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i'll be looking at the moon (but i'll be seeing you)

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Oikawa loves Iwaizumi near the full moon. He’s needier, handsier, just a touch unhinged. He lingers by Oikawa, hooking fingers into his belt loop and crowding him up against lockers to lean in and breathe in his scent. Iwaizumi always runs warm, but near the moon he’s like a furnace, the brush of his fingers a wildfire that lights up Oikawa’s entire nervous system. Oikawa doesn’t have to ask for attention or affection. Iwaizumi’s wolf is eager to give, and Oikawa is more than willing to take.

It’s nights like these, on the eve of the turn, that Oikawa loves most.

He’s grinding on Iwaizumi’s lap, drinking in the heat of him, while Iwaizumi’s fingers dig into his hips hard enough to bruise. He likes that too, the way Iwaizumi loses himself to pleasure and forgets to hold back.

Iwaizumi's mouthing at the dip of his collarbone, teeth glancing on just the right side of painful. Oikawa hums in pleasure at the thought of the bruises that will bloom there; marring him, marking him, claiming him.

His pants are off, forgotten on his bedroom floor, his shirt hiked up to his armpits as Iwaizumi maps the splay of his ribs with calloused fingers. A rough thumb catches his nipple just as Iwaizumi bites hard, and Oikawa can't help the whine that escapes him. He writhes down, Iwaizumi's hips thrusting up to meet his. The hot press of his erection through the rough fabric of Iwaizumi’s jeans makes Oikawa shiver with want and buck down, chasing the friction.

Iwaizumi pauses his ministrations long enough to get Oikawa's shirt up and off, and then his mouth is back, kissing the bob of Oikawa's adam's apple this time.

"We should, uh, lube," Iwaizumi stutters, and Oikawa snorts a laugh. Iwaizumi growls back, but there's no heat behind it, and Oikawa leans down to press a kiss to his nose.

"Yes, let's lube."

He shuffles away from Iwaizumi's warmth just long enough to dig through the nightstand drawer for the bottle. Iwaizumi's nose wrinkles.

"Not the cherry stuff," He says.

Oikawa raises a teasing eyebrow. "Oh? And why not?"

Iwaizumi doesn't blush or stammer or avert his eyes the way Oikawa hopes. Instead he holds Oikawa's gaze, eyes bright and intense, and oh that's good too. "I want to smell you."

"Picky," Oikawa tsks, even as his heart flutters in his chest. He makes a show of swapping out the bottles, leaning back and popping open the cap with a flourish.

Iwaizumi barely gives him a moment to preen before he's on him again, mouth on his neck and slick fingers teasing his entrance. He uses his free hand to grab Oikawa's hip and drag him where he wants him. Oikawa shudders at the feeling of being handled so easily, like he weighs nothing. It's not that Iwaizumi's stronger near the moon, but he forgets himself more, lets himself take what he wants. (It's oh so very fortunate for them both that Oikawa wants to be taken.)

A second finger slides in, spreads to scissor him open. Oikawa tilts his hips, chases the angle he knows works, and sighs when he finds it, the rough pads of Iwaizumi's fingers brushing his prostate.

Iwaizumi looks at him with a feral grin. "There?" He asks. He doesn't wait for an answer before twisting his fingers in again, curling them up and massaging against the spot until Oikawa is shaking.

"Bastard," Oikawa gasps out, even as the pleasure coils in his gut.

Iwaizumi smirks and nips at the thud of his heart in his throat. "That's not what your scent is telling me."

Oikawa bucks against him, smearing precum on Iwaizumi’s shirt with no small amount of self-satisfaction. "And what is my scent telling you?" He asks.

"That you want to get bred like a bitch in heat."

Oikawa freezes, body hot with the sudden influx of images Iwaizumi's words evoke. Iwaizumi shoving him down, pinning him, taking what he wants. (And he wants everything Oikawa has to give.)

For the first time all night, Iwaizumi hesitates. "Was that too far?" He asks. His fingers are still in Oikawa's ass.

“Get your fucking clothes off, Hajime,” Oikawa snarls.

Iwaizumi, for once in his life, doesn’t argue. He jumps off the bed, fumbling with the fly of his jeans, eager to obey. Like a good dog, Oikawa muses.

Oikawa finds the lube and slicks his fingers up while he watches his boyfriend strip. By the time Iwaizumi is naked, Oikawa’s is leaning back against the headboard, three fingers deep. He catches Iwaizumi’s eye, dark with hunger, and leans his head back with a heavy exhale, the long, bruised column of his neck on full display.

Iwaizumi growls. “Fuck, Oikawa.”

“That’s kind of the idea, yeah.”

Iwaizumi crowds up into him, not kissing, not touching, just breathing him in. “Smell good,” He groans, hands frozen in the air above him.

Oikawa smiles. “You can touch,” he says, and Iwaizumi does.

It feels like his hands are everyone at once, running up his thighs, his arms, tracing the bone of his wrist, before finally settling on his hips. He pulls him up and over his lap. It's a familiar position, warm and comfortable and particularly useful for grinding down against his very hot, very hard boyfriend.

