your love is poison and more
OCTOBER TWENTY FIRST,
TWO THOUSAND AND FIFTEEN
18:10 in the evening
INHALING SMOKE, the grey wisps of pain and misery, Sora stood on the balcony. He held the cigarette to his lips, sucking in the toxins and hoping it would drown out his thoughts. The air around him was cool. It was nighttime now, and there was no one home.
Sora leant against the railing, watching the sky darken, blue and purple mixed together in a melancholic dance. His lungs burned. It felt like he was drowning, and that feeling still ignited something within his chest. Made him feel alive. He guessed that even with the passing years, some things just don't change. Still, that pain, that friend that sat by him when the world was moving too fast, was a company Sora was beginning to hate.
He didn't like it. Hated feeling it.
You see, Sora had always loved the ocean. Was willing to drown in it.
But as he grew up, that sort of love was tearing him apart, and Sora recognised it. Slightly. Like it was somewhere in the back of his mind, a constant nagging that this isn't healthy, and it's going to kill you. Yet again, Sora ignored it. And he kept it to himself.
A weight settled on his shoulders, holding him down, telling him not to say a word lest he burdened his soulmates. You're a knight, a voice would tell him—it sounded awfully like his own—and knights don't hurt.
The crimson burn of his cigarette burned into his veins. Sora felt it on the tip of his tongue, flaring up in his throat, and then he let it all out in a puff, staring at the way it twirled in the air, slowly dissipating. It had been a long time since he smoked— even longer since he had any intention of trying to stop.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," he whispered into the darkness. Sora stayed outside until the cigarette was almost finished, flicking it off the balcony. He didn't want his soulmates to see him, didn't want Tobio, of all people, worrying about him. Secrets were common for Sora. They lived within him, sheltered in his very being. He hated secrets, but what else could he do?
Stepping inside the apartment, Sora scanned the empty area. His soulmates were off living their lives, working to achieve their dreams— and where are you? What are you doing?
Nothing.
He bit his lip, drew it into his mouth and nibbled on the dry skin. It became red and raw, sensitive to the touch, with just an ounce of pain, but, once again, Sora ignored it. He had learnt from a young age to ignore things that shook his soul, tilted his world on its axis— it was his way of surviving. Reality was cruel, fate, too. Sora knew that there was no point in fighting against something so merciless. That fire that used to set his soul alight was gone. He had accepted his duty.
A knight. Flawless in every way.
Their apartment was no longer just that. It had become a home. For all six of them. Volleyballs laid all over— Sora had counted five this morning, when he bid his soulmates goodbye after making them a healthy and filling breakfast. The living room was decorated with Oikawa's endless alien plushies— endless was an exaggeration on Sora's part. There were three, each varying in size and colour; they sat against the beige couch, a stark contrast that brought a warm, homey feeling to their chests. On the loveseat in the corner, a knitted blanket laid— Iwaizumi's mother had gifted it to them when their families visited one summer day.
On the coffee table resided a bunch of university-level books— they were Kunimi's, no doubt. Only he would leave his things everywhere, and though it irritated Kindaichi to no end (he liked having everything neat and organised), they all knew he didn't mind that much. His exasperation was always wrapped in fondness. As long as you're studying, he'd say, I guess it's fine. But pack it up when you're done. Kunimi would smile and kiss his cheek. And things would be fine until the cycle repeated. On the walls were framed pictures, of them, of their families and friends. They were decorated with fairy lights— Kageyama had bought it one day. He had heard Oikawa say something about wanting more, so he went out and hung the lights up.
Safe to say, the younger setter was awarded the biggest cuddle ever.
Near the television was a section designated for Oikawa's huge CD rack. Kindaichi brought his games and movies from home, slotting them in alphabetical order. And in the kitchen, Iwaizumi brought his favourite pots and pans. Hiding in one of the cabinets resided their different and unique mugs.
