Iwaizumi had been watching him for awhile now.
It was usually Thursdays and Fridays that he would make his appearance. His blaring presence was almost too much for the dimly lit bar. Whenever he walked in-- hell, whenever he walked to the back to use the bathroom-- he cut through the lazy curls of smoke and bad orange lighting like he couldn't be bothered to be weighed down by the atmosphere. The smoke and shadows practically parted before him, accentuating his overly bright smile and grossly good posture like he was fucking Moses of the shanty bar scene.
Iwaizumi was in a small corner booth by himself, like he liked it. With the knot of his tie slid down, a whiskey in front of him, and a cigarette to his lips he could finally start to unwind from the grueling work week.
He brought his cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply, feeling the burn and sting rush down his throat and flood his lungs. He sighed the smoke out through his nose, peering through the shifting veil of gray at the obnoxious kid sitting at the bar.
Iwaizumi thought "kid", but in all truth they probably weren't too far off in age. There was just something about him... something that screamed "spoiled brat" or "obnoxious tool" that made Iwaizumi feel like he would need to treat him like a child.
Iwaizumi watched as he spoke to another man at the bar. A little older, handsome, well put together. The kid had tendency to squeeze his eyes together when he laughed, to touch shoulders and tip the liquid around his glass as others spoke.
His laugh was a semi-high trill, tumbling from his throat as pompous as that grin would have you believe. His voice rose and dipped, ranging from a childish whine to a smooth purr. When he smiled or made eyes at someone he was obviously gorgeous, but he also obviously knew it.
He was leaning over, whispering. Strong and cut shoulders moving beneath a crisp button down, lips shooing breath over the other man's ear. Then he smirked, pulled back, pushed his barstool with the back of his knees.
Iwaizumi's eyes fell from his shoulders, moved all the way down his body. He was fit and he held his body like he understood exactly how it worked. His legs were long and his height was nothing to scoff at. The way he tilted his chin gave one the impression he was used to looking down at people.
He was turning to use the bathroom, presumably before he went home with Suit Number Four. His milk chocolate eyes grazed over Iwaizumi as he turned, lightly pausing on Iwaizumi's face. Iwaizumi returned the look with the most uninterested blink possible.
The kid flicked his head slightly, a motion that became a subconscious habit to those with hair that fell in their eyes. The perfection of each tuft of hair made Iwaizumi want to reach out and pull on it. Just yank it hard enough for him to fall over.
Iwaizumi took a sip of his whiskey.
Sure, the guy was gorgeous-- Iwaizumi's eyes followed him without Iwaizumi really taking notice-- but Iwaizumi just didn't have the patience to deal with a self righteous prick, even for sex.
The kid returned, scooping up his coat and motioning to his businessman, and they left.
Iwaizumi watched him leave, huffing on his cigarette.
Even if he really wanted to see those shoulders, bare.
Iwaizumi didn't see him again for a week. He fell into his regular booth, bad red patent leather squeaking beneath him as stagnate smoke swirled into frustrated motion when he moved.
The soft yellow and orange lighting and dark wood of the bar helped Iwaizumi relax immediately. He vaguely wondered if he was going to stumble into alcoholism, but batted the thought away with a flick of his wrist and an inhale of his cigarette.
Iwaizumi was on his second whiskey before the Pompous King walked through the door. Iwaizumi tried not to glare over his glass as he watched him, his overly cheerful voice disrupting the calm atmosphere that Iwaizumi loved so much.
Today was black pleated pants, shining black shoes, long sleeved button down in some lilac-ish color, top two buttons undone. A slim black belt cinched his shirt into the waist of his pants, forcing Iwaizumi to notice the slim strength of his hips.
Iwaizumi almost rolled his eyes in spite himself. Come to think of it, he never recalled seeing the Pompous King in a suit coat, and very seldom a tie. Almost as if he was somehow too righteous even for a full suit.
Iwaizumi clicked his tongue and the noise echoes in his glass before he took a small sip.