Iwaizumi’s dick is thick and heavy beneath him, curving up to rub between the cleft of his ass. “God, I swear you're bigger,” Oikawa groans. Maybe it’s the moon, maybe it’s just the fact that this is the most turned on he's ever felt in his life.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi whines, pulling him down so he can rut messily against his ass. “I need-”


Beneath him, Iwaizumi goes rigid, fingers spasming on his hips. “What's wrong? What did I-”

“Nothing,” Oikawa says, silencing him with a kiss. “I just don't want to - like this.” He shifts his hips for emphasis, feels the way Iwaizumi's dick throbs in response.

Iwaizumi sucks in a sharp breath and stares up at him, eyes a sea of confusion and anxiety and overwhelming desire.

“I want to try something new,” Oikawa says. He lifts himself up and turns away, sinking down to his knees and elbows. He cranes his neck to look at Iwaizumi over his shoulder, catch the way his eyes dilate with arousal. “Mount me.”

Iwaizumi makes a choked noise. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I trust you.”

Iwaizumi hesitates, though Oikawa can see the way his body is thrumming with lust, with arousal, with need, so much so his body is practically vibrating with it. His hands twitch, and Oikawa knows he wants to touch. He’s so careful, even like this, even with the moon high in the sky and nearly full.

It makes Oikawa want it that much more.

Hajime,” He whispers. “Take me.”

Behind him, Iwaizumi groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and then he’s on Tooru, a scorching hot weight on his back, covering him, surrounding him, consuming him. And then he’s pushing in, and Tooru loses himself to the sensation.

The pace is fast and relentless right from the start. Iwaizumi’s hips thrust sharply, burying him to the hilt and oh it feels so deep this way, Iwaizumi’s hot chest against his back and Oikawa powerless beneath him.

Iwaizumi makes a sound that’s caught somewhere between human and beast, and Oikawa can’t help but cry out too, rutting himself shamelessly against the mattress while Iwaizumi fucks him, claims him, mates him.

Iwaizumi grips Oikawa’s hips tight, nails digging red crescents in just above the bones. He drags Oikawa back to meet his thrusts, handling him like he weighs nothing, and Oikawa lets out a whine. His elbows give out underneath him, leaving him with his chest pressed against the bed and his ass in the air.

It’s deeper this way, dirty and bestial. Oikawa can feel his eyes rolling up into his head as Iwaizumi drives into him.

“Ha-ah-jime,” He gasps out, Iwaizumi’s name an endless litany on his tongue.

“Mine,” Iwaizumi swears out for every cry of his name. He leans forward so he covers Oikawa completely, chest pressed against his back, arms caging in his sides.

Mine,” he growls again, punctuating with a hard thrust. His ball slap against Oikawa’s ass, and he stills, grinding in deep. Oikawa sobs, gasping out a breathless “yours” in response. He shudders and lays there, spread on Iwaizumi’s cock, wanting and waiting.

Fucking close to the full moon is always intense, but it’s never been like this, never so hot, so hard, so all-consuming. Iwaizumi pulls back, holds him there, stuck on the precipice, then slams back in at just the right angle.

Good,” Iwaizumi snarls into his neck, teeth grazing his pulse. “So good for me.”

Oikawa feels nearly boneless at the praise as He grasps helplessly at the sheets while Iwaizumi fucks him into the mattress. There will be bruises on his hips in the morning and he couldn’t care less. He’s close already, too lost to the pleasure to even be embarrassed by it.

“Yeah, gonna be good for you, Hajime,” He pants. “Fuck, love you like this, love you, want you to- fuck, yeah, there.”

Oikawa can’t help but imagine if it were a night later, if the moon were full, if Hajime was fucking him in his true form. “God, you’d be so good to me Hajime- mount me and breed me.”

Iwaizumi whines into his neck, canines teasing at the skin, and Oikawa wants.

Fuck, I’d let you-” He gasps out. They’re both close, he can tell. Iwaizumi’s thrusts are erratic now, filling him so deep he swears he can feel it in his stomach. “Yeah, c’mon, knot me.”

Iwaizumi cries out and bites down and then they’re both coming, Iwaizumi pinning Oikawa beneath him as he spills inside in thick spurts. Oikawa can’t even breathe, it’s so much, hot and deep and everything he’s been wanting. Iwaizumi keeps jerking against him, working them both through it.

Oikawa doesn’t realize he’s crying until Iwaizumi is flipping him over to kiss away the tears.

“So good,” He keeps whispering, an endless litany as he presses kissed over Oikawa’s eyelids, his cheeks, the curve of his nose. "So good, so good, Tooru."

Oikawa huffs out a smile. “Love you too,” he manages, fingers coming up to twine in Iwaizumi’s.

Iwaizumi places one last kiss to the top of his head before resting their foreheads together.

"What does my scent tell you now, wolf boy?" Oikawa croaks once the heaviness of the moment settles between them, becomes something sweet and easy.

Iwaizumi smiles and nips at his ear. "That you're a little shit."

Oikawa grins. "But I'm your little shit."

Iwaizumi wrap an arm around his waist to hold him, close and safe and warm. “Yeah, you are.”

Tomorrow is the full moon, but tonight is just them.