason.
“Shut up,” he mumbles. He can basically hear Sakusa’s grin, the sharp canines poking out. “Just come. I’m hungry.”
“Five minutes,” is all Sakusa says before the phone goes dead. Atsumu makes a face and offers the phone to his brother. Osamu gently pushes his hand back.
“It’s yer phone.”
“Oh. Right.” Atsumu pushes the phone in his back pocket with trembling hands. “I bet he’s gonna come in the red car.”
“Nah, it’s gonna be the black one. He hates red,” Osamu denies immediately.
“Which is why he’s gonna drive that one,” Atsumu huffs. “He’s weird like that. I would know.”
He would know. They didn’t date for thirty years, give or take, without learning everything about each other. The five years they’ve been apart is a fraction next to that, not long enough for them to change or forget.
Soon a red Porsche drives up to Bokuto’s house and Atsumu gives his brother a look. “Told ya.”
Osamu sticks his tongue out and rises to a crouch, helping Atsumu stand up by taking most of his body weight. A cramp immediately shoots across Atsumu’s stomach and he gasps. “Shit. I need sex, like right now. Seriously. We’re gonna do it in the car, I’m not makin’ it to his place.”
“Why do ya think I wanna hear that?” Osamu complains, pulling a face. “Ya wanna hear about how my scent makes Rin-“
Atsumu elbows Osamu’s cheek and cuts him off. “Shut up, ew. That’s gross.”
“Duh,” Osamu scoffs and nods forward. “He’s comin’.”
Atsumu’s eyes drift to Sakusa automatically. Their gazes lock and Atsumu can smell his scent spiking up aggressively, the smell of ripe lemons filling the air. Sakusa’s eyes flash red before they’re black again like they never turned.
Sakusa stops a few feet in front of them, scanning Atsumu up and down for the first time in a while, even if a couple years are next to nothing for them. Atsumu would do the same if he weren’t burning up, hunger threatening to spill over any moment now. He’s desperate.
He disentangles from his brother who lets him go easily, trusting Sakusa to take over. Atsumu stumbles to close the distance between them, to press up against Sakusa and get sweet relief from their connected bodies. He groans deep in his throat, his burning skin cooling slightly where it touches Sakusa’s eternally cold body.
Hesitant arms wrap around him. He feels the brush of sharp fangs over his ear. “You okay?”
Atsumu snorts. A haze is starting to set over him, the type that comes with being so close to someone’s energy after a long time of not feeding. He’s really not going to make it to Sakusa’s place. “No. But yer not here to make sure I’m okay, yer here to give me the best orgasm of my life. I need a lot this time.”
Hands push Atsumu away, holding him by the shoulders. He groans, tries to chase after the coolness, the sweet relief against his heated skin. Firm fingers come to hold his chin, jerking him up to meet Sakusa’s eyes. They’re dark, black like they usually are, but Atsumu can see the red flecks trying to fight to come up. “What?”
Sakusa shakes his head with an inaudible sigh, sliding a hand around Atsumu’s back and pushing him forward. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
Atsumu lets Sakusa lead him to the car, climbing in the backseat and trying to dispel the fuzz inside his brain. “You’ll give me my orgasms?”
Sakusa climbs in next to him, tapping the driver on the shoulder to get them moving. He gives Atsumu an inscrutable look while the car rumbles to life and departs from the curb. “Yeah, I’ll give you your orgasms. That’s what I’ve been doing for decades, isn’t it?”
Atsumu shifts uncomfortably. The leather of the seat presses against him through his clothes and he feels rubbed raw. His thoughts are nothing but sex, sex, sex at this point. Glancing at the driver, he curses Sakusa for not bringing a car with a little privacy with him.
“Yeah. And then ya didn’t. Take yer dick out.”
Sakusa raises his eyebrows but moves to unbuckle his belt with sure fingers. “Already, huh? How bad are you?”
“Bad enough,” Atsumu mutters and watches Sakusa’s zipper pull down, revealing black boxers underneath. He’s itching to touch, to taste. “I feel like my head’s about to explode. Remind me to never take too much from werewolves.”
