sexual content (rough sex, biting, language) word count: 1,011
"Harder."
Sousuke grunts through gritted teeth, skin around his knuckles turning white from where he has them gripped against the hard bench. Rough hands tighten around his hipbones, hot flesh digging into hard muscle. There's a heady scent in the air, which rings with the sound of skin on skin every time Ushijima fucks into him, steady and demanding. His breathing is ragged, fanning warm and labored against Sousuke's nape, and he makes no move to increase the pressure or pace.
Sousuke sends baleful glance over his shoulder, sweat stinging into his eyes, which he forces open anyway so that Ushijima bear the full weight of his glare. "Oi," he pants, angling his hips, flexing his thighs so that he fucks back onto Ushijima's cock heavily to make a point, "I said harder."
"Wait," Ushijima says, face very nearly impassive. Sousuke wouldn't even be able to tell he was feeling a thing, if not for the sheen of sweat collecting on his brow, which is furrowed minutely in concentration as he grabs hold of Sousuke's hips more firmly and resumes their steady pace.
Sousuke turns back around and rests his forehead between his arms. This isn't what he had wanted--everything about Ushijima is big. Big arms, big quads, big hands, big cock. But he's sure as hell not doing enough with it, even with the way the stretch is just bordering on delicious, the agonizing slide just enough to make Sousuke's mind get the slightest bit frayed around the edges.
But he needs more.
When he'd first seen Ushijima, he'd seen someone who could hold him down, pound into him, fuck him for all he was worth. That was what he'd wanted. Not this--not this slow, steady rhythm, not this painfully gradual buildup that has him feeling full to the brim, balanced precariously between spilling over the edge and staying contained.
His cock hangs heavily between his legs, swollen and untouched, leaking thin, pearly strings of precum onto the surface below.
"I thought you were supposed to be the best in the country at what you do," he tries again, every few words punctuated by the staccato drive of Ushijima's hips into him.
"I am," Ushijima response, voice low, rumbling deep in his chest. Oh, he's enjoying this, Sousuke just knows he is.
"Well you sure don't fuck like it," he comments snidely, putting just an extra bit of arch into his back, tightening his muscles around the thick cock stretching him wide.
Ushijima pauses then, and Sousuke doesn't need to turn around to feel the weight of his eyes against his back, suddenly laden with challenge.
"Fine," Ushijima says, and every bit of underlying fire that Sousuke could feel in his stare has multiplied tenfold in his voice. "Have it your way."
He draws up so that Sousuke is fully bent over beneath him, and sets a merciless pace that has Sousuke groaning between his teeth. Ushijima grips him so hard around the waist that he knows there will be marks there later, indented in the shapes of his digits, and his cock drives in and out of Souske with a force that has the entire locker room bench shaking against its foundations on the tiled floor beneath them, echoing in the air with a crude sort of drum rhythm.
"Yes, fuck," Sousuke gasps when Ushijima hauls him up by his biceps so that he can crush his torso against Sousuke's back and press his teeth, hot and searing, none too lightly into the junction of Sousuke's neck and shoulder. It aggravates the injury there, leaving a muted sort of dull throbbing in the muscle, but Sousuke takes it all in anyways. He encourages Ushijima, who generally says nothing except for the occasional grunt or groan between his labored breathing.
Sousuke reaches his good arm up and grabs a fistful of the short hair on Ushijima's nape so that he can turn his face towards him, and then he crushes their mouths together in a violent kiss that matches the pace of their fucking. It starts like that, but ends up being mostly Sousuke panting into Ushijima's open mouth as he begins to see stars around the edges of his vision, feel the familiar coil in his lower back, waiting to spring and release everything pent up over the previous agonizing minutes.
Ushijima seems to sense it too, because he reaches down, curls a calloused hand around Sousuke's cock, rubbing a thumb nearly harshly over the tip and smearing precum down the shaft in a way that has Sousuke gasping aloud, tightening his grip in Ushijima's hair.
He comes undone just moments later, a rubber band stretched too far, too long, and snaps with a force that has long spurts of white painting Ushijima's hand and his own abdomen. Ushijima fucks him through his orgasm, not letting up on the pace until Sousuke feels him coming as well, hot and slick inside him.
They both groan when Ushijima slides out, slow and steady--it feels like it's been forever since his cock hadn't been inside of Sousuke's body. And although Sousuke feels like he could collapse right over the side of the bench and stay there forever, he still draws himself up to his full height after it's over--not all that different from Ushijima's, whose eyes have lost some of the passionate fury and spark they'd had earlier.
It's silent as they clean up, but they're both naturally rather quiet people. Sousuke thinks about maybe setting something up for the both of them--a system, that would be good.
"Yamazaki." Ushijima's voice is steady, unwavering. Like always. "It's a shame about that injury."
Sousuke looks away with a tsk--so he'd noticed. He'd been hoping it would go by unmentioned, but he guesses he has no such luck.
"You would have made a good volleyball man, I think," Ushijima continues, oblivious to Sousuke's annoyance. "Perhaps you might have even gone to Shiratorizawa...perhaps you should have."
Sousuke changes mind on the spot about setting up a system for them. He's had enough. For now.
FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, E
word count: 1,011
"Harder."
Sousuke grunts through gritted teeth, skin around his knuckles turning white from where he has them gripped against the hard bench. Rough hands tighten around his hipbones, hot flesh digging into hard muscle. There's a heady scent in the air, which rings with the sound of skin on skin every time Ushijima fucks into him, steady and demanding. His breathing is ragged, fanning warm and labored against Sousuke's nape, and he makes no move to increase the pressure or pace.
Sousuke sends baleful glance over his shoulder, sweat stinging into his eyes, which he forces open anyway so that Ushijima bear the full weight of his glare. "Oi," he pants, angling his hips, flexing his thighs so that he fucks back onto Ushijima's cock heavily to make a point, "I said harder."
"Wait," Ushijima says, face very nearly impassive. Sousuke wouldn't even be able to tell he was feeling a thing, if not for the sheen of sweat collecting on his brow, which is furrowed minutely in concentration as he grabs hold of Sousuke's hips more firmly and resumes their steady pace.
Sousuke turns back around and rests his forehead between his arms. This isn't what he had wanted--everything about Ushijima is big. Big arms, big quads, big hands, big cock. But he's sure as hell not doing enough with it, even with the way the stretch is just bordering on delicious, the agonizing slide just enough to make Sousuke's mind get the slightest bit frayed around the edges.
But he needs more.
When he'd first seen Ushijima, he'd seen someone who could hold him down, pound into him, fuck him for all he was worth. That was what he'd wanted. Not this--not this slow, steady rhythm, not this painfully gradual buildup that has him feeling full to the brim, balanced precariously between spilling over the edge and staying contained.
His cock hangs heavily between his legs, swollen and untouched, leaking thin, pearly strings of precum onto the surface below.
"I thought you were supposed to be the best in the country at what you do," he tries again, every few words punctuated by the staccato drive of Ushijima's hips into him.
"I am," Ushijima response, voice low, rumbling deep in his chest. Oh, he's enjoying this, Sousuke just knows he is.
"Well you sure don't fuck like it," he comments snidely, putting just an extra bit of arch into his back, tightening his muscles around the thick cock stretching him wide.
Ushijima pauses then, and Sousuke doesn't need to turn around to feel the weight of his eyes against his back, suddenly laden with challenge.
"Fine," Ushijima says, and every bit of underlying fire that Sousuke could feel in his stare has multiplied tenfold in his voice. "Have it your way."
He draws up so that Sousuke is fully bent over beneath him, and sets a merciless pace that has Sousuke groaning between his teeth. Ushijima grips him so hard around the waist that he knows there will be marks there later, indented in the shapes of his digits, and his cock drives in and out of Souske with a force that has the entire locker room bench shaking against its foundations on the tiled floor beneath them, echoing in the air with a crude sort of drum rhythm.
"Yes, fuck," Sousuke gasps when Ushijima hauls him up by his biceps so that he can crush his torso against Sousuke's back and press his teeth, hot and searing, none too lightly into the junction of Sousuke's neck and shoulder. It aggravates the injury there, leaving a muted sort of dull throbbing in the muscle, but Sousuke takes it all in anyways. He encourages Ushijima, who generally says nothing except for the occasional grunt or groan between his labored breathing.
Sousuke reaches his good arm up and grabs a fistful of the short hair on Ushijima's nape so that he can turn his face towards him, and then he crushes their mouths together in a violent kiss that matches the pace of their fucking. It starts like that, but ends up being mostly Sousuke panting into Ushijima's open mouth as he begins to see stars around the edges of his vision, feel the familiar coil in his lower back, waiting to spring and release everything pent up over the previous agonizing minutes.
Ushijima seems to sense it too, because he reaches down, curls a calloused hand around Sousuke's cock, rubbing a thumb nearly harshly over the tip and smearing precum down the shaft in a way that has Sousuke gasping aloud, tightening his grip in Ushijima's hair.
He comes undone just moments later, a rubber band stretched too far, too long, and snaps with a force that has long spurts of white painting Ushijima's hand and his own abdomen. Ushijima fucks him through his orgasm, not letting up on the pace until Sousuke feels him coming as well, hot and slick inside him.
They both groan when Ushijima slides out, slow and steady--it feels like it's been forever since his cock hadn't been inside of Sousuke's body. And although Sousuke feels like he could collapse right over the side of the bench and stay there forever, he still draws himself up to his full height after it's over--not all that different from Ushijima's, whose eyes have lost some of the passionate fury and spark they'd had earlier.
It's silent as they clean up, but they're both naturally rather quiet people. Sousuke thinks about maybe setting something up for the both of them--a system, that would be good.
"Yamazaki." Ushijima's voice is steady, unwavering. Like always. "It's a shame about that injury."
Sousuke looks away with a tsk--so he'd noticed. He'd been hoping it would go by unmentioned, but he guesses he has no such luck.
"You would have made a good volleyball man, I think," Ushijima continues, oblivious to Sousuke's annoyance. "Perhaps you might have even gone to Shiratorizawa...perhaps you should have."
Sousuke changes mind on the spot about setting up a system for them. He's had enough. For now.