He watched the man work the room. And by "work the room" he meant, "be approached by every gay man in the bar and maybe a few straight ones". He didn't have to labor for attention, it just naturally flooded to him.
He was beaming, smile so bright it cut through the dark and made Iwaizumi squint-- or was that just a cringe?
Iwaizumi wanted to grind that smile into the bed sheets; he wanted to watch Mr. Wonderful look up at him, beg him, wanted to watch shoulders and body lurch in submission to him--
Iwaizumi's heart skipped a few beats and then pounded into overtime.
Iwaizumi sighed at himself, running his hand through his hair and allowing his eyes to land on the other at the bar. He felt a heat rising. A heat and a desperate sense of want.
How long had it been?
Iwaizumi shook it away. He visibly shook his head and blew smoke exhaustedly from his mouth. Nope. He was not going to be another person to look up at him like he stood on a pedestal.
At some point Iwaizumi was stamping out his cigarette butt and withdrawing a new one. It hung limply in his mouth before Iwaizumi pinched his lips to make it jump to attention as he brought the flame to it. He closed his eyes on his first inhale, opening them again once the smoke had flooded the space in front of him.
He almost flinched when he saw the Tool staring at him from his spot on the bar. He was turned around, body leaning lithely against the bar and legs crossed in front of him. He smiled smoothly. Probably suavely.
Iwaizumi blank stared back at him, then shot more smoke in front of his face.
There was a flicker of something across the other's face. Irritation? Surprise? It was masked just enough that Iwaizumi couldn't quite make it out, but he was semi-pleased to crack that facade a little. He withheld the smile though, and turned his attention back to his whiskey. After a long moment he heard the high whine of the voice he knew to belong to Sir Gaudy, asking for another drink and making some bad humored joke.
A few long moments passed. Then there was a quiet voice, "Um... excuse me."
Iwaizumi shifted his gaze over and upward to see a man in a sports coat and glasses standing next to his table. He had a beer in each hand, lifting them slightly, "I was wondering if I could join you?"
Iwaizumi smiled, "Sure," he answered.
The man pushed a beer across the table at him. Iwaizumi typically didn't like beer. It tasted like piss water-- light on the piss but heavy on the water-- and bubbles. He took it anyway.
"I've seen you here a couple times," the man was saying, his gaze hitting Iwaizumi's eyes and then flitting away nervously.
"Ah," Iwaizumi said as he looked across the table to get a better sense of the newcomer. He had parted brown hair and glasses covering green eyes. He was extremely cute. His nervous smile and gentle voice were all very attractive to Iwaizumi. "Yeah. I come here after work semi often." Very often, but Iwaizumi didn't feel the need to draw attention to that fact.
"Oh," he said, fiddling with his beer on the table, "what do you do?"
"I'm an editorial lead at a publishing house," Iwaizumi answered, forcing away the images of work that flooded his mind. He was trying to forget the stress that he had left splayed across his desk.
"Wow, impressive," the man cooed, eyes large. "Oh, and I'm Yamashiro Yuki," he stuttered out. "I forgot to lead with my name..." Yamashiro's face took on a fresh blush.
Iwaizumi smiled, eyes warming naturally with the expression. He half chuckled as he responded, "That's fine. I'm Iwaizumi. Hajime." Yamashiro smiled modestly at him and Iwaizumi continued, "What do you do?"
Yamashiro almost jumped in his seat, "Ah, I'm a teacher."
Iwaizumi couldn't help but smile again. They got to talking, and conversation began to flow easily. He didn't know much about the high school he taught at, but he was apparently the advisor for that school's volleyball team and wow really I used to play volleyball, oh neat what position did you play-- and so on.
Then there was bumping of knees and soft rosy smiles and Iwaizumi was laughing and maybe just maybe he would be able to have a good time tonight.
Then there was a large presence casting a shadow over their table, and Iwaizumi's face twisted into irritation even before he realized who it was.
"Oh, is the mouse trying to catch a businessman?" The six foot Brat said, his smile unnervingly chipper in spite of his venomous words.
