Archive of Our Own

The cute girl sitting two tables away keeps glancing at Hajime. 

Hajime had chalked it up to coincidence the first two times, then started worrying there might be something on his hoodie when she'd continued — he'd checked surreptitiously and nope, his hoodie was fine — and then wondered if she was trying to catch a glance of someone behind him, except he was the only one sitting there. 

It doesn't hit him that she might be interested until he accidentally catches her eye and looks away quickly, blushing, only to hear her giggle. 

Oh. 

Hajime fiddles with his pencil, eyes steadfastly on his paper. He peeks up at her through his lashes to see that she's looking right at him, smiling a little. 

Hajime holds eye contact, debating whether he should get up and talk to her. It's been a really long time since he's done something like this, and it probably won't pan out or go anywhere, but it's still fun, to flirt a little, to talk, to — 

Iwa-chan , Oikawa whines, and Hajime feels him coil around his neck. You're boring me. I want to go do something. 

"Shut up," Hajime hisses, holding a hand up to hide his mouth. He’s still getting a hold of how to think-talk. Takes a lot more effort than just speaking aloud. "I'm busy. Go entertain yourself." 

"Entertaining me is your job," Oikawa says into his ear, and Hajime sighs as he realizes that if Oikawa’s decided to materialize externally, Hajime's not going to be able to get rid of him. "Why is she looking at you? She seems like a threat." 

"She's not a threat, what is wrong with you?" Hajime says, pulling the hoodie tighter around his face. "Go away, stop bothering me." 

"I'm hungry, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says, "and bored! Come on. Let's go." 

"I swear to god, if you don't stop calling me that — " 

"Hey." 

Hajime snaps his head up, eyes wide. She's standing right in front of him, and she's even prettier up close — her eyes are bright, brown; teasing and warm. 

"Oh, um, h — hey." He awkwardly places his elbow on the table and leans his head into it, trying to give her a winning smile. "Hi." 

She tilts her head to the side, her hair following the movement. It's short, shoulder-length; it looks so soft. "What are you studying? Maybe we're working on the same thing." 

The likelihood of that is almost zero. "I mean, we're probably not." Wait, no, that was stupid — this is ending the conversation. "I would've remembered if I saw you in any of my classes." Hajime pats himself on the back for saving that. 

He hears Oikawa hiss, "She is stalking you. She is a threat." 

She laughs at him, reaching up to brush some hair back, out of her face. "Oh, that was smooth. I liked that." She gives him a teasing smile. "If I didn't know better, though, I might be worried you didn't wanna study with me." 

"Well," Hajime drawls, and he's finding his footing again. He can do this. He can have a conversation with a human person, like a normal man, even if the only person he really talks to these days is the parasite. "Good thing you do know better, right?" 

"I am going to eat her," Oikawa says, and she startles, taking a step back. 

"Sorry? What did you say?" she says, concern and fear etched onto her face. 

"Oh, what? I didn't say anything," Hajime quickly replies, thinking very hard: Shut up, shut up, shut up. 

"No, I think you did," she says, giving him a look. "Um. I have to go." She gestures at the table. "Good luck with — whatever you're doing." 

She turns on her heel and walks briskly back to the table, glancing at Hajime as she stuffs her things into her backpack, and Hajime watches her leave resignedly. 

"I fucking hate you," he says, staring at nothing. "I actually do." 

"You must buy food," Oikawa says, sounding much more chipper. "You require sustenance. I can feel it." 

"Fuck you. I'm going to starve so you die with me," Hajime says, and he feels Oikawa absorb himself back into his body. 

You can never die when I'm with you, Iwa-chan. I would never let that happen. 

“That’s the actual worst thing you could've said to me," Hajime grumbles as he gets up, stuffing his books into his bag, because he hates to admit it, but Oikawa is right. He is hungry. "Shittykawa." 

Shittykawa? Iwa-chan, that's mean. 

"What's mean is how you keep calling me that. Stop calling me Iwa-chan, Shittykawa!" 

It is an expression of affection. I am being friendly. Why should I not? 

"Because you're not my friend," Hajime gets out, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder. “You're literally a parasite.” Three months, he’s been dealing with this parasite clinging onto him; three months since he last knew peace. Sure, he got out alive of the situation that introduced him to Oikawa in the first place, but at what cost? 

Symbiote. 

"Same fucking thing," Hajime says, nodding at a person passing by who looks at him weird as he leaves the library. He'd gotten a seat way in the back corner because he knew Oikawa would try to pull some bullshit. He’d failed his classes last semester — begrudgingly saving the world with an annoying alien as your sidekick-slash-source-of-power took a lot out of your day-to-day schedule apparently — and he’s determined he’s going to pass this one. “You leech from me.”

I offer great strength. 

"Well, you can take that strength and shove it." 

Iwa-chan. Great. Now Oikawa sounds like he's sulking. 

Hajime sighs as he pushes the door open, making a face as he sees that it's started to rain. "You make it hard to meet people, Oikawa. Stop interfering." The closest grocery store is only ten minutes away and then another ten minutes to get home — he can brave the rain for that long.

Why do you need to meet people, Oikawa says and then moves to Hajime's ear: "You have me, Iwa-chan." 

Hajime shudders, chalking it up to the cold. "Yeah, well, you're not — like. A person." 

