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grand designs, revisited

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“The team’s having a competition to see who can break the bed first,” says Iwa-chan, on the other end of the phone. He is somewhere bustling, although that could just be Shouyou and Tobio-chan’s squalling argument, which really puts no doubt in Tooru’s mind about whose fault this competition is. Xavier is staring at him rather intently. Xavier has been rarking the other members of the team up about his mind being ‘still young and elastic-y enough’ to learn other languages, and by other languages he means Japanese, because he wants to catch Tooru and Iwa-chan being sappy or whatever because nineteen year-old liberos don’t have anything better to do.


“That’s nice,” Tooru says, putting a thumb and forefinger either side of Xavier’s nose and pinching. Xavier thrashes at the end of his grip while Tooru smiles serenely. “I like camellias too.”


“Hey, asshole, are you even listening?” Iwa-chan says, predictably petulant. Tooru smiles serenely. “Competition. Breaking the beds. You know, the anti-sex ones.”


“I agree, Iwa-chan, you should get the hazelnut pralines, you’re going to need every advantage to beat my team and deliberating disobeying my nutritionist is one of them.” Xavier slaps his hands away and skulks to the relative safety of Ari’s shadow, out of earshot of Tooru and his phone-call.


“Shittykawa!” Iwa-chan hisses directly into the receiver, which conjures an image of him hunched in a corner, whispering urgently into his phone. “Where the hell am I even going to get chocolates and flowers in the Olympic Village? We don’t have time for that anyway, did you miss the part about-”


“Breaking the beds, I know, Iwa-chan. There was a fly on the wall, that’s all.”


“Stupid. You could have told me that.”


“My my, someone woke up on the wrong side of the anti-sex bed this morning.”


“What do you expect? I woke up in the same country as my boyfriend for the first time in eight months and I had to do it alone.” Tooru’s eyes well with unexpected tears and his lower lip wobbles a bit as he swallows the lump in his throat. After all these years, Iwa-chan always gets him when he leasts expects it. He huffs an exasperated sigh into his cell phone, soothed by the warm chuckle his soon-to-be-fiance emits in return. He has told Iwa-chan multiple times that when he wins gold, he wants a matching accessory, and Iwa-chan knows well enough he’s not talking about his earring.


“Well, never fear Iwa-chan, I’m not too far away. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”


“Oh yeah? You don’t mean-”


“Don’t make the cum joke, honey, you don’t have the brain-cells to make it land.” Iwa-chan grunts. Tooru smiles. “My place or yours?”


“Yours. Miya and Ojiro have been eyeing me for this entire phone call and it’s starting to weird me out.”


“Mhm. Text me. On my way.” Tooru makes kissy faces into the receiver until Iwa-chan laughs and hangs up. Then, he pockets his phone and sidles up alongside Hugo, hooking his chin over his shoulder and batting his lashes at him. “I’m going to need you to avoid the room for the next few hours, okay?”


“Fuck, Toto,” Hugo screws up his face in faux-horror. “You’ve been here less than an hour and you’re already sexiling me?”


“I haven’t touched my boyfriend in eight months. You really don’t want to know what kind of person that turns me into.” Hugo nods, gravely, and holds up a fist in understanding. Tooru thumps their knuckles together, grateful that he has such kind and sympathetic teammates. If this were Seijoh, Mattsun would already be making jokes about watching and Kyouken would be turning famous shades of green in envy at the thought of Iwa-chan holding Oikawa face-down ass-up and pounding him within an inch of his life. He kind of misses those guys sometimes, although not enough to answer Makki’s texts when the more pressing issue of a horny Iwa-chan awaits.


“You frighten me sometimes,” Hugo says, clearly sensing a change in Tooru’s usually charismatic aura. Tooru flashes him a cheeky smile, all teeth and twinkling eyes.






Iwa-chan hits him with the approximate force of the Chicxulub Incident. Which is to say, he backs Tooru into the wall of his dorm room and presses him against it like he’s trying to crush his ribs. Tooru puts his hands in his hair and his tongue in his mouth and grinds onto his thigh like he’s trying to catch up, which he is, because Iwa-chan has been hard ever since Tooru kissed him hello behind a perfectly normal vending machine. And yes, maybe Tooru had nipped at his lips a little and also let Iwa-chan fondle his ass in public, but who can blame him? Iwa-chan looks like that and Tooru has only had phone sex to sustain him for eight months! That must be some kind of violation of his human rights.


