Work Text:
Atsumu and Tooru fighting over who gets to take Wakatoshi’s virginity ever since the latter calmly admitted to never having made love in one of their dinners, so of course Miya jumped out of his skin to fix that and, of course, Tooru was not about to let it happen. If there were to be any experienced, super hot, super dominant bottom that would permanently ruin Ushijima Wakatoshi for all future partners and make him a needy, service top for life, that honor would be Tooru’s alone.
Wakatoshi did not flirt with him in his stunted, kind of confusing way all throughout high school for Tooru to let bisexual man-slut, Miya Atsumu, brag high and low about how big Wakatoshi’s cock probably is and how he fucks all rough. He will not when Tooru’s done with him.
If Wakatoshi got to chose, Tooru’s sure it would be him. They’re still rivals, after all, still text on occasion when they’re around Iwa-chan, and Wakatoshi still comments cryptic one-word replies on Tooru’s Instagram thirst posts. “Nice.” - what do you mean ‘nice’?!
But Wakatoshi’s not necessarily choosing, is he? Not when Miya is so visibly and obviously and desperately and tactlessly throwing himself at him. Sleeves rolled up his forearms. Batting eyelashes. All the tricks in the book.
Tooru walks over to mess with his plans. “Waka-chan,” he flirts, “is he bothering you?”
Making sure to push his chest into Wakatoshi’s arm as he stands much nearer than necessary under the pretense of the bar being full and loud. It’s a cheap tactic that Miya clocks instantly and gives him an eye-roll over, but hey it’s not like Wakatoshi’s looking for something too advanced if how he’s cocking his head sideways at Miya’s stories is any hint.
“We were talkin’ actually,” Miya answers for him, “but yer welcome to join.”
“Great! I was planning to,” Tooru smiles pleasantly like a viper.
Wakatoshi would lose his virginity to two men at the same time. It’s the sort of legends he’s made up of. Anything he does he does better than you and immediately, effortlessly so, so when they push their way into his hotel room for the night, fighting over his mouth like idiots, Tooru only stops to re-think his choices once - before the sight of Miya making Wakatoshi sit at the edge of his king-size, perfectly made bed dissolves any protests of how this isn’t going quite to plan.
Miya’s good at taking charge. Tooru slides between the two, profiting, cutting Miya off in his approach and appearing before Wakatoshi first, straddling his lap as he climbs up the bed, shoving Wakatoshi on it.
Wakatoshi falls back gracefully for someone big and inexperienced. Looks up, silently taking him in. The bulge growing in his pants, speaks all the words he won’t say. When Tooru dips to grab his mouth, he expects to be interrupted but not in the way Miya does it, appearing behind Tooru to sneak his warm hands underneath Tooru’s t-shirt while his mouth finds the crook of Tooru’s neck, peppering it with kisses. He’s distracted by the sensation of Miya’s hands sliding up his torso to brush against his hardening nipples teasingly and doesn’t notice Wakatoshi sit up, a large palm sinking into Tooru’s hair, pulling his face forward for their lips to crash together aggressively.
And this - he could get used to, Miya biting a mark underneath his ear, pinching one of his nipples, causing Tooru’s body to arch with the pain and immediately get pressed between two muscled chests as Wakatoshi has to chase after his mouth, losing it briefly in his writhing.
They separate for breath, Miya and Wakatoshi having strange telepathy, both grasping at his t-shirt, pulling and shrugging it up over Tooru’s body. When it’s done, and he’s bare-chested, it’s Miya turning his face to want his lips and Wakatoshi who’s dipping his face to lick at his perked nipples, pull one in his mouth and run his tongue and teeth on it. He moans at the sensation, and Miya takes advantage of the weakness to shove his whole tongue into his mouth, fingers gripping Tooru’s jaw to hold his face in place as he explores him messily.
“You’re hot,” he whispers like a secret between them, ignoring Wakatoshi entirely.
“I know,” Tooru smirks, cupping his face and bringing him back into the kiss, thumb grazing his cheek to force itself into Miya’s mouth while they’re still attached, spread it apart as Tooru leans back, tongue sliding down and Miya’s dropping out of his mouth to chase after him, so it’s obvious what they’re doing and more so when Wakatoshi inhales sharply below them, his hands wrapping on either side of Tooru’s waist to yank him closer, rubbing their cocks together.
“Getting impatient, Waka-chan?” Tooru teases, letting his body be manhandled by the two men around him, Wakatoshi pulling it to grind against his clothed cock and Miya dragging him back to latch onto his mouth and tease at his chest.
