Chapter Text
It'd been a month since things... escalated between them. Iwaizumi hasn’t killed Oikawa yet, so he considers that a plus.
In fact, despite their hectic schedules, Iwaizumi now found himself spending more and more time with his damn menace of a chemistry partner.
They still spent hours bickering over their notes in the library, sure, but now they’d continue the evening by watching sci-fi classics in the comfort of Iwaizumi's living room, or competing at the gym long after they had officially closed.
Oikawa especially loved when he got to witness Iwaizumi's household cooking in real time, going so far as to request if "Iwa-chan could wear the apron without anything else on, please?" He got a good kick in the ass for that one.
Call it Stockholm Syndrome or call it being 'whipped', Iwaizumi couldn't help but notice how comfortable it all felt. There was no real script to follow for a boy like him falling in love with a boy like Oikawa, as far as he knew. But he knew that dating someone was supposed to be a 'big deal', full of romantic gestures and grand declarations of love.
What they had together felt more like what they'd had before: a fated rivalry turned friendship turned into— well, whatever it was that let him finally end their many arguments by tackling Oikawa with furious kisses instead of flying fists.
(Or sometimes, when Oikawa was especially annoying: furious kisses and flying fists.)
When he brought it up to Kuroo one morning during their run, how natural everything felt despite recent R-rated developments, he was informed with unrestrained glee that that's what happens when you're with the right person, loverboy. But what did that pointy-haired jerk know, anyway?
(Apart from his experience dating his best friend for over a decade, of course.)
From time to time, Iwaizumi did catch himself wondering what that would've been like, meeting Oikawa earlier. Maybe he would've killed him in cold blood long before he realized he'd fallen for the asshole. Maybe they would've started dating much sooner.
Maybe he even would've played volleyball longer had he had someone to compete with, someone who riled him up and sparked that hunger to strive for more.
But he didn't have time to think about those things, not with their finals coming up. They hadn't even had time to get up to anything more since that first night together. Damn Kuroo and his terrible sleep schedule.
Speaking of which--
“The enzyme adapts to fit a substrate’s shape...“ Oikawa recites quietly next to him in the library, lifting his arm to splay his fingers wide in the air. Iwaizumi mirrors him without thinking, caught up in the way Oikawa's long eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. The fucker was so goddamn distracting, and the worst part was that now he knew Iwaizumi was a sucker for it.
“And vice versa, like this,” Oikawa grabs his hand to thread their fingers together. “So they can fit perfectly, and create something together that they couldn’t have been apart. Seeking each other, finding each other, holding on, and then letting go, forever changed.”
“You love holding my hand, don’t you,” Iwaizumi tells him, shaking their clasped hands in front of Oikawa’s face, and Oikawa splutters wordlessly. "You goddamn pretty boy flirt."
“So what if I do? Is that so wrong?"
"Shut up," Iwaizumi chastises. He has half a mind to whack him one, but the trouble is it wouldn't be proper punishment; he has a sneaking suspicion with every damn day they spend together that Oikawa's got some nasty kinks he’s accidentally been indulging just with his natural personality. “Listen, dumbass. I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh?” Oikawa asks with a cheeky grin, oblivious to his telepathic scolding. They're still holding hands, but Iwaizumi pretends he doesn't notice. Maybe it’s not so bad, or whatever. “Is it dirty, Iwa-chan? Please tell me it is."
“No, you damn pervert. Also, stop being so loud, we're already on the library watchlist.” Oikawa's grin only widens, and the masochist allegations remain. “We need to actually study for our final next week. No more bullshit, and no more flirting. Help me focus or I’ll hole up in here otherwise, and you won't get to see me until the day of the exam.”
“Is that a threat?” Oikawa’s bright brown eyes glimmer in ways far too appealing for a simple Thursday afternoon. Damnit, was he as much of a pervert as Oikawa? Was freak contagious after all? “You'd miss me too much, Iwa-chan, don't kid yourself. I can’t promise no "bullshit", as you say, but let’s do it. We’re going to make so many flashcards... hey!”
“What did I say?” Iwaizumi admonishes, having reached over to pinch Oikawa’s arm. “I meant it.”
"Fine, fine. Let's make a wager, then," Oikawa flips to a page of the textbook to material they'd learned closer to the beginning of the semester. Iwaizumi can’t believe there was a time that he found any of that difficult, but he supposes that’s the reward of a proper studying routine. "We can't have proper sex until the semester ends."
