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Tooru Oikawa is stupidly attractive, ridiculously intelligent, and unbelievably talented at whatever he puts his mind to. He always feels like a step above the rest; he’s always more charming, more smooth, more beautiful, more witty- more everything than anyone else. He’s always more and his pull is absolutely enigmatic. Iwaizumi can’t put a finger on why Oikawa is so mesmerizing but he is.
He does have his bad parts, of course. Oikawa is a moody little brat, a vain bastard, prideful to a fault and manipulative with the skills to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes with relative ease. He’s terribly, wonderfully ugly at times and- even though Iwaizumi blinks in horror at some of the things that Oikawa spits out in spite- even that has some wicked pull to it.
He’s beautiful. He’s ugly. He’s talented. He’s vain. He’s caring. He’s petty. He’s charming. He’s manipulative.
Tooru Oikawa is many, many things and Iwaizumi is hopelessly caught in his web. He’s not sure if Oikawa knows that but he prays to the gods that he doesn’t.
Because among everything that Oikawa is, there’s another label that can be slapped on Oikawa without question. It should be the one that doesn’t affect him other than it being an inconvenience but it’s the one that fucks Iwaizumi up the most.
Chronic nosebleeder. Tooru Oikawa is a chronic nosebleeder.
And it kills Iwaizumi.
He’s disgusting. He’s terribly disgusting, vile and horrid. There’s no way that Iwaizumi should look at blood dripping down his best friend's face and get the urge to lick it off, push Oikawa against the wall and makeout with him, get the blood smeared all over his face as well.
Gods, he’s disgusting for wanting that. He’s so fucking disgusting. Oikawa would kill him if he knew, would absolutely rip him to shreds for being so sick.
He can still remember the first time he realized that he has a thing for blood on his best friend’s lips, a thing for tongues swiping at scarlet.
It was when they were sixteen, when Oikawa first started getting the goddamn nosebleeds. It just happened in practice one day without any warning. One moment Oikawa was talking about something new he wanted to try and the next blood was drip drip dripping from his nose, rolling down his lips and chin and splashing onto the gym floor. The little brat didn't even notice at first, kept talking until some of it got into his mouth and then just blinked in surprise, swiped at it with the back of his hand and studied it with a puzzled look. You would think that he would act like a normal person, mutter a “what the hell?” and go to the coach. But no. No, Oikawa just smiled faintly and licked at it, drug his tongue up over the smeared scarlet and flicked his gaze to Iwaizumi.
And that was when Iwaizumi realized he was starting to get hard.
That was when his heart sank and he knew he was fucked.
Iwaizumi had to cover it up with a grumpy scolding, had to cover it up by grabbing Oikawa by the front of his shirt and dragging him over to the coach. Oikawa got sent to the nurse and Iwaizumi got sent back to the court and he tried very, very fucking hard to forget the almost predatory feeling that had welled up in him at the sight of Oikawa with a nosebleed.
Tried. Tried and failed. That night blood stained lips appeared in his fantasies and he ended up jerking it in the shower to the memory of a pink tongue, scarlet on ivory skin, and the faint smile gracing Oikawa’s face.
He couldn’t look at Oikawa for two days straight.
That caused problems because Oikawa was a whiny little shit about it, ended up pawing at Iwaizumi and pouting for his attention before sulking and ignoring him. It was a mess but it was nothing compared to Oikawa being woken up from falling asleep in class a few days later, his head lifting groggily up from his arms to show the front of his uniform covered in blood, his desk smeared with it, and his lips, chin, hell even his cheek stained with red. There was so much blood and Iwaizumi was scared something was wrong with him but then Oikawa blinked heavily, smiled lazily at Iwaizumi and whispered his name in a dreamy little voice.
Iwaizumi escorted Oikawa to the nurse and then himself to the bathroom where he shamefully jerked himself off while biting into his hand to muffle his pants and growls.
Oikawa’s mother drug Oikawa to the doctor after that incident and they ran tests, told her to keep an eye out for more nosebleeds. Iwaizumi prayed to the gods it was just something random, something that wouldn’t happen again.
But it did. Oikawa kept getting nosebleeds and Iwaizumi kept getting fuel for fantasies that filled him with shame and horror. Oikawa’s mother drug Oikawa to so many doctors and they all ended up telling her that it was fine, that it was okay. It wasn’t harming anything. Everything was fine.
Iwaizumi would fucking beg to differ.
They did ease up after a while- thank the fucking gods above. But they still hit Iwaizumi with a wave of unwanted arousal when they come, end up dragging him into a spiral of guilt, confusion, and humiliation.
It’s been awhile since Oikawa has had one, actually, and Iwaizumi has felt such relief over it. They’re in university and there’s already been too many close calls with spilling his ever present hunger for Oikawa, his need to pull him close and kiss him hard. He’s had to stop drinking at the parties they go to in the fear he’ll blurt out his feelings, lean over and kiss Oikawa dizzy.
He can’t do that. He’ll ruin things if he does that. Oikawa- beautiful, terrible, flawed yet perfect Oikawa- doesn’t want Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi doesn’t deserve him. Not after the years of pining and not making a move, not after gross fantasies and sick perversions. As ugly as Oikawa can be sometimes, not even he would be okay with Iwaizumi and his shameful, secret fetish. They’re best friends and that’s all they’ll ever be.
Which is okay, which is fine. Best friends is good, best friends is great. He still gets to be beside Oikawa, still gets to be the one confided in and leaned on for comfort. Hell, he even gets to live with Oikawa now. So it’s fine. It’s okay. It’s good. It’s great.
Except for maybe tonight. Except for when Oikawa is sprawled out on Iwaizumi’s back and whining in his ear about how he wants to go dancing, how Iwaizumi needs to take him dancing, how it’s been so long since they’ve had any fun.
He’s killing Iwaizumi with it, killing him with that pouty voice and how his hips are right against his ass, pressing down on him and giving Iwaizumi way too much fodder than he should be allowed.
“Fine,” he snaps. “We’ll go. Get the fuck off me.”
Oikawa lets out a whoop and rolls off Iwaizumi, grins down at him while Iwaizumi shoots him a scowl.
“Ah, come on, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa coos. “This is going to be fun. I’ll give you ten minutes to get ready.”
“Give me five,” Iwaizumi shoots back. “Not all of us need to primp like some vain brats.”
