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1.
The first time Suna thought about it, there wasn’t any basis in reality. It was just a fantasy, something he indulged himself in late at night after dipping his hand into his boxers. It wasn’t anything he gave serious consideration. It didn’t even seem like a possibility, actually. It was just that the twins were objectively hot, and he had crushes on both of them—Osamu, mostly, Atsumu, marginally—so it only made sense to jack off to the idea of them getting it on, because the only thing hotter than one Miya twin was both of them.
Sure, it was a little gross, but his fantasies were between him and the lord, alright? If he thought about the twins every time he jacked off, well, that wasn’t any of their business, was it? It got him harder than anything else, and that was all that mattered.
Suna wrapped a hand around his cock and let out a small sigh, stroking himself slowly from base to tip, eyes slipping shut and thoughts drifting into rather lewd territory. It started with thinking about the twins making out, Osamu nibbling on his brother’s lower lip, and Atsumu whining, clutching at his shoulders desperately and clawing at the thin fabric of their jerseys. Then, he imagined them slowly undressing, pictured their naked bodies, thought about them sucking each other off, fingering each other open, and fucking each other silly. He thought about Osamu kissing away drool on Atsumu’s chin, thought about Atsumu’s cute little mouth stuffed with his brother’s dick, thought about them both crying, about the way they’d squirm and writhe as they came, the way they’d pant out their words and struggle to talk, how their sweat soaked fringes would stick to their foreheads, how hot it’d be if they were actually incestuous, and fuck—
Suna bit down on his pillow to muffle a moan. His dick twitched, leaking in his grip as he thought about the twins. He sped up his hand and fucked into his fist, hips rocking forward and spit soaking his bedding. It only took a few more strokes before he was cumming with a small, barely audible whine vaguely shaped like one of the twin’s names, but he wasn’t sure which. He shuddered as he pulled his now sticky hand away, licking it clean and imagining it was Atsumu’s instead of his own, with Osamu ruffling his hair and telling him how pretty he was.
Even after he got off, he still liked to think about the twins. He was whipped. They were beautiful. He’d give the world for them to love him back. He wasn’t picky about which—Osamu or Atsumu, he’d take what he could get—but it’d be nice if they both did.
Suna yawned and laid back in his bed. He pulled his floral print covers over himself, rolling onto his side and curling up into the fetal position, nuzzling his pillow, which still had a patch of wet drool in the corner. He fell asleep quickly, snoring quietly all the while.
That night, he dreamt of the twins holding hands and exchanging sweet, soft ‘I love you’s in hushed voices as he watched, smiling happily.
2.
Naively, Suna thought things would continue like that. He figured his fantasies were nothing but, nothing more, and nothing worthy of consideration because, hot as it was, the twins couldn’t actually be incestuous, could they? It was just immoral spank bank material. It wasn’t serious. It was unthinkable, actually, completely unrealistic.
Except, now, Suna noticed the way the twins looked at each other, saw the slight glint in their eyes he’d been oblivious to previously.
Whenever Atsumu and Osamu locked eyes, they looked like they were starving. Their eyes were reminiscent of hunger and need, like they were minutes from tearing each other apart and devouring the remains; they looked sly, too, as if they were in on a secret meant only for them, something nobody else would ever know.
Suna wanted to know it, desperately.
He was shocked he hadn’t noticed it till now. It was so glaringly obvious, and it made him wonder if they really were fucking, because people who weren’t didn’t look at each other like that. They had to at least want it, he thought, since their expressions so closely mirrored the way his own brother looked at him. He knew he hunger, he knew lust, and he knew how they looked in the eyes of siblings that were fooling around or wishing they could.
After practice, Suna watched as Atsumu peeled his shirt off, and then he glanced at Osamu, taking in the sheer want that painted his features.
It was that look that made him genuinely start to consider the idea that maybe, just maybe, the twins did more than siblings were supposed to.
3.
A few weeks later, at lunch, Suna sat next to Osamu like always, munching on melon pan he bought from the cafeteria. Valentines day was quickly approaching, and the whole class chattered about it while they ate, girls squealing over their crushes and trying to goad each other into admitting they made chocolates, and boys wondering whether or not they’d get anything, boasting about the amount of confessions they got last year.