"Why are you speaking so damn loud?" Iwaizumi yells as quietly as he can, which is not very quiet at all. "Do you want to die?”
"What can I say? I have plans," Oikawa admits with a dreamy smile. Iwaizumi hates that he wants to know what he has in mind. "But I want you to wait for it. Give you something to look forward to."
"How does your evil, conniving ass brain even come up with this stuff?"
"I'm a man of many talents, Iwa-chan. Anyway, you can't touch yourself, either," Oikawa instructs, pointing his pen at him menacingly. "You have to save all that for me. I'll take care of it."
"What the--"
"In fact, since I can tell you're into it..." Oikawa looks around surreptitiously. "Maybe I'll help you take the edge off."
"It's the middle of the day!"
"No one's here," Oikawa shrugs, but something in his gaze tells Iwaizumi he likes the thrill of knowing that there could be.
What a goddamn demon.
"You want to?"
Iwaizumi balks wordlessly, but the growing bulge in his jeans informs him that yes, duh, of course he wants to, as his palms leak sweat all over his jeans. Even his own body was betraying him, but that didn't mean his morals had to. "This is a public place! This is the library!"
"Then I suggest you follow the rules, Iwa-chan," Oikawa whispers as his long ass fingers crawl toward his zipper, "and keep quiet."
“You don’t want to know what’s going to happen if you don’t stop looking at me like that,” Iwaizumi warns.
“Who says I don’t?” Oikawa breathes, his eyes darting between his eyes and his mouth before ducking closer to whisper in his ear. “I wish I could ride you right now. Like we talked about, right here in the library. You think you could still concentrate?”
Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa until he's nice and secure on his lap, bracketing his hands around Oikawa’s hips and squeezing, possessive and playful.
Two could play at this game, and like hell was Iwaizumi going to lose.
“Fuck no,” he grits out. “And I wouldn’t want to.”
Oikawa watches him with wild, dilated eyes. He already looks debauched, and they haven't even done anything yet. “Why not?”
“Because we’d be banned forever,” Iwaizumi slaps his ass without warning to a resounding yelp from Oikawa. “But I’d be too busy enjoying the view.”
”C’mere, big guy,” Oikawa paws at his pants until he finally frees his dick from the slit in his boxers, because he's a heathen, and Iwaizumi genuinely cannot believe they're actually doing this. "Let me see what you've got."
In the library, for god's sake.
What he can't deny, though, is how enthralling it is when Oikawa slinks down from his lap to the floor onto his knees, tilting his face upward to kiss at his leaking, throbbing cock.
“Goddammit,” Iwaizumi curses. Oikawa looks so incredible down there, staring up at him with his wide, unblinking eyes as he slurps him down into that annoying, beautiful, perfect mouth of his.
“Mmm,” Oikawa moans, his lips shiny and wet with precome. “You taste so good, Hajime.”
Iwaizumi threads furious hands into his hair, preparing to pull him off for the sake of responsibility, but one eyebrow raise from Oikawa makes him simply hold on for dear life.
“Fuck,” he groans, finally giving in. “You look so fucking hot, Tooru.”
Oikawa wraps his hand around him and jerk him off with a tight, sure grip, licking at his cockhead with a quick tongue while he catches his breath. “You’re going to do well on that exam,” He instructs, kissing the tip lovingly before wrapping his lips around it and off with a pop. “I piss you off so bad, right, Iwa-chan? This is how I'll make it up to you."
“You damn tease,” Iwaizumi replies, because he can’t think of anything else except how syrupy sweet and demanding Oikawa is, both hungry and irresistible when he’s on his knees all for him. “Fuck, Shittykawa, anything you want.”
“Yeah? Anything?” Oikawa grins cheekily, dragging Iwaizumi’s cock around his lips and against his cheeks. There’s a mess of precum all over his face that he chases with his tongue, and Iwaizumi can feel his own mouth water with the desire to taste. "Don't you go and tempt me with a good time. All I want right now is for you to cum."
“Suck it, then,” Iwaizumi growls, forgetting himself as he holds his cock aloft to feed it into Oikawa’s mouth. “Please, I need—“
Oikawa dutifully leans forward and swallows as much of Iwaizumi’s cock as he can, his eyes wide and alluring as he bobs his head in his lap. He looks obscene, slurping him down, cock leaking everywhere, desperate to get as much of him down his throat as he can.