Sakusa hums, pulling his cock out of his underwear without taking them off or even pulling them down. “You are an incubus. It’s in your nature.”
Atsumu scoffs and leans down over the seats until he’s on the same level with Sakusa’s rapidly hardening cock. “Yeah, and ya’ve always had a problem with that, haven’t ya? Hate me bein’ addicted to sex?”
He gathers enough saliva in his mouth to spit on Sakusa’s cock, using his hand to spread it. Sakusa twitches, a startled moan escaping him. Atsumu knows it’s hot, knows it feels good. It’s weird and he has no idea how because it never works on himself but experience tells using his spit as lube is guaranteed to get others out of their mind. Incubi things.
He slips the tip in his mouth and sucks gently, tongue swirling on the underside. Sakusa curses quietly above him and a hand curls in his hair, not pushing or holding him still, just gently touching. Warmth spreads through Atsumu and he shifts, feeling his own cock harden.
“Wouldn’t you hate if I was addicted to sex?” Sakusa rasps out just as a salty drop of precum hits Atsumu’s tongue.
He rolls his eyes, forcing Sakusa’s cock deeper in his throat. He pulls out with a pop, eyeing Sakusa’s slick cock. Looking into Sakusa’s eyes is too intimate, not unlike if they were lovers. “No. Because I would know I could satisfy ya, to be the one to help ya. I would trust ya.”
He moves back to take Sakusa’s length in his mouth, flattening his tongue to fit all of it. He doesn’t know why he’s bothering to argue about this, he should just focus on taking all of Sakusa’s energy so he can leave. He already feels a slow trickle of something warm traveling down the center of his chest to his stomach, in a few hours he should be back to normal.
Sakusa’s hips lift up slightly when Atsumu swallows around his cock. “When your boyfriend seems to want you for nothing other than fucking, it starts to get annoying. It has nothing to do with trust.”
Atsumu’s eyebrows scrunch and he tries to protest, except the dick in his mouth allows for nothing but a garbled mumble. Sakusa gasps and his fingers in his tighten. “Do that again.”
Fuck that. Atsumu lets his teeth scrape against the fragile skin when he pulls away, Sakusa’s pained hiss like music to his ears. He finally looks up, Sakusa’s red eyes staring back. One of his fangs is digging into his lower lip, almost drawing blood.
“Ya literally thought I would cheat! How is that not about trust?”
It’s Sakusa’s time to roll his eyes. “Well, forgive me. Incubi aren’t necessarily known for their faithfulness. Not when they’re constantly hungry and the world is their buffet.”
“Oh, and ya thought it’s okay to generalize an entire race? Yer own boyfriend, no less? Quite hypocritical of ya when ya hate bein’ called a killer.”
Sakusa’s eyes flash. “I’m not a killer.”
Atsumu groans, headache coming in full force against his temples. “Yes, and I know that! Because I know ya and I thought ya would know me after thirty fuckin’ years, but apparently not.”
He glances at the driver who’s keeping his eyes very carefully on the road, his pointed ears bright red. He clicks his tongue. “Whatever. I didn’t come here to settle old grievances, I’m here to feed. Shut up and let me suck yer dick, my head hurts.”
He doesn’t let Sakusa answer, instead catches his hard dick in his mouth and forces his head as down as it goes. He doesn’t have a gag reflex, something that comes handy in situations like this.
He lets his mind go quiet, shuts out the outer world as he focuses on the feeling of something hot and heavy on his tongue. He briefly considers staying like this the entire night, letting his energy gather that way. It’s not the first time he’s cock warmed Sakusa when he’s working on other stuff, too busy or tired to properly entertain his urges.
He distantly feels a hand settle on his cheek, cold to the touch but still somehow spreading warmth. Sakusa might be a dick, but Atsumu trusts him to take care of him while he does his thing. He’s never really been this bad while he still had Sakusa to feed on whenever he wanted, but he’s still familiar enough to know what’s happening.