Suna had no interest in the topic. As a gay man, he was frequently ignored on valentines day, but he saw it as a chance to gauge whether or not Osamu was fucking Atsumu—or vice versa, he had no clue who would top between the two of them, if he were being honest.
“Hey, ‘Samu,” He said, looking up from his phone, “Are you excited for valentines day?”
Osamu shrugged. “I guess,” He said, “Chocolate’s never a bad thing.” He smiled, humming and taking a bite of the onigiri he brought for lunch. “Rejectin’ girls ‘s always a pain, though.”
Suna squinted. “But you’re single, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Osamu said, although he did hesitate for a moment.
“Maybe you’d be less single if you quit spending all your time with Atsumu and actually accepted somebody’s confession,” Suna said, trying his best to seem nonchalant about the topic, not wanting it to seem forced or like he was overly invested in his friend’s love life, “If I had even half as many admirers as you two, I sure as hell wouldn’t be single.”
Osamu frowned, almost pouting. “But I like spendin’ time with ‘Tsumu.”
“More than having a girlfriend?”
There was hesitation again, but Osamu answered, giving a small nod. “Yep, I love my brother, believe it or not. It’s fun bein’ total a jackass with him.” It wasn’t confirmation, but it wasn’t denial either. Suna wondered if he was being deliberately vague on purpose.
Maybe they really were fucking.
Osamu’s eyes narrowed. “Don’ tell him I said that. He’ll let it go to his head.”
Suna laughed. “The last thing he needs is a bigger ego,” He joked, taking a bite of his melon pan.
“Is that all yer eatin’?” Osamu asked, pointing to the sweet bread in Suna’s hand.
“Yeah,” Suna said, “I’m not too hungry.”
“Bullshit, ya gotta eat more, Sunarin, yer gonna be starvin’ by the time we get t’ practice,” He scolded, grabbing another onigiri from his bento and holding it in front of Suna’s face. “Eat this, ya twig.”
Suna blinked. His hands were full of phone and melon pan so, blushing, he leaned forward and took a bite of the onigiri, which was still in Osamu’s grip.
Their gazes met, and Suna could swear Osamu was looking at him the same way he looked at Atsumu.
4.
When Valentine’s day finally rolled around, practice was cancelled. Turns out, teen boys couldn’t focus on anything when they were busy tripping over themselves to one up each other, brag about all the chocolate they got, skim through their love letters, and think about which confession they were going to accept. Especially teen boys on the volleyball team, because most of them were fairly popular.
Even Suna, an out gay man who kept to himself, recieved a few chocolates from girls and love letters. He got a confession from a boy in the grade beneath him, too, but politely declined it with a vague dismissal of “I’m interested in someone else” so that he didn’t have to admit he was head over heels for the school’s biggest idiots.
Since there was no practice, most of the team decided to walk home together, carrying their Valentine’s day goodies and laughing, cheerful and lighthearted.
Osamu and Atsumu pooled their chocolates and carried them all in a large bag they stole from the art room. It was impressive how much they received, actually. Suna knew they were popular, but this was a little ridiculous. Just how many chocolates were in that bag? How many girls confessed to them? They all knew they’d be rejected, right? The twins were notorious for turning down anyone and everyone who asked them out which, now that Suna thought about it, was even more of a reason to suspect the nature of their relationship.
“Wow,” Aran said, whistling lowly and eyeing the bag, “Damn, man, I feel sorry for all those girls. Does it get tirin’ rejectin’ em’ all?”
Ginjima laughed. “They probably get off on it,” He said, “Y’know, bein’ heartbreakers and all.”
“I bet they’re too busy suckin’ each other off to care about confessions,” Akagi joked, snickering.
Atsumu whipped his head around to glare at him, face bright red. “Gross!” He yelled, “Don’t joke ‘bout that! We’re brothers, ‘s traumatizin’ to hear!”
Faintly, Suna could hear Akagi apologize, but he was too busy staring at Osamu, taking note of how the tips of his ears were pink now and how he stared down at his feet. Atsumu, too, seemed visibly flustered.
It could’ve been disgust, but Suna thought it was something else. Call it confirmation bias, but he was almost certain the twins were fucking.
5.