Oikawa just sticks his tongue out in response, grins and flounces out of the room with a cheery laugh. Iwaizumi groans and drops his head back to the bed, curses his life and hopes that Oikawa doesn’t decide to be too wild.
His hopes are dashed, of course, about thirty minutes later when Oikawa steps up to the bar and orders a kamikaze to start off with. The brat then bullies and pesters Iwaizumi into ordering his own and Iwaizumi ends up giving in because Oikawa reaches out and runs his hand down Iwaizumi’s chest and purrs out a little, “Come on, Iwa-chan. Don’t you want to have fun?”
He takes the shot and wonders what he did in his past life to warrant having Tooru Oikawa tormenting him in his current one.
After a couple more begrudging shots, Oikawa grabs Iwaizumi’s wrist and pulls him to the dance floor, grins at him and pulls him close. Oikawa grinds against Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi feels some of his sanity drain out of him.
What the fuck is going on with Oikawa?
He’s been drug out to dance with Oikawa ever since they hit the legal age. He’s used to dancing with him, used to letting himself watch gyrating hips and wandering hands. Iwaizumi is not used to Oikawa grinding against him, though. He’s not used to Oikawa looping his arms around his neck and running a hand up through his hair to tug on it as he grins at him, something dangerous in the curl of his lips.
Iwaizumi feels very much like some helpless creature, some hopeless prey with the way Oikawa’s eyes cut through him like he can see everything Iwaizumi has tried so hard to hide away from him.
It terrifies him, just a little. But somehow it turns him right the fuck on as well and he grinds right back against Oikawa before he can really tell himself not to. Oikawa’s grin just grows and then he’s leaning close- way too close- and Iwaizumi finds himself captivated by the way flashing lights highlight long lashes and chiseled cheekbones. Oikawa is close enough to kiss but then he’s gone, swirling away from Iwaizumi with a laugh and looking back at him over his shoulder with challenge written all over his face.
Gods, fuck, does Iwaizumi want him.
The rest of the night is a blur of shots and fleeting touches, coy grins and teasing grinds. Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t drink, knows he shouldn’t let it happen but can’t help it. Oikawa feels too good and he’s the one initiating and Iwaizumi just can’t help giving in, reacting.
He doesn’t know what it all means and he’s not sure if he wants to because, knowing Oikawa, the brat is probably just feeling capricious and flirty and thinks Iwaizumi is the most easy victim for the night.
The little shit.
When Oikawa finally decides that he’s had enough, he laces his fingers through Iwaizumi’s and pulls him out of the club. It’s absolutely pathetic that some part of Iwaizumi thrums from the simple contact but he can’t help how warm he feels when Oikawa doesn’t let his hand go on the way back to their apartment. He can’t help the shiver that threatens to run through him when Oikawa absently runs his thumb over the ridges of Iwaizumi’s knuckles, when Oikawa glances over at him and smiles with something sharp lighting up his eyes.
He wants to blame it on the drinks but Iwaizumi knows he’d be just as weak kneed without them. At least he can cover up the haziness in his eyes with them, the tint of pink that’s probably popped up on his cheeks.
It’s a fucking relief to get back home.
His plan was to just ditch Oikawa and go back to his room to silently get off and pass out. Was. Apparently Iwaizumi’s plan doesn’t coincide with Oikawa’s because the too tempting fuck follows Iwaizumi to his bedroom, drapes himself over Iwaizumi’s back and sighs his name ever so softly in his ear.
It’s a little humiliating that Iwaizumi can feel himself starting to get hard just from that.
Oikawa has way too much power over him and Iwaizumi prays to the gods that Oikawa never finds out.
He elbows Oikawa in the stomach, tries to worm his way out from under Oikawa’s weight.
“Get off me, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi grumbles, faking more grumpiness than he really feels. “You have your own bedroom, you know.”
Oikawa just hums in his ear, moves his head and noses against Iwaizumi’s neck. Iwaizumi has to swallow a little groan because he’s really, truly too greedy for the contact and has to force himself to keep from tilting his head to the side, offering up more of his neck to Oikawa.
“But Iwa-chan isn’t in my bedroom,” Oikawa whines quietly. There’s some quality to his voice that Iwaizumi can’t quite place, can’t quite put his finger on. Something about it is different than normal and it’s dangerously close to devastating. “Why are you so cold to me, Iwa-chan?”
“I’m not cold,” Iwaizumi snaps, his heart starting to beat a little faster when Oikawa’s hands move to run up his chest, pull Iwaizumi a bit closer to him. “I just want to go to bed.”
“Bed?” Oikawa asks, voice way too amused for Iwaizumi’s taste. “Mmm, and what is Iwa-chan going to do in bed?”
Iwaizumi feels his cheeks heat up and he lets out a huff of frustration, elbows Oikawa again and silently pleads to the gods that Oikawa won’t push it, will leave him in peace.
“Sleep,” he mumbles. “Like everyone else.”
“You know, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathes right in Iwaizumi’s ear, “somehow I doubt that.”
Oikawa’s hands slip dangerously low on Iwaizumi’s chest, fingers skirting over the edge of his shirt and dipping under to touch at his stomach. Iwaizumi has to bite his inner cheek to keep from shuddering against Oikawa, to keep from inhaling too sharp and alerting Oikawa to how just from that Iwaizumi is ready to push him against the wall and fuck him to pieces.
“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi starts, voice rough with something maybe a touch desperate, “just go to your-”
“Oh.”
Iwaizumi frowns at the interruption, blinks when there’s the sound of a soft laugh and a murmur of “how fortuitous.” Oikawa finally removes himself from Iwaizumi’s back and Iwaizumi mouths a silent “thank the gods” before turning around.
His momentary relief is gone as soon as he sees the thin streak of scarlet just underneath Oikawa’s nose, the bead of blood clinging to his top lip and the way his mouth is curled into an almost smug little smile.
Iwaizumi’s heart stops for a moment and then slams into overdrive and he has to swallow before he can say anything, force his gaze away from the blood starting to flow a bit more thickly from Oikawa’s nose.
“I-” Iwaizumi halts weakly, blinks and almost takes a step back when Oikawa’s lashes lower at the sound of his voice. “I- you should take care of that.”
Oikawa just hums and eyes him, something wicked in his eyes and something cutting in his smile. He takes a step closer to Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi stays still, helplessly pinned in place by the way Oikawa’s gaze runs over him.
