not a thread, just a little skts shotgunning brainrot inspired by oomf-

"I've never smoked anything, Omi."
Kiyoomi thinks that's sort of ridiculous. But it's also typical of most athletes and most people who have a vested interest in their lung health. +

Kiyoomi wouldn't touch a cigarette himself, but this...

"You don't have to. Come here."

Atsumu is drawn in, sliding into Kiyoomi's orbit like there's no place else he'd rather be. His eyes are on the joint pinched between Omi's fingers, a little frown creasing his brows.+

Kiyoomi tips his head up with his opposite hand. "You know what shotgunning is?"

Atsumu nods, eyes dropping to his lips. "Yeah. That's pretty romantic, Omi-Omi."

"We're dating," Kiyoomi says drily.

"Oh, then I guess you should romance me a little." Atsumu grins.+

Kiyoomi breaks the grin with one touch. He brushes his thumb against Atsumu's lower lip and his mouth goes soft, lips parting. "Breathe in. Okay?"

Atsumu nods. Kiyoomi turns his head away to take a drag, pulling harder and deeper than he usually would to store up enough smoke. +

When he turns his head back, Atsumu is waiting with parted lips, eyes a little wider than usual.

Kiyoomi leans in and holds his chin in place. He exhales slowly and hears the soft click of Atsumu's throat as he inhales. It's intimate, feeding someone his own breath. +

Pressing life past his lips for someone else to take, recycle, breath out again as something different.

The high hits when he's out of air to give. He doesn't move, watching Atsumu's eyes slowly grow hazy as he lets out the smoke in a quiet cloud. +

Kiyoomi can feel it against his lips and sucks in without thinking, desperate to take some part of Atsumu for himself.

"Again, Omi," Atsumu whispers. He's close enough that their lips brush.

"In a minute." Kiyoomi tilts his head forward and closes the distance. //end