Sora felt his lips curl upwards. It didn't seem very sincere. More like a resigned smile. He moved to the dining table, his laptop sitting in front of him, stacks of paper sprawled all over. Now that he was twenty one, Sora's parents were beginning his ascent to taking over their business. They started delegating their work to him, showing him the ropes and introducing him to the majority of their staff. They wanted him to be CEO one day, but Sora wasn't sure about it just yet. He was afraid to devote his time elsewhere— my soulmates are the only things that should matter to me right now. I need to look after them.
And what about yourself?
Sora blinked. Oh.
Don't you matter?
He sat down. Worked. Didn't stop working even when the minutes turned into hours. He worked until he couldn't anymore, because there wasn't anything else to do. The house was empty. His soulmates weren't here. They didn't need him, and he didn't have anything but them. Sora straightened his back, shook his head, and continued. His hands were sore from typing all day, and his fingers cramped.
It was darker outside, and Sora checked the time. Almost eight. His soulmates should be coming home soon.
"I still have a bit more," he told himself, clicking on the endless emails pouring into his inbox. He opened them, read their contents, and worked accordingly.
Stress circled his mind like a bad stench, making it hard to breathe. The weight of the world seemed to blanket him, as did the future. His actions had consequences. Sora didn't want to think about it. He clenched his jaw, squeezed his hands into fists. Stop thinking about it. He shut his eyes. Just stop.
The front door swung open.
Sora shot up straight. He pushed his emotions away and hid them from the cursed bond connecting him to five people.
Two pairs of footsteps echoed in the apartment. From the sound, Sora knew it was Oikawa and Kageyama. He recognised the way they walked— that, and there was only one person who'd complain about Ushijima.
"Ugh, I hate him! Everything about him! Who does he think he is to tell me my sets aren't right?!" Oikawa walked into the open-spaced living room, ditching his bag by the couch. He was dressed in a striking red and black attire with the Japanese flag plastered on the side.
"He's your teammate, Tooru," Kageyama told him, sounding like he had repeated it many times. He wasn't wearing the official Olympic training uniform—he wasn't on the official team just yet since he was still too young. "You have to give him the sets he wants."
"Yeah, I know that, but it still pisses me off!" Oikawa threw his hands in the air, irritated.
Kageyama sighed. He said, "I'm gonna go shower," and ignored the rest of his whiney soulmate's rant. Kageyama didn't say a word to Sora; he knew better than to distract the older male when he looked so focused. He simply kissed his head as he walked past.
Oikawa fell onto Sora's lap. His soulmate let him. He didn't say anything as Oikawa continued going off on a tangent; he just sat there, working, and enjoying the company. The smell of sweat reached his nose, and Sora scrunched it up. He disregarded it soon after, though. It wasn't the first time he smelled it. Definitely wouldn't be the last time, either.
"And do you know what he did today—" Oikawa blabbered out everything that pissed him off, all while the sound of fingers tapping against the keyboard echoed in the background. He swung his legs on either side of Sora, his chin laying on his shoulder when he deflated. Oikawa turned his head, pressed his ear against his chest, and listened to Sora's heartbeat. He quietened, breathing in and out. Sora smelled like ash and flames. Something thick and stingy. It filled his throat, clogged it— Oikawa thought he'd suffocate if he stayed closer. He didn't mind, really. Was willing to help filter his soulmate and clean him. Just 'cause he loved him.
Nosing the skin of his neck, Oikawa let his muscles relax, falling against Sora. He licked his lips and squirmed. He was still annoyed, and you know what the best remedy was?
Getting fucked.
His fingers slithered under Sora's shirt, and he pulled away to kiss his soulmate, chasing after his lips. He felt its smoothness and trailed his tongue along Sora's bottom lip, rolling his hips to meet his sensually.
"Tooru, I'm working," Sora mumbled, turning his head to look at his screen better.
Oikawa's hands reached upwards, cupping either side of his face. "Work later," he mumbled, bringing the elder's face closer. "Your soulmate needs attention. Now."
Sora exhaled, reluctant and exasperated. He needed to finish this important project before the deadline was due, but who was he if not putty in his soulmates' hands?
