captainbirdbrain | [LOG] Bird boys

[LOG] Bird boys

WHO: Bokuto and Tsukishima
WHERE: Shinzen High School
WHEN: Summer training camp
WARNINGS: Weird genitals, eggs

BACKGROUND:

AU where humans adopt characteristics of their school mascots upon entering high school. People can assume slightly more animalistic forms under certain conditions (eg cat ears, bird wings) and also have genitals more akin to that of animals. Bokuto usually has reflective eyes (and consequently great night vision) even when in his most 'human' shape.

Most people (of any gender) are able to lay eggs, which are normally unfertilized and can be safely sold or disposed of.

In this scenario, the summer training camp lasts maybe 1.5 or 2 weeks, rather than five days.

Bokuto doesn't get the stuff Kuroo and Akaashi say sometimes. What do they mean, he's got all the tact of a bag of hammers? All he did was ask Megane-kun if he'd laid an egg before, a perfectly reasonable question from one avian to another, and definitely not the sort of thing for Skinny to get all flustered and run off about. Besides, you can use hammers to nail down tacks, Bokuto is pretty sure that is a thing.

Kuroo and Akaashi didn't seem to accept that explanation, though, so here Bokuto is, wandering around the outside walkways looking to see where Tsukishima had skulked off to. The first year had made some excuse about it being "late" and how he "would like to have dinner" but that was a pretty sucky reason not to block his spikes for another hour, so Bokuto didn't really believe it.

"Oi! Tsukki!" Bokuto calls into the evening air, sounding more than a little like a fledgling that's fallen prematurely out of the nest. "Come back and block the ball more! I'm not tired yet!"

(Akaashi had said something about Bokuto needing to apologize to Tsukishima but honestly the Fukurodani captain hadn't understood that part either.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Owls are the ones who can only intake one type of food. So particular. What do they do when they can't find any meat? Being able to eat anything is obviously more advantageous. And besides, who said anything about "little"? Tsukishima might not have as freakishly large an appetite as Noya, for instance, but he eats plenty of meat.

He goes to tell Bokuto so, but before he can, the other boy says something about being lost.

And then puts his arm around Tsukishima's waist like Tsukishima is his girlfriend or something.

Tsukishima stiffens. Even though he's the taller one, Bokuto's presence, his girth, are so much bigger than Tsukishima's that he feels... diminished, somehow, when he stands close to him like this.

He thankfully latches on to the fact that Bokuto has managed to get them lost, even though they'd only been walking for a few minutes.

"I thought you knew where you were going," he sneers. "Didn't you come from the gym? All you had to do was backtrack."

At least he knows where they are. Nobody seems to come back here, and he'd squeezed a few minutes of alone time here after lunch, flopped on the grass, listening to music, and -

"Huh. I think I might have left something here earlier, actually."

He steps out of Bokuto's hold and sets out towards one side of the shed.

If Bokuto were privy to Tsukishima's assessment on his diet, he'd retort that the first year vastly underestimates the variety of meats out there. Kuroo was even telling him recently there are things called 'vegan' meat, but that's probably just something he came up with to pull Bokuto's leg.

Anyway, before Bokuto can raise a word in his defense for driving them to the far end of campus in the middle of the night, Tsukishima slips out of his arm and is busy inspecting... something. Over by the shed. Which is silly, because even if he didn't have those big glasses, crows are diurnal, duh.

"What's up?" Bokuto asks, too loudly, stomping over into the grass after him. "Want me to spot somethin' for ya? Wouldn't want you to go straining your eyes out, hah."

Ah, right. He's with an owl. If Bokuto's offering to help, that would be much better than squinting in the dark, trying to discern what he's looking for in the grass.

"I think I left a book here earlier. See anything like that?"

Maybe this wouldn't be a waste of time after all. And maybe, if he's lucky, Bokuto will forget about practicing-- nah, he can hardly hope for that. At least if they're spending time being lost, they aren't playing more volleyball.

