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Oikawa Tooru is back in Japan.
How he managed to keep the whole thing a secret from the press, he had to give credit to the unbelievable work his Argentinian team managers did to make this happen.
He was given a generous one month vacation to head back to Japan and visit his parents in Miyagi who had been incessantly complaining about him not going home as often as he should even though he had tirelessly explained to them that his home now is in Argentina, a fact they still haven’t accepted, by the way, but he does indulge them every now and then. Besides, it’s not like he hates going home to Japan.
As planned, he met Hanamaki in one of the coffee shops in the airport. Even from afar, he could see his old teammate huddled at a corner table of the cafe. He was bundled in the thickest, ugliest coat Oikawa had ever seen, cupping a hot mug of coffee in his hands and when he called him, Hanamaki looked up and gave him an unimpressed scowl.
“Whose idea is it to head back to Japan in one of the worst winters?” Hanamaki complained right away.
“Gee, welcome back, Oikawa .” Oikawa mocked with sarcasm, rolling his eyes in contempt as that wasn’t the welcome he expected to receive especially when he hadn’t been home for almost three years now.
He wheeled his luggage towards the table and slumped onto the chair across Hanamaki. He was exhausted from getting stuck in the plane for almost an entire day with his flight from Argentina to Tokyo and he made sure to tell the other guy just how awful his experience was.
“Well, who thought it would be smart to take a direct flight anyway? You could have chosen to get connecting flights then you won’t be complaining like that. Also, aren’t you supposed to be travelling in business class?”
“Yeah, but if I took connecting flights, I’d have to get off the plane and my managers don’t want that. Also, does it matter if I’m in business class? You know I hate flying..” Oikawa whined. He leaned against the table, propping his head on his arm and yawned.
“Says the international athlete who is always flying off somewhere,” Hanamaki sighed before rising to his feet.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“To buy your tired ass some coffee.”
“That’s so sweet, Makki.”
“You think Iwa would forgive me if I let you pass out?”
It took a while for what he said to register in his jetlagged brain and when it did, Hanamaki was already a few feet away. Iwa-chan. Of course! This has got to be his boyfriend’s doing especially when Hanamaki messaged him suddenly out of the blue, asking about his flight details a few days after he and Iwaizumi had a fight about the latter not being able to pick him up from the airport.
There’s a training camp , he had said. And Oikawa knew it couldn’t be helped because it’s his job. Not when Iwaizumi told him explicitly what being the trainer of the national Japanese team meant, two years ago when he accepted the job. But it didn’t stop his bitterness.
It’s definitely an upgrade from my job at the university. He couldn’t even deny that—the job has better pay and opens a lot of opportunities. But did it have to be Japan?
For one thing, he had to move out of their apartment in Buenos Aires and go back to Tokyo. That still stings a lot—but not as much as the long distance relationship they are now trying so hard to keep afloat. If there’s any consolation, at least he would go home once the Olympics season is over, which is only a few months away.
But it’s not just that. Iwaizumi— his Hajime is training his annoyingly good kouhai and his longtime rival who both managed to keep him from ever competing in nationals to defeat his team. Why didn’t he suggest to his boyfriend the trainer job in his team? Especially when Iwaizumi practically knows everyone, anyway, with his team treating the guy as their on-call trainer during off seasons. But then again, Iwaizumi wouldn’t want that. Like him, he is too prideful to accept any form of help in his career, especially coming from him… and it’s not like he needed it.
“Oi, Oikawa. Are you listening?”
Suddenly he was brought back to the present and he felt a bit guilty for daydreaming right in front of Hanamaki, who was waving a cup of caramel macchiato in front of his face, looking unimpressed, “You’re spacing out on me?”
“Sorry Makki,” He said, grabbing the cup and taking a sip, “I’m just super jetlagged.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. I’m supposed to deliver you to Iwa’s apartment.”
“Ah so you’re my chauffeur today.”
“Call me that one more time and I’ll walk away now,” He says, but he did grab Oikawa’s luggage and wheeled it along as they left. They headed to the parking lot where Iwaizumi’s car was parked—he knew it was Iwaizumi’s, because he chose it for him, a blue Subaru impreza.
“Hmn… so that’s what it cost?”
“Yeah, one full day with his baby if I fetch you from the airport.” Hanamaki opened the compartment and placed his luggage inside.
“I thought I was his baby?” Oikawa mused when they entered the car and Hanamaki snorted, “You’re his curse. This is his baby. Shiny, scratch-free and doesn’t have a bad attitude all in all.”
He pouted in his seat as Hanamaki started the car and pulled out from the parking slot, “Why are you like this? You’ve been hanging out with Iwa-chan a lot you’ve also become mean to me.”
“You’re just jealous cuz I can get to hang out with him more than you.” Oikawa saw the instant regret in Hanamaki’s face the moment those words were out. Like a ‘I didn’t mean to rub salt to the wound’ kind of regret and Oikawa actually felt bad for two things: one, he knew it was just a joke; two, it was also true.
“Don’t you have work today?” Oikawa asked, changing the topic to remove the awkward atmosphere. It was a Friday morning afterall.
Hanamaki cleared his throat, “Nah, I’m currently in between jobs so…”
“Ah so you’re a bum?” Oikawa suggested and Hanamaki chuckled. Touché. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
Their conversation went easier after that. They talked about what the rest of the team were up to—although Oikawa knew about their jobs, it was quite a long time since he had some news back home. Iwaizumi tries to update him every now and then but they’re just too many and their Skype calls, too short, because time difference is a bitch , he hasn’t checked up a lot.
Sure, he stayed in touch with the Seijoh third years, if in touch meant staying in a chat group where they occasionally send holiday and birthday greetings every now and then. If you think about it, it’s sad really, because Oikawa knew the strain it would cause in his relationships the moment he decided to live in Argentina.
Hell, even his relationship with Iwaizumi suffered a lot and if the guy didn’t come to California where they didn’t have to fly across the globe to meet, they might have not made it. Still, he has to thank the distance between them as it forced out a confession from Iwaizumi after months or maybe years of dancing around each other. They moved in together the moment Iwaizumi graduated from the university and the guy started his practice in the nearby local college, climbing his way to the top while he pursued his volleyball career.