"Fine," he acquiesced. "But only for a bit, okay?"
"No promises," Oikawa sang, looping his arms around Sora's neck. "Fuck me."
"Tooru," he sighed.
"Sora," his soulmate whined. "Please." He rocked his hips against Sora's, his cock slowly rising. "I'm pissed off. Won't you help your soulmate calm down?" Oikawa fluttered his eyelashes prettily, and Sora cupped his face. He stroked his cheekbone with his thumb.
"How can I say no when you look like that?"
Smugly, Oikawa replied, "You can't. I know."
Dropping his hands to Oikawa's hips, Sora kissed him. It wasn't slow and tender like usual; their lips moved rapidly in wanton lust. His tongue slipped into the other's mouth as he pulled at Oikawa's bottom lip, tasting him.
A groan escaped Oikawa as Sora nipped him. His lips parted, and he let out a breathy gasp when Sora's hands gripped his sides and pulled him closer, dragging him until they were plastered together. He swallowed Oikawa's moans, every sort of sound he made— Sora took it all and devoured him.
"You taste so sweet, my love," he whispered against his lips. "Like peppermint."
"I had some gum in the car," Oikawa admitted, pulling him closer. He rolled his hips forward, grinding his erection into Sora's. Their lips met once again; Oikawa angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss.
Sora hummed, "Is that so." Desperation thundered through their bond, sweeping through with no hesitations. It came from Oikawa— Sora could feel it. He knew his soulmates' emotions like the back of his hand, knew what came from who. The need for air became too daunting to ignore. Sora pulled away, inhaling sharply. He licked his lips, watched as Oikawa's eyes fluttered closed, and a small whine escaped his parted lips. They were swollen and red, so beautiful, begging for more. Oikawa wanted more. No, Sora corrected himself; he needed more.
"Why'd you stop?" his soulmate asked, blinking up at him. Those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes were hazed over with lust.
Sora gave. He gave and gave.
And didn't ask for anything in return.
"What do you want first?" he mumbled, leaning his head forward and tracing the curve of Oikawa's ear with his tongue. He licked all the way to his lobe, catching it between his teeth and tugging softly.
"You," Oikawa replied. He tightened his grip around his neck, grounding their clothed cocks together. The friction of the fabrics sent shivers racing up the setter's spine. He groaned, throaty, "Fuck, I want you, Sora."
Sora chuckled softly. "I know that, baby," he said, slipping his hand under Oikawa's shirt and rubbing his back. His touch was gentle but not hesitant, like he had done this hundreds of times before. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Oikawa's head and continued, "But you have to be more precise."
"Can I suck you off?"
That surprised Sora. He pulled back. Raised his brows. "Don't you want me to fuck you?"
Oikawa shook his head. His head tilted to the side, and a beaming smile crossed his lips. "I want to pleasure you first." He nuzzled their cheeks together cutely. "It's only fair, right? To make up for my needy demands?"
"I guess." Sora didn't look convinced—his soulmate was putting the knight before the king; such a thing shouldn't happen—but he let him do as he pleased. With slight effort, Oikawa got off Sora's lap. The older male pushed the chair back, the scrapping sound light and ignored, as he made room for his soulmate to kneel before him. Sora nodded and gestured to his pants. "Go ahead."
Gingerly, Oikawa reached for his trousers, unbuttoning them. He leaned forward, flicked his eyes up, and bit the end of the zipper. He pulled it down with his teeth, all while staring up at his soulmate. The sight was beautiful. Oikawa could feel the desire leaking into the bond, the heady arousal, and he felt proud. He grinned wickedly, nosing his soulmate's cock. He poked out his tongue, licked a stripe from above his boxers, from the base of his cock to the tip. His saliva dampened the fabric, and Sora had to restrain a shiver as the air-conditioner blasted a cool breeze.
"You've gotten better," Sora praised, watching as Oikawa bit the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down. His soulmate hummed appreciatively when his cock slapped his cheek, licking his lips seductively.