Atsumu doesn’t know how long he stays there, lazily sucking on Sakusa’s cock and letting the warmth in his chest spread. It doesn’t do much to make him feel better yet, but at least his senses are dulling.
There’s someone tugging at his hair, trying to pull him off. He goes easily, blinking blearily at his surroundings. Sakusa swipes a thumb over the corner of Atsumu’s mouth, wiping off the spit that’s gathered there, tucking his dick back in with his other hand. He’s still hard, hasn’t yet cum. “We’re here. Can you walk?”
“Obviously,” Atsumu croaks out and turns to push his door open. He doesn’t need Sakusa to carry him like a damsel in distress, a little hunger doesn’t make him incapable of walking.
He stumbles around the car to latch back onto Sakusa who catches him by the waist. Atsumu doesn’t waste time putting his mouth on Sakusa’s neck, sucking the pale skin between his lips. It’s always disconcerting, the coldness of his body and the lack of pulse he instinctively tries to find. He’s had time to get used to it, though.
Sakusa allows him to suck his neck, pushing him backwards to keep walking. It’s clumsy, Atsumu too busy licking the teeth marks he’s left on Sakusa’s skin to focus on his steps, but somehow they make it to Sakusa’s door. The driver from earlier rushes past them to open the door and Sakusa tells him a polite thank you as they stumble inside.
“Can you just walk properly?” Sakusa asks him, trying to direct him to the stairs. “Or let me carry you, this is taking forever.”
“Ya have a living room right there,” Atsumu mutters against his neck. “And a carpet right here. I don’t need yer fancy bedrooms.”
Sakusa sighs and pats Atsumu’s ass when his heel knocks against something. “Leg up, there’s a stair. And my staff is home, so unless you want to give them all a show I suggest you get moving.”
Atsumu bites him in retaliation but lifts his feet to climb backwards. Sucking dick in front of a driver is one thing, but marathon sex in front of everyone is another.
Sakusa’s neck is littered with bites by the time Atsumu gets pushed on a soft bed in one of Sakusa’s many bedrooms. His eyes haven’t turned black since the first time Atsumu took his cock in his mouth and Atsumu would feel smug about it if he weren’t even more desperate.
Sakusa drops to his knees over Atsumu and bends over to nibble on his earlobe, teeth catching onto the hoops sitting side by side. “Who’s topping?”
Atsumu hums, lets the pleasant buzz of Sakusa’s fangs over his skin set in. He feels brighter by the minute, Sakusa’s energy filling him. “You are. I’ll do it later.”
He can feel Sakusa’s huff of breath in his ear. “Still lazy as ever.”
“Ya had thirty years to get used to it, babe,” Atsumu responds. Sakusa nips at his ear before reaching for his nightstand, pulling out lube. His hand hesitates for a moment.
“Have you been getting tested? Or… or using condoms?”
Atsumu rolls his head to the side to watch Sakusa’s face. It’s still, mouth in a straight line. “I’m clean, I get tested regularly. Ya don’t need to use condoms if ya don’t want.”
Sakusa nods, leaving the condoms in the drawer. He takes his place between Atsumu’s legs and drops the lube on the bed. “Like this?”
“Mhm. And then in every other way after. I told ya I’m hungry.”
Sakusa unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down his thighs, hooking his thumbs inside the waistband of his boxers so he can pull them both off at the same time. Atsumu doesn’t lift a finger to help him, just closes his eyes when he feels air hit his bare legs. His socks get pulled off soon after.
“Mind taking your shirt off?” Sakusa asks, running his hands over Atsumu’s legs.
Atsumu opens his eyes to glare at him. “Yer supposed to pamper me, O-“
He clears his throat. Sakusa’s eyebrow raises. “Sakusa. Or Kiyoomi. Stop lookin’ at me.”
Sakusa bends down to brush their lips together, a teasing pressure. A pang of hunger hits Atsumu and he lifts his chin to try and press their lips together. Sakusa pushes back, forcing Atsumu’s head back down. His fangs pierce Atsumu’s bottom lip without warning, causing hot blood to bubble up.
