When Oikawa and Matsukawa first began this little affair of theirs, keeping it hidden from their friends and everyone else had come with its own unique thrill. It had happened accidentally—an untimely encounter on the roof of the annex building at their university where they would always meet up for lunch on a day that Hanamaki and Iwaizumi were running late, and with just the two of them there, it seemed impossible to ignore the distinct sexual tension between them that had begun to manifest ever since they saw each other again at university, the autumn after graduating high school. Oikawa couldn’t put his finger on what it was, exactly, but he recalled the way their eyes had met that day and the only thought that had crossed Oikawa’s mind was he looks good.
It had taken some time to address it, there was never a moment when they were alone and actively seeking out each other seemed unwise, so when they found themselves on that rooftop, one thing led to another and they shared their first kiss, and maybe things would have spiraled out from there if their friends hadn’t arrived then and effectively cut short the blooming of a completely new and unknown adventure. It was precisely because of that interruption that they couldn’t find it in themselves to say anything. It was too awkward, too sudden, too much and too soon.
Days passed, though, and they still never said anything, instead keeping it to themselves like some sort of secret, and Oikawa would be lying if he said he didn’t find it exciting. The more they tried to keep it hidden, the more bold they became, pushing the limits of how much they could get away with without anyone finding out. It was a game, one that Oikawa knew they were both doomed to lose one way or another, but winning was never really the goal, anyway.
That was how they ended up like this, Oikawa leaning on his arms against the windowsill, Matsukawa standing behind him with his hands on his hips and his lips on his neck. Oikawa’s white shirt was unbuttoned, the fabric lifting softly in the warm sea breeze that carried up from the beach their hotel room overlooked. Iwaizumi and Hanamaki had gone on ahead to set up their towels and umbrellas while Oikawa and Matsukawa stayed behind with the excuse of getting together drinks for the cooler and taking their own showers that morning. It was enough to buy them a little time, at least.
“You look good,” Matsukawa muttered into his shoulder with that gravely bass of his. It never failed to send shivers down Oikawa’s spine whenever he heard it and Matsukawa knew it. “Anyone who looks up here would have to stop and stare.”
And that was another thing that made him quiver. At some point, this “game” of theirs had taken on a more risque tone, or perhaps it had just awakened a mutual kink they hadn’t had the opportunity to indulge before. More and more often did they seek out situations where getting caught was not only a possibility, but a likelihood. Like now, where Oikawa could see all the people mulling about in the sand and water a few stories below and if he weren’t careful, if Matsukawa decided to be just a little bit mean, they could all end up hearing him and looking up to see everything.
He was hard. Undeniably and unabashedly, he had never been more turned on in his life than right now, with Matsukawa’s hands sliding up his sides, fingers gliding over his chest, and his tongue licking a hot, wet stripe up the side of his neck. He nibbled on the brunet’s ear when he reached it, causing Oikawa to have to bite down on his lip to muffle a noise as he subconsciously pressed back against Matsukawa. He could already feel that he wasn’t the only one affected by the display they were putting on.
“It’ll be your fault,” he breathed, closing his eyes against the feeling of Matsukawa’s hands roaming across his skin. “If they look up, they’ll see what a mess you’re making of me right here in front of everyone. What would that say about you, I wonder?”
“Nothing I won’t take full responsibility for,” Matsukawa replied with a deep chuckle. “Let them watch. It’d be tragic if I were the only one who got to see how damn gorgeous you look when you’re falling apart under my touch.”
Oikawa let out a sigh that bordered on a moan as he felt Matsukawa’s lips at his neck again, tilting his head to the side to give him more room. A part of him wished that Matsukawa would bite him, leave a mark or five, but they couldn’t risk it when they were supposed to join their friends by the water soon and there was no way Oikawa would be able to cover any hickeys in just his swim trunks.
Instead, Matsukawa took the liberty of sliding a hand down the front of his pants, shamelessly cupping the shape of his arousal through the fabric. Oikawa pressed his lips together with a quiet noise in the back of his throat, torn between rolling his hips into that touch or pushing them back against Matsukawa’s where he could feel a similarly hard length rubbing against his backside. In the end, he decided to do both, which made Matsukawa tighten his grip on his waist as he met the motion in kind with a forward grind of his own and a growl in Oikawa’s ear.
“Watch it,” he hissed. “If you’re too impatient, I won’t be nice.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to be nice,” Oikawa countered, tossing him a glance over his shoulder. Matsukawa’s eyes darkened at that and he squeezed Oikawa through his pants, eliciting a soft moan from the brunet.
Oikawa lifted himself up onto his hands on the windowsill, raising his upper body so that more of himself was visible from the outside. Every time he glanced down at the beach, his cock twitched and Matsukawa could feel it against his palm. It wasn’t long before Matsukawa unzipped his pants and freed his growing erection, the warm sea breeze against his sensitive skin making Oikawa shudder.