He feels like running when Oikawa’s smile tilts into a little grin, when his lips part just a bit and a pink, pink tongue runs over his top lip, when Oikawa licks his own blood away.
“Why should I?” Oikawa purrs. He takes another step forward and Iwaizumi takes a step back this time, his eyes widening despite how hard he tries to not let them. “This is the perfect time to address your little fascination, isn’t it?”
Shit.
Fear rakes through Iwaizumi at that and he takes a few more steps back, shakes his head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies. Oikawa just grins a bit wider, a bit more predatory and Iwaizumi has to swallow back a little groan when Oikawa steps forward to him again, when he walks right up to Iwaizumi and places a hand on his chest. “Oikawa, seriously, you should-”
Oikawa shushes him with a soft, chiding sound, placing a finger to Iwaizumi’s lips to halt his words. Some small noise threatens to slip from Iwaizumi and he hates that, hates how weak he feels just from that simple gesture. He should push Oikawa away and he knows that but he’s helpless, pinned in place by Oikawa’s gaze and his own desires.
He has to close his eyes for a moment when blood flows down over Oikawa’s lips, when it begins to drip from his chin.
This is so fucked up and he’s not sure if he’s more terrified or turned on.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa coos quietly, finger stroking over Iwaizumi’s lips lightly. “You’re really so obvious. You know that, right?”
“Oikawa-”
Oikawa slips his finger into Iwaizumi mouth, makes Iwaizumi’s eyes snap open and his heart stop.
Oikawa just grins at him, grins so his teeth show, grins so scarlet splashes onto pearly white. Iwaizumi gets dangerously close to groaning at that, gets dangerously close to grabbing Oikawa’s face and and pulling it to his at that.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa purrs, his free hand running down Iwaizumi’s chest. “Let’s stop pretending you don’t have a little fascination, a little fetish, hmm? You’ve never been that good at hiding it.”
Iwaizumi tries to deny it but Oikawa slips another finger into his mouth and it takes all of Iwaizumi’s effort to keep from sucking on them, to keep from pulling them in deeper so he can gag on them.
“I never would have thought Iwa-chan would have such filthy perversions,” Oikawa murmurs, hand running down even lower. Iwaizumi almost shiver from it, tries to back away. Oikawa just grabs onto his belt loops with his fingers, though, and keeps him in place. “But that’s okay. I don’t mind it.”
Iwaizumi swallows the spit starting to well up in his mouth and pulls his head back, tries to beat back the embarrassed flush starting to flare up on his cheeks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Iwaizumi denies weakly. “Oikawa, you’re- you drank too much. You need to-”
Oikawa’s hand slips down low and cups at Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi feels his mind short circuit when Oikawa raises his brow and smiles in satisfaction.
“You’re lying, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa trills. His hand moves, rubs against Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi wishes the gods would strike him down on the spot when Oikawa’s smile tilts into something wolfish, something almost terrifying. “Liars get punished, don’t you know?”
Iwaizumi’s eyes widen and, before he can protest, Oikawa pushes him against the wall, grabs his hands and pins them to it. There’s a breezy, amused laugh and then Oikawa leans forward and bites into Iwaizumi’s bottom lip, bites so it’s more painful than pleasurable. Iwaizumi tries to jerk his hands free but Oikawa holds them firmly against the wall, shows off just how fucking strong he is before ducking his head down to bite along Iwaizumi’s neck, sink sharp teeth into tender flesh.
It hurts but it sends fire shooting through Iwaizumi’s veins and he can’t help but to throw his head back and let out a strangled little curse. Oikawa hums against his skin at that and Iwaizumi can feel the blood smearing onto his throat when Oikawa noses against it.
He’s pretty sure if Oikawa wasn’t pinning him against the wall that he’d be slumping to the floor in a daze.
“Tell me you like it, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa murmurs, nipping at his jawline and ignoring Iwaizumi’s slowly weakening attempts to jerk out of his grasp. “Tell me it turns you on.”
“I- no- shit. Oikawa,” Iwaizumi hisses, almost pleading with it. There’s no way he can admit to it, no way he can say out loud how terrible he is. “Oikawa- stop it.”
Oikawa hums and noses against Iwaizumi’s neck for a moment longer, pulls his head back and looks at Iwaizumi with almost mocking eyes. Blood is still dripping and it’s too fucking gorgeous the way red is smeared across a rakish grin, an already too tempting face.
“Now Iwa-chan,” Oikawa purrs, resting his forehead against Iwaizumi’s and brushing their lips against each other. “Do you really want me to stop?”
Iwaizumi’s self-restraint shatters when Oikawa’s tongue slips out and runs over his lips. Iwaizumi can’t help letting his lips part, can’t help the weak little groan when Oikawa presses their lips together, when his grasp on Iwaizumi’s wrists tighten. Oikawa kisses with a hunger that Iwaizumi didn’t expect, kisses him rough and deep. Iwaizumi can taste the blood on Oikawa’s lips, feel how slick Oikawa’s lips are with it, how it’s transferring to his own. It’s fucking intoxicating and Iwaizumi doesn’t even try to hide the quiet moan that slips from him when Oikawa pulls back with a nip to Iwaizumi’s bottom lip.
Oikawa grins lazily, eyes dark with something Iwaizumi almost wants to call pleasure. Oikawa’s hips roll forward and he grinds against Iwaizumi like how he had in the club. But this time- this time- Iwaizumi feels how hard he is, feels just how into it Oikawa is.
And that’s why lets himself be led to the bed, that’s why he lets Oikawa push him down onto it and lets him crawl into his lap.
Oikawa isn’t pushing him away. He isn’t sneering at him. He isn’t shrieking at him. He’s crawling into Iwaizumi’s lap, he’s rocking against him. He’s kissing him greedily and dipping his head down to nip at Iwaizumi’s neck, dipping his head down to leave bruises and smear more blood.
Iwaizumi lets himself groan quietly at it, lets his breath grow ragged. It’s almost overwhelming, almost feels like a fucking dream. Maybe someone slipped something into his drink. Maybe he’s hallucinating.
Or maybe not.
It certainly feels real when Oikawa laves his tongue up the side of his neck. It certainly feels real when Oikawa threads his fingers into his hair and kisses him hard enough so their teeth clatter against each other, kisses him hard enough so their lips will bruise. The taste of blood feels real, the murmur of his own name against his lips feels real.