Atsumu yelps, eyes shooting open only to see Sakusa already staring back. A tongue swipes gently across his lip and Atsumu’s eyes flutter close with a sigh as the sting soothes down to pleasure, sending sparks down his spine.
“You can call me Omi,” Sakusa murmurs against his lips. “Hasn’t stopped you before.”
“Yeah,” Atsumu exhales, wrapping his arms around Sakusa’s neck. “Omi.”
Sakusa’s eyes flicker to black for a moment before he takes a breath and they go back to red. “That’s it. You’re doing good.”
Atsumu’s breath rattles in his chest at the praise. He lifts his legs to wrap them around Sakusa’s hips, pushing him down with his heels. They both groan when their hips meet, even if Sakusa is still fully clothed.
“Take them off,” Atsumu whispers and rolls his hips. The rough material of Sakusa’s slacks burns, but in the best way possible.
“Don’t know if I can stop,” Sakusa groans, pushing against him. “Your scent’s so strong. I can’t-“
He pauses, buries his face in the crook of Atsumu’s neck. Fangs scrape his sensitive skin and Atsumu shivers despite himself. His trembling hands come up to pet Sakusa’s head, fingers threading through wild curls. “Okay. That’s fine. We’ll do it like this. The scent should get better after.”
“Liar,” Sakusa mumbles against him. “It gets even stronger.”
“Maybe,” Atsumu chuckles, biting his lip as he uses his heels to grind Sakusa into him. “Do ya like it?”
Sakusa pauses. Atsumu whines and rolls his hips to get more friction.
“Yeah. It smells good,” he finally responds, grabbing Atsumu’s thighs and gripping tightly. “It’s also an aphrodisiac, so. It’s meant to be liked.”
“Ya always find a way to make it unromantic, don’t ya,” Atsumu snickers.
“You had thirty years to get used to it, babe,” Sakusa smirks and bends down to lick a stripe up Atsumu’s neck. He can feel the tremor going down Sakusa’s body when he tastes his sweat, hot and tasting like lemons.
Suddenly Sakusa rips away from him, Atsumu’s legs falling on the bed. He looks up at him with confusion, but Sakusa ignores him in order to zip down his slacks and push them down his thighs. Atsumu shivers with anticipation.
“We’re going to do this properly, for fuck’s sake,” Sakusa grunts and shucks off his shirt too. He presses back against Atsumu, pushing their hips together. “It’s been too long.”
Atsumu gasps, digging his nails in Sakusa’s back. It’s heaven, the slide of their cocks against each other, precum smearing between them. His hips buck and Sakusa pins them down, swallowing his protests with a kiss.
“So you’ve been waitin’ huh?” Atsumu breaths out, pulling away.
Sakusa ruts against him with jerky thrusts, there’s no finesse or rhythm in his movements. “And if I was?”
Atsumu feels the building pressure in his tummy, the telltale tightening of his muscles that comes before an orgasm. It’s embarrassingly quick for him, but he chalks it up to his hunger and the skilled hand snaking between them and gripping both of their erections firmly. The hand belonging to Sakusa is just a mere coincidence.
“Shit, shit, there,” Atsumu gasps, nails scratching down Sakusa’s back as a thumb digs in his slit. He’s still wearing his shirt and he wishes he had thought to take it off, because he wants to pull Sakusa against his chest and feel their sweaty skin together.
Sakusa groans and speeds his hand up, both of their cocks are wet and glistening from the gathered precum and the glide is easy. The slick, distinct sound of jerking off bring heat to Atsumu’s cheeks. It’s lewd. It’s also hot and he’s about to cum.
“Omi, fuck, I’m gonna-” he gasps and his back arches; for a moment he whites out, ears ringing and pure pleasure running through his veins. He doesn’t know what sounds he’s making or what Sakusa’s doing, too focused on the cool pressure still moving against his cock.
