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“My body aches, Hajime.”
It always started with the coo of his first name, whenever Oikawa was in the mood. And Iwaizumi meant in the mood: not the bullshit “I’m gonna get you horny just because I know I can” mood. The actual mood, the one that came on a silver platter with a side of bedroom eyes and soft whispers.
What prefaced his first name clued in Iwaizumi to what kind of activity Oikawa was looking for in his particular mood. Sometimes, with lips hovering just over Iwaizumi’s neck, he’d mutter, “I’ve been thinking about you all day, Hajime,” while palming his cock through his jeans. That meant he was looking for a nice, rough fuck. Other times, he’d toss around a playful, “Bet you can’t guess what I’m thinking right now, Hajime.” On those days, he wanted to get a little more kinky. Blindfolds and restraints abound. “I love you, Hajime,” was the cue for a romantic night of lovemaking.
“My body aches, Hajime,” meant he wanted a massage. In any other relationship, that would be an innocuous request. Who didn’t like massages? Especially after a long day at practice, finally getting home on a Friday evening. Oikawa often complained about his sore legs and back after a particularly grueling practice. And, according to him, Iwaizumi had magic hands that would solve all his problems if he just stopped using them to do stupid things like play video games or write term papers.
But, since it was Oikawa, it was never an innocuous request. His breath tickled the back of Iwaizumi’s neck. Iwaizumi rolled his shoulders.
“Cry me a river,” he replied, because he’d long since learned that Oikawa enjoyed sex a lot more if he put up a fight. Of course, this fact about Oikawa only made it more annoying when Iwaizumi actually wanted him to piss off. Softening him up was all a part of Oikawa’s game.
“Why must you be so uppity, Hajime?” Hands traveled down Iwaizumi’s chest and worked on unbuttoning his shirt. “All I want is a massage. Can’t you put down whatever you’re doing for a moment and pay attention to me?”
“It’s never a moment, and you and I both know that better than we know what our own dicks look like.” Iwaizumi eyed his laptop and the abandoned screen of unanswered short response questions. Classical literature. His least favorite subject, and Oikawa knew it well.
“Take a break.” Oikawa slid Iwaizumi’s shirt off his shoulders and smoothed his palms along his biceps. “Come rub me all over.”
“You’re gross.” Iwaizumi scooted his chair backward and tossed his shirt onto the pile of dirty laundry in the corner of their bedroom. He stood to face Oikawa and found that he’d already discarded his shirt and pants, leaving him in just a pair of loose boxers. The lump in the front wasn’t hard yet, but Iwaizumi was certain it’d get to be soon. “I’ll heat up the oil. Go lie down on the bed and wait for me.”
Oikawa bounced into action, his seductive smirk warping into an excitable grin. “Okay!”
His voice cracked from his unadulterated enthusiasm, and for a moment they were teenagers again trying out this kind of stuff for the first time. Iwaizumi chuckled to himself as he walked out of the bedroom and retrieved the bottle of massage oil from the cabinet in the kitchen. He poured some into a small bowl and popped it in the microwave for thirty seconds – Oikawa always complained about it not being hot enough, but Iwaizumi was certain that if he heated it for any longer he’d be making fried chicken out of Oikawa’s back.
Somehow, Oikawa had lost his boxers on his way to the bed from Iwaizumi’s desk. Light filtered in through the window a few feet above him, dying his skin a delicate shade of sunset. Iwaizumi set the bowl on the sill where he could reach it with ease.
“Ugh, your jeans are so scratchy,” Oikawa complained, looking up from the pillow and eyeballing Iwaizumi’s legs. “Can’t you change into something softer?”
“Do you have any suggestions, your Majesty?” Iwaizumi replied.
“You could always be naked.” He waggled his stupid eyebrows like a stupid idiot. Iwaizumi sighed and changed into a pair of sweatpants instead. “You’re no fun.”
“If you came into this relationship expecting fun, boy do I have some news for you.”
Iwaizumi straddled Oikawa’s hips and smoothed his hands down his back. Oikawa tucked his head into his arms and let out a relaxed sigh. His skin was still sticky from sweat, and the smatterings of acne that clustered between his shoulder blades glowed red at the contact of Iwaizumi’s rough hands. Iwaizumi walked his thumbs down his spine, then back up again before reaching for the oil.