"Why do you need a person. You have Oikawa." He nuzzles against Hajime's ear and Hajime bats at him through the hoodie. "Like I have Iwa-chan. I do not need a person." 

The best part of it is, Oikawa sounds genuine. "Like a girlfriend, or boyfriend, or some shit. Or even just friends, period!" Hajime explains, flabbergasted that he's trying to explain basic human relationships to Oikawa right now. He hadn't expected this was how his day was going to go. “Just — a partner.”

"It seems inefficient," Oikawa declares after a beat. "I will do everything girlfriends, boyfriends, and friends do. I will be your partner." 

Hajime physically stops in the middle of the pathway. "Uh, no you will not." Hajime shudders at the thought of Oikawa anywhere near his dick. 

"Your penis?" Hajime feels Oikawa slither to the other side of his neck and shivers. "Why are you thinking about that?" 

"Shut up!" Hajime hisses out, cheeks flushed, remembering that Oikawa has the ability to read his mind. Fuck. "That's not — it isn't — " Don't think about your dick, don't think about your dick, don't think about your dick. 

He thinks about his dick. 

"Oh, is this related to the odd dreams you have sometimes?" 

Hajime wants to die. 

"They are quite detailed. I don't understand, but you seem to enjoy — " 

"Stop talking," Hajime says loudly, and someone passing by gives him an absolutely baffled look. He gives them a tight smile and points to his ear, mouthing, On call. "Shut up." 

Oikawa is, blessedly and surprisingly, silent. "I still do not understand what this has to do with girlfriends, boyfriends, or friends. Partners.” 

"How about we make a deal?" Hajime throws out, desperate. 

Hajime feels Oikawa perk up. "Deal? What deal?" 

"If you leave me alone for the rest of the day, I'll explain everything when we get back home, okay? We'll — fucking — watch some movies or some shit that'll help you understand, alright?" Hajime just needs Oikawa to stop asking him these questions, right now. 

"Everything?" Oikawa presses. 

"Yes, everything, god. What are you, a fucking lawyer?" 

"No," Oikawa says, "I am a symbiote." 

Hajime sighs explosively. "I'm going to strangle you." 

"That would be akin to trying to strangle yourself." Oikawa has the nerve to sound reasonable and rational. "It would not work." 

"Yeah, well, I could die trying," Hajime grits out, ducking his head as the rain starts to come down faster. "It would at least keep you busy. Entertained, since you're so fucking bored all the time." 

"You are a boring man when I am not here to help," Oikawa says simply, and Hajime rolls his eyes so hard he's convinced they're about to pop out of his head. 

"You're a fucking menace, is what you are." He glances up to see how much longer he has until he can get to the store — it’s probably about five minutes away. “Look, I enjoy living a peaceful life. Boring is good. Boring is fun even, if you think about it.” 

Oikawa is silent, and then sounds almost pitying when he says, “Iwa-chan. I am sure you meant that to be profound, but it was not.”

Hajime splutters, looking both ways as he jogs across the street. There aren’t many people out, thank god. He hates having to deal with crowds, especially now that Oikawa’s around, and the few people that do mill around keep to themselves, heads down. Hajime wishes he were one of them. “What would you know about what’s profound and what isn’t? Asshole.” 

“I know enough to know you are not profound,” Oikawa says, and Hajime scowls at nothing as he mumbles out, “Whatever,” stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

Hajime’s plenty profound. He thinks about all the ways he is — he reads, sometimes; that’s profound — and while he’s lost in his own head, he realizes that he’s at the store. It seems like there are enough people inside for it to be a problem if Oikawa gets any ideas, so he pauses at the side of the entrance, and says, “Okay, I go in there, you're not going to bother me, remember? Go back inside." 

Oikawa hums. "Will you be getting milk bread?" 

Hajime sighs, smile involuntarily tugging at his lips. He shouldn't find the way Oikawa consumes entire loaves of milk bread in seconds cute, but he has to be fucked in the head — obviously, considering who shares it with him — because he does. It's objectively disgusting, but Hajime can't help but be endeared. "Yeah, yeah. I'll think about it." 

"I am inside you," Oikawa reminds him. "I know you will." With that, he subsumes himself into Hajime's body, and Hajime shivers. He's still not quite used to it, if he's being honest. 

You will become used to it soon, Oikawa says.

"Stop responding to my thoughts and mind your own business." 

You are my business. 

Hajime pointedly pictures himself flipping Oikawa off, and laughs to himself. He's a funny guy. 

The moment he enters the store, he takes his hood off so he doesn't look suspicious. There are enough people around that Hajime's nervous — what if Oikawa decides now is the time to pop up? — and he doesn't want to attract any more attention than he needs to. He's glad that he's got his headphones in so it at least doesn't look like he's talking to himself. 

I will not make myself known. 

"That's what you said last time." Last time had involved scaring a dog as Hajime had gone for his morning run, traumatizing the owner in the process. "Look what happened there." He grabs the grocery basket, giving a small smile to the attendant dropping more off. 

Those were necessary measures. I was protecting you. 

"Against a chihuahua?" Hajime snorts a laugh. "Sure." 

The beast had teeth and was lunging toward you.

"It wanted to be pet," Hajime says, rolling his eyes as he heads toward the deli. "It wasn't a danger." 

I could have eaten it, but I did not. Oikawa sounds like he's sulking. I simply scared it because you asked me to stop eating things. 