"You're being so good for me," Oikawa cries. "My ace."
“Tooru,” Iwaizumi nearly shouts, forgetting where they are, trying desperately to keep himself from fucking his face. “Tooru, you’re being so good for me, I’m gonna—“
He stifles his shout with a fist stuffed in his mouth as he fills Oikawa with cum, pleasure sparking behind his eyelids as he slumps against the chair. Oikawa swallows as much as he can and licks away the rest, politely tucking him away in his boxers before he rises to stand.
“Thank you for the meal,” he says with a wink. “I hope you enjoyed your reward, because we're definitely going to get banned from how loud you just were.”
"Goddamnit," Iwaizumi mutters, wiping spare cum on his pants. “We’re going to hell for that for sure.”
"You're going to hell for doing that to a perfectly good pair of slacks."
"Oh, yeah?" Iwaizumi wiggles his fingers in front of his face. "You want some more?"
"Noooo!" Oikawa yips, all remaining endorphins forgotten as he runs down the hall, fly still undone. "Anything but my Versace jeans, Iwa-chan! They gave me this during last spring's campaign, and I won't let you ruin it!"
Iwaizumi jumps out of his chair, smirking deliriously. He really did find a way to boil his blood, but like hell if he was complaining.
Maybe he'd needed a little wake-up call in the name of Oikawa Tooru all along.
"I'm coming for you, rich boy!" He yells, hastily zipping up his own pants before running after him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Are you wearing a suit?” Oikawa screeches when Iwaizumi walks into their classroom on the day of their final.
Iwaizumi smirks. He looks good, then.
“What's it look like, Shittykawa? I figured I’d dress for the occasion, seeing as I’m about to beat your ass,” he says smugly. "I told you I knew how to step it up now and then."
Oikawa grins, unabashedly looking him up and down. "I stand corrected, Iwa-chan," he murmurs, stalking toward him like an animal assessing its prey. “You really don’t play fair. How am I supposed to concentrate when you look like this?”
Irihata-sensei even smiles when he sees his get-up, a deep black suit Iwaizumi got fitted in for his cousin’s wedding last year. He’s bulked up slightly since then, so it's not a perfect fit-- but Oikawa doesn’t seem to mind from the way he’s trying to keep his drool in his mouth.
“Please move your seat a little further away, Oikawa-kun,” Irihata-sensei admonishes him gently before handing him his exam. “And good luck to you.”
"Meet me after class, OK? Keep the suit on," Oikawa whispers. "And may the best man win."
"Prepare to lose," Iwaizumi sneers.
Once he begins the exam, Iwaizumi forgets about everything else for a while— too busy analyzing every question with the utmost precision. It feels nearly easy to complete after all the preparation he and Oikawa managed to achieve, even with the few challenging questions he stumbles onto here and there.
Oikawa submits his exam first, but Iwaizumi's not far behind. He turns to see that the entire class is still sitting behind him, not even halfway through the material it took him mere minutes to review. He tries his best not to fidget anxiously in his chair as Irihata-sensei slowly collects the remaining exams from their peers.
“I’ll be back once I run these through the scanner,” Irihata-sensei announces. “Then, I’ll call you out into the hall to give you your final grade. That way, no one has to wonder how they did in the course. I know this class was stressful for a lot of you, but it's finally over!”
The class cheers. Iwaizumi peeks over at Oikawa, who is beaming from ear to ear. We did it, he mouths, and Iwaizumi can't help but return his grin.
When had it stopped feeling like a true competition between them?
“Iwaizumi-kun and Oikawa-kun!” Irihata-sensei calls a few moments later, interrupting his thoughts.
They immediately look at each other, startled.
When had they become a team?
They head out into the hallway, and Irihata-sensei waits patiently until the door is shut behind them to speak.
“Congratulations, boys. You both aced your final.” He smiles at their twin sighs of relief. “I wouldn’t say the same about your conduct, but I can tell you truly pushed each other to perform at your best. You’ve gotten here together, so it only felt right to call you out together, too.”
“We did, didn’t we, Sensei?” Oikawa beams, hooking his elbow with Iwaizumi’s. “Apologies for Iwa-chan, though. He’s a little rough around the edges.”