They have an understanding now. It doesn’t matter who wins as long as Wakatoshi’s losing, making needy noises Tooru knew he’d be capable of producing but that would certainly surprise his team and fans. They’re grunts at first, barely audible, spaced around the times they can fully slide against each other. Get a little more wordy: “Come here.” A little more desperate: “Take your clothes off, please,” when Miya continues to shower Tooru in attention, hovering behind him close enough that Tooru can feel his erection poking at his ass.
He’s being pulled on like a rag doll, either man only interested in using his body for their own pleasure as something to rub on and moan into. Wakatoshi, sloppy mouth on Tooru’s chest, alternating with Miya’s fingers for a turn to tease, a sharp pinch of fingers followed by a comforting lave of hot tongue. And Miya sinking his teeth into the skin of Tooru’s neck when he’s not getting enough time with Tooru’s body to rut against, Tooru pulled off of him as soon as Miya fumbles and finds a way to get the length of his cock between Tooru’s cheeks.
The victory comes soon after, and Tooru’s breathing too hard and flushed too hot to fully enjoy it. Miya’s working his way up the slope of his neck, hugging his arms around Tooru’s waist to become one with his body when he whines, “wanna fuck you, champ,” against Tooru’s ear.
“I’m taking his cock,” Tooru taunts, grinding his hips in a circle and hearing Wakatoshi groan, “Yes, please,” like the polite boy he is.
They lock eyes, and Miya mirrors his smirk, pupils wide and dark. “Yea?” he nods, breathily, having read the challenge in Tooru’s smile.
Tooru brings his face closer, not quite kissing, feeling Miya’s hot tongue swipe his when he licks his lips at the next words. “You’ll have to teach him how,” Tooru baits him, brushing their noses, hearing the strained gasp. “Thought you came to get fucked, Atsu-chan.” The nickname, a final confirmation of status, who stands where.
Miya laughs, hearing it, has Tooru’s chin in his grip again so he’s the one teasing lip brushes against him. “Why have one man crying for my cock when I can have two?” he asks, twisting one of his nipples roughly.
He’s so wonderfully fun to fight with. It will be an honor breaking him down alongside his longest rival.
“Will you prep him for me?” Tooru asks, flashing him the most demure front he can muster - a pretty flower to be defiled.
“If he preps you,” Miya throws back with a grin.
Tooru stands off the bed and lets Miya undress him, roll his pants down his legs while Wakatoshi watches them hungrily.
“Get your cock out,” Tooru orders him.
The combination of Wakatoshi standing - towering - before him, tall as he lets clothes fall off his muscular body and Miya lowering on his knees behind Tooru to make quick work of his shoes and pants, planting hot kisses on the back of his thighs has Tooru rumbling in anticipation so thick, that when Miya finally teases the final layer off his skin, his cock bounces out, hard and leaking.
Before either of them gets carried away, Tooru hums, “Enough,” in the sweet, dangerous tone he used to use with his teammates. “On the bed, on your back,” he pushes Wakatoshi’s shoulder, catches Miya’s wrist as it moves to grab the collar of his own shirt ready to pull it off. “You won’t give me a show, Atsu-chan,” he asks, baring his neck back to lean against him.
Miya swallows but smiles, “I’ll get your cock dripping worse than this,” he taunts, fingers pressing his wet tip.
“Then wait ‘til I’m seated.” Tooru steps away, crawling up on the bed.
Wakatoshi’s on his back as instructed. Tooru straddles his lap, hands on either side of his head and leans down to kiss him, slow and languid, Wakatoshi’s hands coming up on either side of his face to cradle his cheeks, a proper gentleman. He has Tooru naked on his bare body yet he hesitates to touch him. But Miya hasn’t been tested enough so Tooru lets their bodies touch, chest to chest, groin to groin, Wakatoshi’s hard cock jutting against Tooru’s hip as they deepen the kiss, and here, Wakatoshi excels - give him the chance to make love and he knows just how to hug Tooru closer, one of his hands caressing down his back to settle on his ass while the other stays on his face, moves around to cup the back of Tooru’s neck, teasing the hair stuck to it in sweat. And Tooru could get used to this, too, being worshipped.
“Thought I was the one giving the show,” Miya gets impatient.
Wakatoshi’s hand squeezes against his ass possessively. His eyes are hard and hot when Tooru separates their faces from another passionate kiss.
“I’ll let you fuck me,” Tooru reassures him. Wakatoshi nods.
“But first,” Tooru straightens, going up on his knees to arrange himself the other way, straddling Wakatoshi’s head, facing the end of the bed, Miya, what a good puppy, still clothed, flustered and tenting his jeans but staying put as told. He winks when Tooru catches his eyes.