“You should take a nap when we get there.” Hanamaki suggested when he saw Oikawa yawn four times before completing one full sentence.
“That’s not smart for my jet lag.” Oikawa said, taking another sip of his coffee.
“A nap. I didn’t mean you should call it a day. Iwa will probably want to talk to you anyway… speaking of which, have you messaged him?”
“No. I’m trying out this thing called silent treatment. I’m still bitter he didn’t pick me up.”
“Wow. You’re still as petty as ever. He’s been away for like a week already so it isn’t like he meant to do it.”
“I know, I just want him to feel bad about it.”
“Is my presence not proof enough that he feels bad about it?”
“No, you’re a bargaining piece and I ain’t buying.”
“You two haven’t changed at all. Still arguing like kids. And Iwa still giving in to you in the end.”
Oikawa felt his face heat up as his chest tightened in longing. Hanamaki noticed and grinned, “Seriously though, send him a message.”
A silence fell between them, mostly due to Oikawa’s stubbornness. But he also knew it was cruel even to his standard, to not let his boyfriend know he had arrived safely. The only problem was, “I haven’t set up my phone yet.”
“There’s a spare in the glove compartment because he figured that out as well. Seriously, he’s so whipped it’s almost disgusting.”
“Hey, not ‘cuz Mattsun broke up with you, you get a free pass on pissing on other people’s relationship.”
The two dated openly since college, which didn’t come as a surprise to the rest of the team because they were basically attached at the hip ever since high school. Maybe, what’s more shocking was their eventual breakup.
“I told you, it was a mutual decision. We’re both adults who wanted different things. Also, we’ve remained friends… and the casual sex is great.”
“Yeah? How is that working out for you?”
“Better than you, obviously. You sexless freak.” Hanamaki chuckled, “How’s abstinence working for you by the way?”
“Fuck off, Makki.” Oikawa pouted, hating himself for walking right into that one and the fact that Hanamaki was right. He turned away to look out the window. Tokyo barely changed except for new advertisements flashing in the LED billboards. It felt familiar yet foreign at the same time. “I miss him,” He whispered before he could stop himself. He definitely didn’t want to appear weak, especially not in front of an old friend who knew about his feelings for Iwaizumi long before the latter did.
“I know.” Hanamaki surprisingly didn’t sound condescending this time, “So just go ahead and message him.”
“Maybe when I get to the apartment.”
Hanamaki sighed in defeat. Oikawa ignored him. If he messages Iwaizumi now, the guy would probably drop everything he’s doing and call...and he was not so sure he would be able to keep his composure when that happens.
—
<< Iwa-chan. I’m now in your empty apartment.
They arrive at Iwaizumi’s apartment in Minato. Hanamaki offered to stay with him but he refused the offer, choosing privacy over companionship. The guy left, but not before reminding him of the reunion they’ll have once Iwaizumi gets back from training camp. Oikawa barely confirmed before the guy was out the door.
He decided to take a shower to wash off all the airport dirt and grime before taking in the rest of the apartment. Of course, Iwaizumi could have stayed in the dorms for the team, but as stereotypical of the guy, he wanted to have a place of his own no matter how small.
The apartment is nested on the seventh floor of the building, was on a decent size with one bedroom, modern kitchen and living room furnished with sleek, modern furniture that came with the place. It looked more like a bachelor’s pad, with the stiff, monochromatic style which looked very different from their apartment back in Buenos Aires which was warm and homey and filled with small trinkets from all the places they had been to.
But the place reeked of Iwaizumi’s presence that the moment he entered, he almost curled in a corner and cried from missing him so much. He could see the littlest habits around the place, the gym bag by the genkan which back then he would always gripe about. The clutter of paper and folders on the coffee table which was very typical of him when he’s busy; the jacket strewn across the couch; the half empty jug of water on the table… Iwaizumi, Oikawa knows, is not a sloppy roommate , but he’s not perfect either.
What he did miss however, was the smell of his pine-scented shower gel. And he lathered himself up with it so much when he took a shower that when he went out all clean, wearing fresh new clothes (one of Iwaizumi’s shirts), it was as if Iwaizumi’s presence was with him.
The spare phone Iwaizumi prepared for him rang just when he was making tea and drying his hair. He rushed to pick it up and wasn’t at all surprised when he heard Iwaizumi’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Iwa-chan.”
“What time did you arrive?” Iwaizumi sounded mad.
“Two hours ago.”
“Why did I just hear from you, then?” There was an accusation in his voice that Oikawa hated, “I told you to message me as soon as you land.”
“Hmn… if you have picked me up, then you would know exactly when I landed.” Oikawa couldn’t help but be bitter once again.
A silence. Then, “That’s unfair, don’t you think?”
He sighed, “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry.”
“I feel really bad that I didn’t get to pick you up. But what can I do? It’s the last training camp for the year before we have our Christmas break.”
Go home earlier. I’m sure they can manage missing you for a day or two. “I know. It’s fine. We’ll see each other tomorrow, anyway.”
“Yeah. I’ll be back in the afternoon. Then we can drive to Miyagi the next day.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Another silence, and then, “ Tooru .” followed by a soft sigh and an, “I miss you.”
His chest tightened once more and he had to bite his lower lip to stop a pathetic whimper from escaping past him because he would never want Iwaizumi to know how bad he wanted to be with him. How empty their apartment felt in Argentina. How many times he received an earful from his coach and manager for wanting to suddenly fly to Japan just because he misses him.
He wouldn’t want him to know because that was a weak side of him he wouldn’t dare show. But this was Iwaizumi and if there was someone he could be vulnerable with, it was him. So he allowed himself a little leeway and whispered softly, “I miss you, too.” He hated that it still sounded pathetically weak.
They didn’t speak again for a while, both content at listening to each other breathe. And then someone on Iwaizumi’s side called to him and his boyfriend frantically told him goodbye because the coach needed him. Oikawa didn’t even manage to say his goodbye when the line was cut.
Feeling the loneliness and longing creeping right back at him, Oikawa went to Iwaizumi’s room, where his presence and absence felt strongest.