Matsukawa was a man of his word, though, and spared not an ounce of mercy when he tugged Oikawa’s pants down to his thighs, spread apart his cheeks while kneeling down behind him, and promptly licked a hot, wet stripe right over his twitching hole. Oikawa lurched forward in shock, just barely biting back a noise that would have been all too loud for his liking. Matsukawa kept a firm grasp on his hips while he ate him out, paying no mind to the small sounds straining at the back of Oikawa’s throat. Gods, he kind of hated Matsukawa sometimes, but it was moments just such as this that kept pulling him back in, desperate for that talented tongue to take him apart.
And, oh, that tongue was talented. It could do things inside him that Oikawa didn’t even think were possible, yet here he was, weak in the knees as Matsukawa twisted and curved his tongue inside of him and around his entrance like he’d spent his whole life devoted to eating ass. Oikawa never really understood the appeal personally, but he certainly appreciated how it felt to be on the receiving end.
He could see Hanamaki and Iwaizumi stroll out onto the beach below now, pressing a hand over his mouth as Matsukawa fit one long, slim finger inside him. He prayed they wouldn’t look up here wondering why the two of them were taking so long. Actually, he prayed that no one looked up here, but it would be especially mortifying for their friends to spot them in such a…compromising position, especially when Matsukawa, now two fingers deep, could so expertly find and stroke his prostate with such devastating precision that Oikawa was already leaking pre-cum from the tip of his cock onto the concrete patio.
“Please…hurry,” he all but sobbed, face aflame and thighs shuddering with every masterful thrust of those fingers, three of them now. He heard Matsukawa hum behind him, considering his request without letting up the slightest.
“Hmm… I dunno. Have you earned my cock yet?” Matsukawa pondered aloud, twisting his wrist to curl his fingers inside Oikawa in such a way that made his knees buckle. Oikawa had to grip the railing with both hands just to keep himself upright, forgoing anything to keep his voice in check. This allowed a strained whine to slip past his lips.
“Please, Mattsun. They’re gonna start getting suspicious.” Yes, that was the excuse he would use as to why he wanted Matsukawa to hurry things along. It had absolutely nothing to do with the way his stomach fluttered at the thought of having Matsukawa’s cock buried inside him while he was put on full display for anyone to glance up and see.
They would be able to see how hard he was and how the red, swollen head of his dick dibbled pre-cum between his feet, how his whole body shook every time Matsukawa thrust inside him, how his face twisted in unadulterated pleasure from being fucked so well by such a perfect devil. It would almost be a shame if absolutely no one got to behold the sight of them.
Matsukawa rose up behind him, draping himself over Oikawa’s back with three fingers still pressed as far inside him as they could go, and his voice rumbled into the brunet’s ear.
“Call me by my name,” he demanded, rubbing his fingertips against the bundle of nerve endings that set Oikawa’s insides on fire all over again. He tilted back his head against Matsukawa’s shoulder and whispered out a broken moan right next to his ear.
“Issei.”
“Again.” He spread his fingers inside him, making Oikawa’s cock jump against his stomach.
“Mm, fuck—Issei, please, please. I need you. Need to feel you inside me.” Matsukawa strangled out a sigh, tilting his head forward to rest his teeth against Oikawa’s shoulder, not biting, but with every desire to do so. With a few final, pointed thrusts of his fingers, he finally withdrew them, leaving Oikawa empty and dissatisfied and so very ready for more.
“Keep your hands down,” Matsukawa said, the telltale sound of a zipper coming from behind. “Don’t cover your mouth.”
Oikawa’s heart skipped a beat. It was a tall order, but he would obey nonetheless. This was easily the riskiest situation they’d ever been in on their growing exhibitionist streak, and it could very well be their last. If the wrong person looked up and caught them, they could end up dealing with cops at their door. The thought in itself was terrifying, but the thought that followed—of Matsukawa continuing to fuck him even while people blatantly stared, even while police banged on their door, putting on a show for their onlookers with the malicious intent of making sure Oikawa came no matter who was watching or listening—made him moan brazenly into the air. Apparently it was louder than Matsukawa was expecting from him, judging by the way his hand flew up to shove two fingers in Oikawa’s mouth while the other spread lube over his own cock and steadied it at the brunet’s entrance.
“Shhh,” he ordered, breath teasing at Oikawa’s ear again as he slowly pushed the tip past the ring of muscles already trying to suck him inside.
Oikawa whimpered around his fingers, obediently sucking at them despite not having been told to do so. He heard Matsukawa curse under his breath, and soon he was seated all the way inside, hips flush together and Oikawa’s walls twitching around his length as he adjusted to the stretch.
“You’re such a good whore,” Matsukawa cooed, slowly starting to move. He dragged his cock back with practiced control, leaving just the tip inside before pushing back in just as slowly. Oikawa moaned around his fingers while they played with his tongue, drool building at one corner of his mouth and he couldn’t even be bothered to care. “You love taking my cock, don’t you? Love it when I fuck you in front of everyone and show them what a pretty slut you are for me.”
He emphasized his point with a particularly rough thrust that had Oikawa’s eyes rolling back, a strangled noise seeping out of his throat. Matsukawa pressed his fingers down against his tongue, forcing his mouth open without any hope of keeping him quiet now. They must really have some sort of death wish.