Tooru has no time to sit back before Wakatoshi has both hands wrapped around his thighs, pulling his body down so his face sinks in between his ass cheeks, tongue sticking out to press against his hole, hot and teasing. Tooru has to scramble to find balance. Hand gripping the headboard behind him, nails digging in how he wishes he could dig into Wakatoshi’s body. Anywhere would do. Show him what he’s doing to him, hungrily lapping without any hesitation, encouraging Tooru’s grinding on his face with fingers bruising his thighs.
“My turn,” Miya quips.
He has no time to think between the assault on his senses when Wakatoshi’s tongue sinks in and the languid show Miya’s giving him, clothes sliding off his toned body, revealing abs, rock hard, armpits, hairy, similarly thick curls dusting his lower belly, dipping underneath the tight waistband of his boxer shorts, stained with arousal. He seems to wait to take them off, to taunt Tooru or ask for permission, Tooru doesn’t currently care.
“Off. Get on his cock before I’m tempted to cut you out.”
Wakatoshi’s fucking his tongue in, and it’s either that or the prospect of what’s coming that make his long, thick cock bob off his stomach, dripping strands of precum.
Miya laughs and disrobes. Between the three of them, Wakatoshi’s the biggest but that would have surprised no one. What does surprise him is Miya being smaller than he expected for someone talking such a confident game. Thick and pretty, nestled in a bush of well-groomed pubes but not as big as Tooru’s own cock, curved over his belly, giving a weak throb when Miya lays his chest on the bed between Wakatoshi’s thighs, mouth hovering over the length of his dick.
Miya’s eyes lock onto his as he sticks his tongue out and licks from Wakatoshi’s fat balls up his shaft all the way to the head of his cock. They both groan - Wakatoshi, hurriedly, muffled into Tooru’s ass, and Tooru, at the sight. It’s clear he’s done this before by the teasing way he makes sure Wakatoshi’s cock is glistening in spit before he wraps his plump lips around the head and lowers down, taking him in one inch at a time.
Tooru licks his lips at the sight, leaning forward as much the position allows without detaching from Wakatoshi’s tongue to dig his fingers into Miya’s blond hair, helping push his head further down until he’s deep-throating and Wakatoshi’s thighs twitching in response. Tooru can see his throat swallow around the fat cock in his mouth, eyes welling.
Wakatoshi moans and bucks his hips up, lodging himself deeper. He pulls back and fucks up at the same time Tooru drags Miya by his hair to slam him back down, cock-full, lashes starting to wet. Not giving up the fast pace even when they’re both moaning pathetically, desperately, Miya’s cheeks ruddy and streaked, Wakatoshi’s body starting to tremble almost violently as he writhes against the sheets like he can get away with feeling less if he jerks one way or another. His grunts turn high and pleading, panicked, the shaking in his inner thighs constant.
He finally pulls his face out of Tooru’s ass to gasp, “I’m going to come if he continues,” sounding in control despite every inch of his body uncontrollably vibrating in anything but like he’s holding himself back through sheer will despite the overwhelming pleasure.
“Hear that, Atsu-chan?” Tooru drawls, “He might need time to get hard again so I’d stop working your cock raw or who’s left to fuck me.”
Miya whines and squints his eyes shut. His lips look red and swollen. Wakatoshi bucks hearing the word. They both sound lovably pathetic.
“Tell me when, Waka-chan,” he doesn’t have time to finish.
“I’m coming!” Wakatoshi groans.
Tooru tightens his fist on Miya’s hair, sees his teary eyes roll up. “Right now?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Fuck. I’m coming!” Wakatoshi repeats, faster, gruffer, whole body shaking with his orgasm.
He yanks Miya off just in time to see Wakatoshi’s throbbing thick cock shoot cum all over his pretty face. Miya’s panting for breath, and it gets everywhere, on his flushed cheeks, his forehead, clinging stickily to his lips. Tooru’s pleased with his work.
“If you don’t let me fuck you,” Miya sounds destroyed, can’t make it a full sentence without needing to fill his lungs.
“What?” Tooru challenges with a smirk.
Miya looks at him like he’s water in a dessert. “Please let me fuck you, fuck, you’re so fucking hot, baby.”
Hm. Baby is earned, and Tooru’s not sure Miya’s there yet.
“Clean up,” he asks, arranging himself off Wakatoshi’s flushed face by the time Miya’s back, cheeks wiped off any mess but no less pink or eager.