A book about physical therapy on the nightstand, a highlighter pen used as a makeshift bookmark, squeezed between its leaves. More jackets and sweaters in a heap at the corner of the room and the collection of DVD of all volleyball matches he had been studying in the half-open drawer near the mounted television.
Oikawa dove into the bed and was assaulted by the strong scent of Iwaizumi and the detergent he always used. He cocooned himself in the blankets but even that wasn’t enough to replicate the living furnace that was Iwaizumi. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the guy lying beside him, embracing him—but that only made the gaping hole inside him feel a lot emptier. A few minutes of this and the phone buzzed again.
>> I’ll see you tomorrow, Tooru. I love you.
That put a soft smile on his face. Like the countless nights he spent alone in Argentina, he hugged his phone close to his chest, and dreamt of tomorrow. The promise was so real that he finally felt the exhaustion overcome him as the comfort of the bed and Iwaizumi’s scent around him lulled him to sleep.
—
He woke up to a loud crash outside the room followed by a multitude of curses. He was so out of it, he didn't know if he was dreaming or anything… but the gnawing hunger in his stomach seemed real enough. It was still dark outside and glancing at his phone, he realized it’s just a little over two in the morning.
So what in the world— the realization hit him like a freight truck. One moment he was still tethering between sleep and wakefulness and the next minute he had jumped from the bed and bolted outside the room. With his heart in his hand, he reached the genkan, to find the love of his life on the floor, bags scattered all around him.
The man didn’t notice him at first… as he was looking around the mess, the signature scowl on his face and Oikawa couldn’t help feeling the fondness tug in his heart.
“Iwa-chan…” he called softly and the man who finally realized his presence, met his eyes and there it was… the tears that he held back from the very beginning of the trip, the longing he denied for many months because he didn’t want Iwaizumi to feel he made the wrong decision of leaving him to pursue his dreams. All the emotions that made him weak suddenly burst forth because he missed the man so much and all he could do is to show it to him—regretfully, through crying.
The scowl left Iwaizumi’s face, and now he just looked sheepish. But he did manage to remove himself from the tangled mess to stand up and open his arms to Oikawa who immediately took the opportunity and flew into his them. Instantly, he was wrapped into familiarity.
The warmth, the scent, the feel of his solid chest… Oikawa wanted to melt. He wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, burying his face somewhere behind his ear because though both of them had grown taller since highschool, Iwaizumi still hasn’t caught up with his height for Oikawa to lean on his shoulder.
It was still a sore spot for Iwaizumi which Oikawa frequently uses to his advantage during banters, although truthfully, his boyfriend is just a few centimeters shorter than him. Also, what he lacks in height, he makes up for his bulky muscles, anyway.
His hands roamed around the expanse of Iwaizumi’s back, the muscle of his arms until the other pulled away to reach for his face and bring him down for a kiss to which he happily obliged—parting his lips so they could fully, properly slot their mouths together.
There was no need for shy, slow kisses—both of them were deprived long enough and it was evident with how deep and desperate they kissed.
Iwaizumi tasted like peppermint and then another mild taste of something akin to cinnamon, or maybe Oikawa was imagining things because those are two of his favorite flavors and Iwaizumi is his favorite person, afterall.
Their tongues danced around each other, curling and exploring until both of them were panting and gasping for air.
Fuck, he forgot how good of a kisser Iwaizumi was.
He was an international athlete known for his strongest jumpserves, and yet just with boyfriend’s kisses, his knees turned into jelly. Iwaizumi noticed, and pulled him closer by the waist to support him, also so they could grind their bodies together. He moaned against the kiss and he felt the other smile before sucking on his tongue and biting on his lower lip until he was breathless and bleary eyed.
They were both catching their breaths when they ended the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting their lips. Forehead to forehead, they looked into each other’s eyes like lovesick highschoolers. Iwaizumi smirked at him and wiped the tears still rolling down his cheeks, “You’re really an ugly crier.”
Oikawa pouted at having their magical reunion broken by how crass the other was, before pushing him off and wiping the tears with his sleeves, “You just had to go ahead and ruin the moment, didn’t you?”
He turned back to the apartment with a huff, marching towards the kitchen to grab glasses of water for both of them. Behind him, he could hear his boyfriend chuckling as he followed him to the kitchen.
“I thought you won’t be back until later this afternoon.”
“Yeah.”
“So why are you here right now?”
“I think the answer’s pretty obvious.”
Of course . Oikawa ignored the fluttering in his stomach when he realized that Iwaizumi went home earlier, especially for him .
He wanted to say something but got distracted as he watched the guy peel off his coat only to drop it haphazardly on the floor—this usually annoys him to no end, but he forgave him right away when he saw what he was wearing underneath. The black Dri FIT shirt emphasized his muscles with his every move as the guy reached out for the glass of water from him and drank it. It was successful in distracting him from asking that one question that needed to be asked.
It was unfair, really… how Oikawa is the national athlete but between them, Iwaizumi still had the better form. Iwaizumi noticed him ogling and raised a brow at him before giving another very smug grin. He didn’t say anything, not even a crude remark about it, which made things more embarrassing for Oikawa—until he realized something.
Iwaizumi was also staring at him intently. And the piercing eyes of his boyfriend had a predatory gleam in them that made his insides liquefy. “Iwa-chan, if you’re going to— oompff!!”
His words were cut short when in just three huge steps, Iwaizumi had dashed across the kitchen to grab him by the waist and push him against one of the kitchen counters. Mouth covered his instantly, tongue probing inside without a second’s warning and if he thought the kiss by the door was desperate, this was just pure starvation.
Teeth clacking against each other, he let out a shameless moan when Iwaizumi brought his hands to cup his ass and lift him to sit on the counter. He wrapped his legs around the other’s waist, arms hooking across his neck as if any moment the other would escape. He wouldn’t, but Oikawa didn’t want to take a chance.
Iwaizumi rolled his hips against his, eliciting a sensuous gasp from both of them at the sudden pressure. The guy proceeded to kiss and bite his way down to his jaw then to his neck, licking every bit of skin he could latch on. He tugged on his shirt to expose his bare chest, pausing momentarily to stare down at him.