"Excuse you," Iwaizumi spat, looking up at him with more than mild contempt.
"Oh, I--" Yamashiro trailed off, then bounced his gaze back to Iwaizumi, "do you two... know each other?"
"No," Iwaizumi answered stiffly as the other responded with an easy, "Yes."
Iwaizumi shot him a glance that would have melted a less offensive soul. Instead he just grinned, eyes pinching shut. Then he leaned over and said to Yamashiro, "Would you mind giving us a few moments?" His smile was happy but his eyes were threatening.
"Ah-- sure," Yamashiro answered, already moving to slip from the booth.
"No, don't listen to this jackass," Iwaizumi said.
"It's okay," Yamashiro responded with a careful smile, "I have to use the restroom anyway."
Iwaizumi sighed as the Pompous King sat heavily across from him, eyes bright and shining with pride after having just bullied a perfectly nice guy.
"I see you in here a lot," he began as Iwaizumi glared at him. "You're pretty much the only one who's never approached me," he laughed. It was a bubbling self absorbed laugh.
Then he pushed a glass across the table, the brown liquid trembling before coming to a stop in front of Iwaizumi, "And you always order this."
Iwaizumi raised it to his nose, inhaling the heavy scent. He took a sip, felt the familiar heat slip around his mouth.
"I'm Oikawa Tooru," he announced as if Iwaizumi had wanted to ask.
Iwaizumi stared at him while he tapped another cigarette out of its carton, lighting it and blowing smoke between them without a word.
"And you are?" Oikawa finally asked, entirely ignoring the irritation that was plain on Iwaizumi's face.
"Iwaizumi," he answered, figuring it wouldn't do much good to withhold it.
"Iwaizumi..." Oikawa trailed off, bobbing his head as he waited for the rest.
Iwaizumi took a sip of his free whiskey and glared over the top of the glass. "Hajime," he finally growled after blinking away from Oikawa's incessant grin.
"Ah, Hajime," Oikawa said, moving the name along his tongue. Iwaizumi winced at the casual usage, but Oikawa went on, "Iwaizumi is a very pretty name,"
"But it doesn't quite roll off the tongue like I would like. Iwai... Iwa... hm. But Hajime, Hajime is pretty and it just kind of purrs out of your mouth doesn't it? Makes me want to say it--"
"Don't," Iwaizumi interrupted.
Oikawa smiled brightly, "Let me tell you something... Iwaizumi." His voice and his eyes lowered, and Oikawa gazed at him from under his unnecessarily long lashes.
Iwaizumi took a long drag on his cigarette as he stared at the milk chocolate of the other's eyes.
"I'm going to be the one you take home tonight."
Iwaizumi's lungs started to burn because he was frozen in place. Had he heard him correctly? Oikawa's eyebrow twitched upward almost imperceptibly, his smile devious.
Finally Iwaizumi's eyes started to water and he released the smoke in a desperate huff. Oikawa watched him without so much as a blink; his smirk was carved into his face like fact, and the shine in his eyes was of someone who never even thought he was capable of losing.
Iwaizumi leveled his gaze with him, "I'm not really into the Gaudy and Pompous types, sorry." He watched the other's eyes, but he didn't falter. If anything his grin just split a little more amused and venomous.
"Oh, like Mouse Sensei you were talking to? Someone who could melt into the carpet and no one would even notice?"
Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes, "You have a really shitty personality, you know that?"
Oikawa leaned in even further and his voice dropped so low that the vibrations of his purr resonated against Iwaizumi's skin, "Well then I must be really good at something, right?"
Oikawa bumped his leg against Iwaizumi's and held it there, the heat of his body working through fabric and the slight but constant pressure an aggressive sort of reminder.
Iwaizumi leaned in as well, voice gruff, "What makes you think I give any sort of fuck what you want Oikawa?"
Oikawa's smile tipped out of balance at hearing his name, "I notice you staring at me all the time, Iwaizumi."