Iwaizumi shivers with that, brings his hands up to run over Oikawa’s sides so he can pull him more firmly against him. Oikawa slaps his hands down, though, and pulls back to give Iwaizumi a stern look, something that would be cold if there wasn’t hunger flared up in his eyes.
“No touching,” Oikawa tells him sharply. “Iwa-chan doesn’t get to touch until he admits he likes it.”
Iwaizumi groans, wants to snap back something at Oikawa to preserve some sort of backbone, to defy him. But he can’t. He just can’t. He’s wanted this for so long and he doesn’t have the strength to put a fight.
He opts for a weak glare and keeps his mouth shut, bites into his inner cheek to keep from blurting it out, to keep him from begging Oikawa to let him touch him, finally feel him please.
“Tell me,” Oikawa demands, grinding down against Iwaizumi to make him groan. Oikawa leans in and nips at his bottom lip again, kisses him hard to mingle spit and blood. “Tell me you like it.”
Iwaizumi curses, curls his fingers into his covers and glares at Oikawa, hates himself for wanting to whine weakly at the trail of scarlet along Oikawa’s throat, the blood soaking into mint green fabric. The drops of red are startling against Oikawa’s shirt and there’s a gross desire to lean forward, drag his lips over them.
He’s so disgusting and he can’t believe Oikawa is just as filthy.
“Tell me Hajime,” Oikawa demands, again. There’s something steely in his voice, something commanding and it makes Iwaizumi feel so fucking weak. “Come on, be good for me.”
That last part is made soft in contrast to the rest and humiliation washes through Iwaizumi when he realizes just how needy it makes him feel, how there’s a desire to give in, bow his head and mutter it out, be good for Oikawa.
Why is he being so weak? He’s never like this. He’s so fucking pathetic.
“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi tries, his voice almost a little hoarse. “Please-”
He cuts himself off when Oikawa grinds down against him, slips his hands underneath Iwaizumi’s shirt and runs his fingers up to flick over his nipples, pinch at them.
“Please what?” Oikawa murmurs, voice lilting, teasing. “Does Iwa-chan want to touch me?”
Iwaizumi finds himself nodding before he can stop himself, admitting it to silently. A pleased hum comes from Oikawa and Iwaizumi shivers when Oikawa licks his lips, swipes at still dripping blood with a pink, pink tongue.
“Then you need to tell me,” Oikawa says, almost purring the words as he grinds down against Iwaizumi. “Come on, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Oikawa says that but he’s a fucking liar. It’s disgusting. He’s disgusting. Iwaizumi is fucking gross for being into it, for loving how blood looks on his best friend, for loving how it tastes on Oikawa’s lips. He’s disgusting. He’s gross. He’s filthy. He’s-
Iwaizumi takes a shuddering breath and grinds back up against Oikawa, nearly moans.
He’s so fucking hard.
“Come on, Hajime,” Oikawa breathes against his lips. “Say it for me. It’s alright.”
Iwaizumi shivers and groans, moves to kiss Oikawa again and lets out a noise of frustration when Oikawa pulls away.
“I-” Iwaizumi swallows and squeezes his eyes shut, refuses to look at Oikawa, at the hungry look on his face and the tantalizing scarlet covering him. “Fucking- I like- I like it. Are you fucking happy?”
He can feel the angry, embarrassed flush flare up on his cheeks, feel his frustration in the form of gritted teeth and clenched fists. Oikawa is such a fucking bastard.
“Almost,” Oikawa murmurs. Iwaizumi takes a deep breath when Oikawa leans in, nuzzles against his throat and touches at his clenched hands. “For how long?”
“Oikawa, don’t-”
“Shhh, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tells him softly. His fingers run up, dance along Iwaizumi’s forearms way too gently. It makes Iwaizumi want to shiver, makes him feel even more weak and he hates it, want to squirm away. “Be a good boy and indulge me, hmm? I’ll give you a nice little reward if you do.”
White hot humiliation floods through Iwaizumi at that because some traitorous part of him trembles at the words, makes him feel needy and small. He wants to be good, wants to receive whatever Oikawa is offering. The humiliation makes him angry and he feels horrified at the pinprick feeling of frustrated tears behind his lids, feels mortification rake through him when he shudders and has to swallow back some distressed noise.
It’s not fair. He’s waited so long for this, has never ever thought it might actually happen. He’s already admitted it, already done what Oikawa has asked. This isn’t fair. Oikawa doesn’t need to make him do this and Iwaizumi knows he can fucking just reach out and touch Oikawa anyway. But some loathsome part of him refuses to, wants to behave and be obedient.
He grits his teeth and opens his eyes, feels even more frustration ripple through him when he sees the soft look in Oikawa’s eyes, the encouraging smile on his face.
“Go on, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers, reaching up with one hand and stroking over his cheek.
Iwaizumi grits his teeth tighter and looks away, refuses to take in the too soft gaze on Oikawa’s face because something about it makes him feel way too vulnerable.
“...since the first one,” he grinds out, squeezing his eyes shut again. “Oikawa, please-”
Oikawa slips his hand down to grab Iwaizumi’s chin and forces his head back forward, gives him a kiss that’s way too gentle.
“You can touch, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa murmurs.
Iwaizumi grabs onto Oikawa’s hips and pulls him down tight, slips his hands underneath Oikawa’s shirt and squeezes him hard as he rolls his hips up. That gets a soft gasp out from Oikawa and there’s a moment where Oikawa’s lashes flutter, a moment where he looks almost needy.
It helps with the anger and frustration a little and Iwaizumi runs his hands over his best friend, slips them around to his back to squeeze at his ass, scratch at his back. Oikawa lets out a quiet little moan at that and Iwaizumi feels something satisfactory run through him, leans up and bites his own bruises on Oikawa’s neck, licks at the drying blood on Oikawa’s throat. Some stuttered noise slips from Oikawa and Iwaizumi growls against his skin, bites and licks at it again in an attempt to hear it once more. Oikawa whines softly and then there’s a hand in Iwaizumi’s hair, fingers knotting through it and pulling tight to tug Iwaizumi away.
“I-Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbles out, fingers tugging tighter at Iwaizumi’s hair. “Don’t you want your reward?”
Iwaizumi groans because he wants to be back in the crook of Oikawa’s neck, nipping at the skin and making him whine. He wants the reward, though- whatever the fuck it is. He wants his little prize for forcing himself through embarrassment and being good.