“Is that so, Oikawa-kun?” Irihata-sensei asks, and something about the glint in his eye is all Iwaizumi needs to see that he knows. “You seem to be getting along with one another just fine these days.”
“He’s alright,” Iwaizumi interjects, while Oikawa blushes a faint pink. “Just takes a bit of getting used to.”
“Yes, well, I’m wishing you both good luck,” he finally takes a damning glance at their entangled hands. “And congratulations.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“So, what do you want?” Oikawa asks from the comfort of his couch, dressed warmly one of Iwaizumi's soft hoodies. Iwaizumi heads toward him with a couple of steaming mugs of tea.
“I didn’t win,” Iwaizumi resists the urge to smile at Oikawa's grabby hands attempting to snake around his waist. “I’m coming, relax. I got the same score as you.”
“Come here, you oaf. And yes, you got the same score as me,” Oikawa opens up the blanket, beckoning him inside his nest. “Which means I am no longer the top student in the class; we both are. You did what you wanted to do. You beat me.”
“I guess I did,” Iwaizumi relents, letting himself be pulled in and bundled up, snuggling against the curve of Oikawa’s body. “But I don’t want that anymore. We aced the class together.”
“Still. Who am I not to reward my ace?” Oikawa presses a kiss against the nape of his neck, and Iwaizumi shivers. “What would you want?”
“You know what I want." Iwaizumi lowers his voice as lips trace the shell of his ear.
“Yeah?” Oikawa whispers with a soft, pleased smirk as he grasps his face with large, warm palms, gazing into his eyes.
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi murmurs, caught under the barely restrained hunger he sees mirrored there.
Oikawa raises his brows. “Now?”
“In like a bit, if you want,” Iwaizumi tips his head back onto his shoulder. “I just got comfortable here.”
He closes his eyes then, taking a nice deep breath. Goddamnit if it didn't feel good to finally relax after such a tough semester. He sighs deeply, smiling as Oikawa's hands skate playfully over his bare abdomen. It felt all the more satisfying knowing that he had been challenged over and over again, but he'd managed to overcome each and every obstacle.
Hell, maybe he could shoot for the stars, too.
"I want to play with you again," Iwaizumi hears himself murmur.
"On the court?" Oikawa asks, squeezing him tight around the middle before pressing a kiss in his hair affectionately. "Give me a date and a time, and I'll open up the gym for us."
"Relax, hotshot," Iwaizumi laughs. "Maybe next week, if you can."
"Anything for you, Iwa-chan," Oikawa trails another kiss along his neck before he begins getting bolder, running his hands along his thighs with a hum as Iwaizumi shifts between his legs. "Anything at all."
Iwaizumi senses something hard against his ass and smirks.
He begins slowly grinding back against that bulge of his, but hisses once Oikawa scrapes his teeth against his jugular.
“Alright,” He tosses the blanket to the side, looking down to observe how obscene the tent in his sweats has become. He grabs Oikawa's hand to drag him into his room, closing the door behind them with a resounding thud. “Let’s go.”
Oikawa's eyes skate over Iwaizumi’s body before flickering back to his with a certain intensity he’s never seen from him before. “I need that shirt off. Honestly, everything needs to be off, immediately.”
Iwaizumi rips his shirt off without breaking eye contact, staring at Oikawa with prideful eyes. Still, he backs up as Oikawa crowds him closer to the door.
“So you want to be spoiled, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks, his voice nonchalant as he places his hands on either side of Iwaizumi’s head, nudging a knee dangerously close to his crotch. “For all your hard work?”
“Fuck you,” Iwaizumi lifts his face a little. Fuck, he’s into this–- the way Oikawa towers over him, close and heavy and hot.
“Let me see,” Oikawa scrapes a soft line against Iwaizumi’s abs with a nail. He traces along his pectorals before finally reaching his nipples, making Iwaizumi shudder as he tilts his face higher even as his cheeks burn.
“That’s right, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa murmurs. “God, I’m barely touching you.” He pinches one between two fingers, and Iwaizumi bites back a keening noise. “Look at you, so needy too.”
“Shut up,” Iwaizumi grumbles before Oikawa ducks down to begin kissing the skin right at the juncture of his jaw.
“Gladly,” Oikawa replies, and suddenly he’s lowering himself on his knees, tugging at the waistband of Iwaizumi’s boxers to his knees. Iwaizumi’s cock springs out, thick and fat against his mouth.