"Yes, yes, good symbiote," Hajime says, laughing a little as he goes through the cuts. Maybe beef tonight, and then chicken for tomorrow? He might as well pick up a couple of filets of fish — salmon might be on sale. “Good puppy, even.” 

Milk bread, Oikawa says, and then, indignant, I am not a puppy! 

"Calm down, I'll get your milk bread." He grabs the cuts he needs, shoving them into his basket. "I have a system.” He ignores Oikawa’s protestation; he’s got a new thing to tease Oikawa about, he realizes, and he isn’t giving it up that easy. 

A system for what. And I am not a puppy, Iwa-chan, I am a symbiote. 

Hajime raises his eyebrows as he straightens and heads toward the produce. "A system for where I go first in the grocery store. It's always deli, produce, dairy and eggs, anything off the shelf, and then bakery. Where the bread is." He stays silent about the puppy comment again, smiling.  

Why is bread last? I want it now. 

"It's last because that's right before the cashier," Hajime explains calmly. "And it's not like you can eat it now, anyway." 

Do not forget it. 

"As if you'd let me." 

It passes by quickly. Hajime finds it easy to settle into the routine of explaining to Oikawa whatever it is he's buying — he realizes with a start that he hasn't been out at the grocery store with Oikawa before. He's always ordered online and had it delivered. 

Well, first time for everything. It was only recently he felt like he could take Oikawa out in public and he wouldn't be an embarrassment. 

When Hajime finally reaches the bakery, he searches for the milk bread and grabs one. When Oikawa seems to perk up but not say anything, Hajime decides that he deserves a reward. "Since you've been so good," Hajime starts, "at not causing a scene, I'm getting you three." 

Three? 

"Yeah, three loaves," Hajime says, laughing at Oikawa's delighted yell as he grabs two more loaves. "See? Good things happen when you don't cause a scene. Don't ruin it, though." 

I will not. 

Hajime nods, holding the breads in one hand and the basket in the other as he heads toward the cashier. The self checkout is busy, whereas the one stall open with a cashier is empty, so he sighs and heads toward the man standing behind it, smiling as he gets near. 

"Hey," he greets, plopping the bread down and then starting to empty the basket. 

"Hey," the man — the name tag says Javier on it — says, smiling back. Hajime absently notes that he's really cute — dark, curly hair; warm, brown eyes. An easy, friendly smile. "Did you find everything okay?" 

Hajime nods. "Yup." He shoves his hands in his pockets as he waits for Javier to finish checking out his groceries, zoning out on accident — except, unfortunately, he zones out while staring directly at Javier. He only realizes this when Javier asks: 

"And would you like a bag?" 

Hajime blinks, flushing as he sees Javier's eyebrows raised playfully. "N — no, uh. Wait, yes. I'm — I'm really sorry about the staring, I zoned out — " 

Javier laughs. "You're fine." He punches in something on the computer and glances at Hajime out of the corner of his eye. "Besides, I wouldn't mind if you were staring." 

Hajime opens and shuts his mouth. "Uh." 

Javier bites his lip, eyes widening. "Oh, sorry — I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable — " 

"I'm not!" Hajime clarifies. "I'm not, at all." He doesn't want Javier to think he's homophobic. "I'm bisexual, so." Okay, well, he didn’t need to say all that. 

Javier's eyebrows shoot up and he blinks. "Oh!" He tilts his head to the side. "Um, congratulations?" 

Hajime takes out his wallet. Fuck, he wants to die. This is the second time he's fumbled so hard with someone cute. 

He is annoying you? 

Holy fuck. No, Oikawa cannot be trying to get involved right now. He thinks really, really hard: No, absolutely not, stay put. 

"Uh, sir? Your total's $50.17." 

"Right, right, thank you," Hajime stutters, fumbling with his card as he taps it on the reader. Nothing happens. He smiles, starting to sweat. "Uh, lemme try that…" He taps it again. Nothing. 

Is the machine bothering you? I will destroy it. 

You will do no such thing, fuck off, Hajime thinks frantically, tapping it once more, and then giving Javier another smile. "I'll just swipe it." He raises his eyebrows. "Haha, technology, right?" He wants to kill himself for saying Haha out loud.

Javier gives him a polite laugh. "Yup."

Hajime wants the earth to open.  

Oikawa’s in his head: I will eat him and he will no longer be the source of these feelings. 

"No!" Hajime blurts out. "No eating anyone!" 

Javier's staring at him with wide eyes. "Um." 

"Sorry, that — I'm on — " He taps his ear, where his headphones are. "Bluetooth. Call. Talking to a friend that's being annoying." 

Javier relaxes. "Oh, right, right. Yeah." 

Hajime quickly swipes his card, relief rushing through him when it goes through easily. He nods, not trusting himself to speak, as he grabs his groceries. 

"Would you like your receipt — " 

"I'm good, thank you," Hajime says, smiling tightly, and then breathes a sigh of relief as he power-walks out of the grocery store. The moment he's out, he says, "Oikawa, you cannot eat everyone that makes me have an emotion." 

Oikawa's silent for a moment. But what if they are unpleasant emotions. I dislike when you are hurt. 

Hajime's heart does a weird thing at that. Odd. "Even bad emotions are…good emotions. Like, they're good for you. I think. They are!" He cannot be explaining emotional intelligence and the power of feelings to an alien from outer space. "I am not explaining emotional intelligence and the power of feelings to an alien from outer space." He takes a sharp right around a corner, barely avoiding a group of college students who’ve decided the middle of the sidewalk is the best place to hold court. Fucking students. 