"Glaring and staring are little different, and it's because you're a gaudy prick, as I've established," Iwaizumi felt a fire mounting in his blood, and his heart was pumping just a little bit faster than he would have liked.
Oikawa tipped his head, his hair bouncing slightly at the motion and making Iwaizumi want to yank on it again. This time his voice was a low whisper and a taunting smile, "Is it?"
Iwaizumi's heart clenched in his chest. A smirk tugged aggressively at the side of his mouth. Fine, he would play along.
He told himself he really meant "play", and wasn't actually interested in Oikawa. He told himself that even while his eyes scraped across lips and cheekbones and his heart picked up pace without his permission.
Iwaizumi relaxed the tension in his shoulders and dropped his voice to a low growl, closing even more of the gap between them so his breath would puff against Oikawa's face, "Please, Oikawa," he narrowed his eyes and continued condescendingly, mouth accentuating each word in his following sentence, "you couldn't handle me."
Oikawa's eyes twitched wide for less than a second, his knee pressed in hard against Iwaizumi's thigh, "I may be gorgeous, but I'm not a doll." Oikawa's eyes slid all over Iwaizumi's face, paused at his mouth before dragging back up to his eyes. Amusement never left his lips.
Iwaizumi gave him a dubious look, eyes unbelieving, "I would break you Oikawa," he continued in a growl, "I wouldn't stop until that King Shit facade you plaster on your face was shattered into a million pieces." Iwaizumi leaned in so his lips were only centimeters from Oikawa's, his voice so low it was almost a hum, "I would make you get off your high horse and beg."
Oikawa's breath huffed out of his mouth, and when he pulled back slightly Iwaizumi could see his face was flushed, but his eyes were focused. Then he whispered, "Maybe I want to be broken."
Iwaizumi's pulse stuttered out of time.
Iwaizumi watched Oikawa lick his lips. Then he spoke again, voice like velvet, eyes like daggers, "It would at least be nice to watch you try."
Iwaizumi's heart had already thrashed into his throat before Oikawa yanked his tie toward him and forced their lips together.
Oikawa's lips opened immediately, and Iwaizumi followed him without hesitation. Their tongues slid together lithely, then moved into motions more hurried, more aggressive. Iwaizumi unthinkingly put his hand in Oikawa's hair, tugging at the locks as Oikawa hummed against his mouth. Then he released Iwaizumi's tie, pulled back and said, "I'll get my coat."
Iwaizumi stood and Oikawa was in stride next to him in moments. Iwaizumi purposefully ignored the very heavy stares of what felt like everyone around him. Oikawa was almost skipping, like he feasted on the attention.
Then they were in a cab, and Oikawa apparently didn't care about outward impressions because he was all over Iwaizumi in a heartbeat. Hands running over thighs and tongue in mouth and teeth on lips. Iwaizumi cared for approximately sixty seconds before his lower half won out and he was kissing Oikawa back. His hands were everywhere, all over broad shoulders and a thin waist and how thick were his thighs? Then he was tugging Oikawa's hair again, yanking his head lightly to the side so he could detach their lips and sink his teeth into Oikawa's neck.
Oikawa moaned, his hips jumping upward, and Iwaizumi silently begged the cabbie for forgiveness even as his tongue moved over Oikawa's skin and he sucked on the fair flesh of his neck.
They tumbled out of the cab and into Iwaizumi's building, Iwaizumi immediately shoving Oikawa against the elevator wall.
"Mm," Oikawa almost laughed, "I didn't expect you to be this aggressive."
"I told you," Iwaizumi said hoarsely, his voice unnaturally gravelly as he kissed the small portion of exposed chest and collar bone revealed by Oikawa's button-down.
When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Iwaizumi moved away from Oikawa as if he hadn't just been digging his fingers into his hips. Oikawa followed, a few steps behind at first due to the sudden abandonment.
When Iwaizumi reached his door he fumbled through his keys, desperate to find the correct one as soon as possible and being unable to do so for that very reason.
Oikawa was already hanging on him, his extra height making it very easy to bite and suck at the back of Iwaizumi's neck.