Oikawa licks his lips. What a troublemaker, that one.
"You always get so wet for me," he teases, licking innocently at the head of his cock. "Leaking all over your boxers, yeah? Just from a little heavy petting."
“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi moans, unable to tear his eyes away as Oikawa hollows his throat, sucking on his cock dutifully while using two of his fingers to softly rub behind his balls. Those goddamn talented hands. "I haven't come in a week, what did you expect--"
"I wanted you needy like this," Oikawa admits, popping off of his cock with an obscenely wet sound. "So you could tell me what you want."
"Oh, yeah? And what is that?"
"This," Oikawa hoists him up with a grunt as he carries him to the bed only to dump him unceremoniously on the duvet. He crawls toward him on his knees, placing Iwaizumi’s heels on his shoulders before grinding against him. He was big, screw him, and so goddamn strong, and Iwaizumi just wanted him to--
“Fuck, fine," he chokes out. “I want you, Shittykawa. C’mon.”
"I know you do," Oikawa smirks. "You left some interesting cleaning supplies in the bathroom."
"Damnit," Iwaizumi curses before Oikawa wraps his hand around his cock again to jerk him off to full mast, so heavy with blood he sags under the gravity of his wanting.
"You prepped yourself, too?" he asks, taking a meaty, muscular thigh in each hand and holding him high in the air with ease. Iwaizumi feels the blood rush to his head as he's held up in a semi-handstand for Oikawa's viewing pleasure. "Let me see."
"You dumbass, wait--"
Oikawa leans down to give his asshole a proprietary lick. “Oh, you like this,” He teases once Iwaizumi struggles in his grasp, feet kicking up in the air. "God, you're so hot." He curls his tongue and prods inside him exploratorily. Iwaizumi blinks rapidly, either from the head rush or the prostate stimulation, he doesn't know.
"I'm not a goddamn acrobat," he huffs. "Let me lie on my stomach, you sadist."
"Ugh, fine," Oikawa coos, easing up the tight grip of his thighs to flip him over. "Why don't you show me the fruit of your labor?"
"You going to shut the fuck up, or should I make you?" Iwaizumi interrupts. Any sense of shame he felt about this is long gone as he lifts his hips and spreads his legs apart for better access.
All he is now is hungry and wet, his cock leaking just at the sound of Oikawa's dark chuckle. He gets to work, though, licking him open and out like he’s dying to taste him as he curls and twists his tongue right against his prostate.
“The guy who wanted nothing to do with me is now spreading his legs for me, hm?” Oikawa murmurs delightedly against his thigh, nipping at the skin there. "And you taste so good, too."
“I swear to god, Oikawa,” Despite his barking, Iwaizumi's relieved to hear he tastes alright. Daichi had explained so much about enemas and lube over dinner the other night, he thought he'd never have an appetite again. “You gonna fuck me or not?”
“Why, of course,” Oikawa tells him. Iwaizumi peeks over his shoulder to see Oikawa's cock lifted high and proud, weighty and thick between his fingers as he pumps it in his fist. "Whatever my Iwa-chan wants."
"I swear if you don't, I'll--" Iwaizumi threatens, interrupted by the sensation of Oikawa's cockhead pressing bluntly into his hole. He'd done all the damn scissoring and lube, and even tried a small plug he'd bought on one seedy internet search— but it still couldn't fully prepare him for the overwhelming sense of fullness.
Oikawa is big everywhere, and Iwaizumi hates to say that it suits him.
Iwaizumi also hates to say that he likes it, far more than he'd ever imagined. He resists the urge to shiver in pleasure as Oikawa pushes his hips forward, rocking into him slowly to get himself to fit.
“So tight, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sings. "You ready for me?"
"Give me your worst," Iwaizumi demands. "I want it all."
When Oikawa finally thrusts forward, he feels weightless, all sensation narrowed down to the sparks exploding behind his eyes as his cockhead rams against his prostate, over and over again.
Even when he misses the spot, he stil feels so damn good. He loves the weight of him draping over his back, knowing Oikawa can tell how much he wants it from the way he rocks back on his cock to meet his thrusts. “That’s more like it,” he challenges over his shoulder, still scowling even as he drips slick sweat all over his sheets from the way he's railing him. “Show me what else you’ve got.”