You forget I am inside you. I can see your thoughts. You do not understand what you are saying. 

"Fuck off," Hajime says, scowling, because he doesn't have to point it out. "What do you know, anyway?" 

I know I dislike seeing you hurt. 

Hajime's face burns at the silky tone. His grip tightens around the handle of the grocery bags. 

And that you are very bad at taking care of yourself, so I will have to, for you. 

"Shut up! I'm great at taking care of myself," Hajime says, scowling harder. Indignation and warmth war within him. He's a grown ass man; he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. "And what would you do, anyway? I have to take care of you, or you'd go around fucking — eating everyone." 

They deserve it, Oikawa sniffs. It will solve all your problems. 

"Yeah, until the cops show up at my doorstep, and then take me to jail." 

I will simply eat the cops, then. 

Hajime has to bite down a smile at Oikawa's haughty tone. "Oh, will you? What about the cops they send as backup?" 

Eat, obviously. 

"And then when the FBI gets involved?" 

Eat more. 

"And when — " 

Iwa-chan, I will consume the world twice over for you. Nothing will stand in your way when I am here.  

Hajime almost trips over the curb on the sidewalk as he steps down, about to cross the street, face burning. He should be disturbed. He is disturbed. Right? "That's not how the world works." 

I will make it the way the world works. 

"You can't even exist here without me," Hajime points out, rolling his eyes as he tries to recover from whatever… that was. "So I don't think so, actually." 

Iwa-chan, just wait. When I recover my full strength — 

"You're going to take over the world, yeah, yeah," Hajime mutters, gesturing apologetically at the car that almost crashed into him. "I remember your speech." Hajime had agreed to letting Oikawa use his body as a host mostly so he would stop talking. The whole we're in a life threatening situation and this is the only way to survive thing had just been a bonus. 

He can feel Oikawa pouting. Iwa-chan, you do not take me seriously. 

Hajime sighs. "Oikawa, I do take you seriously." 

You dismiss me. 

Hajime shifts the bags in his hands as he goes up the steps to his building, finally almost home. "I don't! Look, some of the stuff you say is just — you can't be saying that stuff, okay?" 

Why? 

"God, this again," he mutters, shouldering the door to the building open. He hits the elevator with his elbow, leaning against the wall. "Look, I get you're into the whole — murder and mayhem thing, but I can't do that, okay? These are the ground rules. You have to respect them." 

Fine, Iwa-chan, Oikawa sighs, and Hajime envisions himself patting Oikawa on the head. Good puppy, he thinks with a smirk. 

That's when Oikawa pops out, floating right by Hajime's face so he can snarl, "I am not a puppy, Iwa-chan!" 

Hajime snickers. “Okay.” He smirks at Oikawa. “Eat me, I guess.” 

Oikawa makes a low growling noise, which cracks Hajime up. 

“Puppy,” he gasps out, stumbling into the elevator when it opens up. “You even yap like one.” 

“This is not funny,” Oikawa whines. “This is — I am not a puppy! I am an incredibly powerful — ” 

“Chihuahua.” 

“Iwa-chan!” 

Hajime finally recovers, letting out a loud sigh. Oikawa doesn’t say anything, still floating next to him. “Are you sulking?” Hajime asks when the only sound is the ding of the elevator as he goes up. 

Oikawa doesn’t say anything. Still floats next to Hajime, face turned toward the wall. 

“C’mon, Shittykawa, get back inside,” Hajime says, pointing at himself. “We’re almost at my floor. Can’t have you floating around where people can see.” 

Oikawa resolutely ignores him. 

Hajime’s eyes flicker toward the floor count, watching the number raise up. Only five more floors left. “Oikawa, c’mon.” 

“Why? Since I am a chihuahua, people should be fine seeing me, should they not? Just a pet! A puppy! A normal sight!” 

Four floors. “Oikawa, c’mon, this isn’t funny — ” 

“It is not? Hm, I seem to be enjoying myself, though.” 

Three. “Oikawa.” Hajime might be pleading, just a little. “Look, this wouldn’t be good for you, either. If you were caught. Think about — think about how bad it could be!” 

“Well, since I am a puppy, I am sure someone might take pity.” 

Two. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, Oikawa, I didn’t mean it. You’re so powerful and dangerous. Can you please just — ” 

“Yes,” Oikawa says, perky, and then absorbs himself into Hajime just as the elevator doors open. 

Hajime’s heart is racing as he makes eye contact with his neighbor — an elderly woman who always loves to remind him about the dangers of being single. 

“Mrs. Kinjō!” he says brightly, concealing a shudder as he feels Oikawa slither inside him. “How are you today?” 

She lets him exit and then sighs, “Oh, you know how it is.” She shakes her head. “It’s always something, in this life, isn’t it?” 

Hajime’s hands are still shaking a little from how close he’d cut it. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. Always something.” 

“You need to enjoy your life while you can, Iwaizumi,” she says, nodding as she pats his arm. “Find yourself someone nice. A partner. Someone to take care of you.” 

I will take care of you, Oikawa chooses to say at that moment, and Hajime splutters. If that is what a partner is, then I will be your partner. I am your partner, since I take care of you.  

