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Keiji’s mind doesn’t slow down during sex. In fact, he feels hyper-focused on Koutarou, what he’ll do next, anticipating avenues and pathways for utmost pleasure. It feels like he was born to do this, and his reward is Koutarou’s smile, his hands, his mouth, his body just for Keiji to worship. He gasps when Koutarou gnaws on his neck. It embarrasses him during the day when he has to cover up with turtlenecks or sometimes even makeup when the hickey bruises dark, but it’s not something that he’d ever deny. He likes that it makes him feel like he’s Kou’s, just as much as he’s always belonged to him.
Kou isn’t as clumsy at sex as he thought he’d be. He’s still eager, puppy paws, but he takes Keiji apart before Keiji can form a coherent thought sometimes.
“Koutarou, Koutarou, please,” he says, fingers twitching against the firm sinew of his back. “Please, let me touch you too,” he begs, legs spreading wider, bucking into Kou’s hot, calloused hand. He feels like he’s melting, but he makes his mouth move, begging again on a moan.
“No, just let me do you! I want to make you feel good,” Koutarou chirps, grin wild. Keiji nods, embarrassed, but pleased that Kou wants him so much.
Every time, it ends the same way. Keiji asking if he can touch him, please, if he can just see him, and Koutarou short-circuiting him with his mouth and hands until they’re both panting, his face pressed to Koutarou’s impressive chest or Keiji staring at the ceiling, wondering if he’s ever going to see Kou’s dick.
It’s been months of this now. He’s going to go crazy.
==
Kenma regrets having friends.
Akaashi’s staring wistfully out the window, like it will grant him answers. Kenma does not want to ask what’s wrong, but on the next sigh-glance-over-in-Kenma’s-direction combo, he feels his teeth grinding. Kuro, save me, he thinks. This is Kuroo’s fault for being interested in volleyball, thus introducing them to the awful, and increasingly frequent ‘double dates’ with the new couple; meaning that even though they’re both too tired, Kuroo will drag them out to a restaurant where they have to watch Bokuto and Akaashi feeding each other, or to a movie where Bokuto and Akaashi make out the entire time, or god forbid, a theme park— because Kuroo doesn’t want to be a bad friend.
“Bokuto-san….,” Akaashi says, finally, his grip tightening on his lukewarm beer can like he's the protagonist of the manga he edits. He glances up quickly, to where Bokuto and Kuroo are leaned up against the bar, waiting for another round of drinks. “Do you and Kuroo-san, you know…have a lot of sex?”
Kenma’s eye twitches and he scrunches his toes in his shoes. “A normal amount,” he says, truthfully, hoping that will be the end of it.
“That’s very vague, Kenma,” Akaashi says, sharp eyes glancing over at him.
“We both work full time and we’ve been together for…” they’d never quite settled when their anniversary was, if there was an anniversary. “So maybe once a week, if we both feel like it.”
“What about when you first got together? According to all of my research, we’re still supposed to be in the honeymoon… love birds phase. And, you know how… enthusiastic Koutarou is about things.”
Kenma feels the muscles around his eyes involuntarily squeeze. “Normal…amount,” he murmurs again, not feeling quite sure himself. Now that he thinks back on it, a lot of times at the beginning, they just kissed and made out a lot until Kenma accidentally fell asleep, or Kuroo accidentally fell asleep. They didn’t start having sex until midway through Kenma’s freshman year of college, which meant that one of Kenma’s required courses was at 8 A.M. The adjustment was too much for both of them. He shrugs again, trying not to feel strange about not having a crazy ton amount of sex with his…. boyfriend.
“Get to the point, Keiji. Before they come back,” Kenma suggests.
“We have sex, definitely. He’s very — generous. I would say the frequency that we’re having sex is normal, but what’s not normal is that. Well, he still hasn’t… put it in me yet,” Akaashi says.
Ah.
“Maybe he’s nervous about hurting you?”
“I don’t think he is, he’s just very — well, he does other things. With his mouth, ah, but…”
Kenma closes his eyes. “Then, just ask him. I don’t understand why I have to sit here, listening to this with my ears when you could just ask him. He’s right there, Keiji.”
“And I haven’t — seen his…dick,” this makes Kenma’s attention snap straight. Interesting.
“Wait, what? Weren’t you on the volleyball team with him? How have you not seen his dick?”