“Iwaizumi Hajime, who didn't even want me sitting next to him, is now riding my cock,” Oikawa teases as he thrusts deeper. Iwaizumi could slap him for having such a dirty mouth were he not, well, occupied. “Little did I know all I had to do was stuff him full.”
Iwaizumi growls. He can’t even deny it, too lost in how good Oikawa feels inside him. “Who–- hah, fuck–– are you even talking to, Oikawa?”
“I’m talking to you,” Oikawa tells him. “You’re taking me so well. Like you can’t get enough,” His eyes wild and voracious as he watches Iwaizumi rock himself back and forth on it, clearly enjoying it by the way his eyes roll back.
“Ah, ah, ah," Iwaizumi groans, lifting his hips as Oikawa slips out of him. “Hold on a second, I need to get the angle right.”
“Come here then,” Oikawa orders. “Closer, c’mon.”
He flips him over swiftly so Iwaizumi can clamber into his lap, their chests clashing and tacky with sweat as he kisses him in a rush, both of them too out of it to care about finesse. With his other hand, Oikawa palms his own dick and slides it against Iwaizumi’s asscrack, groaning from the friction.
“Put it back,” Iwaizumi breathes against Oikawa’s ear, nipping against the slick skin. “Give it to me now, I swear to God.”
“Iwa-chan doesn’t need to be so demanding about it,” Oikawa admonishes him with a pleased grin, his lids lazy with pleasure as he palms the back of Iwaizumi’s thighs shamelessly. “Up, up, now,” he whacks his ass for good measure before spreading his cheeks apart with his strong grip.
Iwaizumi sighs as Oikawa guides himself back in, stilling to allow him to readjust to the stretch.
“Fuck,” he pants once Oikawa’s bottomed out again, clawing onto Oikawa’s shoulders. “Alright, fucking move, Shittykawa, I need it.”
Oikawa shuts him up with a strong thrust, grinning as he watches Iwaizumi’s mouth sharpen into a rare, pleased grin. “Fuck yes, just like that.” Oikawa gives him a sharp, competitive smile, thrusts up, up, again and again, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in just to hear the way it punches the breath out of Iwaizumi’s lungs.
“Yeah, yeah, hah––” he grunts, his whole body thrumming with pleasure. “Goddamnit, Oikawa,” he breathes. “Fuck me harder, c’mon.”
Oikawa gives him a little smug half-smile for that, lifting his hips higher for more leverage.
“You’re taking me so well,” he praises lowly, watching Iwaizumi fuck himself on him over and over as he bites his lips and grips at his ass to pull him down roughly onto his cock. “You’re being so good for me.”
“Yeah?” Iwaizumi’s smile is competitive as he stares back at him under heavy lids. Sweat slicks down his wide, muscled chest, his arms flexing as he grasps the small of Oikawa’s back with large hands to arch his back and open up his hips more, his knees digging into the mattress as he takes him even deeper. “Keep it up,” he demands roughly, gyrating his hips as he rides him into the mattress. “C’mon Oikawa, you going to come inside me? Or will I beat you at that too?”
Oikawa keeps up the pace, flexing his thighs as he bounces him on his lap. “I’ll think about it,” he manages to reply with a shit-eating grin, face sweaty and red from effort. “You’ll get to come--hah-– when I think you deserve it.”
Iwaizumi gets close to Oikawa’s face. “Now,” he growls, and the way Oikawa looks at him is ravenous. “I’m close.”
Oikawa wraps a hand around his cock as Iwaizumi bites at his jugular, a little harder than Oikawa'd like based on his yelp. "Cum for me, Hajime," he moans. "God, I wanna cum inside you, oh, oh--"
Iwaizumi takes one look at Oikawa's blissed-out expression and spills everywhere-- his chest, his abdomen, even the base of his chin. "Fuck..." he groans. Oikawa looks desperate, so Iwaizumi squeezes his hole a little tighter so he can fill him up with his seed too. He can be a nice boyfriend sometimes.
It’s worth it anyway to see the look on Oikawa’s face when he finally lets go, warmth flooding deep within him as he groans with pleasure.
"Goddamn you,” Oikawa mutters, sucking another hickey into his skin as they cool down from their high. "I'll never be able to get hard again.”
"Heh," Iwaizumi laughs into the pillow. "That's what you get for being such an asshole."