Iwaizumi was trying to shove him off, but Oikawa was like a sack of self aware potatoes, complete dead weight that managed to swing away from him every time he reached for him.
Oikawa then bit at his ear and Iwaizumi heard the light moan before realizing it was him. There was an incessant rustling off to their right and then a sudden cease of movement. They both paused to look and saw Iwaizumi's female neighbor standing there with a grocery bag looking like a deer in the headlights. Iwaizumi's face burned red as Oikawa smiled brilliantly, "Good Evening!" he cheered.
Iwaizumi was finally able to find his key and shove the door open before he boiled over with embarrassment.
"One more neighbor who knows I'm gay," Iwaizumi said as he closed the door and slipped off his shoes.
Oikawa flipped his off efficiently and glanced around the apartment, "If you weren't being loud enough that they didn't know already, then you weren't doing it right."
Iwaizumi took a step forward and looked up at Oikawa, who was still scanning the apartment.
"This is so clean Iwa-chan," he commented blithely.
Iwaizumi looked around. It was orderly, but not especially clean. Perhaps Oikawa was just a slob. Iwaizumi pushed him toward the bedroom door, "Go," he ordered unapologetically.
Oikawa's eyes glittered as he grinned down at Iwaizumi, "Straight to business, how exciting."
Iwaizumi was already not liking the height difference. The pompous attitude paired with Oikawa actually having to look down on him was too much at once. Iwaizumi pushed him onto the bed.
Oikawa's smile could not be stopped. He fell to the bed happily, watching Iwaizumi with much anticipation. Iwaizumi knew Oikawa could have stayed upright had he wanted to. His body was sturdy.
Iwaizumi pulled the knot of his tie down lower and then pulled the loop over his head before kneeling onto the bed on all fours, hovering over Oikawa.
Iwaizumi felt himself start to flush because he wasn't exactly sure how he wanted to proceed, but it turned out he didn't have to. Oikawa grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down into another kiss, tongues working heavily.
Iwaizumi lowered his hips, pressing them down against Oikawa's and grinding his length on Oikawa's through clothes. Oikawa returned the motion and soft moans vibrated out across Iwaizumi's lips. Then he felt hands working at the buttons of his shirt, deftly flipping them open without the smallest pause in mouth or hips. When his shirt was fully open Oikawa ran his hands along Iwaizumi's pecs and shoulders and then pulled away.
Iwaizumi pulled back slightly, "What's wrong?"
Oikawa's eyes were devouring Iwaizumi's chest, running along his muscles and dropping down his stomach to the edge of his pants, "I had no idea you were so... athletic." He sounded hungry.
Iwaizumi's mouth slid into a lopsided smile unthinkingly. Since he was already detached, he straightened his back and slid off his shirt, then tugged mercilessly at Oikawa's belt to get it open.
Oikawa still looked like a kid at an amusement park.
"Have you ever bottomed?" Iwaizumi suddenly asked, staring down at him with a staunch expression.
Oikawa's lips fell out of their smile for a moment, moved around in thought, "Yes. I just usually don't enjoy it much."
Iwaizumi yanked the belt out from Oikawa's pants, the leather hissing against the cloth before it snapped free. He dropped down so that his lips were brushing Oikawa's ear and said, "I'll make you enjoy it."
Iwaizumi returned to his knees in time to watch Oikawa visibly shiver.
"Take off your shirt," Iwaizumi commanded. Oikawa worked his own buttons hurriedly while Iwaizumi undid his pants, grinding his palm against Oikawa's length once it was in view.
Oikawa let his shirt fall open, and Iwaizumi had to hold back a sigh. Of course his abs were rippling and cut and perfect, and of course his hip bones were angled perfection under smooth skin. Oikawa's cocky sneer let Iwaizumi know that once again, Oikawa was fully aware of his beauty.
When Iwaizumi looked down, he realized Oikawa's boxers were the same color as his shirt. He shook his head as he aggressively ripped Oikawa's pants off.