"A book?" Bokuto repeats, sounding vaguely disappointed. Well, the megane-kun was a poindexter, after all...

Sighing and hitching up his shorts, he squats down and starts scanning the tall grass. Apparently, the school groundskeeper has the week off while the campus is on summer break, so an already-neglected area like the back of this supply shed was allowed to overrun. He sifts through a spray of tall, dried-out grass blades, looking for anything sufficiently square in shape and subject matter that it might belong to Tsukki.

"Who goes on a summer training camp and freaking brings something to read? You're one of those kids who actually does his summer homework, aren't you..."

He spies something with a glossy blue cover near the wall of the shed and leans forward, causing the fabric of his shorts to hitch even higher around his hips. A band of pale skin peeks through between where the shorts end and his extra-long kneepads begin.

Bokuto's disappointed tone irks Tsukishima a little, but at least he's being helpful. Given the dark and the long grass, Tsukishima would probably have to resort to getting on his hands and knees to look, maybe feeling with his hands. He doesn't really have a hope of distinguishing any objects hidden in the grass otherwise.

"Obviously," he responds when Bokuto starts needling him. "And you're probably the type who lets it pile up until the last minute." Like quite a few other people he knows. "I'm not going to let something as insignificant as a club get in the way of--"

He swallows, letting his sentence come to an abrupt, awkward halt. His eyesight isn't so bad that he doesn't notice the swath of skin that's exposed with Bokuto's movement. It's the same distracting sight that stole his attention whenever he happened to see Fukurodani playing a match; sometimes he even noticed it when they were playing against Karasuno.

Bokuto has really nice legs.

If this were brought to his attention, Bokuto would be inclined to say yes, they are nice legs. But it's a pride based on accomplishment, not an awareness of his appearance. Of course they're nice legs; he worked really hard on them. The notion that anyone might be attracted to them would never occur to him at all.

Which is funny, because lying beneath the surface of Bokuto's persistent interest in the other avian are some definitely-not-platonic thoughts. But as an act of seduction, the Fukurodani captain would never even consider showing off his thighs was an option.

If he did maybe this whole thing would be going better.

Bokuto plucks the oblong object out of the tall grass and holds it up into the moonlight.

"Seriously," he says to the first year, "they got you reading poetry?"

"You don't have to read poetry?" Tsukishima shoots back.

His admiration of Bokuto's legs quickly combines with more annoyance at the avian they're attached to. Honestly, it's pretty standard fare for any decent literature curriculum. Either Fukurodani's literature classes are lacking, or Bokuto had only paid attention to what he deems "the good bits", again. Somehow, Tsukishima thinks the latter is more likely.

This particular book has nothing to do with any of his classes or summer homework, though, even though he's let the other boy assume as much. He does make a point to keep up with his holiday assignments, and he has brought some along to the camp, it's just. This specific book is not for that. This is something he'd picked up to read for pleasure.

He hardly wants Bokuto to know that. He's had enough of being made fun of for one evening.

He recalls the poems he'd read that afternoon. Quite a few of them are obviously not suited for the classroom. Too dark, too romantic. A couple of them are decidedly more... sensual in nature.

Yeah, he definitely doesn't want Bokuto reading this on the off chance he randomly decides to change his ways and actually open a book for once.

"Thanks for finding it, I'll have it back now."

He steps forward to reach for it.

Edited 2016-02-15 06:50 (UTC)

It's less the fact that Tsukki's got a poetry book and more that a public high school like Karasuno is assigning stuff like this to its first years. Maybe he's in the advanced class? Bokuto, by contrast, has coasted by the last three years on make-up exams (and occasional backbreaking cram sessions under Akaashi), so he can't even imagine the fuss of reading for pleasure. Pleasure, for him, comes in two forms: on the court and between his legs. Oh, and eating meat, that was usually pretty nice.