The approval in Iwaizumi’s eyes made Oikawa gloat, “Like what you see?” Iwaizumi blinked at him with eyes clouded over by lust and as if he didn’t know what he was talking about before he frowned, “I could give you some tips.”
“What the hell?!” He smacked him on his chest, making Iwaizumi chuckle, “Your boyfriend’s an Olympian and you still talk shit about me.”
“Hey, your boyfriend trained Olympians so you should listen to me.” Iwaizumi said, tracing his finger down Oikawa’s chest. Whatever protest Oikawa had disappeared when Iwaizumi leaned down to lick a stripe down his chest and took in a pebbled nipple into his mouth.
He shivered either from the cold or from the way Iwaizumi pushed him at arm's length to take in the view. Iwaizumi’s eyes were dark—like a predator watching his prey and just like the other times, that intensity still makes him weak.
He would have wanted more time to gaze at each other—especially when he’s beginning to notice how much Iwaizumi had changed for the time they’ve been apart, like the bags under his eyes and his growing stubble which gave him a manlier look, but his impatience was growing thin. He had been deprived for months and the last thing he needed from his boyfriend was a slow, romantic lovemaking when what he wanted was an absolute quick, rough, fuck.
“Come on, Iwa-chan.” He complained but Iwaizumi just chuckled, “Why are you so impatient?” He pecked Oikawa’s lips quickly, pulling away before the latter could deepen the kiss.
Oikawa pouted at the loss of touch, “Why are you such a tease? Especially when you came home early probably just for this.”
“What?!” A certain look passed Iwaizumi’s face—as if Oikawa just stumbled upon something he wasn’t supposed to, but it was gone before Oikawa could comment on it. Iwaizumi cleared his throat and stepped away, “It’s not like that, dummy. I’m not an animal.”
“Well you are in the perfect moments.” The teasing glint in his eyes irked Iwaizumi but Oikawa ignored that. He simply grinned and pulled the guy into his arms, wrapping himself around the guy, “I’m joking, Iwa-chan. I just missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too.” Iwaizumi admitted, pulling away so he could kiss Oikawa properly on the mouth. Oikawa smiled gently when they broke the kiss, “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”
Iwaizumi kissed his neck, humming a response, “Hmn…” Before he swooped in, slipping his hands to grab him by the ass and carry him. “What the f—Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelped, automatically wrapping his legs and arms around the other more securely as they hobbled through the apartment.
“See? I could definitely give you some tips.” Iwaizumi said, grinning at him as he dumped Oikawa onto the bed. “Shut up. You can just do that because you’re a brute.” Oikawa hissed, embarrassed at being carried like that.
Iwaizumi didn’t answer him and just proceeded to peel off his shirt, which served as a great distraction because— damn! No wonder he could lift Oikawa up so easily. Oikawa sat up to touch the muscles on his abdomen, “I thought you’re always busy, but why are you this ripped?”
Iwaizumi raised a brow at him, “Are you complaining that your boyfriend’s hot?”
“That’s not it—just, how do you even find the time to work out?”
“Oikawa, it comes with the job.” Iwaizumi said before pulling on Oikawa’s shirt, this time and basically ripping it off of him. He was on him the second the shirt was tossed to the floor, kissing and sucking on his neck like a thirsty animal.
“But still— hnggh— if you spent less— ahh! —time working out, you might— uhhh— have more time talking to— haah— me...” Oikawa continued babbling on even when his insides were quickly turning into lava.
“Tooru.” Iwaizumi breathed out his name against his ear and a shiver ran through him, setting his entire body into an electric shock. With the tip of his nose, Iwaizumi slowly traced his way back so now they were face to face, lips touching but not kissing, breaths mingling, “When will you ever shut up?”
Oikawa blinked at him, completely stunned and turned on at the deep rumble of his voice and the way his green eyes turned a shade darker from lust. He licked his lips but didn’t say another word.
“Good boy.” Iwaizumi dipped down, caressed his cheek before claiming his lips fully. His other hand explored down his body, only to be followed by his warm mouth, licking and nipping his way until he found a perked up nipple.
“Hah—Ahh!!” Oikawa gasped when Iwaizumi rolled his nipple into his mouth, sucking deeply as his hands roamed downward still—to where Oikawa wanted him to touch.
He was already hard and dripping when Iwaizumi pulled his boxers down and wrapped his hands around him. “F-fuck…” he gasped when Iwaizumi began stroking his length, alternating between slow and fast speed. He closed his eyes and let the waves of pleasure course through him and before he knew what was happening, something warm and wet wrapped around the head of his arousal.
His eyes flew open and he looked down to find himself disappearing into Iwaizumi’s mouth. “Ohgod…ahhhh…” He threw his head back and grabbed onto the blankets as the other gave him head. He felt electrified and on fire at the same time and the coiling at the pit of his stomach should have warned him that he was about to cum but he was too lost in the sensation of a tongue swirling around him that it was too late to warn him.
“Ahh!! Hajime !” He screamed his name as he came, spraying strings of semen on Iwaizumi’s face who pulled away at the last minute. It took a few seconds before Oikawa looked down to see the mess he created and immediately regretted it. Iwaizumi was able to dodge most of it (it landed on his chest), some of it still clung to his cheeks and now he was wiping it off with his thumb and licking it clean… and the action was just incredibly hot.
Oikawa was getting hard again. Especially when Iwaizumi followed it up with, “You taste so good.”
He moved so now he was standing between Oikawa’s legs and in that position, Oikawa thought he looked like a fucking god, literally, a god for fucking. With the cum-stained chest, the hard lines of muscles, the wisp of hair trailing down to his groin and the black sweatpants that did nothing to hide the painfully hard evidence of his arousal.
Oikawa licked his lips at the thought of putting that in his mouth but when he moved to try to do just that, Iwaizumi held him down, “No. Tonight, I’ll have you the way I want to.”