“I always tried to avoid it in the locker room, because it made me feel guilty, since I wanted him as more than a friend. Like it would be taking advantage— But he’s very… very well endowed. Just from the shape of it through his underwear, I can tell.”
“Then why isn’t he showing it off? That doesn’t seem in character for Bokuto. He’s the biggest showoff that I know. Why hasn’t he shoved his massive dick in your face?” Kenma says, just hair louder than his normal whisper. Keiji looks around worriedly anyway, then glares at Kenma, even though he’s the one bringing up his bedroom problems to Kenma, like he’s a free therapist.
“I don’t know!” Akaashi yell-whispers back.
“Is he … an absolute neko?”
“I don’t think so,” Akaashi shakes his head, then sighs and that’s all they can get through before Bokuto’s bounding back to the table, spilling half of his drink on himself with a loud, OYA OYA OYA!
Kenma leans on Kuroo when he slides into the booth. His heavy arm is over him in an instant, cheeks red. He’s tipsy, giggling quietly to himself. Kenma glances at him from the corner of his eye. It’s cute, but he’ll never tell Kuroo that. Still, he lets Kuroo lean his full body weight on him anyway.
He forgets about Akaashi’s dilemma until —
BANG BANG BANG.
That can only be one person, thudding like an untrained bulldog butting against the door. It’s his day off, so he plans to sleep until 2pm, wake up and spend time with Kuroo when he’s off work. Nothing will ruin that plan, especially not whatever new crisis Bokuto deemed with his brand new relationship with Akaashi. Kenma’s too old for this shit. Maybe not old, but he’s been in a relationship for so long, dealt with all the uncertainties for himself that it seems unfair that he did the play through without cheats and Bokuto can get the walkthrough from him.
Sometimes it feels like Kenma’s dating Akaashi.
BANG BANG BANG.
It isn’t his problem.
“Kuroo! I know you’re in there you bastard! Answer my texts!”
BANG BANG BANG.
“This is important! Aren’t you my closest friend? Wait, is Kenma-kun in there? Actually, that might be better. Kenma! Pleeease!!”
To: Kuro
Bokuto is here again. This is your fault.
It goes quiet for a few blissful minutes before there’s scratching sounds — trying to pick-lock? The image of a helpless puppy, scratching at the door with its big paw implants itself in Kenma’s head and he starts to feel, ever so slightly guilty.
From: Kuro
My fault? Just tell him to go away.
To: Kuro
You know that doesn’t work.
He rolls out from under the kotatsu, feeling warm and loose-limbed and steels himself for whatever prompts Bokuto’s going to throw at him.
“Bokuto. Is whatever problem you’re having going to be solvable if I throw money at you?” Kenma says, without opening the door, hands still stuffed in his hoodie pocket.
“Kenma! Oh god, you have to help me! Akaashi is totally going to break up with me, because there is no way I can do that!” Bokuto whines so loudly, Kenma thinks he’s piercing a sound barrier.
Kenma glowers and inches the door open, only enough for Bokuto to stick his nose through.
“Kenma!!!! Help me!”
“If this is a medical emergency, go to the hospital.”
Bokuto wrestles the door open with his stupid big muscles and stupid big chest. Of course there’s no way Kenma would win a strength contest against him. He has no choice. If he wants this to end quickly, he’ll just have to solve Bokuto’s problem.
“I don’t think Keiji would break up with you, even if you turned into an inanimate object, so what’s wrong?”
“Keiji is a size queen,” Bokuto sobs, flinging himself at Kenma, full body weight and all. He only manages to catch them for a moment, before the lack of traction from his fuzzy socks slowly sink them to the ground.
Kenma is going to invoice Kuro for emotional damage.
“Get. Off. Me,” Kenma grunts, claustrophobic under a mountain of muscle and tears. He does resort to biting, because he can. Bokuto yelps and rolls off, that stupid dazed look on his face when he forgets to do basic things, because his braincells are only split off into two categories: volleyball and Keiji.
“So what if he’s a size queen, are you going to shame him for it?”
“No, it’s not that! It’s just,” Bokuto sits up, looking like a little kid the way he’s slumped over, twiddling his thumbs. Puppy, Kenma thinks again, sighing inwardly. “I can’t give him what he wants.”
“Huh? Don’t you have a monster dick? Keiji said — and can I emphasize that I know way too much about you two’s sex life — but he said, you definitely have a big dick.”