“Any places you want me to focus on especially?” he asked.
“Oh, my lower back hurts something awful,” Oikawa replied, wiggling his hips underneath Iwaizumi. “Focus on that.”
This was code for massage my ass, and Iwaizumi knew it well, but he wasn’t about to complain.
He dripped the hot oil down Oikawa’s back and pooled it just above his ass. Oikawa twitched at the sensation, and rivulets slid down his sides and formed damp spots on the sheets. Good thing it was Oikawa’s turn to do the laundry this weekend. Iwaizumi placed the bowl back on the windowsill before pressing the heels of his palms between Oikawa’s shoulders.
His skin was much more pliant with the oil softening the scratchiness of Iwaizumi’s calloused hands. Iwaizumi pressed his fingertips into the base of Oikawa’s neck and slid his hands down his spine, returning to the top whenever he reached his tailbone. He walked his hands back and forth and rolled circles into Oikawa’s deltoids, then squeezed the inches of muscle that connected his neck to his shoulders. His arms were finely sculpted, and Iwaizumi yearned to rub them down. He leaned forward so his chest was mere inches from Oikawa’s back, and he swore he heard a small whine when he exhaled against his neck.
He lingered, splaying his fingers around Oikawa’s biceps and feeling every contour of his muscles. The oil smelled of lavender and vanilla, but it couldn’t mask the refreshing scent of Oikawa’s shampoo, or the sharpness of his favorite post-practice deodorant. Iwaizumi inhaled him and breathed him out like it was the only air he could breathe.
He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the back of Oikawa’s neck before squeezing his arms and retreating to his original sitting position. Oikawa squirmed.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said lower back,” he said, insistent.
“I’m getting to it.”
Iwaizumi shuffled backward so he was sitting on the backs of Oikawa’s thighs. His hands soon followed, trailing through the pool of oil that rested in the curve of his lower back. He kneaded the muscles just above his butt, focusing on the tense knots that always seemed to collect in the same spots. Whether it was how Oikawa jumped for his serves, or how he sat in class, or how he slept, no matter how hard Iwaizumi worked at loosening those knots, they’d be back within the week.
Nevertheless, Iwaizumi ground his knuckles into Oikawa hard enough to make him groan in pleasure. He pressed against him with the weight of his body backing him up, and when he placed his hands a certain way, he could make Oikawa’s back crack. With every pop, Oikawa went more lax and voiced his satisfaction through quiet moans and heavy breaths.
“Magic hands,” he whispered, turning his head to the side so he could look at Iwaizumi. “You’re so good at this, Hajime.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Oikawa’s further comments served only as not-so-subtle indications that hey, I’m getting a boner over here, hurry up and get to the sexy part. Iwaizumi chuckled to himself as he slid his hands further down Oikawa’s back to cup his ass cheeks. He shifted back a few more inches so he could rub at Oikawa’s hamstrings and work out the stress that was only second to his lower back. His thumbs left oily imprints on the insides of his thighs. When he finally smoothed his palms over his butt and pried his cheeks apart, he swore that Oikawa’s asshole twitched.
Not that it wasn’t a pretty sight. Oikawa kept himself meticulously clean. The sensation of squeezing that supple flesh, plus the ethereal gasps escaping Oikawa’s lips at an increasing volume, threw Iwaizumi into a haze that smelled like flowers and tasted like warm summer air. Iwaizumi peered down at Oikawa’s ass and licked his lips.
“Why’re you stopping?” Oikawa grumbled. Iwaizumi looked up at him, and he knew from the way Oikawa’s expression changed that Oikawa understood his intentions. “Oh, Hajime.”
“Be quiet and enjoy yourself.” Iwaizumi smoothed his hands back up Oikawa’s back and rested them against his shoulder blades. He lay down on his stomach between Oikawa’s legs, and tugged one of his cheeks to the side with a firm hand. Oikawa shuddered against him and Iwaizumi felt every vibration.