Tooru’s settled himself on Wakatoshi’s chest in between his legs, Wakatoshi propped up on the pillows, mouth nuzzling his shoulder. “I apologize.”
Tooru waves him off. “First one’s for the nerves. We’re gonna need you to stay hard for the next part - and put,” he emphasizes.
“Understood,” Wakatoshi replies just as Miya sits on the bed.
“What about me?” he jokes, picking a pillow to tuck it underneath Tooru’s waist, lifting his hips up on it.
“You’re no virgin,” Tooru shrugs. “You don’t have an excuse for cumming before I’m done.”
“Touché.” Miya laughs. “Guess that means I gotta get you real close.”
The first two fingers go in quickly. Tooru fucks himself often enough that he’s learned how to relax into the initial discomfort, letting his body accept the fullness that comes with it. Miya pours more lube than necessary, seems to love the sound his fingers make pressing in. It’s on his third finger that Tooru feels a sharp cramp and clenches tightly at the thought of what’s to come. Beneath him, Wakatoshi’s slowly hardening, half at first but poking into him with every sigh Miya’s able to pull from his lips.
Tooru’s done a lot but never this. Not that anyone has to know.
“Relax for me, pretty boy,” Miya soothes, his other hand rubbing the inside of his thigh. “Yer awfully tight, let me take care of you.”
Tooru forces his body to calm, clings to Wakatoshi’s neck with one hand to drag him down - a distraction. Focusing on kissing him - and it’s unfair how good of a kisser Wakatoshi is - makes the pain fade back again.
“Aren’t you going to praise me?” he asks against Wakatoshi’s mouth, nipping.
“You’re incredible,” Wakatoshi provides easily, smothering his insecurity with affection.
Miya brushes against his prostate, lighting up his body and making his cock bob. Tooru arches to chase the pleasure, and the two of them are right there, reading his every need, Miya lifting him up by his waist and Wakatoshi helping him, a strong arm around Tooru’s chest the other below his body on his back. He’s hanging in the air between them as Miya thrusts steadily into his ass, hitting his sweet spot every time. He turns his palm up and pushes the pinkie in alongside the other fingers, stretching him wider but giving him no time to ache.
He’s struggling to keep his eyes open and his head up without Wakatoshi’s chest to lean on when he’s ready, the intensity of the pleasure submerging him fully into what he knows is that vulnerable, delicious place he can go to with very few men, Iwaizumi, the most consistent. It’s hard to demand when he’s like this, and he’s scarcely satisfied if he can’t, no one seems to know how to get him there, so it’s best he stays alert. He’s about to force himself out of it when Miya steps up, the playful drawl gone from his tone. Just soothing firmness.
“You first, I’ll help you. We don’t have to move him. I’ll follow.”
Exactly, Tooru thinks, giddy. “If you break me, I’m breaking every finger on your hands, setter boy.”
Miya laughs. There’s pressure near his hole. Wakatoshi stifles a groan behind him, tightening his grip.
“You want it?” he says, lips pressed to Tooru’s neck. Tooru nods, but it’s doesn’t seem to be enough for Wakatoshi who’s asking even as his thick cock slowly slides inside. “You want me to fuck you?”
“You’re fucking him, big guy,” Miya says the line Tooru would have said.
They finally stop moving. Judging by how full Tooru feels when he tightens around the cock in his ass, Wakatoshi is all the way in.
“He’s quiet,” he says.
Tooru can feel the effort it’s taking him to hold back everywhere they’re pressed together. In the sweat dripping down Wakatoshi’s temple onto Tooru’s chest and the heaving breaths he’s taking, lifting Tooru’s body with them. Tooru’s searching for words to speak, for the sass that seemed so simple just moments earlier but his tongue is thick and his brain feels fuzzy.
“He’s okay,” Miya replies.
He reaches for Tooru’s face, brushing his fingers down his jaw gently. “No pain, right, darling? I got you all loose and ready?”
“If you don’t hurry up and make good on your promise, I’ll have him fuck my brains out while you watch.” Tooru smiles, softer than he’d intended.
“Attaboy.” Miya grins, kneeling between his legs and wrapping both arms under Tooru’s spread thighs to better position him so they both fit close enough that Tooru feels the head of his hard cock brush against his balls.
“Won’t work,” Wakatoshi grunts, “I’m too big. Won’t fit.”
“We’ll make it, won’t we, Tooru-chan?” Miya removes one of his hands from under his thigh to wrap it around his own cock and guide it closer. Tooru feels the wet head poke the area under his balls and arches at the tease, trapped between their bodies.
“Don’t move for me, okay?” He’s addressing Wakatoshi. “Keep him steady and don’t thrust. This’ll be tight.”