“You say that about everything I do,” Oikawa complains. “It’s like crying wolf at this point.”
”Yeah, well, I call it like I see it,” Iwaizumi yawns.
They settle into a comfortable silence, but ten minutes Iwaizumi stretches with a yawn before he turns to look at Oikawa.
“Alright, pretty boy. Again,” Iwaizumi half-asks, half-demands, arching his back and nudging against him. Oikawa stares at him in shock, but Iwaizumi feels that warm stickiness slowly trickle out of him, and thinks, fuck it: he could use a refill.
“Again?” Oikawa’s hair is still smooshed from the pillow, he’s bleary-eyed and clearly moments away from sleep, and all Iwaizumi can think is goddamn if I don’t love this dumbass.
“You’re complaining?” he asks with a raised brow.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Oikawa rubs his eyes open, voice low and breathless as he reaches for him with eager, covetous hands. “Again.”
Iwaizumi closes his eyes as he kisses him, savoring the feeling of his weight on top of him, the scent of his vanillin shampoo, the way he moans into his ear as he rubs against him.
As Oikawa enters him again, still soft and sensitive, he can’t help but wonder: how many more agains would they share?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The cicadas produce a symphony of sound that pulsates in a strange rhythm: loud, louder, louder still, their screeches nearly deafening in the otherwise quiet summer evening until they are suddenly, unexpectedly quiet.
It's a bit early for them to arrive this year. Graduation is a week or so away, and then that's it: time to pack up, move out, and start the rest of their lives.
Iwaizumi just doesn't know what that will look like for him, yet.
Oikawa interrupts his thoughts, chortling on the grass beside him. “That's how you sounded last night,” he jokes with a cheeky grin. "Cicadazumi."
"Shut up before I make you," Iwaizumi orders. "Not at the picnic."
"It's nothing we don't know," Daichi complains. He's scowling at him behind a plate full of barbecue, legs sprawled out on their shared blanket. "It's a wonder you didn't get kicked out of the library for public indecency."
Iwaizumi and Oikawa exchange a knowing glance.
"We had to run," Kuroo continues exasperatedly. "All I wanted to do was rest after that long ass exam, but it was an emergency."
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes so hard it genuinely hurts. "Shut up and eat your damn food, you gremlins," he demands. "I don't want to hear another word about this."
"I had to hear too many words about a lot of things," Daichi murmurs darkly under his breath.
Iwaizumi busies himself with his own plate. The school hosted quite a feast for the seniors every year to celebrate their achievements before graduation; he'd been looking forward to this all year.
So why couldn't he stop thinking about the future?
“Wait,” Kuroo's cheshire grin grows on his face until it's nearly blinding. "Is that him, Daichi?"
“What guy?” Iwaizumi asks.
“My crush,” Daichi wheezes.
"Oh, is that so?" Oikawa grins like the cat who caught the canary, waving Suga over.
Daichi isn’t and has never been a fool; he rips his eyes away from Suga to narrow his eyes at Oikawa and Kuroo in turn. "Are you guys messing with me or something?"
"Never," Kuroo says innocently. "Me? Mess with you? Who do you think I am?"
"You're a horrible meddler, that's who you are," he groans, schooling his face into a painfully awkward smile as Suga walks closer.
“Hey, guys!" Suga greets, grabbing Oikawa's outstretched hand for a squeeze. "Wow, I finally get to see the loverboys in action. Nice to see you again, Iwaizumi."
Iwaizumi sticks his tongue out at him. "Suga," he acknowledges.
"Everyone, this is my roommate," Oikawa explains, with a long look at Iwaizumi before he turns to Daichi. "And this handsome, single gentleman is..."
Daichi coughs loudly. "Daichi," he says. "Uh, Daichi Sawamura."
“I know,” Suga teases. “You’re the hot guy that’s always staring at me at work, the bar, the club...”
Daichi chokes. "What?!"
"You heard me," Suga flops down on the picnic blanket with a grin. "Can I hang out with you guys for a bit?"
"Yeah," Daichi replies before anyone else can, clearly eager, and his ears burn bright red as they all devolve into laughter.
It’s evening by the time Oikawa and Iwaizumi are finally alone. The full moon shines onto them both, bright as ever. Oikawa has been uncharacteristically quiet ever since their friends left, but Iwaizumi knows all he has to do is wait him out.
