Thread by @catafterdark_

#ushioi, NSFW🔞

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Tooru catches Wakatoshi staring at him while he was stretching one day.

“Hmm, I wonder…”

“What’s up Waka-chan?”

Wakatoshi looks away quickly. A light blush colours his cheekbones. “Nothing,” he says.

Tooru leaves him be.

—

He finds out soon enough during sex.

"What the hell was that for Waka-chan?"

Tooru pulls back in amused shock, gently pushing Wakatoshi's hand off his thigh. "Why're you trying to lift my legs so high for? We're supposed to fuck, not perform at the cique du soleil."

Wakatoshi looks away, and Tooru has been with the man long enough to know he's embarrassed. "...Nothing."

Tooru pieces two and two together quickly. "It's about my flexibility, isn't it," he says. "It turns you on."

Wakatoshi still isn't looking at him, but his ears are a brilliant red. "Maybe…yes."

Tooru laughs and kisses him. "We'll do something about that next time. When I have time to prepare beforehand." He climbs onto Wakatoshi’s lap, straddling his boyfriend wide and seductive.

"But for now, let's do something fun, eh?"

Tooru rides Wakatoshi into a screaming orgasm and their earlier conversation is forgotten. For now.

—

Tooru is up bright and early the next day, his yoga mat laid out as he begins his stretches. Except -

Wakatoshi freezes mid yawn, his eyes glued to the lower half of Tooru’s body.

There, folded in an uttanasana pose, is Tooru, clad in a pair of sinfully sheer black tights, one that clings to every curve. He arches his back to return into a standing position,

pushing that pert ass, so plush and juicy and biteable, up into the air.

Tooru turns around nonchalantly. “Morning, Waka-chan.” He grasps an ankle and pulls his leg up, up, up, stretching it out in a long line until he’s in a perfect standing split.

Wakatoshi fixates on the pull of fabric hanging on for dear life as it stretches across Tooru’s taint. “Lovely day for something flexible, hm?”

Wakatoshi has had enough.

“Ooph, so eager,” Tooru laughs as he’s pinned onto the mat, pressed face down and ass up.

He could feel large hands groping him, fondling where they pleased. He squeaks in surprise when Wakatoshi grips the tights at the seams and pulls - ripping it apart effortlessly to reveal the peachy pink of his ass until the sheer black of the lycra.

Wakatosh tugs at the tear, pulling it open just enough for him to fit his face in. He flips Tooru onto his back, pulling his ankles all the way up to his ears, pushing him down into a mating press.

Tooru looks - stuck. Ready. Like a bitch presented for breeding. His dick and puffy hole stands out in this position, made fat and prominent when framed by those muscular thighs. Wakatoshi nibbles at the little pudge of Tooru’s stomach, licking his way down to Tooru’s hole,

already gaping from the forced openness of the position.

He thumbs at Tooru’s hole, delighted at the lack of underwear. “Itadakimasu,” he says, and dives right in.

He snacks with glee, knowing Tooru is helpless to do anything but hold on to his ankles and take the pleasure.

He tongues and fingers his boyfriend open, relishing the taste of musk and the music of moans, all while preparing Tooru for the main course.

When he moves on to drape Tooru over the sofa, the man was already punch drunk with lust. “Use me,” he begs,

dragging Wakatoshi down for a kiss. Wakatoshi rips the tights further, muscles rippling as he forces the tear wider, and manoeuvres Tooru back into that standing split.

Wakatoshi does as he’s told - he fucks Tooru, uses him, abuses that damn flexibility

as he drapes Tooru’s knee over his shoulder and thursts so hard the sofa squeaks along the floor. It drives him wild, knowing Tooru can take whatever he throws at him, wanting only ardent love in return.

The sound of skin on skin slapping is obscene, and Wakatoshi knows if he looks down, he’ll see the fat of Tooru’s ass jiggling in a way that makes him want to dig his fingers in and leave his prints in their place.

He grits his teeth and pounds harder, feeling a sharp sense of glee when Tooru wails and arches back.

When Tooru cums, it’s with a suffocatingly tight squeeze around his dick that has him growling and huffing into the man’s neck.

He hooks an arm under Tooru’s other knee and hikes him up around his waist, holding him up with raw strength alone as he fills Tooru up with trembly knees.

Tooru is the first to speak up as the sweat lies cooling on their skin. “Those are pretty expensive tights, Waka-chan.

You’re such a brute.”

“I’ll buy you more,” Wakatoshi says, kissing Tooru on the forehead. “Only if i can tear them up again.”

Tooru laughs and gingerly lets himself down. The slide of cum on the dark tights is sensual, and Wakatoshi could feel himself grow hard again.

“You have a fetish.”

“When it comes to you, yes.” Wakatoshi dips a finger into the mess and slides it over Tooru’s thigh. “But then again, can you blame me?”

Tooru catches his finger and pops it into his mouth, sucking himself off with a cheeky smile. "Let me go change,"

he says. "And we'll see if I can do a split on your dick."

Wakatoshi had never gotten hard so fast in his life.