“So,” he mumbles around Iwa-chan sucking messy kisses against his neck, hands wrestling off his track jacket and shoving his shirt up so Iwa-chan can press rough thumb-pads against his nipples. “What are the rules of the competition?”


“Gotta be at least two people, can’t be fully clothed. That’s pretty much it. Kageyama and Hinata just started swinging at each other after that.” Tooru hums, because that sounds about right, before he hooks his hands into Iwa-chan’s sweatpants and shoves them right down to palm him through his briefs. Iwa-chan makes a guttural noise and humps into his hand as Tooru wrestles himself away from the wall.


“Here,” Tooru says breathlessly, backing his ass up against Iwa-chan’s groin and bending almost completely in half.


“What are you doing?” Iwa-chan asks, but it doesn’t stop him from yanking Tooru’s pants down and rubbing his dick over Tooru’s ass. Iwa-chan is somewhat obsessed with his butt, Tooru knows. This is only natural, given that Tooru’s ass is great, not particularly huge like Bokuto’s, but perky and full enough that Iwa-chan has perfect handfuls to grab as he grinds against him, watching Tooru flip the cover on the bed to squint at the so-called legs.


“Research,” Tooru says, casting a cheeky grin over his shoulder at Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan bends over him and presses sloppy kisses down the length of his spine, making him shudder. “Why work hard when we can work smart? I don’t want to tire out my poor Iwa-chan when I have so many orgasms that I’m owed.”


“That you’re owed?! You edged me for eight hours!”


“And you loved every hour of it.” Iwa-chan huffs and scrapes his teeth over a vertebrae, but the lack of verbal answer means Tooru’s won, which is exactly how they both like it. Iwa-chan is content to rut against his ass, wrestling Tooru’s briefs down so that he can grab at bare skin while Tooru grabs at the cardboard frame and twists his neck at an unnatural angle to inspect the structural design of his enemy.


“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Iwa-chan groans as his hands slide down Tooru’s sides, settling in the dip of his waist and pressing his thumbs into the small of his back. Tooru hums, straightening up and hooking his arms behind him, clasping his hands at the nape of Iwa-chan’s neck and pulling him in as he turns his head for a hungry kiss. It’s wet and imperfect, just the way he likes it, Iwa-chan still rocking against him, fingers spreading over Tooru’s bare stomach and scratching through his happy-trail. “Missed you.”


“Missed you too. You’re about to miss me more though, I know how we’re going to win.”




“Yeah. Take your pants off and maybe I’ll tell you.”


“You’re gonna tell me anyway,” Iwa-chan says, sure of himself. Tooru grins, because he is, and Iwa-chan grins back, kicking off his clothes until they’re both standing fully nude in front of each other.


For a moment, Tooru drinks him in, steps closer to smooth his hands over his shoulders and press them chest to chest, delighting in the feel of bare flesh against his own. It’s been too long since he’s had Iwa-chan this near to him, so he nuzzles into the spot behind his ear that’s always been his favourite place to hide, doesn’t bother to swallow a sigh of delight as Iwa-chan trails his fingers up the backs of sensitive thighs and mouths at the hinge of his jaw.


“I love you,” Iwa-chan tells him, because being like this always makes him sappy. Tooru hums, tilts his face and steals another kiss; this one sweeter and slower than before. Iwa-chan indulges him, strokes his thumbs over his spine with his arms hooked around Tooru’s waist.


“It’s designed to withstand pressure, because obviously no one wants an injury, but it looks like it’s built to collapse based on the direction of the movement. Forward instead of side to side or straight up and down on top of it.”




“So we hit it from the end of the bed and you need to grind on me like your life depends on it.”


“You didn’t even ask what the prize was.”


“It’s either money you don’t want to lose, or you’re really horny.”


“Both,” Iwa-chan says, without a hint of teasing. “I hate to break it to you though, they’re supposed to be able to support 200 kilos. Even together, we don’t weight that much.”


“Simple physics, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, wriggling in closer to grind his very hard cock against his boyfriend’s very sexy hip. “We don’t need to weigh 200 kilos, we just need to drop with enough force to make up for it.”


“You’re so fucking smart,” Iwa-chan says with a giant grin, kissing Tooru soundly as he cups his ass and squeezes. Tooru hooks his arms over his shoulders and fluffs up his boyfriend’s hair, letting him get it out of his system until he starts to restlessly rock against him again. Iwa-chan hums sympathetically and lends him a thigh to hump. It is very appreciated. “Hey what was it you always used to say again?”