Tight is an understatement. The first breach of his cock on top of Wakatoshi’s already thick length shocks a quiver through Tooru’s body. “Breathe.”
“Too tight!”
“Oh fuck!” They all moan at once.
Miya presses in, and they all get closer as a result, Wakatoshi, a sturdy wall of muscle behind him, his large hands moving underneath Tooru’s thighs to help hold them spread for Miya to drive deeper, hands on either side of Tooru’s waist, dragging him on his cock like a sleeve. Up until the movement stops, Tooru doesn’t think it will work despite being the one to suggest it. Only when Miya’s above him, dripping sweat, eyes blown black, cheeks flushed, does Tooru know they’ve managed and the thought of having both of these big men inside him makes him as horny as the impossible fullness he feels.
“See?” Miya taunts Wakatoshi. They’re practically nose to nose with Tooru squished between them. They could kiss if they wanted to, and it’d probably jostle their cocks deeper inside. He’s about to suggest it when Miya speaks again.
“Now stay still and let us use you as a sex toy, hmm?” he murmurs, pulling out without totally separating and slamming back inside.
Tooru chokes with the burst of fantastic sensation. Wakatoshi sinks his teeth in his neck, gripping his thighs so hard it almost hurts. It’s overwhelming being able to feel the most he’s ever felt while similarly noticing every time Wakatoshi has to tighten his stomach to hold back the instinct to fuck or hold his breath to stop himself from moaning. Miya’s easier to unravel, despite being the one in control. The one moving for all three of them, picking the pace, testing and careful for the first few before descending into something much more solid and rough, as horny as the three of them, mouths on whatever patch of skin is closest, not minding the teeth or spit.
“This is the best - fuck - I’ve ever -” Miya blurts between deep breaths and keeping his mouth busy on Tooru’s. “How are you doing this?” he pants, eyes big with awe. “How are you so fucking hot?!”
“Beautiful, he’s beautiful,” Wakatoshi corrects behind him.
“He’s everything!”
Gosh, this will do wonders for his ego. He’s practically preening at the attention. They’re never leaving him untouched even when they occasionally go at each other’s mouths, more aggression than affection like they’re both filled with so much they don’t know how to handle it.
Tooru doesn’t think it can get any more but then Miya grabs his cock in his hand, and he keens high in his throat, having completely forgotten in the heat of being pushed and filled and fucked that he had one of those, and it felt this incredible and soul-wrenching fisting it. He clenches with the combined sensation, and, again, involuntarily, at how incredibly hot the garbled sounds the two men make at the action are, so desperate and pathetic for anything he’ll give them. If he tightens, they twitch and sing his praises. If he moans, they shake.
Wakatoshi presses his nose into the back of his neck. The breaths coming out of him are hot and labored. Clearly restraining himself from coming again. Miya’s too far gone to mock him. Tooru watches him bite his bottom lip and shut his eyes, shaking his head, swallowing moans. He starts to feel his orgasm build up just as Wakatoshi clutches him tightly to his chest and spills inside him, making Miya’s thrusts wet enough for him to fuck frantically, getting them both over the edge - Tooru’s body seizing explosively as his cock shoots over their chests.
They slump in a pile of sweaty limbs on top of each other, the room filling with nothing but their desperate heaves for breath. Miya’s nestled in his chest. It’s Wakatoshi who has enough sense to pull himself out, dragging Miya’s soft cock with him, too. Tooru sighs, sated.
“Yeah, I think I’m in love with you,” Miya mumbles against his body, nuzzling into a comfortable position that doesn’t care that Tooru’s trapped in Wakatoshi’s broad chest with Wakatoshi’s arms safely around him.
“Believe it or not, I get that a lot.” Tooru plays with his hair.
“Oh, I believe it,” Miya yawns like a kitten at the attention. “I don’t fucking doubt it. At all. At all,” he repeats, sleepier.
“I am also in love,” Wakatoshi pipes up, and it’s the teasing, amused tone in his usual deadpan voice that has Tooru’s heart skipping.
It’s not every day hot volleyball professionals tell you they’re in love with you. Well, for Tooru, it is every day. But they’re not usually this perfect mix of submissive and reliable, desperate enough to be pushed away repeatedly and confident to try again.
“I don’t mind the cuddle-fest but let’s wipe the cum off first,” Tooru tries to be rational, half-heartedly, not let the aftermath draw him into sleep.
“Nah,” Atsumu sighs, clinging to him closer.
“I’m good,” Wakatoshi murmurs against Tooru’s hair.
Well, at least he tried.