He flattened his tongue and licked up his entrance, the light taste of massage oil infiltrating Oikawa’s natural scent. (He wasn’t about to say aloud that this was a major improvement to the practice of ass eating, but it definitely was.) Oikawa turned his head and let out a high-pitched whine into the pillow, which did little to mask the arousal in his voice. Iwaizumi shut his eyes and flicked his tongue around Oikawa’s hole, pressing just enough to trigger a reaction, but not nearly enough to bring Oikawa any sense of sexual satisfaction. His free hand wandered up and down Oikawa’s back and massaged his clenching shoulders. The oil had cooled enough for Iwaizumi to touch it without flinching first.
“Fuck,” Oikawa whispered, his voice drenched in desire. “Baby, please.”
“Don’t be such a whore.” Oikawa’s breath hitched and Iwaizumi grinned. “Horny Tooru.”
“Astute observation, Mr. Holmes.”
Iwaizumi stretched Oikawa’s hole with his thumb and thrusted his tongue inside of him. Oikawa crossed his ankles over Iwaizumi’s back and let out a filthy whine. His tongue darted in and out, in and out, until Oikawa’s writhing body was bright red from his cheeks to his… other set of cheeks. Oikawa trembled underneath him, and when Iwaizumi looked up he saw Oikawa’s knuckles, turned white from clinging onto the sheets like they would save his life. His eyelids fluttered open, but the whites of his eyes weren’t visible through his thick eyelashes. Sweat dampened the duck tail of hair that curled together on the base of his neck.
Immaculate was the word that came to mind. Iwaizumi removed his tongue and rested his cheek against Oikawa’s hip, smoothing his hands over his skin and drinking in Oikawa, Oikawa, Oikawa.
“Gorgeous…,” he mumbled, rubbing his legs against his partner’s. “Tooru.”
“Hm?”
“Nothing.” Iwaizumi exhaled through his nose and worked Oikawa’s hamstrings with the heels of his palms. “Just feeling you.”
“Deviant.” Oikawa reached back and ran his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair. “You like feeling me up.”
He knew Oikawa was expecting an argument, but Iwaizumi couldn’t find it in himself to put up an act. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
Oikawa had nothing to say back to him, so Iwaizumi planted one kiss against his lower back and rose to his knees. He could tell Oikawa had an erection from how he squirmed against the bed in a vain attempt to get some stimulation. He slapped his ass and Oikawa winced in reply.
“Roll onto your back.” Iwaizumi climbed off the bed and searched around their room for the bottle of mouthwash that he always kept nearby when he ate out Oikawa. Oikawa did as he was told, folding his arms behind his head. His erection stood straight in the air and cast a shadow on the bedsheets.
“That’s so not sexy,” Oikawa remarked as Iwaizumi sipped some mouthwash and swished it around in his cheeks. He spat it into a cup and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Neither are bacterial infections.” He grabbed a packet of lubricant from the desk drawer and threw it onto the bed.
Iwaizumi slid his sweatpants down his hips with Oikawa looking on, lust bleeding into his tender gaze. He kicked the pants into the pile of laundry and smoothed his hands over his happy trail; Oikawa bit his bottom lip and stroked himself with a loose fist. Iwaizumi had enough hair on his body to compensate for the lack thereof on Oikawa’s, but never did he feel the pressure to do anything more than trim his pubes for hygiene. Oikawa had a thing for his hair and how it tickled his skin when they rutted against each other during foreplay. Oikawa also had a thing for watching Iwaizumi strip in front of him, rolling his hips into the air and rubbing his palm against his cock. Oikawa had a lot of things, but it wasn’t Iwaizumi’s job to satisfy all of these things in one round of sexual intercourse.
Once he was hard, Iwaizumi shucked off his boxers and climbed back onto the bed. Oikawa splayed out his arms above his head and tilted up his chin so Iwaizumi could kiss down his neck. Iwaizumi happily obliged, peppering him with kisses and leaving wet teeth marks on his tender skin. Oikawa bucked his hips into Iwaizumi, and their moans echoed off each other in an off-beat harmony. His body was still oily and slipped against the sheets; Iwaizumi held him in place with the weight of his hands and pressed a warm kiss to his lips.
“Hajime.” Oikawa’s breath tasted like ice cream – he probably saw the truck on the way home and grabbed some – and felt like a breeze against Iwaizumi’s damp skin. The sun fell below the horizon and the vibrant colors of twilight softened into the comforting shades of dusk. Iwaizumi threaded his fingers through Oikawa’s hair and tugged: another one of Oikawa’s “things.” His grip elicited another chorus of slight gasps and shuddering moans.