He comes down from his high, hips jerking with sensitivity. Sakusa’s pupils are so dilated there’s almost no red left and his eyes look almost they way they normally do. His cheeks are red, mouth open and panting and Atsumu would like to know not for the first time how his blood is still working normally when his heart isn’t pumping.
Sakusa hasn’t stopped jerking them off, if anything his pace gets rougher. Atsumu whimpers and tries to twitch away, but a rumbling growl stops him. Sakusa presses their bodies together, bending so low his breath hits Atsumu’s neck.
Atsumu closes his eyes with a shuddering breath. He’s missed this, the possessive way Sakusa refuses to let him get away even after orgasming, his scent causing Sakusa to lose all his inhibitions, all his calm collectiveness.
The stimulation is bordering on painful, but he lets Sakusa do it because he can feel the desperation in his jerky movements, in the irregular pace of his hand. Fangs scrape his neck and he whimpers. He wants Sakusa to bite him, wants to feel the sting and the blissful pleasure that follows.
“Do it, do it,” he moans, tugging on Sakusa’s hair. He doesn’t need to ask twice, Sakusa’s sharp fangs piercing his skin.
He trashes under Sakusa’s body, pleasure overriding his senses. It’s a fine line between pain and bliss, but that’s what makes it so good. His grip on Sakusa’s curls tightens. “Oh my god-“
Maybe it’s a counterproductive move; Sakusa draining his energy by taking his blood when the only reason they’re even doing this is because Atsumu needs more energy. He doesn’t care though, and apparently neither does Sakusa based on his muffled moans and insistent sucking.
Sakusa’s hand on them both stills and soon Atsumu feels a warm splash on his stomach. He feels like he could get hard again just from the feeling of Sakusa’s cum on him if all his blood weren’t being directed elsewhere.
He’s about to push at Sakusa’s head because he’s starting to get lightheaded when Sakusa pulls off with a disgusting pop, spreading his saliva to close the puncture marks. It’s quiet, only their heavy breathing filling the room and the sticky sound of sweaty skin against sweaty skin when Sakusa goes limp on top of him.
Atsumu keeps his eyes closed, arms and legs wrapped around Sakusa tightly. He can’t quite bring himself to let go.
He feels… better. Almost normal, except he can still feel gaping emptiness in his stomach, not quite satisfied with a hand job.
A hand brushes his sweaty bangs to the side and he opens his eyes to see Sakusa gazing down on him, black eyes soft. Longing fills Atsumu and he presses his chest closer against the vampire.
“Again?” Sakusa murmurs, already working to pull the shirt off of Atsumu. He’s always known Atsumu better than he sometimes knows himself after all.
“Yeah,” he whispers and pulls Sakusa down to capture his lips. His cock is starting to swell between his legs again. He’s pretty sure Sakusa never even softened. “I did say in every way. I wasn’t lyin’.”
“Yeah, I know you weren’t,” Sakusa responds and finally grabs the lube. “I dated an incubus for thirty years, remember? I have experience.”
Atsumu chuckles quietly. “Right. Well, use that experience and put yer dick inside me before I do it to ya.”
“You act like I would mind,” Sakusa smiles briefly and coats his fingers generously in lube. “It’s kind of weird that you’re a sex demon, but you don’t self-lubricate. Would make things easier.”
Atsumu rolls his eyes and turns on his stomach, exposing his ass. Cold fingers come down to hold his asscheek and spread it to expose his hole. “Leave that weird shit to the werewolves, yeah? I like myself the way I am.”
Sakusa nips at his lower back and prods a slick finger against his entrance. “Yeah, I like you like this too.”
It’s disconcerting waking up in Sakusa’s soft bed that always has too many pillows on it. Atsumu shifts blearily, trying to gather his wits. His lower back protests and he winces. Maybe they might have overdone it last night, but when Atsumu’s incubus scent gets going and Sakusa is full of fresh blood it gets intense.
At least he’s not hungry anymore. Not in the incubus way, anyway. He is craving some breakfast though.