That was the only warning he got before Iwaizumi flipped him over, pushed his waist down, raising his ass in the air and dove into the swell of his exposed cheeks. “Iwa-chan what—ahhh— hngggh!! ” He bit hard on his arm as Iwaizumi’s mouth latched onto his hole, tongue licking and lips sucking softly. A hand snaked towards his already hard length, still slick from drool and cum and began stroking again. The other hand joined his mouth, stretching out his asshole and giving more access to the probing tongue.
Oikawa was going crazy. All these sensations taking him over the edge again, ready to implode. He was making sounds he didn’t knew he was capable of making and begging Iwaizumi for something even he couldn’t articulate. And when he was about to—Iwaizumi suddenly pulled away and left him hanging on the edge, in frustration.
He was about to look back and complain when Iwaizumi entered him in one swift move, no preparation whatsoever. It hurt, for a while—because though he had used his tongue and fingers to prepare him, it had been a long time since they did this and Iwaizumi was in no way average in size.
“Haaahh!!”
Suddenly, the room was filled with nothing else but moans, grunts and the sound of bodies slapping and sliding against each other. Oikawa covered his mouth with his hand to swallow down the sounds he made, as Iwaizumi squeezed his hips to keep him steady because even in bed, Oikawa was restless. He simply couldn’t keep still or keep quiet… and Iwaizumi loved it, spreading the cheeks of his ass more so he could watch himself sink into them.
“Fuck, you feel so good .” Iwaizumi grunted from behind him, thrusting deeper. Oikawa screamed at the sudden change in angle and Iwaizumi just knew he found his prostate. “Ah, there it is.”
He pistoned his hips over and over in that same angle until Oikawa’s knees and arms gave out and he collapsed on the bed. Before he could, however, Iwaizumi had grabbed both his arms and pulled him back into him, thrusts getting faster and faster as they chased their orgasms.
“Hajime… Hajime… ” Oikawa was crying his name over and over and from the way the other was clenching onto him, Iwaizumi knew he was already close. Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around his chest, one hand playing with his nipple while the other was wrapped around his length.
“Come on, Tooru. Let go. ” He whispered, biting on his earlobe and instantly, the other boy was convulsing around him, squeezing his length until he thrusted two more times and came himself.
They fell limp into the bed after, still connected until their breathing was normal enough and their hearts had stopped racing. Iwaizumi pulled out. He would never tell Oikawa but he secretly loved how he could wreck that beautiful, perfectly polished look of his into one that is needy, lust-glazed and just… incredibly debauched.
They fell asleep like that—in between sweat and cum-stained sheets, too tired to move from the warm embrace they had enveloped themselves into.
—
Oikawa woke up for the second time that day from the growling of his empty stomach. The morning light had already spilled into the room, painting the walls with a bright orange glow. Too bright . He groaned aloud and buried his face back into the pillows.
He was alone in the bed, but there was a lingering warmth on the empty space beside him. His hips were throbbing, but the stickiness he expected to feel between his legs wasn’t there. Somebody had thoughtfully cleaned him up.
He heard the door open, followed by soft footsteps approaching him before he felt a hand card through his hair. The warm smell of toasted bread and coffee wafted in and he peeked from his prone position to look up at his boyfriend who was carrying a mug of warm coffee.
“Morning, Iwa-chan.” He said, stretching his arms out. How could he look so devastatingly hot in the morning, Oikawa would never know. But he looked so good, freshly showered, damp hair that smelled like pine, wearing a basic shirt that accentuated his arms and sweatpants that hugged his hips. “Get some breakfast first before you sleep again.” Iwaizumi said, handing him the mug.
“What time is it?” He asked, sitting up to take a sip of the brewed coffee. Black, blergh. He returned it to Iwaizumi who chuckled at his reaction. The guy sat on the bed beside him, drinking his coffee.
“Nine in the morning.”
“Ah, it’s still too early…” Even without the jetlag, Oikawa hated waking up early on his days off. He stretched his limbs again before leaning against his boyfriend who grunted in response.
“Sorry about last night.” Iwaizumi whispered bashfully, “I got a bit carried away.”
Oikawa peered at his boyfriend, noticing there were also a few scratch marks on his nape and neck—which meant it wasn’t just him who got carried away. He kissed his shoulder, “Iwa-chan… it’s fine. You just missed me and I’m totally the same.”
They sat there in silence for a while before Iwaizumi shoved him off of him gently, “You should shower and have breakfast.”
Oikawa nodded, dragging his sore body out the bed with the help of his boyfriend and into the shower. The warm water helped soothe his tired body and he felt a little better when he got to the kitchen where breakfast was waiting for him. It wasn’t anything special—some toast, scrambled eggs and coffee (this time, properly sugared and creamed) , but it felt like home. He sat beside Iwaizumi as the latter told stories about the training camp.
“Hmn…I think Miya has a crush on you.” Oikawa quipped after Iwaizumi mentioned how the guy would always find a way to complain about some phantom injury which would always turn out to be a big nothing.
“I don’t think that’s it.” Iwaizumi said, popping the last bite of toast into his mouth, “He does that to every single one in the team. Mostly Hinata, but I’m thinking it’s just to get a rise from Kageyama.”
“Oh, how’s my dear Tobio-chan?” He asked, taking Iwaizumi’s plate to load in the dishwasher. His question wasn’t much of a question but more of a sneer.
“He’s doing great.” Iwaizumi responded, taking a rag from the sink to wipe the table, “Perfect condition. He’ll beat your ass in the Olympics.”
Oikawa scoffed mockingly, “If I remember correctly, you are boyfriends with me—not him. So why are you taking his side?”
Iwaizumi chuckled, “Well for one, he’s a good kid and doesn’t have a trashy personality. Personally, if you could get past his awkward aloofness, you’d actually like him.”
“Take that back, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa snapped, “Take that back or I swear to god I’d—“
“What?” Iwaizumi raised a brow, “You’d leave for Argentina? Your flight’s not in two weeks, dummy.”
“Withhold sex!” He announced proudly.
“Woah—woah, what did we walk into?”
They were too engaged in their conversation/argument they didn’t even notice when two people walked in the apartment. It was Hanamaki and their kouhai, Kindaichi.