“Yeah, sure, Mrs. Kinjō,” Hajime says, flushed. “Sure, I definitely will.” That’s not what a partner means, he thinks at Oikawa. Just, shut up, let me have this conversation. 

“ — telling me that your generation is the loneliest there’s ever been! Can you believe that! I’m telling you, it’s because people don’t go outside anymore, it’s all — ” 

“Exactly, Mrs. Kinjō,” Hajime says, nodding along. “It really is that. Oh, no, it looks like the elevator’s about to shut — ” He reaches out and grabs the elevator door before it starts shutting. “There you go.” 

“Oh!” Mrs. Kinjō laughs as Hajime smiles tightly at her. “Thank you, dear.” 

“Of course,” he says, laughing along with her, smiling as she gets into the elevator. Still agreeing with what she’s saying as the elevator doors shut, and then lets out a sigh. 

You do not like her.

“She’s fine,” Hajime says, shrugging, because he really doesn’t mind. She seems lonely. He’s happy to talk to her.  “And do not try to say something like ‘I’ll eat her’ or anything.” He turns on his heel and walks toward his apartment door, groceries digging into his hands. 

I was not going to suggest that. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He has to figure out how to talk to Oikawa in his mind without having to expend as much concerted effort as it takes, because he’s really sick of sounding like he’s talking to no one. “Just — don’t listen to what she says, and all.” 

About partners? 

Hajime unlocks his door and walks in, setting the groceries down as he kicks off his shoes and fumbles the light switch on. “Yeah. She’s just lonely or some shit.” 

Hajime shivers as Oikawa manifests next to him, his next words in his ear. “You seem very resistant to this topic of discussion. Are you hiding something?” 

“I’m not hiding anything!” Hajime says, scowling at nothing as he grabs the groceries and heads toward the kitchen. The apartment’s small enough he gets there in a few steps. “You’re literally inside me all the time. You’d be able to tell if I was.” He sets the milk bread down onto the counter and then points at Oikawa’s face. “Don’t eat that until later.” 

Oikawa looks down at the bread. Blinks his large eyes, mouth parted enough that Hajime can see his sharp, sharp teeth. The day Oikawa learns pouting is the day it’s over for Hajime, he thinks. 

“What is a pouting?” Oikawa asks. 

“None of your business,” Hajime says. 

“You still have not answered what you are hiding.” 

“I’m not hiding anything, oh my god,” he says, rolling his eyes as he starts putting everything away. He’s hungry, but it’s still too early for dinner. Maybe he’ll fix himself a snack?

“You said you would explain.” 

“What?” 

“Earlier. You said you would explain everything about boyfriends, girlfriends, friends. Partners,” Oikawa recites. “And why I do not fit the definition of it.” 

Hajime squints into the air. “Did I say that…?” 

“Yes,” Oikawa says, impatient. He moves to the other side of Hajime. “You did.” He butts his head gently against Hajime’s cheek, moving out of the way when Hajime swats at him. “Iwa-chan.” 

“Stop that,” Hajime says, sighing loudly. He doesn’t know how the fuck to explain any of this. “It’s — look. It’s complicated. And it isn’t something you can really do anything about, or anything that you’re going to be able to get, so don’t worry about it.” 

“You want this. You tell me I cannot provide this. It is something that I can do something about.” 

Hajime sighs again as he grabs a drink from the fridge. He deserves a beer, he thinks. It’s basically a snack. “Okay. Fine. Whatever.” He cracks it open and takes a big gulp, heading toward the couch — a whole three steps away; he loves being broke — and then sitting down heavily. “Ask away.” 

“What can a partner do that I cannot,” Oikawa immediately asks. 

Hajime takes another swig, contemplating it. “Have a body.” 

“I have one. Yours.” 

Hajime shuts his eyes and leans his head against the back. “That doesn’t count.” 

“Why?” 

“Because — ” He splutters. “You can’t do… things.” 

“Such as?” 

His face burns. How the fuck did he get in this position? How the fuck is he supposed to answer? “Just… things.” His mind flashes through scenes of the porn he’s seen and he tries desperately to squash that down, squash any type of thought that goes in that direction. 

“You worry I cannot bring you pleasure?” Oikawa scoffs. “I am better than anyone you will ever have.” 

Hajime takes another swig, and then one more, just because he thinks he deserves it. “We’re not doing this,” he says loudly, staring at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.” How did his day turn into this? 

“You doubt me,” Oikawa says, lowly, and then there’s a wet tongue licking up his neck. 

Hajime yelps and flinches away, slapping his hand over it and glaring at Oikawa, heart racing. “What the fuck!” 

Oikawa blinks. “I am making you feel good.” 

“Okay, well, licking me doesn’t make me feel good!” He slams his beer down onto the coffee table, shaking his head. “And you can’t just fucking — lick people without asking!” 

“Well,” Oikawa says, sounding almost flustered. “I am asking now.” 

“No,” Hajime says, scowling and settling back into the couch. “God, you — ” He scowls harder. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, floating closer to him and butting him in the cheek. “Iwa-chan, please?” 

Hajime’s mouth falls open as he splutters. “What?” 

“Please,” he says. “I want to learn. Teach me.” 

“Teach — teach you…?” 

Oikawa nods. “How to make you feel good.” 

Hajime, who is a red-blooded young man, realizes he’s hard. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. When the fuck did that happen? 

Oikawa tilts his head down, zeroing in on his dick. “Interesting. Is this part of the process?” 