But, being the stubborn overgrown child that he is, Bokuto sees the shifty glances Tsukishima is making and decides he ought to take one little peek into this book, before turning it over to him. Drawing it closer to his chest, out of reach, Bokuto flips it open to the page Tsukishima had last bookmarked. He starts reading aloud, another side benefit of not needing an awful lot of light to see.

"'Bit the flesh of his palm'... 'a roiling heat in his chest'... 'fruit of his loins'-- what the hell're they makin' you read over there in the sticks, Tsukki?" Bokuto asks, his eyes gleaming with sudden interest. So this is the kind of thing the uptight first year likes to read when he's alone. Oh ho ho...

Tsukishima makes a strangled sort of noise but quickly swallows it. Of all the pages Bokuto had to flip to, why did it have to be that one?! He's starting to regret ever giving in to impulse and buying this book in the first place. (Okay, that's a lie. It might be a little trashy, but he'd been enjoying it. Particularly the poem Bokuto had happened to land on, but Bokuto isn't going to find that out if he can help it.)

"It's artistic," he bites out, which isn't true by a long shot. "Not that I'd expect you to understand that. You probably couldn't recognize a good poem if it hit you in the face." This is embarrassing, and Tsukishima deals with embarrassment the same way he deals with everything else that's unpleasant or mildly inconvenient - by being an asshole about it.

He has to get the book back before Bokuto reads any more. He stumbles forwards into Bokuto's side, getting into Bokuto's space and trying to grab the book from him.

"Give it back."

If he wasn't so flustered, he probably would have factored in that #1 Bokuto is obviously stronger than him and #2 Bokuto has great night vision while he can barely see anything. Clearly this is an excellent course of action.

There is also #3 Bokuto is a giant baby and, like most babies, is occasionally predisposed to being a bully, whether he intends it or not. So his natural response to Tsukishima all but colliding with him demanding his smutty poetry book back is to half-turn, holding the book out of reach with one arm and stalling the first year with the rest of his body.

Which, effectively, means Bokuto sticks his thigh between Tsukki's legs and applies some friction.

It's totally accidental.

"Calm down, it's not like it's going anywhere," Bokuto laughs, really soaking up the sight of this new flustered Tsukishima. Reading porn on a school trip and then getting all huffy about getting found out, this kid really did need to loosen up... How lucky for him to have a capable third year around to be his wise teacher~

Edited 2016-02-16 18:28 (UTC)

This cannot be happening.

Tsukishima's momentum propels him forward so that he basically runs into Bokuto, slamming into the wall of muscle that is Bokuto's body and grinding against his thigh when the other boy moves. He sucks in a sharp gasp. Warmth pools between his legs from the single moment of friction alone, and it's all he can do not to instinctively grind forwards again.

His face is warm, too. He must be blushing. Great.

Some people would suspect Bokuto of having done this on purpose, but Tsukishima is naive enough that he doesn't even consider it. That he's reacting like this because of an accident just embarrasses him even more.

He'd pull away, but he's afraid that any movement will make him rub against Bokuto again, so he just sort of freezes. He does, however, wordlessly reach up and pluck the book out of Bokuto's hands. (What would he do without his height.)

He doesn't meet Bokuto's eyes, but there's no way Bokuto could have missed his reaction.

Oho? Oho ho?

"Well, that's interesting," says Bokuto, relinquishing the book without a fuss this time. Now that Tsukishima's this close, the Fukurodani captain has access to a wealth of information, every little twitch of his features and yes, the rush of blood to his cheeks. (Even his ears are blushing. Cute.) Most telling is how Tsukki isn't moving away, now that he has what he's after -- he's just staying in Bokuto's personal space, awkwardly straddling his thigh as though waiting for Bokuto to do it again.

Bokuto isn't that much of a bully, thankfully. In fact, he makes an effort just then to be downright gentlemanly, not even touching a hand to one narrow hip until he's sure they've gotten themselves on the same wavelength here.