The next day, after practice, Suna walked out of the showers just in time to see the twins pulling their sweat pants up, their thighs littered with an array of matching hickies and bite marks. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
Both of the twins were single, and they would’ve bragged about getting hook ups nonstop if they’d managed to get laid with somebody they could talk about. Even if they weren’t single, or if they’d actually hooked up with a stranger, that wouldn’t explain why it all matched .
Before, he only had vague hints and a solid idea but, now, he had concrete proof. He stood in the doorway, unmoving, and watched as the twins grabbed their gym bags and left the club room. They were talking and laughing, but Suna couldn’t hear it over the sound of his heartbeat and heavy breathing, blood quickly rushing to both of his heads.
He wondered what they were doing when they left all those hickies. Were they taking turns sucking each other off? Was it in their room last night, or was it in the club room earlier, when Kita asked them to straighten up the equipment stored there? Was it brought on by Akagi’s joke yesterday? Or unrelated? Were they loud? Were they quiet? Did they choke on each other’s cocks, gagging, struggling to fit it all down their throats? Or, was it easy for them, did they both lack gag reflexes, either naturally or from fucking them out of each other? Did they spit? Did they swallow? Suna felt dizzy and horribly turned on.
“Holy shit,” He mumbled to no one, since the club room was empty save for him, “The twins really are fucking.”
He turned around and went back to the showers, letting any proof of his arousal slip down the drain alongside warm water.
+1
The late February air was cold against Suna’s reddened cheeks, and he could see his breath as he panted, running back across the school grounds in a hurry, hoping and praying the clubroom was still unlocked. A week had passed since he saw the twins covered in hickies. Usually, he’d rather die than hurry like this, but he left his gym bag in his locker which, honestly, wouldn’t be a huge deal if it weren’t for that fact that his phone sat imprisoned in there without him. And, really, how on earth was he supposed to survive without it? Huh? How was he supposed to make it through the night without stupid apps and discord chats? Without Twitter? Without his shitty alt indie music and emo bands?
It was already dark out, so he was sure everyone had gone home by now, but the twins were in charge of locking up tonight which meant there was a greater than zero chance of the door being unlocked. The Miyas had one brain cell shared between the two of them, and that single cell still managed to be dumber than rocks. Suna wouldn’t be surprised if they forgot to lock up, or if they decided against it entirely, too eager to get home and see who could eat pudding the fastest or whatever stupid shit they spent their time doing.
When he made it to the clubroom door, he was relieved to find it unlocked, and turned the doorknob easily, swinging it open. The relief of it all was short-lived when he saw the twins wrapped up in each other's arms, lips locked in a heated embrace as they swapped spit, making out passionately.
Suna shut the door behind himself, and they scrambled apart in a frenzied panic, Atsumu combing a hand through his hair and Osamu staring off into space blankly, looking like his entire world was ending. Fuck . He caught them in the act, and it was hotter than he imagined. He wanted so badly for them to go back to kissing, thought about begging for it to happen, but he couldn’t find the words.
The three of them stood there in awkward, tense, charged silence, the room hot and stuffy until, finally, Atsumu cleared his throat. “Did ya need something?” He asked, voice cracking.
Suna nodded stiffly. “I, uh, forgot my gym bag,” He mumbled, shuffling his feet together and shifting around uncomfortably, hands placed in front of the crotch of his uniform pants in an attempt to hide his growing erection because, again, holy shit that brief glimpse of them making out was the single most arousing sight he’d seen in his entire life. He made no move to walk towards his locker.
“Ya won’t tell, right?” Atsumu asked quietly, after another long pause, “Like, seriously, don’ tell anyone. It’d ruin us.”
“I won’t tell,” Suna said, biting his lip. “Promise.”
“Then, uh, hurry up and get yer bag so ‘Samu and I can… Yeah.” Atsumu gestured to his brother, who still looked like he was witnessing a car wreck.
In his head, Suna knew all he had to do was shuffle over, grab his bag, and leave. But, unfortunately, doing so would make it very clear he was hard; walking with his hands over his crotch would make it just as obvious as walking without them over his crotch. He felt his soul leave his body, and his feet stayed planted on the ground, frozen in place, face red.
“Go get it,” Atsumu repeated, a bit harsher now.
Suna shook his head, blush slowly creeping all the way to the tips of his ears. “Can’t,” He muttered weakly, not offering any other explanation.