"I've had lots of practice," Oikawa returned, grasping Sora's erection. He stroked it slightly, feeling him pulse within his grip. "Besides, we can't be the only ones who're needy, right?" Oikawa looked at him. His analytical gaze pierced through Sora. "You can ask, too. We'd do anything for you."
The words were too sweet and loving for Sora. His chest tightened— something didn't feel right. Don't say that to me. Please, I'm begging you. Don't fall more in love with me more than you already are. I'll le—
Sora noted, "I'll remember that."
"That's enough for me, then." And when Oikawa's lips enveloped the head of his cock, Sora let his head fall back with a moan. He circled his tongue around it, drawing his cheeks in and lightly sucking on it. Oikawa took his time to deepthroat Sora, pushing it down slowly, taking it all the way—until his tip met the back of his throat—and let it rest for a bit. He breathed from his nose, calming his heart and focusing on the task at hand.
Oikawa did his best to give his soulmate the best blowjob he'd ever had— he did it all the time, pushed himself harder to see if Sora could cum quicker. There was something about seeing Sora so vulnerable that made Oikawa feel closer to him, as if that mask his soulmate fronted had fallen like great castles.
He tugged at his piercing, sucking on it lightly. That always had Sora quivering above him, his thighs shaking from where they caged Oikawa's head. They looked so good, defined with muscles and veins that practically bulged out. Oikawa let Sora's cock slowly leave his mouth, forcing him to feel every bump and ridge of his throat, before pushing it back inside, repeating the process until he had a steady rhythm to work with.
"Tell me I give the best blowjobs," he teased, fingers wrapped around his cock.
"Want me to lie?"
Oikawa's eye twitched. He squeezed his cock, and Sora jerked back with a groan, hips stuttering upwards. He glared at his soulmate, narrowing his eyes. "Oi."
Batting his eyes innocently, Oikawa took his cock into his mouth again, bobbing up and down like a good cocksucker. Sora rested his hand on the back of his head, twirling his curls around his fingers. When Oikawa reached the base of his cock, Sora's grip tensed, and he held Oikawa there, feeling him yelp at the unexpected barricade. He gagged around his cock, his throat muscles spasming all around him; it made Sora groan, and he bucked his hips upwards as a warning. He let go of Oikawa and watched with amusement as he coughed and spluttered all over the floor, saliva dribbling out of his mouth.
"Hey!"
Sora gave him the same treatment he received, smiling fakely and batting his eyes.
Oikawa pouted. "That wasn't nice."
"Exactly." He gripped his chin, leant forward, elbows on his knees. "See, Tooru, only good boys get rewards. Bad boys get punished. Which act do you wanna play today?" He pushed his face to his erection, rubbing his cock against his cheek and slathering his precum all over his skin. The wet shine had Sora gleaming with pride. "Want me to fuck you so bad you gotta miss practice tomorrow? Or do you want me to be gentle and kiss you all over, huh, baby? Which will it be?"
"Do I get a choice?" he asked, looking up.
"Since you distracted me from my work, I wanna say no. But–" Sora patted Oikawa's cheek condescendingly–"since you're also annoyed, I'll allow you to choose."
"Then, I want to be a good boy."
"Alright," Sora sounded. "Well, if my baby boy gets me off, I'll give him a reward."
Dutifully, Oikawa got to work to pleasure his soulmate as best as he could. The faint sound of the shower waltzed in from the bedroom—the door was open. As a person fearing abandonment and loneliness, Kageyama usually kept the doors open. He liked to hear everything that happened in the house, not because he was nosy, no; Kageyama simply wanted to know that his soulmates were here, in their home, with him. Luckily, his soulmates understood and accepted him, accepted each other's quirks and differences.
They helped each other, even when they didn't know how to. Especially then.
Too bad Sora wasn't looking for help. Didn't think he needed help. Well, he did. Sometimes. But he wasn't about to burden his soulmates. Not when he had to be a knight.
Sad, isn't it? Even after all these years, some things just don't change. Old habits die hard.