Hajime lets out an embarrassed gargle as he shoves Oikawa’s head to the side, curling over on himself and burying his face in his hands. “Let me die. Please. If anyone’s up there, now’s the time.” 

Oikawa nudges at his shoulder. “Iwa-chan, why are you so embarrassed? I see you use your penis for urination often. This isn’t different.” 

Hajime’s exhale is more of a scream. “Don’t say penis.” 

“Your reproductive organ.” 

Hajime straightens. “Okay. This is another rule. My dick is off-limits.” 

Oikawa lets out what sounds suspiciously like a whine. “I cannot be your partner if you refuse to teach me how to please you.” He nudges Hajime again, nosing up his neck. “Iwa -chan.” 

Hajime swallows hard, gripping his thighs. 

“I will make you feel good.” 

Hajime bites his lip. 

“Will you not let me try?” 

Hajime pauses. It’s been three months since he’s gotten off, if his count is correct — that’s when Oikawa had come into his life, and when he had stopped coming. If he were being honest, he isn’t sure how this topic hasn’t come up in that entire time. How he’s avoided it for this long. 

“It is easy if you think about it. Let me see what you like,” Oikawa says, voice dipping, and Hajime studiously avoids looking anywhere but at the ceiling as he nods once, sharply. 

Oikawa’s part of him, now. There’s no way they’ll be able to avoid having conversations about sex or masturbation, unless Hajime plans on becoming a monk. Which he very much does not. 

Oikawa makes an odd sound — almost like a chirp. Is that what he sounds like when he’s happy? “Good. Think about what you enjoy. I will learn this way.” 

What he enjoys? Hajime doesn’t know. Does furiously jerking off in the shower before he has to get ready for classes count? It isn’t particularly enjoyable but it gets the job done. 

Hajime licks his lips. “Uh.” 

I’m searching through your memories. Oikawa speaks in his thoughts. You enjoy it when it is quick? 

“Uh, no, I — um.” He realizes that he doesn’t have to say it aloud, and it helps, a little, to just be able to think: I don’t really know what I enjoy. I kinda just…do. 

Then we will figure this out together. External stimulation seems like an important factor. 

“No shit,” Hajime says, rolling his eyes. 

“Iwa-chan, I am not human.” The words are pointed. “You are being unhelpful.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Hajime mutters, and he breathes deeply, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Um, yes. It is an important factor.” His face burns as he adds, “There’s also… internal. Stimulation.” He can’t tell whether calling it stimulation is making this easier or harder on himself. 

He glances down at his cock. Well, it’s making something harder. 

Internal? 

Hajime closes his eyes and thinks of fingering himself, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dry. Remembers how it had felt when he’d finally been able to angle his own fingers so that he could reach his prostate, the jolt of pleasure that had traveled through him before frustration had taken over when he wasn’t able to angle his fingers like that again, when he hadn’t been able to brush against it once more. “Like… like that.” 

He can feel Oikawa’s curiosity as he says, Think of it again. 

Hajime can hear his heart thudding in his ears as he lets out a shaky breath. “Again?” 

Yes. You get a physical reaction from remembering what you’ve done to yourself. 

Hajime swallows hard. “You want me to…” 

Again, Iwa-chan. 

Eyes squeezed shut once more, Hajime imagines what he’d thought of before — him, laid out on his bed, legs spread. He realizes that Oikawa’s watching this, watching him think about fucking himself on his fingers — then wonders what it would’ve been like if Oikawa had been there — if he’d been opening Hajime up with a thick — 

He jolts up on the couch, eyes flying open. Arousal churns in his gut. Fuck. Fuck. Does he want this? Does he want Oikawa to — 

“Yes, you do,” Oikawa says right into his ear, and then there are sharp teeth tugging at it. “Let me, Iwa-chan. Won’t you?” 

Hajime doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. “I…” 

“Iwa-chan, I will make it good.” 

“It isn’t that,” Hajime says, swallowing hard. “It’s — ” It feels like crossing something that he shouldn’t. 

“We are one,” Oikawa says. “Why should our pleasure be separate?” There’s something smooth creeping up Hajime’s side, warm and weighted, and he gasps when he looks down to see something tentacle-like wrapping itself around his middle. 

“Wh — ” 

“You envisioned me in this form, when you were thinking of me stimulating you internally,” Oikawa says, right by Hajime’s ear. “I am just going off your memory.” The tentacle — Oikawa — wraps around him further, sneaking down to play with the hem of his jeans. “Is this good?” 

Hajime’s chest heaves as he stares down, wide-eyed. “I — I — ” He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Good.” Oikawa can’t smirk, but it sounds like he’s doing so. “Then I will continue.” 

“Oikawa,” Hajime croaks out, and why the fuck does his voice sound so wrecked already? “I don’t — ” He wants to say that he doesn’t know what he’s doing, what they’re doing, that this doesn’t seem like a good idea, but he can’t finish the sentence. 

“I will take care of you,” Oikawa says firmly. 

And Hajime — 

Hajime believes him. 

“Fucking — fine.” He huffs out a breath and then bolts up onto his feet. “But we’re not doing this on the fucking couch, of all places. I have a bed.” 

“Okay,” Oikawa says. 

Hajime stomps into his room. “And I’m not doing this clothed!” he says loudly. It would feel worse, somehow, if he were to get fucked wearing his clothes. And then he realizes that he’s about to be fucked, and has to stand in the middle of his room, frozen. 