“Look at you,” Matsukawa continued, breath fanning over Oikawa’s cheek. “You’re so fucking hard for me right now. You wish someone would look up and see you, huh? Wish Iwaizumi or Hanamaki would walk in here and watch you come all over yourself, watch you choke on my fingers and take my cock like you were made for it.”
Oikawa moaned again, the sound bordering on a sob. His head was all kinds of fuzzy from listening to Matsukawa rip his thoughts right out of his head and whisper them to him, barely registering that he was still supposed to try to be quiet right now.
“Bet you’d like it if they got off from looking at you. You would, wouldn’t you? You want ‘em to come while watching me fuck you. Make ‘em look, but not touch. ‘Cause you’re mine, Tooru. Only I get to fuck you like this.”
Oikawa tried to say something around the fingers in his mouth, but it came out garbled and unintelligible. Matsukawa relented, removing his fingers and letting them rest wetly against his throat instead. The next time Oikawa tried to speak, his voice was hoarse from gasping and barely holding back his moans.
“Yours,” he rasped. Matsukawa was the one to groan this time, muffling the noise into his shoulder as he sped up his thrusts to a brutal pace.
“Fuck, that’s right, baby. All mine. You’re my perfect little whore.”
Matsukawa’s not-so-subtle possessiveness and penchant for dirty talk mixed with Oikawa’s appreciation for mild degradation made for quite the thrilling combination of kinks, to say the least. Once they both stumbled into each other’s niches, the pieces fit together like magic. It certainly didn’t hurt that Matsukawa’s voice was better than sex itself on a regular day, so hearing it rumble filthy half-compliments into his ear and feeling his deep, gravelly groans vibrate through his chest never failed to get him off every single time.
Matsukawa still had a shred of sense left to fit his hand over Oikawa’s mouth when the brunet came untouched, cum splattering against the glass balcony railing to leave an obscene mark. Matsukawa fucked him all through his orgasm, never letting up his merciless pace even once, but as soon as he could free his hand again, he gripped Oikawa’s hips with bruising force and redoubled his efforts. Oikawa could barely hang on to the railing for dear life as Matsukawa pounded into him at the perfect angle to squeeze more cum from the tip of his dick, still hard and swinging between his legs when every thrust.
Soon enough, though, Matsukawa followed him to the edge, roughly dragging their hips together once, twice, three more times before pinning Oikawa in place. The brunet shuddered out one last, weak moan when he felt Matsukawa’s cock pulse inside him before the thick, warm feeling of his release began to fill him. Of course they didn’t think to use a condom when Oikawa had to walk out of there in nothing more than swim trunks in just a few moments. Still, the impending awkwardness didn’t stop him from relishing the feeling while it lasted, especially when Matsukawa rolled his hips shallowly, as if trying to fuck his seed deeper inside Oikawa. He could swear he felt Matsukawa’s seed invading every crevice within him, a new wave warming his insides every time his dick twitched. Gods, he would never be able to understand how Matsukawa could always come so much.
They stayed like that for a few moments after, catching their breath, before Matsukawa hummed quietly and placed a soft kiss on his shoulder.
“Wait right here,” he mumbled just before pulling out, making Oikawa give a broken whine at the loss of something stretching him open.
He didn’t even question the order, hanging his head between his shoulders while he took the time to recover. As far as he could tell, they had made it through without causing a scene, so he would gladly take the opportunity to regather his composure before he had to walk downstairs and face their friends.
When Matsukawa returned, he smoothed a hand up Oikawa’s back, eliciting an appreciative hum, but that was promptly cut off by a shocked squeal of sorts when he felt something pushing into his ass again. He frantically whipped his head around to try to see what Matsukawa was putting inside him so soon.
“Relax,” the man assured, easing the object deeper inside, the flayed shape spreading him open more and more the deeper it went. Oikawa couldn’t find his voice to protest, instead letting out a stuttered series of moans until the shape of the object tapered back in dramatically, a wide base keeping it firmly lodged inside. Is that a…? “It’s just a plug,” Matsukawa explained. Oikawa slowly pushed himself back up on his arms, pinning his lover with an accusatory look.
“And why, might I ask, did you just put a plug inside me?” he inquired. Matsukawa smirked.
“We don’t have time to clean you out right now,” he said, “and I intend to pick this up again later tonight.” Oikawa arched a brow at him.
“Is that so? Care to fill me in?” He immediately regretted his choice of words when Matsukawa’s smirk turned devious, lifting a finger to curl under Oikawa’s chin.
“Oh, I plan to,” he purred, inclining his head so that their lips were merely a breath apart. Oikawa found himself holding his while he was trapped in those mischievous onyx eyes. “Tonight, when everyone else is asleep, I’m gonna fuck you under the covers.” Oikawa swallowed through a dry throat.
“...What if they wake up?”
“What are they gonna do about it?” Matsukawa shot back. He moved the finger from his chin to tuck Oikawa’s hair behind his ear instead. “You know everybody wants to fuck you, Tooru. It’s as close as they’re ever gonna get. Might as well give ‘em something to remember.”