Bokuto shakes his head, his cheeks going bright red. “Can I trust you with a secret, Kenma-san?” Kenma cringes at the honorific.
“Ew, don’t call me that. What is it? You know I don’t gossip, so spit it out already.”
Bokuto doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stands up and pulls down his pants down.
Too many things happen at once, Kenma gets a look at Bokuto’s genitals for maybe .005 seconds before a blur and a crash happens. When he blinks, Kuroo and Bokuto are wrestling on the ground. “You bastard!” and “Get off! It isn’t what it looks like!” “What the hell is it supposed to look like? You’re harassing my boyfriend!” Kuroo winds back and another crunchy sound happens when his fist connects with Bokuto’s cheek.
==
It started like this.
Koutarou has been traveling nonstop for the past month for away games and he’s finally home to see Keiji. He was going to surprise him and kiss him all over, because he’s like, super pumped from being back in Japan and also very, very horny.
He snuck into Keiji’s apartment to surprise him sexily (the sexy part being Koutarou, laying on his bed with a rose in his mouth, because romance.) He forgot that to make himself even sexier, he needed to oil his body for the light to really hit him just right. He searched around Keiji’s room for the bottle of baby oil he’d spotted before.
He did not mean to find Keiji’s sex drawer. He definitely did not mean to keep digging deeper in Keiji’s highly organized sex drawer to find the box full of dildos — huge dildos of all different shapes and inhuman sizes. All dildos that make Bokuto’s asshole want to scamper away.
The thoughts in his head went like this: Eh? Keiji likes this, well that’s kind of sexy, but wait Keiji really likes this. And this one is big. And this one is very big, wait my fist can’t even go around it. Oh god. Akaashi-kun likes big dicks. Akaashi is a size queen. He looked down at his dick.
Bokuto shoved everything back in the drawer and ran out the door before Keiji could find him with his hands in the cookie jar.
==
Five minutes later, when Kuroo and Bokuto are both out of breath, Kenma clears his throat. Bokuto’s pants are pulled back up and they’re holding frozen ice packs to their bruised faces, Kenma sits, knees inside of his oversized shirt. He is channeling as much calm as possible, because he can feel Kuroo’s impatience from here. He blinks slowly at them a few times.
“What did I see?” He says, trying to register it.
Bokuto huffs, glancing to the side and mumbles something.
“What was that?”
“I said, I have… a small penis. It’s actually… called a micropenis.” He can see Kuroo’s lips starting to peel back to start a disgusting cackle, but he stops him with one curt head shake. Bokuto’s obviously self-conscious about this and they can’t break him without Akaashi here to fix him. It’s way too much trouble and honestly, no matter the size of Bokuto’s dick, he absolutely does not want to see it again.
“He was showing me, because he thinks Keiji is a size queen,” Kenma says, eyes on Kuroo.
“He is!” Bokuto cries. “There was a dildo the size of my fist!”
“We don’t know all of the facts,” Kenma exhales, long-suffering. “Bokuto, is this the reason why you haven’t had penetrative sex with Akaashi yet?”
“He told you?”
“It bothered him a lot, so unfortunately, yes.”
Bokuto pouts. He looks pathetic. “Well, it’s over between us, isn’t it? He’s not going to want to be with me after he sees this,” he says, gesturing to his crotch.
“Sex isn’t all about penetration,” Kenma says with a deep frown, glancing over at Kuroo, who nods in agreement.
“But it’s what he wants, right? Why else would he have a whole drawer full of them. He likes it, but I can’t fulfill that for him.”
“If you’re not comfortable with it, then it’s not going to be good for you, even if you do try it,” Kenma reasons. “You’re going to be conscious of it the whole time that you’ll definitely suck at it.”
“Have you considered putting your ass on the line?” Kuroo says, his one eye gleaming with mirth.
Bokuto’s lips pucker. “I… tried it once myself. It felt weird and then I got scared that I would get my fingers stuck, and I couldn’t really see what I was doing, so it sort of hurt too, like I had pooped too much.”
Kuroo snorts, unimpressed. “Weak. So you haven’t fucked him and you won’t let him fuck you? Are you good at sex at all? Or is Akaashi blinded by his love for you that it’s canceled out you being lame at sex.”