Oikawa gaped at them. A beat of silence passed before Hanamaki produced the car keys from his pocket, “Came to return this.” Iwaizumi nodded and took the keys from the guy, nodding at Yahaba in the process.
“Welcome back, Oikawa-san.” Kindaichi politely greeted and Oikawa strode towards him and ruffled his hair.
“It’s too early for a lover’s spat, don’t you think?” Hanamaki eyed them both.
Oikawa huffed, “Don’t look at me. Completely Iwa-chan’s fault.”
“Hmn?”
“He still hasn’t gotten over his insecurities with Kageyama.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Kageyama Tobio of Karasuno?” Hanamaki queried before he sighed—and then his eyes glinted in mischief , “Well, who would get over that kid? His team beat us at our last chance to go to nationals.”
“You too?!”
“Damn, Iwa-chan. Where does your loyalty lie?” Hanamaki leered at him, using his nickname mockingly, “Not only did you leave our dear captain alone in Argentina to train an opposing team, but you’re also training his nemesis.”
“Okay, I know the way you called me captain was meant to be insulting, but I’ll let it go just now because you’re making a point.” Oikawa rolled bis eyes at Hanamaki, “Not to mention, part of your team is Ushiwaka! How could you—“
“Seriously, you guys are such kids.” Iwaizumi raised his hand in exasperation, “And Kindaichi is supposed to be the youngest here.”
Poor Kindaichi looked so uncomfortable. He would never get used to the dynamics of his seniors no matter how many years have passed by. Hanamaki noticed his confused, awkward face and burst out laughing, Oikawa followed suit, “ Gomen, Yutaro-chan. We’re just messing around.”
Kindaichi recovered himself and nodded, “Ah yes, it’s okay. I kind of miss the senpais fooling around. It’s rare to see you guys together.”
The laughter died into a rather nostalgic lull, and poignant smiles crossed the faces of his seniors and for a moment, it felt like they were about to be unceremoniously sad for growing old and moving forward but that thought would be pointless because they couldn’t be kids forever. Oikawa, was the first to break it again, “You are so sentimental, Kindai-chan. It’s not like we could be in high school forever.”
He was the one who said this but there was a hint of sadness in the way he talked and smiled. Iwaizumi, of course, didn't miss it. But it was like an unwritten rule as they all chose to ignore it. There was no use being sentimental over things they couldn’t go back to.
Kindaichi and Hanamaki eventually left after raiding Iwaizumi’s pantry, which Oikawa later found out was a common occurrence, they said they were on their way to do some shopping to bring back gifts for their family in Miyagi. Oikawa went right back to bed when he finished breakfast, while Iwaizumi did some urgent tasks. But Iwaizumi sat on the bed with him and tangled their legs together as he dozed off, surrounded by his boyfriend’s warmth and smell.
—
His homecoming was a mess. His parents were so emotional for their own good that Iwaizumi had to step out of their house or he’d be dragged into the drama of it all. His parents were happy to see him but they were also complaining non-stop about not seeing him often. At least, Iwaizumi’s parents were just glad to see him again.
In the evening, they met with their previous teammates at their favorite ramen place which they used to go to when they were in high school. They were almost complete—Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Kindaichi, Kunimi, Yahaba and Watari. Even Kyoutani came although he was an hour late.
There, they caught up with each other’s lives and reminisced about their teenage memories. It was almost like they were back in high school… except for the booze which made conversations livelier and funnier.
“I’m telling you that guy is seriously gay.”
Apparently, Hanamaki was slobbering all over when he talked drunk. Matsukawa shook his head, “I still can’t imagine it. Ushiwaka with another dude… that guy's straight as a straw.”
“Yeah, ever heard of bendy straw? I tell you, that guy swings both ways.”
“I don’t like bendy straws, the glass has to be at a certain height otherwise, it just falls over.” Yahaba said to nobody in particular.
“How about swirly straw? Those look cute.” Was Kyoutani’s question.
“Swirly straws? What are you? A kid?”
“Why are we even talking about straws? We’re talking about Ushiwaka!”
“Why are we even gossiping about him?” Watari, surprisingly the only sensible in the group asked… and was ignored.
“Also, his unhealthy obsession with Oikawa in high school… man, that should have been enough of a sign.” Hanamaki jeered at Matsukawa, but it was Iwaizumi who shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Oikawa, of course didn’t miss this because everybody in their table knew that what Hanamaki was right, that regardless if Ushijima was indeed gay or not, he has an obsession with him. What they didn’t know, however, was Iwaizumi hated it.
Oikawa took a swig from his beer and leaned on the table, “Why don’t we ask Iwa-chan?”
“Oh yeah. He’s on your team. Surely your opinion counts.”
Iwaizumi glared at Oikawa. He knew him long enough to know what he was doing. But he shook his head and finished his beer in one go, “I don’t meddle with my team’s personal affairs.”
“Bullshit.” Hanamaki chortled, “You totally know what’s going on and you just don’t want to share, you selfish prick.”
“I’m sorry I’m not a rumor mongering bitch like you.” Iwaizumi sighed, impatience getting obvious by the second. Whether from being called out for his absolute bull, or just talking about Ushijima in general, Oikawa wasn’t sure—but he was willing to bet it was the latter.
“Boring.” He did complain with a pout. Somewhere on the table, Kindaichi who was silently watching them spoke out, “Iwaizumi-san, how is it training the national team?”
It was a genuine, innocent question and Oikawa could see the honest curiosity in that. Too bad because he also saw the mischievous glint on Matsukawa’s eyes when he heard it.
“Yeah, Iwaizumi-san how is it like training your boyfriend’s mortal enemies?” Matsukawa asked and Iwaizumi groaned in exasperation, “Not you, too.”
The way Hanamaki had snickered, Oikawa figured, meant he had told the guy about the morning. He watched as the rest of the team teased and riled his boyfriend up, watching Iwaizumi exasperatedly counter their petty arguments.
Finally taking pity on Iwaizumi, he slipped his hand to hold the guy’s hand under the table and smiled when Iwaizumi naturally laced their fingers. “Knock it out, guys.” He spoke up and Iwaizumi turned to him with grateful eyes, “As long as I get to see him in the finals, then I’m fine. Even if he’s on the other side of the court.” Then he gave a smug grin as he regarded Iwaizumi, “That is to say, if you guys would even reach the finals.”