"Hey, megane-kun," he says, voice dropping down near an intimate murmur. Their cheeks are almost brushing as it is, the slight height differential between them mattering very little at this angle. "Wanna get each other off?"

Tsukishima smells excellent up close, and Bokuto just knows a round of sex or two will loosen him up in exactly the way he needs. It's not all that different from a regular warmup anyway, it just feels better at the end.

Edited 2016-02-17 16:14 (UTC)

If Bokuto had been flirting with Tsukishima before, while he was blocking for the third year or woven in among the ribbing he'd been subjected to over the last few minutes, Tsukishima hasn't noticed. He's too used to "flirting" meaning awkward confessions from girls his age, given along with carefully penned letters and nervous glances. He hasn't considered the possibility that any boy would be into him. (Well. Aside from Yamaguchi.)

Which is why Bokuto's blunt proposal seems so sudden and out of the blue that Tsukishima feels as though they'd skipped a step or ten and landed in a completely different conversation than they were having earlier - even though he's still perched on Bokuto's thigh like he's waiting for a chance to ride it, and he can feel himself getting wet from the brief moment of hard friction alone.

He backs up, but doesn't get out of Bokuto's space. He can smell Bokuto like this - he smells like sweat and grass, maybe earth, but it's not unpleasant. If he turned his face just a little, they'd be able to kiss.

Everything he'd been feeling about Bokuto earlier slots together like a solution to a puzzle - he's attracted to Bokuto. Oh.

A million other questions are buzzing through his head - why him, why now, Bokuto is into guys?, Bokuto is into him? - but the one he ends up blurting out is - "You want to do that here?"

He meant to come off as indignant, but instead he just sounds breathless. If he didn't look like a naive kid before, he definitely does now. And uptight. Still uptight. If Bokuto is up to the task of fucking that out of him he'd better have energy to spare, because it's going to take more than a few rounds, that's for sure.

Edited 2016-02-18 05:53 (UTC)

Bokuto doesn't flirt, not with any degree of competency at least, but he also doesn't waste time. All the fascination and animal impulses that had been lurking under the surface while near Tsukishima coalesced and emerged as fully-formed, deliberate thought once the first year was squirming against his thigh.

Poor Tsukki though, he looks like his heart is about to leap right out of his throat, and all Bokuto did is suggest a fuck. A definite newcomer to the sport, it seems.

Bokuto flashes him a brilliant grin, intending it to be confidence-inspiring.

"Why not?" he answers, and to illustrate his point gives the door to the storage shed beside him a light push with his knuckles. That's all it takes for the latch to come free, as he expected upon seeing how the thing was leaning before. If the groundskeeper couldn't be bothered to keep the grounds on this part of the campus it was a good bet he wasn't great at locking up either.

"...You're new at it, right? I'm not gonna force ya--" Maybe it's unnecessary to say as much, but Bokuto is at least a little cognizant of the power differential here. "--But if it's something you wanna learn, I'm a hell of a good teacher. And I don't got a big dick with spines on it like Kuroo does."

Just in case that's something Tsukishima was worried about.

Bokuto's grin ends up reading more as predatory, and Tsukishima looks at him much like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. (He can't suppress a shudder when Bokuto mentions Kuroo's spiny cat dick. That sounds painful.)

It's no wonder that even someone as oblivious as Bokuto has noticed that Tsukishima doesn't have any experience. Aside from a little kissing, anyway. And it's not making out or messing around that Bokuto is proposing, it's. Getting each other off. Tsukishima considers asking not to go all the way, but that would be pathetic, wouldn't it?

...And it isn't that he doesn't want to do it. There are just dozens of reasons why he shouldn't: there's no way Bokuto will be able to keep this a secret afterwards; Tsukishima is completely out of his element and has no idea what he's doing, which he hates; they're in a public place...

He surreptitiously checks the other boy out again while he's propositioning him. This is awful. He wants to do this so badly. When will he get a chance like this again? It's not like he'd ever approach Bokuto himself, and considering Bokuto's flighty nature, he could easily change his mind about the idea within a day. And at least this way Tsukishima can point at Bokuto as being the one who'd started it.