“Y-Yeah,” he manages with a swallow. “I do.”
Oikawa’s eyes light up with that and there’s a cooing noise from him, something that sets Iwaizumi’s nerves on edge but makes him want to press against Oikawa as well.
“Take your shirt off for me,” Oikawa orders, a smile dancing on blood stained lips. There’s a pause as Oikawa eyes him critically and Iwaizumi feels an uncertain apprehension when Oikawa shakes his head. “No. All of it. Strip down.”
Iwaizumi stares at him, hesitantly goes to remove his shirt. He doesn’t know what Oikawa is planning but he knows that he wants it, needs it.
Oikawa crawls out of his lap so he can take the rest off and Iwaizumi feels an odd touch of something nearly shy when there’s a pleased hum from Oikawa, when his best friend’s eyes rake over him hungrily.
“Lean back against the pillows,” Oikawa directs firmly. Iwaizumi isn’t really sure what he thinks about Oikawa taking the reins but some part of him likes it, is eager for it. Gods, he’s so pathetic for letting Oikawa have so much power over him. He’d never let anyone else order him around like this. “Get nice and comfy for me.”
Iwaizumi obeys and then looks over at Oikawa, waits quietly for further instruction. Oikawa just grins and drops his gaze and Iwaizumi looks away from him when Oikawa licks his lips.
“You can put your hands in my hair,” Oikawa tells him with a hum. “But don’t fuck up into me.”
Iwaizumi blinks in momentary confusion and looks back over at Oikawa, feels his mind disconnect when Oikawa sinks down between his legs and lets his tongue fall out of his mouth as he leans toward Iwaizumi’s shaft.
Shit.
Iwaizumi groans at the first little lick at him, moans when Oikawa laughs against his shaft and noses up against it before swallowing him whole.
“Shit, fuck, Tooru.”
Oikawa hums around him and Iwaizumi groans again, has to curl his fingers into Oikawa’s hair to keep from bucking up into his mouth.
He had always suspected that Oikawa would be good, had always expected he would be talented. But he never really expected this. He never expected Oikawa’s mouth to be this sweet, to feel this good. He never expected Oikawa to look so fucking pretty with Iwaizumi’s cock down his throat and his eyes twinkling up at Iwaizumi. And, gods, it’s better than anything he imagined before because there’s the blood- the fucking scarlet smeared on his best friend's face, the last few beads of it dripping down from his nose and onto Iwaizumi. Oikawa looks so fucking gorgeous and it’s so fucking good and-
Iwaizumi groans and pulls Oikawa’s hair tight, squeezes his eyes shut and arches his back up in an effort to keep from fucking Oikawa’s throat raw. A little whimper vibrates around Iwaizumi’s cock and he breathes through his nose, hard and ragged as he feels himself inching closer to a climax.
He wants it. He needs it. He’s dying for it. He needs to come, needs this to be real, needs to be allowed his pleasure. He needs it.
He needs it and he can’t help the petulant, frustrated noise that slips from him when Oikawa pulls his hands from his hair. Iwaizumi snaps his eyes open and looks down to Oikawa, feels distressed when Oikawa pulls off his cock and laps at it once before sitting up.
“Please,” Iwaizumi mumbles, something a little desperate in his voice. “Tooru...”
“Please what, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks. His own gaze is hazy and heavy but there’s a predatory edge to his voice, something carnivorous in the way his lips curl. “Do you want to get off?”
Iwaizumi just nods, a little helpless and a little overwhelmed. This has all been so much more than he expected and his head feels like it’s reeling from how fast everything is going.
Oikawa hums and crawls over Iwaizumi, leans down to nip at his bottom lip.
“You’re more pliant than I thought,” Oikawa murmurs. “I like it.”
Iwaizumi feels himself flush and tries to push Oikawa away, frustration born from embarrassment running through him again. Oikawa just grabs his hands, though, and pushes them back against bed, pins them right over his head. Iwaizumi hates how some part of him is thrilled by it, hates how he enjoys arching up just to feel Oikawa pinning him down tighter.
“Come on now,” Oikawa purrs. “No need to be embarrassed. It’s cute, Iwa-chan. You’re so cute.”
“Shut up, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi snaps, mortified by how his eyes momentarily go bleary from embarrassment. He’s not fucking cute, goddammit.
“Cute,” Oikawa just purrs, his grin lazy and aggravating. “I told you- I like it.” Oikawa hums before Iwaizumi can snap anything in response, leans forward and nips at Iwaizumi’s earlobe. “Hey, Iwa-chan...if you want to get off so bad, can I fuck you?”
Surprise makes Iwaizumi jerk back and there’s a little huff of laughter from Oikawa at that. He stares at Oikawa when his best friend pulls back, raises a brow as if he’s waiting for a response.
Oikawa wants to fuck him.
Iwaizumi blinks and stares, licks his lips and takes a shaky breath. He’s never thought about Oikawa fucking him before. He’s thought about Oikawa blowing him, has thought about Oikawa riding him. But he’s never indulged the thought of being fucked by him, has never let anyone fuck him before. Yes he’s experimented a little but that’s different and-
Iwaizumi swallows and shivers, looks away from Oikawa because it’s too hard meeting his gaze.
“What if I say no?” Iwaizumi whispers, voice way too uncertain for his liking.
“Then that’s that,” Oikawa says firmly. “You can get off another way.”
Iwaizumi glances back at him and sees that Oikawa doesn’t look upset, has to bite his cheek to keep from biting his lip when Oikawa smiles, leans forward and runs his hand up Iwaizumi chest.
“But I would love to see you come from my cock, Hajime,” Oikawa murmurs.
Iwaizumi groans, arches up into Oikawa’s touch when his hand slips down to palm at him, stroke him.
“You make such nice expressions,” Oikawa whispers. “I want to fuck you on your back, just like this, and see you moan in pleasure, let yourself fall apart as I fuck you to pieces.”
Iwaizumi shivers, almost whimpers before he catches himself.
He wants it. Oh gods, he wants it. He’s so pathetic and he’s so weak and he can’t believe he’s so hard from the thought, so eager to feel Oikawa pry him apart and stretch him open. Gods, he’s so fucking-
“Do it,” Iwaizumi tells him hoarsely. “Fuck me.”