The front entrance was opened. From the footsteps— Kunimi, Sora noted. He leaned back and turned his head to the side, watching as his soulmate didn't even bat an eye when he spotted Oikawa sucking off. Instead, he walked to them, dropping his bag by the couch, right next to Oikawa's, and dropped to his knees right beside him.
"Move over," he demanded.
Sora placed his other hand on Kunimi's head, combing his hair and curling the strands around his fingers. "How was your day?"
"Boring," Kunimi answered, peppering kisses all over his left thigh. He wanted to leave his marks, too. "The lectures are so bland."
"Did you note everything down?"
"Yeah," he said reluctantly. "They're in my bag."
"Good boy," Sora complimented. And, oh, if that didn't do things to Kunimi. His heart fluttered in his chest, and butterflies settled in his stomach. With careful hands, Kunimi helped Oikawa pleasure Sora. He mouthed at the skin on Sora's legs, hands grasping his balls and fondling them gently. He played with them in his hands, massaging them just the way Sora liked it. Oikawa kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to speak up— he was meant to be a good boy, and that meant no sassy remarks. So, instead, Oikawa turned to Kunimi and captured his lips in a kiss.
"Welcome home," he whispered.
Kunimi smiled, subtle. "I'm home."
Working in unison, the two soulmates took turns sucking Sora's dick, rubbing him and urging out more precum. Kunimi littered hickeys all over Sora, close to his crotch, just so the sensitivity would hike up his orgasm. His eyes flitted upwards, seeing Sora watching them intensely. He still had his hands on their heads, leaving it there, a reassuring weight that they were doing okay.
He looked for permission and, with a single nod from the older male, sunk his teeth into his inner thigh. Sora hissed. He stilled his legs, feeling Kunimi pull away and lap at the wound tenderly. He pulsed in their hands.
"I'm gonna cum," he warned, fisting their hair. "Where do you want it?"
They shared a glance.
"Mouth?" Kunimi suggested.
Oikawa nodded. "Mouth."
They turned to Sora, and he dropped his head back, clamping down on his bottom lip as euphoria struck him. His soulmates helped him tip off the edge, kissing his cock, tonguing his veins and sucking the head. The pleasure took hold of him with an iron fist, and that knot in his stomach snapped. Sora came. His soulmates opened their mouths. They guided his cock and took everything.
When the feelings of lust died down, clearing his mind of his orgasm, Sora lifted his head. He poked his tongue out and licked the sides of his lips, his throat suddenly dry.
He placed his thumbs to their bottom lips.
"Open," he commanded.
What a sight. When they opened their mouths, Sora saw how they had collected his cum and let it sit on their tongues. It glistened inside, all shiny and wet and warm. Sora hummed, satisfied they remembered.
"Well done. Swallow it." They did so. Sora watched as Kunimi grabbed hold of Oikawa's chin and yanked him close. Their lips met, and their tongues curled around each other. They mapped out the surface of their mouths, licking each other clean like usual. It made Sora smirk. Those two were by far the kinkiest. "Shall we head to the bed?"
"Yes, please."
Sora stood up from his seat. He extended his hands and helped Kunimi and Oikawa. They walked over to the large bedroom, each of his soulmates latched onto his arms. Stepping through the door, Sora said, "Go put on something pretty for me. I'm gonna wash up."
With a nod, they complied, walking over to their massive closet and opening it up.
During that time, Sora entered the bathroom and spotted Kageyama still in the shower, the water rolling off his body like refracted crystals. He stripped himself of his clothes and stepped inside, sliding the glass door open and walking in. "Hey, baby," he greeted, plastering his chest against his back. He kissed his neck softly. "Want me to help you?"
Kageyama made a sound in the back of his throat, turning in his arms. "I think I should be the one helping you out, hm?"
"Oh?" he teased. "Did you hear us?"
"You're not exactly quiet."
"Is that so," Sora laughed quietly. He grabbed the loofa and washed his soulmate's body gently, washing away all the sweat and grime from his training. "Want to join us?"
Kageyama shook his head. "I think I'll sit this one out," he answered.
