Read on Twitter
SO. THAT Bokuto from Maddox.
Now I’m thinking of the MSBY team being like, “Bokuto is such an accidental thirst trap.”
And he’s like, “What! What’s that!” He has his shirt off and is wiping his face with it.
And they look at each other and then look at him. +
Now I’m thinking of the MSBY team being like, “Bokuto is such an accidental thirst trap.”
And he’s like, “What! What’s that!” He has his shirt off and is wiping his face with it.
And they look at each other and then look at him. +
And they’re just all rolled eyes and exasperation when they say, “You’re so married.”
Affronted (bc hell yeah he’s married!), he asks Akaashi that night. “Babe. What’s a thirst trap?” +
Affronted (bc hell yeah he’s married!), he asks Akaashi that night. “Babe. What’s a thirst trap?” +
[CW: May get NSFW? Dunno. Gonna come back to this.]
Akaashi taps a finger to mark his place in his book and turns to look at him over his glasses. Bokuto adjusts his back against the pillows cushioning him up on the headboard - again, shirtless. He waits as Akaashi stares. +
Akaashi taps a finger to mark his place in his book and turns to look at him over his glasses. Bokuto adjusts his back against the pillows cushioning him up on the headboard - again, shirtless. He waits as Akaashi stares. +
Bokuto smiles, enjoying the attention as Akaashi’s eyes trail from where the sheets sit low on Bokuto’s waist, exposing the hint of the lines trailing lower, the curves of his abs climbing to his pecs, before they settle on bright gold eyes peering earnestly back at him. +
“Well,” Akaashi says, and he reaches for his bookmark.
Bokuto’s eyebrows lift toward his hairline, because that’s always a nice development when it’s still early in the night. Usually Akaashi will read until he falls asleep sitting up, glasses hanging off his nose. +
Bokuto’s eyebrows lift toward his hairline, because that’s always a nice development when it’s still early in the night. Usually Akaashi will read until he falls asleep sitting up, glasses hanging off his nose. +
But on other nights, sometimes Bokuto will say something completely innocuous, and Akaashi will do just that. Reach for his bookmark, slip his glasses off just like that, and then to him, a little blinder probably, but a certain kind of heat there making his eyes brighter. +
Bokuto turns toward him, not really trying to tamp down on his eagerness, and he likes that upward lilt of Akaashi’s lips in response.
“Now who taught you that term, Koutarou?” Akaashi asks. His voice is quiet.
Bokuto swallows. Oh. They’re still gonna talk.
“Uh - the guys?” +
“Now who taught you that term, Koutarou?” Akaashi asks. His voice is quiet.
Bokuto swallows. Oh. They’re still gonna talk.
“Uh - the guys?” +
Akaashi shifts closer. His fingers are long and slender, stained with ink these days instead of covered with curls of athletic tape. His fingertips are feather-light on Bokuto’s abdomens, but soon they press like a small weights as Akaashi shifts closer still to lean into him. +
“Keiji?” Bokuto says, voice lilting up in question. Because this isn’t usually how it goes.
Akaashi is a straightforward man. He’s so smart, the smartest man Bokuto knows. The best man. And he deliberates. He’s always thinking. So when he makes a move - well, he //makes// it. +
Akaashi is a straightforward man. He’s so smart, the smartest man Bokuto knows. The best man. And he deliberates. He’s always thinking. So when he makes a move - well, he //makes// it. +
His decisions are calculated, well-thought things. But this? This feels different.
His movements are unhurried as he slides the firm press of this fingers up first. They glide over Bokuto’s abs like he’s trying to smooth away the curves. They trace the lines of his pecs, +
His movements are unhurried as he slides the firm press of this fingers up first. They glide over Bokuto’s abs like he’s trying to smooth away the curves. They trace the lines of his pecs, +
the bud of his nipples, making Bokuto bite his lip. He’s curious still, but that curiosity is less about the change in demeanor now than where Akaashi is going next with those deft hands.
One of them tips Bokuto’s chin up, curls around his jaw. It’s a surprisingly firm hold. +
One of them tips Bokuto’s chin up, curls around his jaw. It’s a surprisingly firm hold. +
“Did you ask them?” Akaashi says. His thumb digs into the bone above Bokuto’s jaw.