Iwaizumi shook his head in disbelief, “All these years, and still an ass.”
Hanamaki burst out laughing, “Guess some things never change.”
Oikawa did agree. Looking at his teammates, felt like he was looking at the younger versions of them and it tugged in his heartstrings. Before the waterworks started, however, Iwaizumi noticed his bleary eyes and squeezed his hand. He turned to the guy questioningly, “You okay?”
He smiled before he nodded, “Yeah. Just…” Becoming a bit sentimental.
Iwaizumi raised a brow when he didn’t continue. He then checked his watch (the Rolex Oikawa gave him two years ago for their anniversary) before he turned to the rest of the people, “It’s getting late. We need to get home.”
“What? It’s still too early.”
“You mean, it is early. It’s already one in the morning.”
“Wha—what?!”
“Time goes fast when you’re having fun.”
“Or you’re just drunk, Hanamaki-san.”
“Shut up, Kunimi.”
It took another thirty minutes before the group found themselves outside the shop, Hanamaki taking a groupie right outside the store sign. The photo was a bit blurry and had terrible lighting but they were all drunk and too happy to mind.
They walked towards their old high school where they would eventually part ways, but when they arrived at the gates, all of them stood there motionless, staring into the building of their gym, lost in their own little worlds.
Iwaizumi had moved towards him and grabbed his hand, slipping it into his coat pocket. Oikawa smiled at him, silenced by the concoction of emotions inside him.
“You know what would be crazy?” Hanamaki quipped, breaking the silence that fell on them, “If we break in and play again in the court.”
They laughed softly at that—until the laughter faded into another silence, but this time, more pregnant than the last.
“Maybe, we should.” Oikawa said softly.
Eight pairs of eyes gaped at him in shock before Hanamaki and Matsukawa grinned at each other and then at the rest of the group.
—
“We don’t even have volleyball shoes on.”
“Quit complaining and just go barefoot.”
Breaking in the gym was surprisingly and alarmingly not that hard. They knew about the window with the broken lock at the supply room so they only needed to squeeze Watari in and he opened the door for them. They only opened a few of the overhead lights, enough just to illuminate the court.
They had stripped down to their undershirts and a not so impressive collection of thermal pants, sweatpants and dress pants.
“I’m pretty sure this is illegal.” Kindaichi said, as he helped Kunimi push a ball cart to the service line. Kyoutani and Iwaizumi had raised the net already while the rest were doing their best to warm up.
“If we ever get caught, hopefully Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s influence and star power are enough to get us out of trouble.” Matsukawa chimed in.
“Or get them into more trouble,” Watari chimed in.
“ Oi! Less talking, more doing!” Hanamaki yelled.
Somehow, they managed to set up the court to a proper game. It was 4v4 with Oikawa leading Kindaichi, Kyoutani and Hanamaki while Iwaizumi was on the other side with Matsukawa, Kunimi and Watari. Yahaba decided to sit this one out as he was wearing tight jeans and didn’t want to play in his boxer shorts.
Before the game started, in usual Oikawa fashion, he turned to the team and said, “I trust in you.” While Iwaizumi merely told his team, “Let’s go beat their ass.”
Oikawa found it weird playing in the Seijoh court with his previous teammates and not seeing them in their blue and white uniforms. It was like he time traveled to a different era—or a twisted combination of the past and the present. Like an alternate universe where they were still teammates but they were older and drunker than usual.
It was either the booze or the mismatched clothing choice but all of them sucked. They were slipping and tumbling all over, balls flying out of bounds or into each other’s faces, whether intentionally or not, no one was sure… nor would admit it.
Unsurprisingly even an international, professional athlete who trained for years in a sport they were supposed to be good at, would still be at his worst when drunk. He missed half of his serves, and when he fell for the third time during one of his jump serves, Iwaizumi called off the match in fear of any serious injuries they might get if this continued.
Oikawa called him a killjoy but had to listen eventually when nobody wanted to play with him anymore. Kindaichi had to excuse himself twice to throw up in the bathroom, while Watari did thrice. They laid down on the court, heaving from the awful match.
“That sucked.” Matsukawa said, “No wonder we lost nationals.”
They all laughed at the ridiculousness of that. They all knew they didn’t lose because they were weak, they lost because there was another team who was stronger. Besides…
“That was a long time ago.” Iwaizumi said.
Oikawa nodded with a smile. It was funny, he thought, how even though he and the rest of them had come a long way from that defeat, it still held a deeper meaning to everyone. Maybe because it wasn’t just about the game—but more of the people playing it. That was the last game they played as a team.
“You guys are awesome.” He said softly, “I would have never asked for another set of people I could have played volleyball with in high school.”
The words held so much meaning for the rest of them. Iwaizumi, who was lying down beside him, grabbed his hand and held it to his chest.
“Tell you what, during the Olympics… I’d wear the Argentine flag for you.” Hanamaki declared proudly.
“Yeah, me too. I’d paint my face with it.” Matsukawa agreed. One by one everyone pledged their support and loyalty to their old captain… and when Iwaizumi’s turn came, he sighed, “Guys, you know I…”
“It’s okay, Iwa-chan. I don’t think you’d be allowed anyway.” Oikawa was surprisingly truthfully okay with it. Of course, he wanted Iwaizumi to be beside him and wear his colors but he knew that it wouldn’t be fair to ask him of that.
“Oh, I think I have a solution!” Hanamaki, again and Iwaizumi seriously doubts he really does have a solution. But everyone was already looking in his direction and expecting something to which the pink-haired man exclaimed, “Underwear!”
—
Somewhere during the match, snow had started falling down and when the group finally parted, it had covered the sidewalk with a light dusting of snow. It was still relatively dark but a new day was already on its way as the two of them were walking the same path they used to take thousands of times before when they were still in Miyagi.
Oikawa was already sober but still too tired. He was just literally dragging his feet across the concrete to keep up with Iwaizumi. He was cold, too and halfway through their walk, Iwaizumi had to wrap his own scarf around Oikawa’s neck in sweet gesture.