He swallows.

"Sure," he says, trying to compose himself and play this off like it's no big deal. "If you're so eager to teach me, let's get on with it."

Decision made, he strides forwards, past Bokuto and into the shed.

This kind of feels like the other night when Kuroo baited Tsukki into the gym for the first time. Actually, Bokuto almost feels like giving someone a thumbs up as the first year strides inside, but there's no one to actually give a thumbs up to in this case, so Bokuto just shrugs and gives himself a mental one instead. Hey, at least the kid's inside.

And if Tsukishima is worried that Bokuto might end up capriciously changing his mind, the same is true vice-versa. He wouldn't really fault Tsukki if he chickened out -- okay, he might tease him a little, but in general he wouldn't fault him -- but there sure are a lot of opportunities for him to do so here.

Like, oh, say, the part where Bokuto closes the shed door behind them, leaving them in almost total darkness. Bokuto barely notices the difference himself, pupils blown wide as they are, but he can immediately tell Tsukishima is now almost totally blind. Which would be fine if they were out in the field, where at worst he could trip on a rock and eat dirt, but here with a bunch of P.E. equipment and gardening tools, it's a little--

"Watch out!"

The Fukurodani captain darts forward, seeing Tsukishima treading too close to a rake leaned precariously against a low tool cabinet. There's not even a sure chance Tsukki would have run into it, but Bokuto acts without thinking, wrapping both arms around the kid's waist to stop him in his tracks.

(Huh. Warm, Bokuto thinks, as though it hadn't occurred to him before now.)

Maybe it's a good thing Tsukishima can't see at all, because if he could then he'd see the fine layer of dust covering everything and the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling like streamers. (Either this shed is no longer really being used, or the groundkeeper is taking a particularly long vacation.) Excellent place for one's first time - not that Tsukishima puts any stock in such an arbitrary social construct as virginity.

The dark is more than a little deterring, though. For some reason Tsukishima was expecting windows. The moon would have provided enough light for him to at least see where he was going and pick out larger objects, but it's impossible for him to see anything like this. And the idea of Bokuto needing to lead and maneuver him around... he already feels vulnerable enough without that.

But before he can voice his concern, Bokuto is calling out a warning and catching him around the waist. Tsukishima yells in surprise, grabbing hold of Bokuto's arm in an automatic reaction. Now they're pressed together again, their bodies flush against each other.

Tsukishima feels his heart rate start to speed up and abruptly decides that he's had quite enough of this.

"Was there actually anything there to be careful of, or did you just want to grab me? Did you bring me in here to - " he only hesitates for a second " - get off, or not?"

He turns around in Bokuto's hold, reaches out towards where he thinks Bokuto's face is, cups his cheeks, and kisses him.

...Calling it a kiss is being a little too generous. He bumps their lips together after almost missing Bokuto's mouth, and his glasses frame awkwardly pokes into Bokuto's face.

Hey, just because Tsukishima's kissed before doesn't mean he's done it enough to be any good at it. Especially when it's too goddamn dark for him to see what the hell he's doing.

Edited 2016-02-19 13:09 (UTC)

Bold words -- and a bolder response -- for someone who could have just had a face full of rake handle, Bokuto thinks. Still, he's not too fussed. He has the skinny blond twisting in his embrace and bumping noses with him now, lips connecting awkwardly with Bokuto's own with such conviction that it's charming.

It reminds him of Akaashi, actually, although not in a way that might make any sense to a third party. Akaashi is effortlessly graceful and precise, whereas Tsukishima clearly has some growing to do in that area... but a bit of confidence goes a long way when it comes to fumbling in a dark tool shed, in Bokuto's experience.