"Tired?"
"A little bit."
Sora could only nod. He lowered his head and kissed his lips. "Then, go rest. After we're done, I'll make dinner. Sound alright?"
Kageyama smiled against him, feeling his heart beat in his chest. "Sounds perfect."
Moments like these were something Kageyama cherished. When it was just him and Sora, alone, left to their own devices. It felt like the past. The days when Sora took care of him with utmost care. Nowadays, Kageyama kept up with him. He had learned how to apply a fifty-fifty ideology to his life, and, thus, matched whatever Sora did. Like when they stepped out of the shower, Sora dried his hair; Kageyama dried his, in turn.
The mature setter returned everything that was given to him. But that simple act, for some strange, odd reason, didn't make Sora's heart swell like it used to. Rather, it made the glorious knight feel scared. Nervous, if he was allowed to feel such a thing.
He doesn't need you anymore.
Stop.
None of them need you. They're only putting up with you because—
Please, I beg. Just stop.
Kageyama put on his pyjamas; Sora did not. They walked out of the bathroom, and the scene in front of them had them stifling their laughter. Oikawa and Kunimi were lying on the bed, the latter straddling Oikawa's waist. They were making out heatedly, Sora noted, holding each other's faces tantalisingly.
"Enjoy," Kageyama called as he left the bedroom, making sure to shut the door behind him. He would rather not hear things when he knew he would already feel it.
Oikawa and Kunimi jerked apart, eyes widening. They whipped their heads to the side and saw Sora, and he noticed with great enjoyment how they paled. "S-Sora."
Their soulmate smirked, crossing his arms and walking to them. "I don't recall giving you two permission to start without me."
"We were just warming up," Oikawa spoke nervously, pulling an excuse out of his ass.
"Really?" Sora tilted his head. "And who said you could?"
Like puppies that knew they disobeyed their master, they both lowered their heads and mumbled, "Nobody. We're sorry."
"I'll let it go just this once. Only because you both look very pretty." Delicious, was what Sora didn't add. Oikawa had on a pair of silk underwear, the lavender colour a stark contrast to his slightly tanned skin. Over it was a black, frilly harness, holding up the tights decorating his legs. Kunimi wore a similar attire— the only difference was that his was darker. "I'm glad to see the gifts fit."
He strode over to the bed, his cock pressed proudly against his abdomen. The sight of his two vixens had his erection coming back at full speed— but could you blame him? Kunimi and Oikawa looked heavenly.
When the bed dipped, his soulmates rose, attempting to sit by him. Sora held out a hand, and they instantly froze. "No. Stay there. I think I want to see the rest of your warm-up." They swallowed nervously as Sora placed his hands behind him, leaning his weight onto the bed and crinkling the sheets.
He gestured to them. "Go on."
Lips met lips. Teeth clanked together as the slow "warm-up" gradually progressed like gasoline poured over a lit fire. Their hands travelled all over their bodies. Oikawa's hands ventured to Kunimi's ass, following the swoop of his back and reaching the bubble of muscles. His fingertips grazed the skin, then dug into it, gripping all that they could, all while he and Kunimi kissed. He kneaded his ass, but didn't dare slip his hand inside Kunimi's underwear. Sora only gave them so much lenience, and Oikawa would much rather prefer to be able to walk tomorrow.
Once he saw how hard Oikawa and Kunimi had gotten, their erections threatening to spill out of their lingeries, Sora made his way over. He kneeled on the bed and shuffled to Kunimi, slotting himself behind the younger male. With his index finger, Sora guided his face to him, forcing Kunimi to lean back onto him. He lowered his head, met his lips and kissed him passionately, moving against him like the waves of a trembling ocean.
With his other hand, Sora trailed it down Kunimi's chest, over his harness and panties. He brushed a finger against his aching cock, feeling the dampness at the tip. Sora's hand travelled lower, reaching Oikawa's erection and giving it the same treatment. He felt his soulmate buck underneath them.