When they reached the crossroads where they usually part ways, Iwaizumi halted in his steps, “Oikawa.”
“Hmn?” Oikawa turned to him, he was still cold and couldn’t wait to go home but he figured that maybe Iwaizumi just wanted to steal more time because tonight, they would need to separate again, he had to go home to his parents and Iwaizumi had to do the same.
“You know that no matter what color I wear, I’d still be supporting you, yeah?” Iwaizumi looked particularly nervous, he wasn’t looking at him and he was fidgeting with both hands in his pockets.
Oikawa chose to ignore it and beamed at him. He couldn’t believe Iwaizumi was still thinking about it, “Of course, Iwa-chan. I mean, you can probably try what Makki suggested and wear Argentine-inspired briefs.”
“If I do that, I would never outlive that.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, “I know you’ll make sure of that.”
“You bet I would.” Oikawa grinned, “I’ll make you wear it especially during the awarding ceremony where we will wear the gold and you’d wear the silver.”
“Maybe, you would be the one wearing something round and silver.” Iwaizumi suggested to which Oikawa scoffed hard, “Yeah, good luck defeating us. We’re hellbent on getting that gold medal.”
Oikawa had turned away and continued half walking and half dragging himself home when Iwaizumi spoke again, “I wasn’t talking about the medal.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
He heard a soft scuffle behind him and when he turned to look, Iwaizumi had bent down to one knee on the frozen ground, on his hand was a blue velvet box containing a matching set of platinum rings.
Oikawa gawked at him, unsure if this was actually happening. Iwaizumi was fidgety, looking anywhere else but at him.
“I know it’s bad timing since we’re in opposite teams and… I guess I’m not sure if we could even actually… I mean, it’s legal somewhere so maybe we could go… only if you want… or if you have time to…. Why are you laughing at me?”
Iwaizumi looked so lost and so nervous which was very out of character for him, it actually looked cute and funny. Oikawa stopped giggling and cocked his head to the side to regard him curiously, “Why are you so nervous?”
Iwaizumi answered with a glare and a click of the tongue, “It’s not everyday I ask someone to marry me and find them laughing to my face.”
Oikawa rolled his eyes, “You’re an idiot if you thought there was any other answer than yes.”
Iwaizumi’s eyes widened in surprise before he muttered, “I didn’t even ask anything yet.”
“You didn’t have to. The answer’s still yes.” Iwaizumi, seemingly satisfied with his response, stood up from the snowy ground to take his hand and slip the ring to his finger. It was a simple band etched with their birthdays and it looked just the right size for his finger. He took the other ring and put it on Iwaizumi. He admired their two hands clasped together, the two gold rings looking so perfect.
“So was this your plan all along? To propose during the dead of winter while we’re drunk?” Oikawa giggled, “That was very unromantic.”
Iwaizumi shook his head, “I bought those rings the day after we started dating.”
At that simple declaration of truth, Oikawa felt his chest get heavy. He didn’t even realize he was crying until Iwaizumi wiped a tear away from his face, “Why are you crying, idiot?”
“Nothing, I just…” He smiled at Iwaizumi who was looking at him with so much fondness it made him blush, “I love you so much, Hajime.”
Iwaizumi smiled back and whispered, “I love you too, Tooru.” Before he claimed his lips into a kiss.
—
Oikawa Tooru is back in Argentina.
His teammates were thrilled to have him back. But all of them had noticed there was something odd about the setter. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just different.
He had always been friendly before, calculating but friendly but lately, he had been unusually more chipper and his team didn’t know why. When they ask him what happened in Japan, he would simply say it was fun and then blush furiously like he just got married or something. He would refuse to tell more details, saying vague statements about his time there.
He would sometimes slip up and constantly mention a name, his childhood friend whom he met up for a reunion along with the rest of his previous teammates in Miyagi. He would talk about them nonchalantly but would often be more protective when people start asking questions about his childhood friend—almost like he didn’t want to share him.
It took three weeks for Santiago, their team captain and middle blocker to figure it out. It was even by accident, when he just finished a meeting with the coach and found Oikawa still at the lockers, getting ready to leave. He didn’t expect to find him there because practice had ended three hours ago but it was not unusual for Oikawa to stay and practice his serves.
When Oikawa saw him, he waved him goodbye and Santiago had to do a double take because there, in his left ring finger, was a platinum ring he had never seen Oikawa wear before.
—
“Congratulations.”
When Iwaizumi looked up, he found the last person he expected to see talking to him. Ushijima Wakatoshi was leaning down on him from his table as he stared at the ring on his finger.
“Oh, uh thanks.” He stammered.
Shit. Iwaizumi totally forgot to remove the ring and leave it in his car to avoid this exactly. Maybe once Ushijima leave, he could slip it off discreetly before the rest of the—
“Congratulations on what? Did Iwaizumi-san get married or something?” Bokuto walked in on them and Iwaizumi cursed himself for being too careless.
Kageyama, who was with Hinata who was trailing after Bokuto, turned to see the ring right away. He looked surprised, but not as surprised as Hinata and Bokuto, “Bokuto-san, look! Iwaizumi-san is wearing a wedding ring!”
“Oh wow, you’re right!” Bokuto exclaimed, finally noticing.
“Wait, so who did you get married to?” Hinata asked.
“Who else, boke? Of course it’s Oikawa-san!!” Kageyama snapped, smacking the ginger on the head.
“Guys, just… stop. I’m not married.” Yet. Iwaizumi said, groaning internally and covering his face with his hand from embarrassment.
“Then, congratulations on your engagement.” Ushijima corrected, unhelpfully.
“Oh, let me send a message to Oikawa-san.” Hinata chirped happily.
“Oikawa? The Argentinian setter? What’s up with him?” Miya came walking by, wondering what the commotion is all about.
“He got engaged.” Bokuto replied.
“Oh? To whom? Who’s the lucky girl ?”
“Iwaizumi-san.”
“Ehhhh?!!”
—
Later that night, Iwaizumi and Oikawa called each other via Skype vowing to stop wearing their rings to practice—at least until either one of them won gold.
+++