“I am good at sex!” Bokuto protests. Kenma has a feeling that Kuroo’s right. But if it works for Keiji, then that’s fine.
“Just go talk to him. Please get out of my house and go talk to your boyfriend, if you love and respect him. This should be a conversation you have with him, not with your friends. He won’t laugh,” Kenma says firmly, a migraine starting to form at his temples. Kuroo seems to sense how tense he is and plants his hand on the back of his neck, thumb rubbing soothing circles at the base of his skull.
“I guess…,” Bokuto says, sighing loudly again.
“If he breaks up with you over your tiny dick, we’ll take you out to McDonald’s,” Kenma says.
“Just McDonald’s? You two are so fucking cheap.”
“I’ll buy you something from 7-11,” Kuroo adds, without missing a beat. Kenma smirks, ever so slightly.
==
Koutarou slumps back home, feeling stupid and scared to talk to Keiji, who is like, the easiest, bestest person to talk to, normally. He knew eventually, Keiji would be curious about why he hadn’t whipped his dick out during sex yet, which is why he got so good at sucking Keiji off. He’s just bummed, that he can’t hide it anymore and then Keiji will get bored of him and find some guy with a monster dong.
He flips on the light to his house and jumps when he sees Keiji kneeling on the floor of the genkan.
“Bokuto-san, before you say anything, please listen to me,” Keiji says, fists squeezed tightly. He knows his dress pants are stretched from the way he’s on his knees, but he prostrates anyway, bowing deeply. “Please allow me to try it just once. I know that your penis is big and you’re worried you’ll hurt me. Even if I was scared at first, I want you to know that I have been practicing,” Keiji’s voice cracks, and he looks up, face red. “So, please let me try, so that I can make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
“Wait, you’re not a size queen?”
“What?”
“I… kind of found your secret drawer of things,” Koutarou says, grinning sheepishly.
“Oh,” Keiji blinks, sitting up.
“I’m sorry! I wasn’t purposefully going through your things! I was trying to find the baby oil and found it—“
“Bokuto-san, it’s fine,” Keiji reassures, though his cheeks feel extra hot.
“It’s okay if you really like that stuff! I thought it was sexy but—“
“No! Koutarou…it’s fine. I’m a little embarrassed that you found it, because I don’t really like it. The person who manufactures them is my friend. When I asked for just one, he sent me a whole box full of the imperfect ones they can’t sell. I’ve only been practicing with the smallest one he sent.”
“So you really… don’t want a dick that’s bigger than my whole fist.”
“Not at all! I mean, if it’s…,” Keiji glances down at Kou’s crotch. “If it’s that size, then, I can prepare myself for it.”
“It isn’t,” Koutarou says, swallowing. “It isn’t at all, how you’re picturing it.” Koutarou kicks at the ground with his toe, scuffing his floor. He looks up at Keiji through his thick lashes, looking more nervous than he’s ever seen him. It makes Keiji reach for him, wanting to smooth his thumb over the slight wrinkle over his brow. He forgets that he can now, and does, cupping Koutarou’s face gently.
“I’ll accept anything you give me, anything you want to show me. I can wait too, if you’re not ready.”
Kou’s face warms under his hands and he grins, chest swelling up, his calloused fingers wrapping around Keiji’s wrist. “You’re so—,” Kou puffs his cheeks. “You’re amazing, Akaashi-san. No, Keiji. Keiji, Keiji, Keiji, I love you. I do,” he turns his head, kissing the fat of his thumb. Keiji’s heart startles. “I didn’t tell you, because I’ve always been ashamed of it,” he says, cast down. “I was born with a… it’s called a micropenis. No one could ever tell, because I used to wear these special boxers that made me look bigger. I don’t really wear them that much anymore, but when I found all those dildos, I thought I’d never be able to… fulfill your needs.”
“Kou,” Keiji says, softly. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad you told me, but even if I did like big dicks, there’s nothing in this world I like more than you, all of you,” he says, then kisses Kou’s brow. “I love you — utterly. I never thought I’d get to do this, just this. Kiss you and hold you and be with you. Sex is just — it’s bonus. It just means I get to be closer to you, but it isn’t everything. One day, when we’re… we’re old and neither of us can do it anymore, it won’t matter, because I’ll still just get to be with you, I hope.”
“You thought that far ahead?” Koutarou says, voice wavering.
“Well, yes. As one of the options.”