“Undress, then,” Oikawa says. “Quickly.” 

“Can you give me a second?” Hajime snaps, angrily stripping off his shirt. “It’s not every day you lose your virginity to a weird alien symbiote creature thing.” 

“What is virginity?” Oikawa asks as his tentacles — there are two now? When did that happen — tug at the hem of Hajime’s jeans. 

“It’s a social construct,” he says. “But it’s still — like, a thing. For me.” It isn’t as if he’s daydreamed about making it special, but. “It’s supposed to be, like… special.” 

“Oh,” Oikawa says. “Then this is perfect. What is more special than me?” 

Hajime lets out a surprised laugh at that. “Well. I mean. You’re not wrong, I guess.” 

“You were laying on the bed, in your memories,” Oikawa reminds him, and Hajime huffs out a, “Yeah, yeah,” as he strips off his jeans. Hesitates only a second before stripping off his underwear, too, because what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. 

He positions himself on the bed, laying down in the middle, and then stares up at the ceiling. Thinks, briefly, What the fuck am I doing with my life, and Oikawa answers: 

“About to enjoy it.” 

Hajime snorts out a laugh, and then widens his eyes as he feels Oikawa’s tendrils snaking up his legs, wrapping around his knees to tug them up. Just like how he’d pictured himself. 

“Like this?” Oikawa asks, and Hajime nods sharply, heat gathering in his belly. He breathes out slowly and reaches out, about to touch himself, get himself hard again, when there’s a thick tentacle wrapping around his wrists, gathering them together and gently moving them above his head. 

“What — ?” 

“This is how you pictured it,” Oikawa says, and Hajime bites down on his lip as he flexes against the grip, testing it. It gives easily. 

Hajime keeps his hands above his head. Then, unaware where the fuck all this is coming from, adds, “Keep… keep them there.” 

Oikawa doesn’t hesitate before tightening the grip on them, pushing them further on the bed, and Hajime bites the inside of his cheek as arousal jolts through him. Only has to think about what it would feel like if Oikawa was forcing his legs open, too, before Oikawa’s doing that as well — wrapping his tentacles — there are more, now, how many can he make? — around his thighs and pushing them apart. 

“I can make as many as I wish,” Oikawa answers to the unasked question, and Hajime’s breath exits him with a shudder. 

“Why are you talking to me instead of just thinking at me like you normally do?” Hajime asks, embarrassed beyond belief that Oikawa’s saying these things out loud. 

“You enjoy it when I do,” Oikawa answers simply. “I can tell.” 

The chill in the air is what must be getting to Hajime, because he shivers, turning his face into his pillow and squeezing his eyes shut. “Whatever.” 

Oikawa has the audacity to laugh at him, even as he pulls Hajime’s legs wider.  

“Shut up,” Hajime hisses, face burning, cock twitching. 

“You want me to talk,” Oikawa says, smug. “You enjoy it, Iwa-chan.” 

“I don’t,” Hajime denies, and Oikawa laughs again. 

“I can hear your thoughts, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, slinking close to Hajime’s ear. “I know you do.” There are tendrils wrapping themselves around Hajime’s mid, slinking up his chest to tweak a nipple. “Now, think of what you would like me to do to you, and I will do it.” 

Hajime can’t think. His mind is blank as he registers Oikawa’s words, and then there’s a flood of images — Hajime with his hands held together at his back, face-down on the mattress; Oikawa holding him up midair, stretching him until he feels like he might burst; Hajime rutting into a nebulous form of Oikawa while Oikawa fucks into him; Oikawa asking him how he feels, if he’s feeling good; Oikawa taking care of him — and he makes a small noise as he realizes that Oikawa can see all those, too. 

“Slower,” Oikawa says. “I will do all of that for you, but show me one, today.” 

Hajime swallows hard at the promise in Oikawa’s voice and nods. He can — he can focus. He squeezes his eyes shut and thinks about Oikawa wrapping his tendrils around his cock — and then Oikawa does. 

It feels odd. Inhuman. There aren’t any callouses, no real warmth except for Hajime’s own, but it feels so good. He flexes his hips, rutting up into it and letting out a sharp gasp as Oikawa toys with the head. 

“Tell me how you would like me to touch you.” Can symbiotes sound breathless? Because Oikawa almost does. 

“I’m — ” Hajime can’t say it aloud. 

“Then think it,” Oikawa says, and Hajime bites his lip as he nods sharply. Thinks about Oikawa tightening his grip, about moving faster; toying with his head, cupping his balls, feels arousal at the thought, and then Oikawa actually does it, and the arousal magnifies. He can’t stop himself from letting out a small oh when Oikawa traces his tip, dipping a little too far in. He jerks back, shaking his head. 

Not today, he thinks, and Oikawa retreats immediately. 

“What else?” Oikawa murmurs. “Tell me, Iwa-chan.” 

Hajime’s mouth is parted as he gasps, flexing against the grip Oikawa has on his wrists, and then whines when Oikawa pushes them into the bed harder. Tries to close his thighs, squeeze his legs together, but can’t. “I — ” What else? Hajime already feels as if he’s about to fall apart. He doesn’t know. He can’t speak. It already feels like it’s about to be over far too quickly, and then he seizes up as he comes, suddenly, when Oikawa tugs a little too hard against his balls, the sharp jolt of pain enough to push him over. 

