He licked his lips and reached for Kiyoomi’s belt. “Anythin’ y’like.”
“For… help on your… final project?” Kiyoomi hissed, as Atsumu’s deft fingers unbuckled and unbuttoned.
“Fuck it, Omi,” Atsumu shrugged, easing Kiyoomi’s jeans down his hips. “Maybe I just need a break from studyin’.”
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