“Iwa-chan, noooo,” Tooru whines. Iwa-chan grins against his mouth.


“If you’re gonna hit it, hit it till it breaks.” Tooru huffs in annoyance as Iwa-chan laughs, hands sliding up to cup Tooru’s tits and press kisses to the swell of each one. “Yeah, I so had this in the bag.”


“Shut up and get in position,” Tooru tells him, smacking his ass. Iwa-chan grins, and kisses him again, letting Tooru back him up toward the foot of the bed, and then a few inches off of it. Iwa-chan squeezes his ass in his hands, grinds them together at the groin until Tooru is making desperate little ah-ah-ah’s into his mouth. Iwa-chan doesn’t sound much better, groaning deep and throaty like he always does when he’s getting into it.


“So we just-” Iwa-chan’s whole body jumps as Tooru gets a hand around him and pumps him as fast and sloppy as he can. “We just fucking- fall?”


“Yes and no,” Tooru pants into his mouth, rubbing his thumb cruelly over Iwa-chan’s sensitive tip as his boyfriend grips his ass so hard he’s sure he’s going to have finger-print bruises there for the next few days. “You’re gonna need to hit me a little for maximum force. It can’t be a flop, we have to really hit it.”


“I’ve been wanting to bodyslam you for years,” Iwa-chan tells him, earnestly.


“Mm, Iwa-chan should have played rugby,” Tooru smears the leftover precum sticking to his hand against Iwa-chan’s abdomen, creating a wet patch that’s perfect to rub his own dick through as Iwa-chan watches in fascination. “I’d love to see you running around in itty-bitty little shorts.”


“I wear itty-bitty little shorts in volleyball.”


“Not enough,” Tooru complains, and Iwa-chan laughs, cups his face with his hands and kisses him hard. Tooru’s back bends with the force of it, and he wraps his arms around Iwa-chan to dig his fingers into the divots of his back muscles for purchase. Iwa-chan finally lets up and strokes his thumbs over Tooru’s cheeks, making very serious eye contact with him.


“You sure you want to do this?”


“Iwa-chan, I want as many bragging rights over the entire Japan National Team as possible. We are breaking that bed.”


“I love you so much.”


“I love you too.” Tooru kisses him again, and then gently disentangles them, holding his arms out at the ready. “Take me somewhere nice when you win that prize pool, okay?”


“I know this really great place. It’s called the Olympic Village, heard of it?”


“Sounds delightful,” Tooru says, grinning bright. Iwa-chan mirrors the look, and then he launches himself at him with a purpose.


Tooru can’t help but laugh as Iwa-chan’s body collides with his own. He lets himself go limp, lets their momentum knock him back and directly into the mattress’ centre as Iwa-chan lands on top of him and rocks his hips forward hard, a little too hard to be pleasurable, but Tooru’s always liked a little pain, and the pressure of another body on top of him feels like fucking heaven after so long apart from him. The bed sways with them, slams into the wall, and promptly caves in.


The mattress dips then lurches as Tooru lets out a delighted shriek, Iwa-chan howls with laughter and wraps his arms protectively over Tooru’s head and shoulders as they tumble sideways and onto the floor with a heavy thud, comforter half-trapped under Iwa-chan’s back. The perfect gentleman’s gone and broken his fall, Tooru’s head nestled against his chest, Iwa-chan shuddering with his sobbing laughter.


“What the fuck,” Iwa-chan says, grinning broadly at Tooru as he strokes his hair away from his face. “I can’t believe that worked.”


“You doubted me?”


“Never,” Iwa-chan says, and kisses him again. Tooru hums, gently tugging the comforter more toward them so that he can cushion Iwa-chan better against the unforgiving wood floor. This new position is perfect for him to grind his dick against Iwa-chan’s thigh, slinging his own leg over Iwa-chan’s so that he can nudge his knee up between his legs for some well-deserved friction. Iwa-chan simply grips him behind the knee, free hand toying with Tooru’s hair as they kiss and kiss and kiss, tongues slick and loud in the silence of the room.


“Mm, Iwa-chan, your proof,” Tooru mumbles as Iwa-chan’s hand inches higher, toward his dick. He would be very grateful for an Iwa-chan handjob right now, but as great as sex with Iwa-chan is, victory sex with Iwa-chan is even better. Iwa-chan groans and reaches out, fumbling for his pants so he can dig his phone out of the pocket.