He lets out a strangled gasp as he does, shaking his head and panting out, “Too much, too much,” when Oikawa keeps going. 

“You want me to,” Oikawa says, completely neutral, and Hajime whines, digging his head into the pillow as he shakes it back and forth. He doesn’t, he doesn’t, but he does. 

The sharp sting of overstimulation overwhelms him and he whimpers, and finally, Oikawa pauses, loosening his grip. Still wrapped around him, enough to register, but not so much that Hajime feels overwhelmed. 

Hajime’s chest heaves as he stares up at the ceiling, gulping down breaths. He feels wrung out, even though he hasn’t actually done anything. He opens his mouth, about to say something — he isn’t sure what — when Oikawa’s prodding at his hole, teasing the rim. 

“What are you — ” 

“Internal stimulation is something you also pictured,” Oikawa says. 

“No, I need — we need lube for that,” Hajime gets out, panic racing up his spine. “You can’t just go in like — ” 

“I can create lubricant,” Oikawa says, and Hajime realizes that the tentacle prodding at his hole is wet. “I will ensure that you do not hurt.” 

Hajime shivers as the prodding becomes a little more insistent. His hands are still pinned above his head, thighs still spread, and the moment he nods, Oikawa slips inside him. 

It’s nothing like his own fingers. Nothing like a toy, either. Foreign, alive — Oikawa writhes along his insides, moving without apparent aim or purpose. Hajime thinks it would be nice if he were thicker, and suddenly, Oikawa’s growing inside him. 

Hajime groans, thinking deeper, and Oikawa is. Moans as he thinks about Oikawa nailing his prostate and Oikawa follows through. Barely gets out the word, “Faster,” before Oikawa’s obeying, and he rocks his hips against it, sweat sticking against his temples. 

“Oh — oh.” His mouth works around a sound as he feels pressure start to build in his gut, clenching down hard every time Oikawa brushes against that spot, thrusting shallowly. Unbidden, thoughts of how he must look — spread out, held down, flushed, cock dripping again — flash through his mind, and he wonders what it would be like if there was a tentacles inside his — 

There’s something poking at his lips a second before he can finish the thought, and he moans unabashedly as Oikawa starts gently fucking his mouth, too. The tentacle is thick in his mouth, never pushing in too far, and he arches as he writhes, pleasure overtaking every sense. His shout is muffled when he comes once again, throat working as he tries to swallow around the tentacle in his mouth, almost suckling at it as he comes down. Moans softly as Oikawa stops all movement, removing the tentacle from his mouth and trailing it down his chest, instead. Wet, glistening.

He tries to catch his breath, clenching lazily around the length still inside him, eyes drooping as he relaxes into the mattress. He feels content as he breathes slowly, head buzzing, and doesn’t think about moving until Oikawa’s nudging at his neck, butting into his cheek. 

Iwa-chan, Oikawa says, getting more aggressive. Iwa-chan. 

Hajime hums in question. 

Was it good? Did I do good? Oikawa asks. Did you like it, Iwa-chan? 

“Yeah,” Hajime rasps, surprised at how hoarse he sounds. “Yeah, I did.” He pats Oikawa’s head and smirks. “Good puppy.” 

Oikawa growls in anger, and that makes Hajime laugh breathlessly. He cuts himself off when Oikawa retreats, pulling his tentacle out, letting go of his cock, and he winces at the sensation. Screws his face up in disgust at how sticky he feels, trying to decide how much longer he can bask until he has to get up and clean himself off for real. 

So mean, Iwa-chan, Oikawa whines. 

“You did great, Oikawa,” Hajime says, yawning as he stretches, making a face when he twinges. That’s going to be a pain in the ass — literally. “Can’t you like…” He gestures at himself, at the cooling come on his abs. “Is there a way to clean this up without me having to get up?” He doesn’t expect an actual answer, and starts looking around for something to wipe himself off with because he’s decided he isn’t going to be getting out of bed any time soon — in fact, a nap sounds really nice, right about now. 

Oikawa surprises him with a, Yes, and then there’s black gliding over his abs, his cock, silk-like, and then retreating, leaving behind a clean expanse of tan skin. 

Hajime stares, mouth agape. “What the fuck?” 

I absorbed your mess, Oikawa says proudly. I am taking care of you. 

Hajime blinks, still staring down at himself. “You really are, huh?” 

Oikawa snuggles closer, his head fitting into Hajime’s neck as Hajime starts pulling the sheets over himself. Yes, he says. 

“Hey,” Hajime mumbles, turning over onto his side. “Do alien symbiotes cuddle, and stuff?” 

Cuddle? Oikawa asks. 

Hajime sends a picture of people cuddling to Oikawa, and Oikawa oh’s in understanding. He says, I can do that, and then there are thick tendrils wrapping themselves around Hajime, slipping around his waist. Oikawa still rests in the gap between his neck and shoulder, and asks, Good? 

“Yeah,” Hajime sighs. Oikawa doesn’t generate heat, but he absorbs Hajime’s; it’s like having an incredibly clingy blanket. 

So I have proven worthy to be your partner, then? Oikawa asks, eager. 

“Sure,” Hajime says offhandedly, yawning wide, thinking nothing of it. “Works for me.” 

Oikawa laughs. Excellent. 

This action, Hajime will soon learn, has consequences.