Bokuto makes an agreeable noise against Tsukki's mouth, tilting his head to avoid another jab from his glasses while aligning their lips for a better kiss. Not that he's actually some Casanova when it comes to kissing either -- Bokuto likes to lick and nibble and suck, his tongue lapping over Tsukishima's neat front row of teeth in eager fascination.

He loosens the arms he has wrapped around the first year's waist and moves to grabbing him by his hips instead, pushing him back just-so to shove his ass against the edge of the workbench. His thumbs run over lean muscle and the corners of the blond's pelvis, enjoying how the bone juts against his skin. Sure, in general Bokuto enjoys partners with more meat on their bones, but Tsukki here feels pretty nice the way every part of his frame is so perfectly outlined and easy to touch.

"Mmh--" Bokuto parts the kiss to lick his lips, a dark glint in his eyes Tsukishima likely can't make out. "If you're that pent up, all you gotta do is ask, Tsukki~"

He punctuates this by giving the first year's narrow hips another squeeze, urging his weight onto the workbench behind them so he can get a knee between Tsukishima's legs again. Beside them, there's a high dragging noise as the rake leaned precariously against the ledge they're leaning on tips over and falls to the floor with a sharp clatter. See, Tsukki? He was watching out for you.

"What d'you say? Want me to eat you out?"

The extra squeeze at Tsukki's hips says this was going to be Bokuto's next item on the agenda anyway, but best to hear it out of the blond himself.

Tsukishima doesn't know what to do with his hands. Or the rest of his body, for that matter. The kisses he had before this were chaste and fumbling - over after a brief touch of lips against lips. They were nothing like this. He doesn't feel as though he has enough working brain cells right now to determine whether this kiss is good or bad - the only conclusion he can come to is that it's intense.

He makes a surprised sound when he feels Bokuto's tongue in his mouth and shyly, clumsily swipes his own against it. (That is what he's supposed to do, right?)

Then, all of a sudden, he's being moved. For a moment he thinks he's going to fall, so he grips Bokuto's shoulders, panicking, resisting Bokuto's motions instead of moving along with him until he feels something solid behind him. He leans against it gratefully.

He has to re-play Bokuto's words in his head once or twice before he can derive any meaning from them. Bokuto's wide, solid hands feel good against him - that and the kissing is almost dizzying.

"I'm n-not pent up," is his brilliant comeback. It falls flat - his voice comes out rough and unsteady instead of biting, and he's already breathing heavily.

It's not an answer to Bokuto's question, he's aware. Merely hearing Bokuto ask that - so frankly, too - makes him shudder pleasantly in Bokuto's grasp. When Bokuto had propositioned him, Tsukishima had imagined that he'd want Tsukishima to do things for him, or at least want something a little more mutual than what he's offering.

He swallows.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "Yes, I want that."

It's only then he realizes that he's been looking ahead this entire time, and that Bokuto - with his superior eyesight - can probably see every expression flitting across his face, while Tsukishima can see absolutely nothing.

Screw this darkness thing, honestly.

Poor kid. Tsukishima's eyes will adjust eventually, though, and in the meantime Bokuto doesn't mind seeing a bit of the first year unguarded like this. Even disadvantaged as he is in the dark, Tsukki hardly emotes at all -- so a delicate little twitch or flicker at his lips feels like some kind of perverse, private show Bokuto's not even sure he's paid the right admission for.

Yeah. This blond's a lot like Akaashi, he decides. But maybe not quite as resistant to being taken apart...

"Good," Bokuto hums, hands venturing around to give Tsukishima's backside a little grope. "Get more of your ass onto this shelf thing -- s'easier if you aren't holding yourself up."

Also easier if he can keep Tsukki's legs nice and spread, which Bokuto supposes ought to go without saying. Instead he lets his fingers trail back up to the elastic bands of the first year's shorts and starts easing them down his hips. Not all the way, just enough for Tsukishima's bare ass to meet the workbench ledge and leave things easier to slip off once he's seated.

Tsukishima's question is no longer "is Bokuto into boys" but rather "how many boys has Bokuto done this with", considering how confident the third year is and how he seems to know just what to do.