Atsumu stared at him for a moment, confused and annoyed, but things clicked in his head after a bit and he smirked. “Oh, yeah? Why not?”
“No reason,” Suna lied, flustered.
“Then why don’tcha lift yer hands for me, Sunarin?” He drew, taking a step closer.
Suna didn’t want to. Really, he didn’t, he was sure doing so would make him die of embarrassment, but Atsumu was hot and he didn’t have it in him to resist. Nervously and obediently, he lifted his hands into the air just slightly, showing off the obvious tent in his slacks. He averted his gaze, ashamed.
“Looks like somebody liked what he saw,” Atsumu chuckled, “What? Do ya think ‘Samu and I are hot or somethin’?”
Suna nodded despite himself. “Yeah,” He admitted, a bit breathlessly, “I do.” He paused, then continued, “I, uh, think about you two almost every night when I touch myself…” He probably didn’t have to admit that last part, but it was too late to take it back now, and Atsumu didn’t seem grossed out by it either.
If anything, he looked like he was into it. Osamu, too, had finally snapped out his existential dread, and stared Suna down, sporting a smirk matching his brother’s.
The atmosphere in the room shifted, and Suna gulped, suddenly feeling small despite being taller than the twins. Their gazes were intense, and they stared down at him like a predator sizing up their prey, thinking of all the ways they could slaughter them and eat them whole, bones and all. He shuddered.
The twins exchanged a look, and then Atsumu reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of lube, tossing it over to Suna, who caught it without fumbling. His admirable athletics and perception didn’t fail him, even when he was harder than a rock.
“Well, if ya touch yerself to the thought of us, why don’tcha be a good boy and finger yerself open while ya watch, hm?” Atsumu said, “Sit down on the bench, we might even fuck ya after.”
Suna nearly moaned in response to the words alone, and he nodded, kicking his pants off and taking a seat on the clubroom bench, uncapping the lube and squirting it out onto his fingers, spreading it between them and warming the liquid up.
Atsumu crossed to where Osamu was, and the two returned to their heated embrace from earlier, kissing hungrily with soft, breathless noises leaving their lips as they made out, open mouthed, all tongue and teeth.
It was better than porn could ever be. Suna pushed a finger into his ass, pumping it in and out, keeping his gaze fixed on the twins as he added a second, brushing them against his prostate and moaning. He scissored them as the twins began to grind against each other and, true to his fantasy, Osamu bit his brother’s lower lip and Atsumu gripped at his shoulders needily, mewling. Suna added a third finger once he was ready, and he fucked himself on them, cursing under his breath.
Eventually, Atsumu pulled away from the kiss, and he started kissing Osamu’s neck, biting and sucking and leaving hickies. Osamu groaned, and reached a hand out to grab Suna’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact rather than watch where Atsumu’s crotch ground against his ass.
Osamu brushed his thumb over Suna’s lips. “Yer so pretty, Sunarin,” He hummed, smirking when Suna moaned, thrusting his hand even faster and curling his fingers, back arching. He pushed his thumb into Suna’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue and rubbing a small circle into the muscle, feeling the spit pool around it. “Have ya ever sucked a guy off?”
Suna tried to say yes, but all that came out was a garbled, desperate sound, so he nodded his confirmation instead.
“Oh? So yer a little whore then?” Osamu asked.
Suna whimpered, but nodded again. He didn’t get laid too often, but he had his fair share of one night stands with whoever took interest in him—mostly straight guys questioning their sexuality, guys who saw his longer hair and more feminine nature as a safe bet, who wanted him to wear his eyeliner in bed.
Osamu pushed his thumb in deeper then pulled it out slightly, repeating the action and fucking Suna’s mouth with his fingers. Submissively, Suna started to suck on them, even as drool dribbled down his chin. “That’s a good slut,” Osamu praised, chuckling, “So beautiful like this. Such a good boy.”
The praise mixed with degradation went straight to his dick, and Suna felt it twitch in interest, leaking all over the bench and his belly.
“Do ya wanna get fucked?” Osamu asked, pulling his fingers out and wiping the spit in Suna’s dark brown hair.
“Please,” Suna said, “Please, I want you so bad.”
Atsumu chuckled and pulled off of Osamu’s neck. “Ya call that beggin’? We gave ya a free show, we deserve better.”