“Keiji, you’re so smart. Keiji, you’re so — amazing! I love you! Let’s do it right now! You can even stick it in me! I really want to try! I want you, I want you!!” He kisses Keiji’s cheek and his chin and his jaw.
Keiji laughs into his hairline. “Anything you want, Kou.”
If Kenma were here, he’d start booing.
==
Kenma leans away from his monitor, feeling his eyes burn from not blinking for so long. He shoves his light-blocking glasses to the top of his head and rubs at his eyes before swiveling his chair to check his phone.
From Bokuto:
EVERYTHING IS FINE!!!!!!!!!!
HE IS N’T A SIZE QUEEN LOL ! EXPLAIN LATER WWWWWWW
Kuroo pops his head in.
“Did you see?”
“I did. Good for them.”
“Almost done?”
“Maybe another hour,” Kenma says, squeezing his eyes shut again. Kuroo clicks his tongue and comes up behind him, running his fingers through his hair, scratching gently with his fingertips.
“Come eat dinner and then finish. You look tired,” Kuroo chastises and his fingers feel too good to talk back. He just makes a face that Kuroo can’t see and lets Kuroo wheel his computer chair out into the living room.
He feels a little more human after half of a bowl of noodles. Chewing a mushroom, he thinks about Akaashi’s question to him a week ago.
“Do you think we have enough sex?”
Kuro pauses at him, eyebrows cocked, a noodle sticking unattractively out of his mouth. Kenma pulls it away with his chopsticks and resettles back on to the couch.
“Oho? Did you talk to Akaashi about sex? What did you say?”
“I told him you’re annoying and bad at sex.”
“Hey!”
“He just asked if we do it a lot, but I don’t think we ever did.”
“I guess that’s true,” Kuro says, scratching the back of his head. “Shouldn’t it be about quality and not quantity?”
“Is it quality, though?” Before Kuro can wilt, Kenma adds, “I just meant, now that our lives are less crazy, we have more time for it.” Kuroo nods. He thinks about how nervous he’d been that first time and how over prepared Kuroo was. He remembers thinking he loved that about Kuroo — didn’t tell him enough how much he appreciated how much he cared about making Kenma comfortable. Not just in sex, but in life. In every new situation. And how he’s pushed him through things too, and has taken care of him.
“Is there anything you want to try? Now that I think about it, I feel like you were holding back, for my sake,” Kenma says, swirling his chopsticks through the broth, watching the oil split between them.
“That’s not true. I wasn’t holding back anything. It’s not fun to have sex if you don’t want it, you know. I’ve always liked our sex, even if sometimes you fall asleep and it ends before it starts. I like all that stuff,” Kuro says, way too straight-forwardly. Kenma turns his head, frowning a little.
“Did I make you shy?” Kuroo cackles.
“It’s just gross.”
“My love for you is not gross.”
“It is.”
“Is not,” Kuroo says, leaning forward to kiss Kenma’s hairline. “Is there anything you want to try? Anything you want to do differently? I’m open to constructive criticism, you know.” Sex has never been very high on his priorities, so he’s never thought about it much. It feels anticlimactic to say, I like how we are. I like whatever you like.
“Give me some time,” Kenma says and Kuroo nods. They go back to eating silently until he can feel Kuroo’s gaze on him.
“I have… maybe thought about some things,” his cheeks red.
“If you say anything about cosplay or maids outfits, I’m going to kick you.” Kuroo pouts ever so slightly.
“Not exactly.”
“So it was that. You’re so typical,” Kenma snorts.
“No! It’s — sexy underwear. Lingerie.”
“Boring.”
“You didn’t let me finish. I meant, for me.” Kenma raises his eyebrows and sets his bowl down. He reaches over to Kuroo, cupping his chest.
“Mm. I’d like to see that, I think.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. It’d be…,” he watches Kuroo’s face closely. “Pretty.” He turns an even darker shade of red. Kenma’s lip curls into a small, pleased smile. He definitely likes that. “I think… I want to try a blindfold and… tying my hands and letting you… just not letting me think too much,” Kenma says, hands sliding from his chest, up to the dip of his shoulders and collarbone.
“We can try that. I want you to call me Tetsurou.”
“Okay, Tetsurou,” Kenma says, flatly.
“Not like that, you sound like my mom.”
“Go wash the dishes, Tetsurou.”
“You’re the worst.”