"What d'ya guys want today?" he questioned lowly. "Want me to fuck you both on your knees? In front? On top of each other?"
"On top," Kunimi panted, his body layered with a shine of sweat.
Sora looked ahead. "That okay with you, Tooru?"
Oikawa nodded, and that was all Sora needed. He placed his hands on Kunimi's hips, tilting him forward. "Are you both prepped?"
"I did it with Tobio-chan in the locker room," Oikawa admitted sheepishly. At his words, Sora felt amusement thrum through his veins. He raised his brows, and his lips curled.
"And you still want more? How greedy, Tooru," he teased. His fingers grazed the jut of Kunimi's hipbones. "What about you, baby? Did you do it today, too?"
Kunimi averted his gaze. "With Yuu," he mumbled. "During lunch."
Sora barked out a laugh. "I don't know why I'm so surprised. My soulmates are really sluts, aren't they? A couple of whores, right?"
They blushed, dusted in pink and heat. So, so pretty. Sora hooked one finger around the base of Kunimi's panties, sliding it to the side. He used his other hand to do the same for Oikawa. Then, he pushed Kunimi forward, hearing him fall against Oikawa's chest and moan as their nipples brushed together. He leant back and saw how cute their holes looked, one above the other, red and gaping.
The sight made him chuckle.
Taking two fingers from each hand, Sora slowly pushed them inside his soulmates for good measure, feeling around to check if they'd be able to take him. Sora was by far the largest out of his soulmates— it was a feat he boasted proudly, always one to degrade his soulmates when they wanted it. Only then.
"Everything seems alright," he informed, pulling out. He looked at them both, seeing them pant with anticipation. "Let me know if it hurts, okay? Or if you're not comfortable."
"Okay," they said together.
Sora grabbed his cock and pressed it against Oikawa. He dragged his tip up and down the setter's hole, teasing him just a bit. He caught sight of how Oikawa's breath hitched, and just when he relaxed a little, Sora pushed inside. Oikawa moaned, something low yet whiney. The stretch felt pleasurable, his head falling back against the multitude of pillows they had lying around on the bed. Oikawa fell lax against the sheets, fingers reaching beside him and gripping the fabric in his fists.
Kunimi inched forwards, reaching to nip at his neck. He sucked hickeys along Oikawa's collarbones—it was his favourite spot on each of his soulmates, aside from their dicks, of course. As he did that, Sora slowly thrusted in and out, in and out, easing his soulmate's tension. His walls fluttered against his cock with each push and pull, and when he deemed himself satisfied, Sora pulled out. He re-positioned his cock, entered Kunimi, taking it slow and steady. He felt Kunimi jerk forward at the sudden penetration, groaning.
"Feel okay?" he inquired quietly.
"It feels so good," Kunimi affirmed. "Keep going."
Sora took his time fucking both of them. He analysed how they rutted against each other, their clothed cocks sliding against each other—if the wet squelches he was hearing were anything to go by. They rocked their hips slowly, and Sora let them. He was too busy pleasuring them from the back anyway. He fucked them, one after the other, picked up his pace, knew when to pull back to edge them, when to keep going to rile them up.
Time seemed to tick by. They were immersed in their own world. "Please, Sora," Oikawa begged, tears threatening to spill down his rosy cheeks. "I need to cum. Can I?"
"Do you think you can hold out a bit longer?" Oikawa shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip. "What about you, Akira?"
"Maybe a bit longer," Kunimi moaned. "But I don't know."
Sora grunted, bucking his hips upwards. "All right. Cum when you want." Feeling his soulmate enter, then leave drove Oikawa crazy. He was impatient, blabbering endless words for Sora to give and give and give— Sora gave. He forgot himself and gave his soulmates everything he could offer, regardless of his mental state or physical capacities. Sora would make the impossible happen, all because his soulmates asked.
Veils of white painted Oikawa's underwear, drenching the front with his cum. The setter felt himself shiver when Kunimi's cock continued to rub against him; the feeling of the fabric dragging against his sensitive cock had his jaw falling slack, drool slipping out.