Once they were both in nothing but boxers, Iwaizumi grabbed one of Oikawa's hips with both hands and flipped him onto his stomach. Oikawa chirped in surprise but didn't fight it. Iwaizumi crawled back over him and then bit his neck, loving the sound of Oikawa gasping against the mattress. Iwaizumi's hand slid under the weight of Oikawa's muscle sewn body and found his length, slowly stroking against it while he sucked on Oikawa's neck. Oikawa's hips lifted and he moaned, hands fluttering out to run down Iwaizumi's hips and thighs. Iwaizumi ground his length against Oikawa's ass, fitting it just between his pert and rounded cheeks.
Iwaizumi left him suddenly, moving his hands to each of Oikawa's hips and dragging him across the mattress until his lower half was hanging over the edge of the bed. Oikawa almost squawked in surprise, but once again he didn't bother to put up a fight.
Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa's boxers over his ass and down to his thighs, then sighed. He knew his goal was to conquer this Gaudy King, but Iwaizumi was filled with need just looking at him. This would be a true challenge of self control.
Oikawa turned slightly to look at him with big innocent eyes, his gracefully curving spine and hardened muscles moved tauntingly beneath skin. He blinked owlishly at Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi felt the overwhelming need to punch Oikawa in the nose just for being so fucking beautiful.
Instead he contented himself with biting Oikawa's ass, smiling against his skin when his hips jumped and he chirped in happy surprise.
"Iwa-chan, you're not going to--"
Iwaizumi cut him off by spreading his cheeks and running his tongue wide across his entrance.
"Ah!" Oikawa in haled sharply, curling his fists into the comforter. Iwaizumi tried again, then circled it lightly, kneading Oikawa's dense thighs as he did so.
Iwaizumi could see Oikawa's breathing start coming faster as his shoulders rose and fell. Iwaizumi repeated this pattern a few times, a few slow drags of his tongue, a few laps and swirls around his entrance. He did this until Oikawa's breath started to normalize again. Then in the middle of encircling his entrance Iwaizumi shoved his tongue in, hard.
Oikawa's yelp drug into a moan and his hips quivered. Iwaizumi moved his hands from Oikawa's thighs to his hips for better control and shoved his tongue back in. It was tight; he had to use a lot of force. But watching the tension crawl up Oikawa's spine, watching him clutch into the blankets and shiver out half moans was more than worth it.
He thrust in and out, using his hold on Oikawa's hips to help him sink deeper. Oikawa began moaning with every thrust of his tongue, his hips began shivering beneath his touch.
Then Iwaizumi withdrew completely, and Oikawa's response was something between a sigh of relaxation and whimpering dissatisfaction.
Iwaizumi went back to his pattern. Every now and then he would forcefully flick the center of his entrance and Oikawa's hips would hiccup with anticipation, but Iwaizumi wouldn't give it to him.
"Iwa-chan," Oikawa pleaded in a small voice.
Nope, not yet.
Iwaizumi began sucking at the hole, and the animal noise that left Oikawa's throat made Iwaizumi's cock twitch.
Finally Iwaizumi slid his tongue back in and Oikawa let go of a long drawn out moan, the final notes warping until they formed a husky, "Yes." Oikawa's hips pressed against Iwaizumi's face, demanding more. Soon Oikawa was a quivering mess, his body rattling and fists groping uselessly at the sheets. His shoulders drew together tight, and Iwaizumi knew exactly what he wanted, what he needed.
"Iwa-chan," he said again, turning his head so he wasn't talking into the mattress, "Please."
Iwaizumi withdrew his tongue and Oikawa hissed again, squinting against the bed. Iwaizumi leaned up next to him and held out a finger. Oikawa stared at it, and Iwaizumi stared back at him. Finally the realization hit Oikawa square in the face, and his mouth opened.
Iwaizumi put his finger in his mouth, trying not to think about how good those lips would look wrapped around his cock.