He’s used to a gentle Akaashi. A warm one. An awkwardly sweet one. But as Bokuto looks back into eyes he’s stared into for nearly half of his life at this point, he almost doesn’t recognize him. +
He’s used to a gentle Akaashi. A warm one. An awkwardly sweet one. But as Bokuto looks back into eyes he’s stared into for nearly half of his life at this point, he almost doesn’t recognize him. +
“Ask them?” Bokuto replies. He shakes his head as if to clear it beneath the haze he feels under this strange pressure of Akaashi’s gaze, but Akaashi holds him in place.
“Focus, Koutarou.” +
“Focus, Koutarou.” +
“Oh.” Bokuto shifts, but he stills again at the firm press of Akaashi’s fingers on his jaw. “Yes? They said I was so married.” He frowns, remembering the tone to their words. “I love being married!” he exclaims, defensive all over again. +
Akaashi looks like he’s holding back a smile. And where he’s normally release it after a moment, this time it smooths out into a sort of impassiveness that Bokuto hasn’t seen since high school.
The pressure on his jaw disappears. +
The pressure on his jaw disappears. +
In its place is a rustle of sheets as Akaashi gets on his knees.
And Bokuto watches, enraptured, his skin lighting up with the pink flush of arousal when Akaashi moves to straddle him. It’s a slow, graceful movement, one Bokuto has seen so many times and yet not enough. +
And Bokuto watches, enraptured, his skin lighting up with the pink flush of arousal when Akaashi moves to straddle him. It’s a slow, graceful movement, one Bokuto has seen so many times and yet not enough. +
Carefully, unsure of what this new mood his husband is in, Bokuto rests his hands lightly on Akaashi’s hips.
And Akaashi’s hands return. They feel hotter now, as they trail downward this time. +
And Akaashi’s hands return. They feel hotter now, as they trail downward this time. +
Down the hard planes of Bokuto’s chest, the firmness of his stomach, into the divots of his hips.
And as his hands trail lower, Akaashi shifts so he can sink down too.
“Keiji,” Bokuto says again.
“Why don’t I show you what a thirst trap is, Koutarou?” Akaashi replies softly. +
And as his hands trail lower, Akaashi shifts so he can sink down too.
“Keiji,” Bokuto says again.
“Why don’t I show you what a thirst trap is, Koutarou?” Akaashi replies softly. +
There, from between the V of his legs, Bokuto watches as Akaashi runs his nose over the hot bulge of his cock in his briefs.
“Yeah - I - that sounds good, Keiji,” Bokuto says around a swallow.
He bites his lip again as Akaashi uses tongue next over the fabric. +
“Yeah - I - that sounds good, Keiji,” Bokuto says around a swallow.
He bites his lip again as Akaashi uses tongue next over the fabric. +
He likes this, always has.
The part where Akaashi takes his time, takes what he wants, does it for himself. He does so little for himself, and Bokuto is willing, always, to give whenever he can.
It turns him into a fucking wreck though. +
The part where Akaashi takes his time, takes what he wants, does it for himself. He does so little for himself, and Bokuto is willing, always, to give whenever he can.
It turns him into a fucking wreck though. +
Akaashi makes a wet mess of Bokuto’s briefs, licking, sucking through the material until he needs to hold Bokuto down by his hips. He may not be an athlete anymore, but the strength remains, and he uses it when he wants to. +
Bokuto can’t help but entangle one hand in Akaashi’s hair, fist the other in his own.
He tips his head back against the headboard, shuts his eyes, breathes through his nose to settle against the sensation of light pressure and wet heat through the barrier of his briefs. +
He tips his head back against the headboard, shuts his eyes, breathes through his nose to settle against the sensation of light pressure and wet heat through the barrier of his briefs. +
Then he feels cool air kiss the skin of his cock when Akaashi pulls away and squeezes his hips.
Only then does he glance back down.
“Lift up,” Akaashi says. His voice is even, controlled, but his chest is moving with quick breaths as he licks his lips and meets Bokuto’s eyes. +
Only then does he glance back down.