He turns to Sakusa, passed out next to him, a faint trace of drool on his chin. He’s still naked and littered with bruises. Atsumu shifts closer to rest his head on Sakusa’s shoulder and flattens his palm against his chest. His skin is cold, there’s no heart beating beneath his hand.
Atsumu glances at Sakusa who’s still dead to the world. His nostrils make soft whistling noses when he breaths. Atsumu stifles a snicker and returns his attention to Sakusa’s body. He looks a mess, Atsumu always did like leaving marks. Ironic, considering he’s not the one with fangs.
He’s pressing on a bruise close to Sakusa’s hip and wondering if he should wake the other up with a blowjob when Sakusa shifts, groaning softly.
“Good mornin’,” Atsumu hums, glancing up. Sakusa squints at him before his hand comes up to messily ruffle Atsumu’s hair.
“Morning,” he croaks. “You’re still here.”
Atsumu scoffs. “Obviously. I’m not goin’ to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager. We’re pretty damn old, I think we can have a mornin’ after conversation like grownups.”
“Can I have my coffee first before we start discussing feelings?” Sakusa mumbles, closing his eyes again.
“No one said anythin’ about feelings, old man.”
“So you let everyone suck your blood during sex?” Sakusa snorts lazily. “It’s a pretty damn intimate thing to do, you know.”
Atsumu turns his head to blow a raspberry against Sakusa’s shoulder. “Shut up. So we have history. Who cares?”
“Yeah, apparently you do. You never stop bringing it up.”
“Because ya hurt me,” Atsumu clicks his tongue. “I’m allowed to be mad at ya. Doesn’t mean I still care about ya specifically.”
Sakusa hums without opening his eyes. “Sure.”
Atsumu eyes him critically. “I’m not the one who agreed to come fuck their ex with zero hesitation. Maybe I’m not the only one who cares.”
“So you’d rather I let you die?”
“Someone would’ve done it eventually, the aphrodisiac is there for a reason,” Atsumu waves his hand. “Ya like me. And I know ya do so don’t even try to deny it.”
Sakusa opens his eyes with a sigh. “Obviously I still like you. Love you. Whatever word you want to use. Doesn’t mean we should get back together.”
“But you wanna,” Atsumu says.
Sakusa exhales and shifts to tuck his arm behind his head. He eyes the ceiling. “Yeah. Yeah, I do, but it obviously didn’t work out that well the first time. You know the definition of insanity?”
“Yeah, I know the definition of insanity,” Atsumu mutters against Sakusa’s shoulder. “It’s blamin’ me for bein’ an incubus as if I have any control over that. Your dumb insecurity was the reason we broke up, nothin’ else.”
“Okay, so I broke us up. What’s stopping me from doing it again?”
Atsumu stays quiet, tracing nonsensical figures on Sakusa’s skin. Sakusa’s chest moves steadily up and down with his breathing and Atsumu follows it with his eyes. He finally speaks up.
“So it goes to shit again. Whatever. We lasted thirty years the last time. I think that’s pretty damn good, no?”
“Why are you so insistent?” Sakusa asks softly.
“Because I-“ Atsumu sighs heavily. “Because I miss ya. And when we worked, we worked. I really feel like maybe we’re the closest thing to soulmates people can be and I don’t want to just throw that away. Do ya?”
Sakusa huffs, tangling his fingers in Atsumu’s messy hair. “You always do this.”
“Do what?” Atsumu hides a smirk in Sakusa’s shoulder. Sakusa’s giving in, he knows that tone.
“Convince me. I swear you have siren blood in you.”
“Nah, that’s just a Miya thing,” Atsumu says and peers up at Sakusa. “Ya should hear Osamu when we fight. He could’ve been a great lawyer.”
“Right,” Sakusa says and catches his eyes. “You’re really making me do this, huh? You think we can make it to forty this time?”
Atsumu smiles wide and lets his fingers dance across Sakusa’s hip to grasp his soft dick that twitches valiantly in his hand. Sakusa groans softly and clenches his eyes shut. Atsumu grins.
“Challenge accepted.”