“Blow me.”
Iwaizumi looked up with a loose smirk. That was the plan, but he liked playing with his food before digging in. “And if I do?”
Oikawa blushed. “Then you can fuck me, duh.”
“Hmmmm.” Iwaizumi scratched his chin, looking like he was in deep contemplation. “But I always fuck you.”
“Oh, suddenly getting bored now?” He stuck out his tongue. “What do you wanna do then? Want me to suck you off?”
Iwaizumi licked his lips. “No.” He scratched the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “Maybe like… finger me…”
“What?” Oikawa sat up in bed and Iwaizumi knew he heard what he said but he still cupped his hand to his ear and cocked his head toward him like the little shit he was. “What did you say, Hajime?”
“I want you to finger me, maybe.”
“Finger you?” Iwaizumi hid his face in his hands. “That’s new.”
“Shut up.”
“Want me to rub against your prostate? Make you come without touching your dick?”
“Shut up.” Iwaizumi’s ears burned as he squeezed his eyes shut. The mere thought made his dick twitch, and in that moment he really wished he could just disappear.
“You’re so kinky, Hajime,” Oikawa chuckled. He reached for the packet of lube, tore it open, and spread some on his fingers. “Turn around so I can make you feel good.”
Despite his qualms, Iwaizumi did as he was told. In an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelmingly embarrassing sex act that was yet to come, he worked his mouth over Oikawa’s cock, licking up the beads of precum leaking from the slit. Oikawa was quick to respond, bucking his hips into Iwaizumi’s mouth and moaning Hajime, Hajime, Hajime like it was the only word he knew. Iwaizumi worked up to a steady rhythm, gripping the base of Oikawa’s erection and swirling his tongue around his length in all the places he knew would drive Oikawa crazy.
And then a finger breached his entrance, and Iwaizumi lost it.
“C-Careful, don’t bite off Oikawa Jr.!” Oikawa complained, flicking Iwaizumi’s butt with his spare hand. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull out–”
“No, please.” It’d been too many times that Iwaizumi had desperately fingered himself in the shower to give up this opportunity. “Tooru, finger me.”
“Ohoho.” Iwaizumi pursed his lips around Oikawa’s cock in hopes it’d get him to shut up. He moaned, but words still escaped. “Horny Hajime. Hey, that’s alliteration.” Oikawa slipped in his index finger down to the last knuckle and stroked Iwaizumi’s inner walls. Iwaizumi could feel him searching, searching, searching… until his knees buckled, and an overwhelming wave of pleasure washed over him.
“Fuck…!” Iwaizumi gasped. He clutched onto the bedsheets but he couldn’t hold them tight enough; his hands were still too oily for a good grip. He slid off Oikawa’s dick because he didn’t trust himself not to bite him. “Not so much, I wanna – I wanna enjoy this.”
“Slower, then?” Oikawa retracted his finger an inch and gave him a few shallow thrusts. “Better?”
“Yeah.” He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. “Yeah, just like that.”
“Good.”
Oikawa continued at that pace, and once Iwaizumi was used to it he licked up Oikawa’s shaft and dragged more erotic moans from his tender lips. It’d taken him long enough to work up to deepthroating, so with Oikawa pressing a second finger to his entrance, he was going to make his lover scream in delight. He massaged Oikawa’s legs and gripped onto his left thumb – he’d read online that that would suppress his gag reflex – and swallowed Oikawa whole.
And god, did Oikawa scream.
Iwaizumi jerked out of sheer reflex and pulled his mouth off Oikawa before he clenched his jaw. Oikawa heaved underneath him, panting and licking his lips. “Jesus, Tooru, are you okay!?”
“Why did you stop.”
He looked between his legs to find Oikawa biting his reddened lips, his fingers frozen inside of him. Oikawa caught his eye and gave him a few quick thrusts to rile him up.
“Keep going. It felt – fuck, it felt good.”
“I get that, but don’t scream next time, you scared the shit out of me.”
“Please don’t talk about shitting when my face is in your ass. That’s so gross.”