He took his finger back, "I know what you need, Oikawa," he said. He offered him his middle finger now as well, dragging out the process. Oikawa sloppily took it into his mouth, and Iwaizumi hoped he was able to hide the smirk pulling at his lips.
Then he brought his hand down to Oikawa's entrance, gently pushing at it. He rubbed the skin right below, right above, teased it with a short stroke. He set a quick rhythm against him, watched his hips wriggle beneath him. He pushed longer and harder, edging closer but never entering. He could hear Oikawa's nails against the fabric on his bed.
Oikawa turned his face away from Iwaizumi as he toyed with him. Small whimpers could still be heard in Oikawa's throat. He bit his lip so hard it looked like it might bleed.
"Look at me," Iwaizumi said softly.
Oikawa didn't move.
"Look at me or I won't give it to you."
Slowly, in stuttering movements, Oikawa turned his head to look at Iwaizumi. His expression looked almost afraid. His cheeks were bright red and his eyes were black, unfocused and glassy.
"Good," Iwaizumi said, and that was all the warning he gave before he slid into Oikawa.
If the neighbors didn't know before, they knew now.
The moan was loud but still guttural-- low and animal and rough in a way that felt like it moved against Iwaizumi's bones.
Oikawa lifted his hips into it, pushed against it. Even when his face winced in pain he gasped like he needed every centimeter of Iwaizumi's fingers inside him.
He was so tight. He was terrifyingly tight and excessively hot and Iwaizumi bit his lip against the groan that was rising in his chest from just thinking about sliding his cock inside Oikawa.
Every thrust brought a rasped moan from Oikawa's throat. His chest heaved and he cried out and he demanded more. Iwaizumi curled his fingers against Oikawa's prostate, watched his face crack as he almost screamed against the mattress.
"Iwaizumi," his voice shook out, "I need--"
"I always know what you need," Iwaizumi responded tersely, "I just decide when you can have it."
Oikawa whimpered against the pillow.
Then Iwaizumi was inserting another finger. Oikawa's back twitched, and Iwaizumi felt him readjusting around him. This was for his own good. Iwaizumi was... girthy.
Iwaizumi didn't linger long, however. He withdrew from Oikawa, watched his body rattle with emptiness. Iwaizumi slapped his ass lightly, "All fours on the bed."
Oikawa obeyed without hesitation as Iwaizumi walked to the other side of the bed to grab lube and a condom. As he was opening his dresser drawer Oikawa leaned forward, shoving Iwaizumi's boxers down and closing his mouth around Iwaizumi's cock.
Iwaizumi almost shouted in surprise, and actually did drop the bottle of lube on the bed. Oikawa's head bobbed fluidly, his big eyes blinking up at Iwaizumi with innocence that almost looked genuine.
Iwaizumi planned on pulling away immediately, but the warmth of Oikawa's mouth and his lips pink with friction made it really difficult to disengage. Iwaizumi felt himself stroke through feather-soft hair, heard himself groan happily. Then he snapped out of it, pulled away and left Oikawa with a string of precum clinging to his chin.
He picked Oikawa's belt up off the floor and slid it around Oikawa's wrists, binding them. Oikawa's eyes grew wide, but he didn't look legitimately fearful.
Iwaizumi put on the condom and got himself slick with lube, lining up their hips once he settled back behind him.
He could already see Oikawa's shoulders heaving in anticipation, and his heart was definitely audible in his own ears.
Iwaizumi blinked, then slid in without delay.
He was embarrassed by the sounds that left his chest, but less so when they formed a chorus with Oikawa's desperate gasp. Once in he paused, allowed Oikawa to adjust around him. Once Oikawa's back muscles stopped spasming he started with slow, shallow thrusts. Oikawa growled against the mattress, a sound he wouldn't have guessed Oikawa could even make. Then he started to go deeper, a little more every few thrusts and little whine from Oikawa with each new depth.
"God," Oikawa exhaled the word, "don't stop. Fuck. Fuck."
Iwaizumi reached around Oikawa and slipped his hand around the other's length.
