#ushioi, NSFW🔞, catboy!tooru, morning sex, ~1k words
—
Early morning light filters into their bedroom and Tooru wakes up promptly at 5am.
He stretches and climbs atop of Wakatoshi, curling up into a ball on his husband's body to nap some more.
Wakatoshi holds his breath.
In the early days of their relationship, he'd be so afraid of accidentally moving and scaring the finicky cat hybrid off that he’d stay so still his muscles start to cramp. These days, he knows Tooru will always choose him, moving or not.
Wakatoshi brushes a single finger over the soft brown fur of Tooru's ear, smiling when it flicks at the touch. He pats down the unruly mop of wavy hair, rubbing the scent glands across Tooru's cheek as the cat nuzzles into his palm.
"No training this morning?" He asks quietly.
Tooru unfurls himself and stretches, claws digging into Wakatoshi's shirt. He slumps back down with a yawn. "Rest day."
Tooru nudges under Wakatoshi's chin, tilting his head up until the stubbly expanse of his neck is exposed,
and starts to groom.
He starts with short licks, slow and deliberate with the flat of his tongue, working his way up from the collarbone to the chin with every curl. He tips his head, dragging his tongue over the ridges and bumps, every lap mesmerizingly hot.
Between the sensual lick on his neck and the weight of his boyfriend on him, Wakatoshi's dick starts to take notice.
So does Tooru. The cat hybrid circles his hips lazily, body undulating in a mesmerising arch as he rubs their dicks together through the thin sleep pants.
"Feels goooood," a gentle purr is building in Tooru's chest as he grinds down, frotting sloppy and sweet in the dawn's light. Wakatoshi's hands find Tooru's ass, and he kneads the plush firmness of it, the massage only quickening the purrs.
With a hard push, he shunts Tooru up, shifting them both into a sit on the bed. "Not like this," he says, voice rough with sleep and lust. "Come here, I want a taste of you."
Tooru chirps happily, tearing his pants off in a flash as he clambers up to Wakatoshi's shoulders.
He frames Wakatoshi's face between his knees, paws already making biscuits in the headboard.
Wakatoshi moves to pull Tooru's hips down and is punished with a light smack. "Ah, ah. What's the magic word?"
Olive green meets brown eyes. "Please," he says, serious and sincere.
Tooru purrs in satisfaction. "Itadakimasu, Waka-chan."
He grinds down with the same lazy twist in his hips, arching his back down and back as he guides Wakatoshi's tongue from his hole to his taint and back again.
Wakatoshi doesn't shy from the pressure.
He plants himself firmly between Tooru's cheeks and eats the meal of his life.
He presses his tongue in as far as it could, slurping and licking where he can as he pulls that pretty hole apart. The scent of heavy musk surrounds him,
and the taste of Tooru drips into his mouth as he sucks on the rim. A hand grips his hair and holds him in place; he goes willingly.
His stubble scratches against the tender skin of Tooru's ass, and he's sure he's leaving his mark - the thought makes him dig his fingers in,
branding his kitty with his bruises of love.
It doesn't take long for Tooru to get impatient. He hops down from his perch and straddles Wakatoshi, cat-slit iris gleaming in excitement. Wakatoshi pants hard, the tip of his tongue poking out to swipe at a stray drip of spit
at the corner of his mouth.
Against the backdrop of golden light, Tooru’s form is silhouetted. From the tip of his pretty ears, to his slinky form, to the high, twitching tail - his husband is beautiful.
Tooru butts his head under Wakatoshi’s chin,
ass humping back as he teases his husband's dick - Wakatoshi's head catches on Tooru's hole, the furled rim kissing at the tip with each pass.
Wakatoshi grips Tooru's thighs with a warning stare, and the cat grins, clearly unrepentant. "Time for the main course, Waka-chan."
He reaches back and bears down, a little hiss in his breath as he slides Wakatoshi home. He’s so wet down there, so /sloppy/, and with a push he sits himself all the way down to the base.
He’s so - full.
Tooru collapses on his elbows, mouth half open as he adjusts to the thickness in him. He can hear Wakatoshi murmuring praises and scratching behind his ears, but god - he’s full to bursting.
And when his husband starts to bounce him on his dick - Tooru buries his face and yowls.
That exquisite slide out, followed by the hard, merciless thrust back against his prostate - “Yes, yes, faster Daddy, please!”
Wakatoshi obliges, open mouth pants next to Tooru’s ears as he bends his knees for leverage on each powerful fuck.
Tooru feels helpless, so completely safe as he’s cradled in those strong arms and thoroughly destroyed.
It doesn’t stop, not until he’s locking Wakatoshi in when he cums, his hole squeezing and milking as he nibbles his husband’s shoulder. Only then is he a boneless puddle again
lounging on Wakatoshi’s chest.
His pillow shifts as Wakatoshi reaches down and swipes at his hole, pushing in with two fingers to scoop up a generous load of cum.
“Whaa-?” Tooru mumbles, lifting his chin up to look.
He’s treated to a glorious sight. Wakatoshi sucks his fingers into his mouth, eyes intent and hungry, and feeds his cum into Tooru’s mouth with a kiss.
Tooru pulls back, breathless. It’s fucking filthy, and nasty, and how dare Wakatoshi -
“Do it again,” he whispers, canting his hips up.
Wakatoshi obliges, lazily thumbing open that loose hole as they kiss, Tooru cleaning up his fingers with kitten licks. His purr is back, stronger than ever, nearly shaking the whole bed.
“One more time,” he begs, humping against the crook of Wakatoshi’s thigh. His eyes are bright, hopeful, and through the backdrop of diluted sunlight, his face is framed with gold.
And how could the man resist?
• • •
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The bell at the door rings as a customer enters and Akaashi doesn’t have to look up to know that it’s Bokuto that just came in.
“Good morning, Bokuto-san,” he says in a measured voice as he decants chocolate syrup into a squeezy bottle. He tries his hardest not to show just how much he’s vibrating with excitement, but it’s not like Bokuto will notice anyway. “The usual?”
He finally glances up and sees,
in all his glory, Bokuto with his sweaty, tousled hair, fitted tracksuit, and beaming smile.
“Hey, hey Akaashi!” Akaashi can’t help but let his eyes be drawn to the brightness of that grin. “The usual, yes, and also that chocolate chip cookie.”
Wakatoshi has a talent for getting on Tooru nerves. Maybe that’s the reason why he finds the man so irresistible.
Tooru grunts as his back hits the wall, their mouths already colliding in a hungry, angry kiss.
The sounds of the party goes on just outside of the room, but nothing could distract him from the slick gasps as they slide tongue into mouths and bite down on lips.
“You’re an asshole,” Tooru says.”After all these years. You’re still insufferable.”
Wakatoshi ignores the jab and bends down. With a scoop and a shrug of strong shoulders, he hikes Tooru’s thighs in his grasp.
Tooru is completely off the ground, pinned between the wall and Wakatoshi’s broad chest, completely at the mercy of this annoying, insane man.
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."
Tooru’s favourite part about his heat is just how /sensual/ it makes him feel.
He doesn’t have much of an opinion about his body. Yes, he’s a world class athlete and he takes care of himself like one.
Still, he’s more focused on feeling rather than looking good.
But when it’s that time of the year and lust curls through his bones to caress at his skin? He wants to look /hot/.
It occurs in several stages.
He’ll start by admiring himself in the mirror more often, petting his flank as his eyes trace his curves. Then, he’ll move on to touch. Lotions, oils, scrubs - he’ll indulge in anything that makes his skin soft and smooth. At the peak of his heat, he’ll be so sensitive