He squirms at Bokuto's touch but obliges, shifting so that he's half-sitting on the counter. He hooks a thumb in the waistband of his shorts and slides them the rest of the way down his legs, letting them fall unceremoniously to the floor. The feeling of the fabric unsticking from his damp cloaca highlights just how turned on he his already.

Bokuto's knee is still situated between his legs, unmoving, and Tsukishima shuffles his feet, spreading his legs a little. He feels exposed like this, even though Bokuto probably can't see much from this angle, but in a few moments Bokuto is going to be kneeling and putting his mouth on Tsukishima's-- on his-- yeah.

He wonders who else Bokuto has hooked up with like this. His team's setter, maybe? They seem very close, but Tsukishima had assumed it was only platonic. Now, though, he's not so sure. Maybe they'd stolen away for surreptitious trysts before, too, although Tsukishima can't picture Fukurodani's calm, poised setter agreeing to doing it in a place like this.

Since he's so curious, he finally gives in and asks.

"Have you done this a lot?"

It's only after the question's already out that he realizes what it sounds like he's implying. Nice, Tsukki.

It's quite possible -- actually, pretty likely -- that Bokuto and Tsukishima hold vastly different standards for what sex is for and who should be having it. The way Tsukki phrases that, Bokuto guesses he thinks of sex as a pretty intimate affair, one that requires the 'right' setting and a big helping of mood lighting. Whereas in Bokuto's mind, sex is just another form of communication: way easier than finding words for things, a lot of the time, and great for a post-practice cooldown.

To that end, Akaashi has proved a hell of a partner, sure -- so have some of the other guys on his team. And from some of the other teams here at the practice camp. And a few members of the girls' team back at Fukurodani. It's not like he's doing it all the time or with everyone, or even doing the same things with a significant swath of people. It's just, you know. He's a few months shy of 18 and horny, and that's how it is.

Anyway he wouldn't have expected Tsukishima to just toss his shorts to the floor, he had been planning to do a little bit of that foreplay thing... But Bokuto shrugs mentally and rolls with it, taking that as an invitation to start kneeling down, palms balanced on the first year's thighs.

"You worried?" he counters, a huff of hot breath brushing over pale, pale skin. It's a pain that they practice almost exclusively indoors, because Tsukki's milky-white legs would look so good with some tanlines. Bokuto places his lips just above the inner part of his right thigh, glancing up to catch the kid's reaction. "Relax. I got you."

That is far from a direct answer, Bokuto knows. But who says he can't play just a little coy when it counts? Even he knows better than to kiss and tell.

...Sorta.

...Okay, he's definitely bragging about this to Kuroo next time he sees him, but only because the cat bastard's been horndogging over Tsukki since the start of the training camp. Apart from him, Bokuto's got a handle on this discretion thing. Most of the time.

"You smell nice," he murmurs against his skin, breathing in deep as he noses closer to that place between Tsukishima's legs. All guys sweat when they play volleyball and after a full day's practice anyone would stink, and Bokuto likes bodies like that, of course -- but even then, Tsukki smells different. Lighter. Not flowery or anything, just... tasty.

Which is why, hardly able to resist anymore, Bokuto's tongue dips out between his lips and licks a long, slow stripe up along the first year's inner thigh.

Bokuto's assessment of Tsukishima's attitude towards sex would be correct. At least in the sense that it's not something you do willy-nilly, which is more due to personal preference than any sense of propriety. Sleeping with people - and looking for suitable people to sleep with - had always seemed like more trouble than it was worth. You'd think that would lead to plenty of alone time, instead, but he didn't do much of that, either. It's not like he hadn't tried. He just never seemed to be able to bridge that gap between the desire thrumming at the back of his brain and the physical parts that were supposed to release it. So he'd been content to just let the desire sit and simmer.

Now, though, he has Bokuto. Who hasn't answered his question, but Tsukishima doesn't press.