“Oh, god, I didn’t even have that image in my head until you said that.”
“Awesome. Be quiet and keep sucking me off.”
His cock twitched again and hey, why didn’t he just disappear right then? Maybe evaporate into the sun, or burst into thousands of tiny particles and get whisked away by the evening breeze. That sounded real nice right about now.
Oikawa noticed immediately, because he always noticed everything, and Iwaizumi buried his face in Oikawa’s thigh when he heard a chuckle.
“Ooh, Hajime likes being told what to do.”
All of his confidence had bled out of him, so all Iwaizumi could say in response was a mumbled, “Shut up.”
“So kinky. Do you like being called dirty things too? Do you like being called a whore?”
Iwaizumi decided that sucking Oikawa’s dick again would be a more constructive use of his mouth, and did exactly that. Oikawa’s inane teasing melted into stifled moans as the stimulation returned to his entrance. His fingers were long and thin inside of him, spreading apart and pressing together in a scissoring motion that turned him red. He tried to buck his hips against Oikawa’s chest, but a hand clasped onto the base of his cock, preventing it from any further contact.
“Nope,” Oikawa chuckled, putting in a third finger, “you’re gonna come without touching yourself.”
“Tooru.” Iwaizumi rose off his dick again and a line of saliva trailed from his lips. He had to admit it to himself – the mere prospect made him throb.
Oikawa gave him a sharp few thrusts that dragged from him shameless gasps of pleasure. Iwaizumi crumbled under the sensation, and before he could admit he couldn’t suck dick and get fingered at the same time, Oikawa said, “Don’t worry. Just jerk me off. I wanna hear you, anyway.”
“God.” Iwaizumi wrapped his hand around Oikawa’s cock and pumped it like he would his own, if Oikawa would just let him. Instead, he was entirely at his lover’s mercy, squirming and rocking his hips against his tender fingers.
As he jerked Oikawa harder, Oikawa fucked him faster, deeper, more desperately. Every quiver of Oikawa’s body passed through Iwaizumi first, and when he could keep his eyes open long enough he could watch as Oikawa’s legs clenched and toes curled in delight. Then another shockwave of pleasure rippled through him, and the stream of profanity that rushed from his mouth would have embarrassed even the crudest of sailors. Oikawa couldn’t laugh his way through the high-pitched moans squeaking from his lips.
“I’m gonna come, Hajime…!” Oikawa arched his hips just so, and as much as Iwaizumi wanted to pull away at the last second to give him a sense of torture, he jerked him off as hard as his arm would pump until semen splattered his cheeks. That’d be something pretty for Oikawa to see.
Oikawa didn’t slow down after reaching climax. The sensations, rather, intensified until Iwaizumi was clutching at Oikawa’s skin and biting the inside of his thigh hard enough to make him hiss in pain, but what did he care when he had that hand tight around his cock and the other fucking him senseless and the smell of lavender oil thick in his nose and awful, beautiful Oikawa underneath him, driving him crazy.
Iwaizumi came with a choked shout and collapsed in a heap. His muscles burned from exertion – he was certain that he’d be sore tomorrow – and he disregarded the sticky mess that glued his chest to Oikawa’s stomach. He traced the inflamed teeth marks on the inside of Oikawa’s thigh and blew cool air on them to soothe the redness.
Oikawa panted. He slapped Iwaizumi’s ass and mumbled, “Get off, my leg is cramping up.”
“Good.” Iwaizumi climbed to his knees and turned around as best he could before flopping onto his back. He reached for the box of tissues on the floor and wiped up the mess on his face and chest, then Oikawa’s. Crusty cum was definitely not a necessary element of post-coital cuddles. His eyelids fluttered as he nuzzled against Oikawa’s side. This was bliss.
“That was good,” Oikawa said. Iwaizumi rubbed his head into the hand running through his hair. “That felt really good.”
“Yeah.” He paused for a moment. “Is that the hand you stuck up my ass?”
“... Yeah.”
“Gross.”
“Yeah.” Oikawa smiled, and Iwaizumi pressed a tender kiss to his neck. “We’ll shower later.”
Iwaizumi wiggled his hips and wedged his leg between Oikawa’s. With a relaxed sigh, he replied, “Sounds like a good plan to me.”