Oikawa groans a little, twists his wrist in what Iwaizumi thinks is supposed to feel like a reward. Iwaizumi closes his eyes at the sensation, squeezes them tight when Oikawa trails his fingers down low to stroke over his hole.
“Where’s the lube?” Oikawa murmurs.
Some part of him writhes with embarrassment that Oikawa just expects him to have lube stored away, that Oikawa probably thinks Iwaizumi fucks himself regularly enough to keep some in his room.
He feels his cheeks flush and quickly mutters that it’s in his nightstand, prays to the gods that Oikawa won’t tease him over it.
He hears Oikawa shuffle around and bites at his cheek, winces at how raw it’s starting to feel. The sound of the cap popping open makes Iwaizumi flinch a little and he digs his nails into his palms, berates himself for being so jumpy.
At the feel of cool digits to his ass, Iwaizumi snaps his eyes open to see Oikawa settled between his legs. There’s a hungry but focused look on his face and it makes Iwaizumi feel even more weak when Oikawa glances up to him, gives him a small smile.
“Have you ever bottomed before?” Oikawa asks, fingers tracing over his hole.
Iwaizumi grits his teeth and shakes his head, feels frustration run through him even if he knows it’s a question that needs to be asked. Oikawa hums in response, something a bit smug on his face as he presses the tip of his finger firmly against Iwaizumi’s entrance.
“Have you fucked yourself before?” Oikawa asks. Iwaizumi forces himself to nod, refuses to look over at Oikawa. “Mmm. I’d like to watch you do that someday, Hajime. What do you use? Just your fingers?”
Iwaizumi just nods again, digs his teeth into his bottom lip as he feels Oikawa slowly work his finger into him.
It’s so embarrassing. It’s so frustrating. He never realized just how hard it could be being the one to be teased, to be asked questions. Gods, it’s just so- it’s so-
“Good, Hajime,” Oikawa murmurs, finger curling up. “You’re being so good for me.”
Something pleased lights up in him at that, is instantly stomped down by the frustration that some part of him is getting off to praise from Oikawa.
Gods, just how pathetic is he?
Iwaizumi shudders and chews on his bottom lip, keeps his eyes squeezed shut as Oikawa fingers him open so very slowly. It’s so different from what he’s used to and it hurts, just a little, when he slips in another finger and then another but it feels good too. Tight. Full. He likes it and he never expected to like it, never expected that he would have to fist his covers in an attempt to keep from grinding against Oikawa’s fingers.
“Oh, Hajime,” Oikawa breathes, curling his fingers to make some strangled moan leave him. “You look so good like this. Do you like it?”
Iwaizumi swallows back the traitorous whine that almost wants to leave his throat and nods instead, answers because he’s afraid that if he doesn’t Oikawa will stop and not let him come.
“Hey, Hajime,” Oikawa murmurs, twisting his wrist and edging his fingers in and out of him, “how many times can you come in one go?”
“Tooru, please,” Iwaizumi begs despite trying his hardest to keep quiet. “Just fuck me.”
There’s a little chuckle from Oikawa and Iwaizumi turns his head in some vain attempt to hide his face, hide the shame that’s on it, his embarrassment, his frustration.
“So needy,” Oikawa purrs. “Maybe next time we can see how many times I can make you come. I want to see how far I can make you drop.”
Confusion runs through Iwaizumi at that but it gets replaced by an almost overwhelming sense of pleasure because Oikawa said next time. Next time. Oikawa wants to do this more.
The thought of future fucking makes Iwaizumi whimper a little and there’s really no stopping how his hips buck back against Oikawa’s hand, how Iwaizumi grinds against the digits.
He’s wanted Oikawa for so long.
“Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” Oikawa teases, fingers curling up to brush over Iwaizumi’s prostate. “I would be okay if you just wanted my fingers. I’d love to see you ride them, take them all and come.”
“Jesus, fuck,” Iwaizumi whispers, his hips rolling back against Oikawa’s hand. “Tooru, please.”
Oikawa hums and gives another twist of his wrist, a curl of his fingers.
“Do you have any condoms?” Oikawa asks casually, fingers spreading inside Iwaizumi. “Or...would you like me to fuck you nice and raw?”
Iwaizumi breath catches at that and his eyes open as he shivers and lets out some pleading, wanting noise that he just knows Oikawa is going to give him hell over later.
Oikawa looks so fucking greedy staring down at him, hunger in his eyes and his mouth stretched into some pleased smile as he crooks his fingers and makes Iwaizumi gasp.
“Well? What do you want, Hajime?” Oikawa coos, his other hand petting at Iwaizumi’s thigh.
The choice of it almost makes Iwaizumi panic a little and he can’t place a finger on why it does but he grits his teeth and swallows, tries to calm himself down enough that his voice isn’t too shaky.
“Just- just fuck me,” Iwaizumi tells him, voice hoarse. Oikawa raises a brow and Iwaizumi dips his eyes down, cheeks burning with frustration. “No condom.”
“Mmm. Does that mean I can fill you?” Oikawa asks, voice dropping so low that it makes something tingle along Iwaizumi’s spine.
The thought of Oikawa fucking him- of Oikawa spreading him open and filling him- is too fucking much and Iwaizumi lets out the most humiliating, needy noise at that, feels himself clench down around Oikawa’s fingers despite trying his best not to.
“Fuck,” Oikawa swears softly. “You really want it, don’t you?”
Iwaizumi refuses to look at him and grits his teeth so tight it almost hurts, squeezes his eyes shut so Oikawa can’t see how they’re threatening to blur over with frustrated tears.
“Just do it,” he snaps. “Stop- stop making me-”
He cuts himself off in frustration, jerks a little when the hand on his thigh dances fingers up to his cock to stroke over it, tease.
“Mm, but you get that much more hard, Hajime,” Oikawa says softly. Iwaizumi keeps his eyes shut and bites his lip so he doesn’t whine and Oikawa hums, his hand moving from his cock and fingers slipping out of Iwaizumi. “I suppose I can be nice this once. How do you want it? Hard? Gentle?”
“Hard,” Iwaizumi tell him quickly, hoping it’ll speed up things. He feels so empty without Oikawa’s fingers in him and he hates how he’s aching for something to replace them. “Rough.”
“Should have expected that,” Oikawa murmurs, almost sounding like he’s talking to himself. There’s the sound of zipper being pulled down and Iwaizumi finds his hands shaking with anticipation when Oikawa’s hands push his thighs even further apart. “You ready?”