Kunimi yelped when the tip of Sora's cock found his prostate. His soulmate pounded into him relentlessly. His body shook with the force of Sora's thrusts, and his arms gave out, completely letting Oikawa handle his body weight. It wasn't long before Kunimi spilt his seed inside his navy blue panties, soaking it.
Sora's cock slipped out of him.
He fisted the base, gave it a few pumps, all while watching his soulmates attempt to return to the ground from their high.
"Good boys," he praised sweetly. He jerked himself off, cumming all over Kunimi's back. Sora looked down at the mess. "I probably shouldn't have showered earlier."
Oikawa looked over Kunimi's shoulder, giving a tired smile and a suggestive expression.
He wiggled his brows. "Round two in the shower?"
"Want to walk tomorrow?" Oikawa nodded. "Then, no. We can save it for the weekend."
Sora straightened his back, shakily getting off the bed. "Let me help you both." His arms found themselves at home around their waists. Sora supported them as he directed them to the bathroom. The three took their time to wash each other, standing under the pouring water and kissing slowly, softly. Kunimi and Oikawa drowned him with their adoration, pushing it through their bond. Sora smiled. Felt his cheeks almost tear.
Still, there was an itch under his skin— a tightness of his ribcage.
You need to step away.
His mind was foggy—
You're overwhelmed.
"Stay by us, Sora," Oikawa muttered against his neck. "Stay with us as you are."
"I—"
Get away.
"Wouldn't—"
Please.
"Dream—"
You need to leave.
"Of—"
Please. I implore you.
"Anything—"
Leave. Come back when you're okay.
"—else."
Getting out of the shower took no less than ten minutes. Sora helped his soulmates get dressed, and in turn, they sat him down on the toilet seat and blow-dried his hair.
"Are you going to cut it soon?" Kunimi wondered idly, running a comb through the long strands. They were soft to the touch, like silk, the finest quality. He loved his hair the most, liked how Sora let them style it.
Sora hummed, "I haven't thought about it. Should I?"
"I like it long," Oikawa interjected. He leant down and pecked his lips. "Suits you."
Sora smiled against him.
They bounded out of the room in fresh, new pyjamas. In the living room, they saw Kindaichi and Iwaizumi on the couch.
"Done?" Iwaizumi wondered, looking over at them with an entertained smile.
"Iwa-chan! Yuu-chan!" Oikawa beamed, bounding up to them. "When'd you both get home?" He threw his hands around their necks, kissing the top of their heads before making his way over to Kageyama, who was sitting on the loveseat. He plopped into the space beside him, throwing a leg over him and drawing him closer into his embrace.
"Ten minutes ago or something."
"How was work?" Kunimi asked, walking over. He dropped into Iwaizumi's lap and put his legs on Kindaichi's. Kindaichi rubbed his hand along his legs, up to his knee and down.
"It was fine. Nothing eventful, really," Iwaizumi answered. Sora joined them, a towel lying on his shoulders. He ruffled their hair.
"Want anything in particular for dinner?"
Iwaizumi frowned. "Are you making?"
"Mhm."
"Don't you want to rest?" he wondered. "You've been working all day." Iwaizumi nodded over to the desk, indicating how the papers seemed to have just piled up from when they all first left in the morning.
"It's fine," Sora brushed off.
Kindaichi shook his head. "We'll just order food," he said. He patted the space beside him. "Come sit down and relax." And not one to deny his soulmates anything, Sora smiled, giving in. He sat beside him, and Kindaichi curled into him, looping their arms together.
Oikawa scrolled through his phone. He inquired, "Should we get pizza?"
"Only if you get me some pasta," Kunimi chimed.
"That's a given, Akira-chan."
And so, they sat, enjoying each other's company, the television on in the background. Sora combed his fingers through Kindaichi's hair, and the boy relaxed against him. When the food came, they ate, talking about their days and whatnot. It was a lovely night. A normal occurrence in their home.
Still, something didn't feel right.
If they had to describe it, they'd say it was something like the calm before the storm.