Iwa-chan has always sucked at taking selfies, but Tooru makes any photo that he’s in look spectacular. Iwa-chan positions the camera so it’s them from the waist up with the destroyed bed in the background. Tooru draws his tongue along the line of Iwa-chan’s jaw as he hits the photo button multiple times in quick succession.


“You okay?” Tooru asks him, rubbing his chest, although it’s mostly just an excuse to fondle his tits and thumb over his nipples, making him twitch in delight as Tooru dips his hand toward his nethers and strokes again, slow and steady. Iwa-chan nods, propping himself up on one elbow and then flipping over to bracket Tooru in.


“Yeah, fine. Fall didn’t hurt that much and honestly… this position is pretty good. I like the view.”


“You’re so cheesy,” Tooru tells him, accepting the kiss that Iwa-chan offers as compensation, scratching his fingers through Iwa-chan’s fluffy hair.


“You happy to stay down here too?”


“Yeah. Just pull the comforter under me a little more- yeah like that- and get me a pillow.”


“For your hips?” Iwa-chan asks, sitting up straighter with a twinkle in his eye. Tooru pouts at him! The nerve! Insinuating that Tooru would compromise his game like that when he knows how enthusiastic Iwa-chan gets the first time he’s allowed to stick it in after they’ve been apart for a while! As much as he would like Iwa-chan to bend him in half and fuck his brains out, he has games to play, teams to demolish, and a gold medal to win.


“For my head, stupid,” Tooru tells him, thunking the heel of his hand against Iwa-chan’s forehead. “You don’t get to fuck me until all our games are over, because unlike someone I need my range of motion unhindered by dicks in my ass.”


“Right,” Iwa-chan mutters, looking contrite as he searches for a pillow in the debris of their bed. Tooru doesn’t like that. Reunion-victory sex should be a happy affair, not a sheepish one.


“But,” he tells him, hooking both hands around the nape of Iwa-chan’s neck and using him to pull himself up slightly so Iwa-chan can tuck the pillow behind his head. “When I win, you won’t be needing any of those Olympic condoms.”


“Fuck,” Iwa-chan groans, as Tooru lips teasingly at the corners of his mouth. “The things you do to me.”


“I haven’t had you all to myself for eight months,” Tooru reminds him, taking them both in hand. Iwa-chan shudders, head falling forward as he bites his lip. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”




Iwaizumi [12:51pm]: [image attached] I win lol

FREAK OF NATURE 1 [12:51pm]: HOW?!?!?!??!??!?!?!

Ojiro [12:51pm]: YES!!!!! FUCK YES

tsum tsum [12:51pm]: what long distance dick does 2 a man

welcome home cheater [12:52pm]: IWAIZUMI-SAN?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?

freak of nature 2 (affectionate) [12:52pm]: Congratulations Iwaizumi-san


tsum tsum [12:53pm]: fuck dude rin owes us so much money 😂

official jnt documentarian [12:53pm]: fuck both of you so hard

Ushijima Wakatoshi [12:54pm]: Please say hello to Oikawa for me. He looks well.


team dilf [12:54pm]: so we’re just gonna ignore kageyama and hinata losing their own competition?

Ushijima Wakatoshi [12:55pm]: @ LITTLE GIANT I did not mean it in that way. I have not seen Oikawa in many years. Argentina looks as if it has treated him very well.

tsum tsum [12:55pm]: everyone look at the gayboy never got over his hs crush 🤣🤣🤣

Ojiro [12:55pm]: Why did you have to kill him like that in front of everyone 😭

tsum tsum [12:56pm]: nah but really tho how did u do it omi has this gc muted

eyebrows the man [12:56pm]: asking for a friend xoxo

Iwaizumi [12:57pm]: basic physics u bounce it into the wall w ur combined weight the swaying motion collapses it

welcome home cheater [12:57pm]: HI OIKAWA-SAN CONGRATS ON THE SEX

tsum tsum [12:57pm]: oosh shot bro 🤙

Iwaizumi [12:57pm]: thank u for the support can’t talk getting my dick sucked

Ushijima Wakatoshi [12:58pm]: Hello Oikawa

Ushijima Wakatoshi [12:58pm]: Nevermind

tsum tsum [12:59pm]: what a man