"Ah!" Oikawa exclaimed, "Iwa-chan--" he breathed the phrase like it was something he was used to saying. He pushed his hips back against Iwaizumi in encouragement. "Deeper," his plea sitting at odds with the gruffness of his voice.
For the first time tonight Iwaizumi obeyed without hesitation. He started doing full thrusts, timing them with Oikawa's breathing. Then Oikawa started to make small noises, tiny little yeses and a lot of ahs until Iwaizumi was almost certain he knew what was coming. He watched tension mount in Oikawa's shoulders, heard his breath catching as he shoved his hips against Iwaizumi with even more force.
"Ah, Iwa-chan. I--"
And then Iwaizumi clamped down on the base of Oikawa's cock and fully withdrew from inside him.
Oikawa's inhale was almost a screech, his exhale almost a growl. Iwaizumi shoved him down against the mattress and then flipped him over. Oikawa's face was quivering, his eyes flashing with something close to rage. His bound hands immediately flew down to touch himself and Iwaizumi smacked them away, replacing his grip on the base of Oikawa's length.
Oikawa started squirming and quivering with discomfort. His hips were gyrating, desperate to fill the sudden emptiness. His toes curled and his legs twisted out across the mattress. Iwaizumi shoved his legs apart with his other hand.
"Iwa-chan," Oikawa whined.
Iwaizumi licked over his entrance, eyes watching his face twist. He was so hard it hurt, but he couldn't let Oikawa see that. Oikawa was shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. Iwaizumi could practically see his skin crawling.
Iwaizumi shoved his tongue inside Oikawa.
Oikawa moaned, hips bucking. It was insertion but it just wasn't enough.
Iwaizumi was glad his mouth was too occupied to smile.
"Jesus Christ," Oikawa gasped, his voice almost breaking as he shoved himself down hard on Iwaizumi's tongue. "Please Iwa-chan!"
"Please what?" Iwaizumi asked before he shoved his tongue back in the other.
Oikawa looked down at him, eyes glassy, lips shaking. "Please," he whispered.
Iwaizumi quickly slipped in a finger, watched Oikawa's hips buck uncontrollably, then removed it. "Please what?"
"Please," he said, his voice low, face shattered with need. His words shook as they came out of his mouth, "please fuck me."
Iwaizumi was hovering above him in an instant. He looked down on Oikawa, eyes blown black with pleasure, lips red and trembling. Iwaizumi smirked.
He thrust into Oikawa fully, quickly, and watched Oikawa's expression crumble around pain and pleasure. The noise that left him couldn't be classified. It was a noise of animals, not humans.
Iwaizumi didn't take it slow this time. He couldn't. His cock ached so fully that there was no way he could hold back any longer. He slid in and out of Oikawa with long, forceful thrusts. He watched Oikawa's face twist around gasps and moans and "Iwa-chan".
Iwaizumi felt himself grunting, felt his voice leaving himself longer and lower with each passing moment. He couldn't control it. Putting all his weight on one forearm, he reached down and stroked Oikawa with the other.
Oikawa's eyes shot open, all pupil, and then rolled back in his head as he lifted himself into Iwaizumi's touch. There were the hiccupping breaths again, the quick succession of "yes" and then he felt it, watched Oikawa's head loll back as he called out "Iwa-chan" and came hot over his hand and across their chests. He pulsated around Iwaizumi's length, and Iwaizumi lost himself. His hips sprung into erratic thrusts as he came and he groaned loudly against Oikawa's hair.
They collapsed on the bed together, silent and breathless for a long moment. Eventually Oikawa curled up on Iwaizumi's chest, smiling.
Iwaizumi looked down at him, finally clearing his throat enough to speak, "You know this was a one time thing, right?"
Oikawa glanced up at him like he had just asked the color of the sky, "What do I look like, an idiot?"
Iwaizumi blinked, "... well... yeah."
Oikawa slapped his chest, chuckling, "You're so mean, Iwa-chan."
Iwaizumi smiled and ran his fingers through Oikawa's hair. Then, he slept.