Suna whimpered. “Please fuck me,” He tried, whining as he pressed his fingers into his prostate again, “You two are so hot, I’ve wanted this for so long, want it so bad, I need you, need you both. Please, please, please .”
“Do ya think that was good?” Atsumu asked, turning to his twin.
Osamu shrugged. “Not great, but it was enough,” He said, “I know ya like makin’ people beg, but I wanna fuck Sunarin.”
Atsumu frowned. “Who says ya get to fuck him? I thought ya wanted his mouth, ya seemed to be all over it a few seconds ago.”
“Well, yeah, ’s hot, but I want his ass,” Osamu argued, “You know I’ve been eyein’ it for months now. I should be the one to fuck him. You take his mouth, ‘s hot enuff, ain’t it?”
“But I’m the one who gave him the lube! I should get to fuck him-”
Before the twins could argue further, Suna interrupted them with a whine, still fucking himself on his fingers. “Please, just figure it out already, I wanna get fucked so bad,” He pleaded, eyes watery. While the twins arguing about him like he wasn’t there was arousing, it was also endlessly frustrating, and he knew the twins could argue over the pettiest shit for hours. If they fought for that long, his dick might go soft, and that sounded like hell. He wanted to get fucked, goddammit.
Osamu nodded. He turned to Atsumu. “Rock paper scissors, then.”
“Best two out of three?” Atsumu tried.
“Do ya think Sunarin has the patience for that?” He asked, rolling his eyes. “Just one round. Winner gets his ass.”
Atsumu huffed, but nodded, “Alright.”
The twins played their admittedly stupid game, and Osamu won. He beamed, holding his little scissor hands in the air, as if to gloat. “Hah!” He grinned, “I get to fuck him!”
“Please, just fuck me already,” Suna said, pulling his hand out of his ass and spreading his legs in invitation, lube dripping out of him and onto the bench. “I’m dying over here, ‘Samu.”
“So needy.” Chuckling, Osamu pulled a condom out of his pocket and ripped it open, pulling it onto his dick. He lubed himself up and then, slowly, thrusted into Suna, relishing in the long, drawn out moan the action pulled from the middle blocker.
Suna turned to Atsumu and laid back on the bench. “Fuck my mouth?” He said, parting his lips, drool still running down his chin.
Atsumu might’ve lost at rock paper scissors, but he still felt like a winner. Suna was hot like this, he had to admit, his messiness and willing submission was more than a little arousing. He walked over and gripped Suna’s jaw in his hand, looking down at him. “Are ya gonna be a good boy and swallow?” He asked, dick hovering in front of Suna’s mouth. Instead of answering, Suna hummed and wrapped his lips around Atsumu’s head, lapping his tongue over it and sucking lightly before relaxing his jaw, so Atsumu could fuck his face.
The twins exchanged a look, just like they had before this whole ordeal started, and seemed to silently decide to wreck Suna. Without any warning or preambled, Osamu started fucking Suna at a fast pace, and Atsumu matched it, making Suna gag and choke around him, tears bubbling up in his eyes and he struggled to breathe, and all he could do was lay there and take what the twin were giving him, and it was heaven . He begged for this, and it was worth every degrading, humiliating second.
It took a bit, but Osamu found his prostate, and was now hitting it dead on with each thrusting, causing Suna to moan loudly, the sound muffled by Atsumu’s cock. His back arched and his toes curled, and it was so, so good, but it wasn’t nearly enough. His dick kept twitching, desperate to be touched, and precum was pooling on his stomach. He needed more stimulation, but the twins were selfish, seaking only their own pleasure. Whether or not Suna felt good was secondary to whether or not they got off.
Atsumu tugged at his hair and came down his throat with a shout, and Suna swallowed, gasping for air when Atsumu finally pulled out. He panted, breathing deeply and finally, mercifully, Osamu wrapped a hand around his dick and started stroking it at a pace matching his hips.
Suna only lasted a few minutes before he moaned out weakly, “I-I’m cumming-” and spilled onto himself.
Osamu came too, gripping Suna’s thighs tightly and then pulling out, tying the condom and tossing it to the side.
The three of them sat there for a bit, basking in the afterglow before Atsumu spoke up, ruining their good moods.
“Kita-san’s gonna kill us if we don’t clean up.”