The trouble is it’s been more than an hour, and maybe he’s not the most patient guy in the world.
“Spit it out, Shittykawa,” he orders. “I’m getting old over here.”
"I'm scared, Iwa-chan," Oikawa finally admits into the night air, absentmindedly playing with a loose thread fraying from the fabric of his jeans. "About moving. All those new people, a whole new language... it's going to be difficult. I don't know what I'm going to do."
"You'll be fine," Iwaizumi objects, shifting onto his side to face him. "They're going to be lucky to have you."
Oikawa smiles, quiet and sure under the moonlight. "I know," he begins, and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. "But it's going to be difficult to get used to. I'm going to have to change so much."
"You mean you're going to have to accept that things are going to be harder for you," Iwaizumi corrects. He kicks at his foot with his own for good measure. “That's your path, Oikawa."
Oikawa sits up. He wraps his arms around his knees as he looks at Iwaizumi straight on.
"Oh, yeah?" he says. "Well, you didn’t know me when I was a kid. It was just me against the world, forever, all the time.”
He slumps, hiding half his face away in the crook of his inner arm. It’s unlike him, Iwaizumi thinks, looking defeated, his voice low and heavy as he burrows further into himself.
“I don’t know what you were like, but I can guess. You were probably very you, all serious and honest and strict, keeping your team and your friends in line just like you do now. And as much as I hate to admit it, I probably could’ve used someone like you around.”
“If I had to be saddled with you for our whole lives,” Iwaizumi pauses, considering. “I think I could take it.” Oikawa lets out an amused chuckle at that. “Who else could, anyway? You’re the most annoyingly persistent person I’ve ever met in my life.”
Oikawa raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth to object.
“But,” Iwaizumi continues, rising to raise his arms over his head in a leisurely stretch, “God probably saw my ass when I was born and said no, put Shittykawa in the same college as him and not a minute sooner, so he can enjoy his years of good blood pressure in peace!”
“Aw, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, lifting his head with a sly grin. “Why’s that? Because I make your heart beat all fast?”
Iwaizumi sighs in defeat, looking up at the sky. “Yes, and it’s insufferable.”
Oikawa laughs, long and loud. Iwaizumi loves the way he laughs: beautiful and bright, just like the rest of him.
He just hopes he'll be able to tell him that someday, if Oikawa’d keep him around long enough to let him.
"I just feel like I'm going to be lonely all over again," Oikawa finally admits with a sigh. "I know things will be hard. It's always been hard, but it's always been worth it."
"And? So what's the issue?"
"The issue is that I just found you, Iwa-chan. I finally found my fated partner, but now I have to leave."
"Well, don't let me stand in your way," Iwaizumi sits up. He's kind of offended, sue him. "I never asked you to sacrifice anything for me. I know you have big dreams to run after."
"No, Iwa-chan, listen. I can't help but want too much; that's always been my problem. I wonder: Will you wait for me? Will you actually visit? It’s too much to ask of you, Iwa-chan. I haven't even had the guts to ask you to be my boyfriend because of how little time we have together."
Iwaizumi huffs loudly and reaches out for his hand.
What a goddamn idiot he'd fallen for.
“You know, Oikawa, I was lonely too," he admits. "I always wished a kid my age would move into my neighborhood. You'd have been a pain in my ass, but I think you were right about what you said on the court that day: together, we would've been unstoppable."
"You think so?" Oikawa looks at him with tears in his eyes, and Iwaizumi swears to the night sky that it's the last time he'll ever make Oikawa Tooru cry.
"I know so," he assures him, squeezing his hand tighter. "Sometimes, I feel like I missed you before I ever knew you existed. I don't know why, but that's the way it goes."
Oikawa stares at him, unblinking as he hangs onto every word, and it gives Iwaizumi the strength to continue.
"But none of that matters because you need to focus on what's in front of you, dumbass. I'm here now. Look at what we accomplished together with that damn chemistry class. We’re still unstoppable. So what do you want to do about it?"
“Hajime,” Oikawa says gently, grabbing onto his wrist, “I’ll be yours as long as you’ll have me, no matter how far I go."
"So then, move forward without hesitation," Iwaizumi grins triumphantly. "Because when you come back, I'll defeat you."
"Defeat me? With what, your insane libido?" Oikawa complains, but he leans in for a kiss anyway. "Bring it on, Iwa-chan. Bring it on."