“Just fuck me,” Iwaizumi snaps.
Oikawa hums and shifts and it’s only then that Iwaizumi realizes that Oikawa is still fully dressed, that he’s holding Iwaizumi’s thighs apart and pushing his cock against his entrance while Iwaizumi is laid back naked and vulnerable and impatient.
The realization makes something white hot shoot through him and he trembles, is unable to keep himself from letting out a quiet moan.
It’s then that Oikawa pushes forward, it’s then that he feels Oikawa easing into him.
Iwaizumi shakes and throws his head back against the pillows, gasps out as he feels his body being stretched, as he feels some sort of burn that hurts a little but feels so, so good too. He feels so raw with Oikawa easing him open and he really can’t help but pant a little, grasp at the covers to keep himself from reaching up and clinging to Oikawa.
He’s never in his life felt so vulnerable and raw, never felt so fragile as Oikawa slowly- so very fucking slowly- slides into him until he’s buried in Iwaizumi and stretching him open, filling him with his cock.
“Gods, fucking- fuck,” Iwaizumi hisses, trying not to outright whine when he feels Oikawa bottom out.
Iwaizumi feels like he’s going to fly to pieces and Oikawa hasn’t even started moving yet.
“Gods you’re so fucking tight, Hajime,” Oikawa hisses, fingers digging into Iwaizumi’s thighs. The sting of his nails distracts him from the burn of being stretched and he opens his eyes to look up at a pink cheeked Oikawa, some strained look on his face. “I want to make you scream.”
“Fat fucking chance,” Iwaizumi manages to snap, just barely able to keep from begging please instead.
“Such a brat,” Oikawa chides, nails digging into Iwaizumi’s thighs a bit more. “That’s supposed to be my role, you know.”
“Do you ever shut the hell up?” Iwaizumi growls, words made ineffective by his pants, the choked moans held back. Something like desperation is starting to run through him and he loathes it, loathes that he wants to ask Oikawa to start fucking him, please. “I thought you were going to fuck me.”
“Impatient,” Oikawa purrs. His grip on Iwaizumi’s thighs tightens and Iwaizumi takes a quick little breath when Oikawa leans forward and presses a too soft kiss to his lips. “Make sure to tell me if you want to stop.”
Iwaizumi tries to scoff at that but can’t do anything more than let out a strangled whimper because Oikawa starts moving right after the words leave his mouth.
It’s so much different than fingering himself, so much different the one time experiment with a dildo. Oikawa is bigger than expected and he’s warm inside of Iwaizumi and the pace is so, so slow. Iwaizumi knows Oikawa is trying to get him used to it but he still finds himself impatient and petulant, squeezing around Oikawa in an attempt to get him to start fucking him faster.
It’s satisfying when Oikawa lets out his own little groan, drops his head and pants a little.
“Fuck me like you mean it,” Iwaizumi manages to rumble out, squeezing around Oikawa again.
He’s proud of himself for keeping his voice steady and strong right up until Oikawa lifts his head and look down at him with the piercing stare usually reserved only for challengers on the court. It’s even more intimidating with the blood smeared and drying on his face, with the knowledge that Iwaizumi is underneath him, naked and pried open. It’s cutting and mildly terrifying but Iwaizumi feels his cock twitch against his belly even as his heart speeds up.
“Okay, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says softly, the edges of his words sharp with determination. “I’ll give you what you want.”
Iwaizumi gets just a split second to breathe before Oikawa pulls out just so the tip of his cock is resting in him. There’s a paused moment where Oikawa smiles down at Iwaizumi, big and sweet and charming, and Iwaizumi curses himself right before Oikawa slams into him hard enough to make him choke on his own breath, his own spit.
Oikawa doesn’t give Iwaizumi a chance to adjust before he grabs onto Iwaizumi’s hips and pulls him closer, fucks him deeper, harder. It hurts but it feels good too and it feels even better when Oikawa's hands slide over to his own and he laces their fingers together, pins Iwaizumi’s hands to the bed.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” Oikawa orders, voice almost harsh. Iwaizumi groans but obeys, gasps when somehow it makes things tighter, even better. “That’s it. You’re taking me so well, Hajime.”
Some part of Iwaizumi squirms in embarrassment at that but he can’t help shivering at the words, letting his head tilt back in a quiet gasp. Oikawa takes that opportunity to bite into his throat, nip and nibble along it as he fucks Iwaizumi. He’s rougher than Iwaizumi expected and it hurts but it feels so, so good and he wants more, almost finds himself begging for it. When he digs his teeth into his bottom lip to stifle it and save some face, Oikawa groans against his neck, noses up along it and nips at his earlobe, run his tongue over the curl of his ear.
“Let go, Hajime,” Oikawa breathes quietly. “I want to hear you, please.”
It’s the first time that night that Oikawa has deigned to say please to Iwaizumi and something about that fills Iwaizumi with a terrible sense of rawness, neediness. It feels horrible and too much and he opens his mouth to tell Oikawa to shut up but ends up letting out a choked whimper. Oikawa moans at the sound of it, fucks Iwaizumi harder and peppers his throat with soft kisses that makes something in Iwaizumi wants to scream.
He feels vulnerable and his cock is aching to be touched and he hates how he’s falling to pieces under Oikawa so easily.
“You feel so, so good, Hajime,” Oikawa whispers to him, lips right against his ear. “You like it?”
“Tooru, please,” Iwaizumi chokes out. He doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to hear praise because it makes him feel so small and needy and too eager. It’s too much and he’s not ready to feel any of that. “J-Just fuck me.”
“But I am fucking you, Hajime,” Oikawa murmurs, voice light and too innocent for the situation. An unbidden, strangled whine slips out from Iwaizumi and Oikawa hums, pulls back from the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck and looks down at him with a pleased expression. “I like you like this. Needy. Tight. Whiny.”
Oikawa punctuates the words with rougher snaps of his hips, presses Iwaizumi’s hands tighter against the mattress. It makes Iwaizumi moan and he feels humiliation run through him when he tosses his head back, tries to rut back against Oikawa. He’s pathetic for letting himself be fucked like this, so pathetic for falling into something wanting and needy so easily.
But, gods, it feels so, so good too. It feels too good and he wants to come already and that’s embarrassing because he can usually hold off for much longer.