He fidgets a little when he feels Bokuto's breath against his skin. But then Bokuto doesn't do anything, he just keeps talking - spouting reassurances that Tsukishima is almost-- quite positively-- no, definitely sure he doesn't need. He isn't impatient for it, exactly, it's just that he has this weird sense that he has to prove himself; show that he can handle this. As if it isn't obvious already how inexperienced he is, even to someone as clueless as Bokuto.

He's being ridiculous. It's not like he cares what Bokuto thinks of him, so his impression shouldn't be important.

And then Bokuto is commenting on his... scent.

"Do I," he mutters, looking down at the top of Bokuto's head. He probably just smells like sweat - exactly like Bokuto does.

He isn't expecting it when he feels Bokuto's tongue against his thigh. It tickles, making him shudder again, but he stiffens up even further rather than relaxing, his breath caught in his throat and his fingers curling over the edge of the workbench.

He can still feel Bokuto's breath on his skin. It's so, so warm, even in the humid summer air.

"Mm," Bokuto answers, possibly a confirmation but more likely just a hum for its own sake, as he laps along ticklish skin to the crease of Tsukishima's leg, close to his crotch. It's more than the taste of dried sweat, of course -- there's the sticky stuff pearling on the outer lips of the first year's slit, clinging to his sparse, pale pubic hairs like beads of dew, or however the author of Tsukki's bodice-ripper poetry book would describe it.

That's the real source of his scent, rich and musky, with a bittersweet edge almost like biting into the meat of an overripe fruit... It gets Bokuto's mouth watering before he even presses his lips to Tsukki's outer folds, giving his cloaca a 'chaste' little kiss before going any further.

"Wet, too," he chuckles, words muffled as he noses against Tsukishima's mound above his slit, wet and sticky from where the shorts had smeared his juices around earlier. Bokuto's known virgins who were practically dry when he first went down on them, so part of him almost wants to praise Tsukki for being ahead of the game in that regard -- if only he weren't pretty sure the blond would fail to take the compliment as intended. Better stick to teasing, and giving Tsukishima's slit a little flick of his tongue. "So cute, Tsukki..."

He is cute. Bokuto may have all the artistic refinement of a caveman but he has seen enough naughty bits to say with some confidence that the megane-kun's parts are downright adorable, so petite with their neat little patch of pubic hair and pink lips barely darker than the skin surrounding them. He traces over those lips again with another light flick before dipping his tongue inside, helping himself to a better taste.

Tsukishima doesn't think of himself as cute at all. Which is kind of missing the point, but it's not like he can compare his junk's appearance to anybody else's; he doesn't even know what his own looks like, having never bothered to fuck around with hand mirrors or the like.

That Bokuto is talking into his junk is more than a little awkward, though.

"Stop talking to my-- mmmph."

He slaps his hand over his mouth to muffle his moan when Bokuto's tongue breaches him, but even muffled the noise sounds disproportionately loud in the silent, empty space, seemingly echoing off the walls. His hips twitch forwards in an unconscious, aborted movement against Bokuto's mouth.

Tsukishima had tried dipping his fingers into the shallow channel inside of him before, but it had been underwhelming - not like this, nothing like this. All Bokuto had done was lick him a little but every touch of his hot, wet tongue against Tsukishima's folds felt so intense that he's aching already. He spreads his legs a little wider. More of that sticky, slick fluid coats the insides of his thighs and leaks onto Bokuto's tongue, the cloying scent of him filling the room.

What was that one line in the poem? Something about roiling heat? Tsukishima had never really gotten it before, but now he thinks he might. He thinks about how Bokuto's tongue had slid and twisted in his mouth when they kissed, and - he wants more, he wants Bokuto's tongue in him, he wants it so badly. He considers pulling Bokuto closer, but he holds himself back, turning over the hand against his mouth so he can bite down on his knuckle, the nails of his other hand scratching against the wood of the workbench as he grips the edge of it, hard.

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