“Lift up,” Akaashi says. His voice is even, controlled, but his chest is moving with quick breaths as he licks his lips and meets Bokuto’s eyes. +
Bokuto is quick to comply, letting Akaashi tug down his briefs just enough to sit below his ass and free his dick.
He’s so hard by now it hurts a little, precum gathering at the tip of his cock, but Akaashi never makes him hurt for too long. +
He’s so hard by now it hurts a little, precum gathering at the tip of his cock, but Akaashi never makes him hurt for too long. +
Soon, Bokuto is envelopes in a hot, hot mouth, slick and eager because Akaashi loves this. His mouth gets so fucking wet, his eyes fall shut with how much he wants it, and it just makes Bokuto wilder for him.
He tugs harder at Akaashi’s hair, bucks at the moan it elicits. +
He tugs harder at Akaashi’s hair, bucks at the moan it elicits. +
He feels it when the head of his cock kisses the back of Akaashi’s throat and groans. He doesn’t hold back a sound. Akaashi likes it when he’s loud. Says it gets him going.
And it does. Bokuto can tell by the way Akaashi sucks harder. Uses a hand to get at what he can’t reach. +
And it does. Bokuto can tell by the way Akaashi sucks harder. Uses a hand to get at what he can’t reach. +
“Fuck, Keiji,” Bokuto gasps out from another long, sucking drag of wet heat as Akaashi draws back. “Like that. Just like that.”
He looks down, watches another long pass like that, tries not to thrust up too hard, allowing himself just a few small grinding movements. +
He looks down, watches another long pass like that, tries not to thrust up too hard, allowing himself just a few small grinding movements. +
Akaashi’s eyes are squeezed shut. He works so hard to open his throat, knows Bokuto loves how tight it is there around his cock, and his eyelashes are clumped form tears at the effort.
And Akaashi has always given Bokuto his best, all of his effort, always. Even in this. +
And Akaashi has always given Bokuto his best, all of his effort, always. Even in this. +
Especially in this.
Akaashi swallows around him as he sinks forward, nose brushing at the trail of hair at the base of Bokuto’s dick, dropping his hand back to Bokuto’s hip.
“Baby, baby, I’m close,” Bokuto warns, panting hard and pulling at Akaashi’s hair. +
Akaashi swallows around him as he sinks forward, nose brushing at the trail of hair at the base of Bokuto’s dick, dropping his hand back to Bokuto’s hip.
“Baby, baby, I’m close,” Bokuto warns, panting hard and pulling at Akaashi’s hair. +
Akaashi hums around him, his eyes blinking open, and heat sears through Bokuto’s body like lightning.
Akaashi has only enough time to pull off, one hand gripping Bokuto from the base and jerking him lightly before Bokuto comes, hard, spurting across his own chest, his chin. +
Akaashi has only enough time to pull off, one hand gripping Bokuto from the base and jerking him lightly before Bokuto comes, hard, spurting across his own chest, his chin. +
It’s only when he blinks his eyes open that he realized he’d shut them, that time has passed, and it’s because she heard the telltale sign of a click.
When he looks up, Akaashi is kneeling there in the V of Bokuto’s legs, his phone in hand, staring down at the screen. +
When he looks up, Akaashi is kneeling there in the V of Bokuto’s legs, his phone in hand, staring down at the screen. +
Noticing Bokuto’s attention, he smiles. It’s the soft, sweet, familiar smile Bokuto loves.
“Look, sweetheart,” Akaashi says. He turns the phone. +
“Look, sweetheart,” Akaashi says. He turns the phone. +
Bokuto feels himself turn bright red at the picture before him. He’s seated up against the headboard, his head tilted back, one hand fisted tight in his own hair and his eyes shut tight, +
cum dripping from his chin, down the hard planes of his chest, slipping into the curves of his abs, the divots of his hips.
“Oh my god,” he says.
“That,” Akaashi says, pulling his phone back and smiling down at the photo, “is a thirst trap.”
///
“Oh my god,” he says.
“That,” Akaashi says, pulling his phone back and smiling down at the photo, “is a thirst trap.”
///
LOL OMG That became filthier than I’d originally planned. An alt thread fic would be Akaashi teaching Bokuto to take thirst traps and making his team mates super thirsty for him and lording the fact that Bokuto is his over them. But...this is what happened instead. LOL BYE.