Maybe it’s a good thing his hands are pinned down so he can’t jerk himself. At least he’ll last a little longer.
That’s what he thinks right up until Oikawa slides his knee under Iwaizumi’s hip and changes the angle, starts brushing up against a spot that makes Iwaizumi see stars.
He sees stars and then he feels himself break a little, feels something in him crack.
It just feels so fucking good.
“Faster,” Iwaizumi demands, squeezing his eyes shut because he’s terrified he’s going to cry from how good it feels. “Please.”
Oikawa lets out a groan but doesn’t say anything in response and Iwaizumi absolutely despises that he feels fucking grateful when Oikawa picks up the pace. He can feel himself get closer and closer to the edge, finds himself whimpering a little because his cock is twitching from the need to be touched. He’s never come untouched before and he really doesn’t want to learn what it feels like.
“T-Tooru,” he pants out. “Let me touch myself.”
“No,” Oikawa growls, pushing Iwaizumi’s hands more firmly against the bed. “You’re going to come from my cock and that alone.”
Iwaizumi tries to jerk his hands free but Oikawa just pushes them down harder, snaps his hips rougher. It’s a wonderful, terrible reminder of how strong Oikawa is and Iwaizumi throws his head back with a pant, squeezes around Oikawa tight.
He’s close. He’s already so, so close and it’s not fair and it feels like too much and he doesn’t know how to handle the pleasure building up in him.
Iwaizumi lets out something like a moan and looks up at Oikawa through half-shut eyes, pants as he takes in the dried blood and bitten lip and flush across Oikawa’s cheeks.
“Gods, you feel so good,” Oikawa groans, voice a little rough and husky. “So tight. Are you going to come for me? Please?”
Iwaizumi moans at that and arches his back, rolls his hips to meet Oikawa’s rough thrusts. He’s barely able to keep his eyes open as he pants and squeezes around Oikawa, as he takes the relentless snaps of Oikawa’s hips. He’s right there, right on the edge of falling headfirst into pleasure and Iwaizumi shudders with the need to fall into it, the need to come undone.
He pants and swallows hard, breathes rough and ragged as his lashes flutter. There’s something like a groan from Oikawa and Iwaizumi forces his eyes open a bit more, stares up at him to see Oikawa’s eyes screwing shut and his lips parting.
There’s a hazy moment where he’s just staring up at his best friend, his mind barely cataloguing the fact that it’s Oikawa fucking him, pushing him further and further into bliss.
There’s that moment and then he blinks, feels something warm drip onto his face and hears Oikawa moan. Iwaizumi lets out a confused little noise and then realization hits him when there’s another drop, another drip.
Blood. Oikawa’s nose is bleeding again. Oikawa’s nose is bleeding while he fucks Iwaizumi.
There’s really no helping his orgasm.
Iwaizumi comes and he comes hard. He moans loud as he squeezes his eyes shut, throws his hips back against Oikawa. A typhoon of pleasure tears through him and he’s only barely able to register the pathetic little whine that rips through his throat, the way Oikawa lets out a strangled cry and stutters his hips against him. Something warm shoots into Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi shudders and rocks his hips back, grinds against his best friend and takes it all.
“Shit shit shit,” Oikawa hisses, hands squeezing Iwaizumi’s tight. “Fuck, Hajime.”
Iwaizumi just moans and falls back against the bed, pants as he feels a haze wash over him. Oikawa almost collapses on him but manages to keep himself upright. He’s panting, too, and winces just the same as Iwaizumi when he pulls out.
Oikawa crawls over to his side and pulls him close, almost into his lap as he wraps his arms around Iwaizumi. Oikawa touches his jawline, turns his head toward him with the lightest of nudges and then they kiss slowly, languidly until Iwaizumi feels dizzy with it. When he pulls his head back to try to gather himself, Oikawa grins almost drunkenly at him, fresh blood spread across his face. He looks like an absolute mess- a beautiful, terrible, filthy mess- and Iwaizumi nearly slurs the swear that slips from him.
“You’re...you’re fucking filthy,” Iwaizumi mumbles, some part of him still dazed and heavy.
Oikawa just laughs a little and grin a bit wider, leans forward to nose along Iwaizumi’s cheek.
“So are you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa coos, voice a little shaky but pleased. “Gods you were so- oh, you were so good.”
Iwaizumi shivers at that, closes his eyes and softens when he feels Oikawa’s fingers brush over the nape of his neck.
“Shut up, Shittykawa,” he grumbles. There’s no real bite to it, though, and he can hear the light exhaustion in his words. “You’re such a brat.”
Oikawa just hums, the sound soft and sleepy as he nuzzles against Iwaizumi a bit.
“You like it, though,” Oikawa tells him. “You like me.” There’s a hesitant little pause and Iwaizumi cracks an eye open, looks at the sudden uncertainty on Oikawa’s face, the vulnerable light in his eyes. “Right?”
Iwaizumi huffs and nods, reaches a hand up to flick Oikawa on the forehead. The idiot. Of course he likes him. Oikawa knows that.
“Dummykawa, don’t be stupid,” Iwaizumi mutters. “‘Course I do.”
Scarlet stained lips curl into a pleased smile and Oikawa hums, leans forward and presses a light kiss to Iwaizumi’s lips.
“Good,” Oikawa says. “So you won’t be mad that I made your bed so dirty then.”
Iwaizumi scowls and pushes Oikawa off of him, looks down at the mess of lube and blood all over his bed.
Of course.
Iwaizumi huffs and crawls out of bed, nearly sways on his feet and stumbles over himself when he stands. He winces at the light ache running through him, lets out an annoyed, tired growl when Oikawa gets off the bed and wraps his arms around him, clings to him.
“Where are you going?” Oikawa whines, nuzzling against him. “Iwa-chan, stay and cuddle.”
“I’m going to take a shower,” Iwaizumi grumbles, elbowing him half-heartedly. “And then crash in your bed since you made a mess of mine.”
He wrestles himself out Oikawa’s hold and starts walking out of the room, pauses at the doorway and bites his lip.
“Join me,” he says hesitantly, some part of him still nervous that all this isn’t real, that Oikawa is going to push him away.
There’s some sort of pleased sound from Oikawa and Iwaizumi feels a smile curl up on his lips when he starts walking and hears his best friend trail after him.
Damn. What a hell of a night.