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A game of truth or dare over FaceTime had gotten them here. They had all been at least half drunk and three of them were homesick, looking for a semblance of normalcy in a game they used to play at every sleepover. It was all half assed dares and truths most of them could have guessed at simply by virtue of knowing each other for so long; practically an exercise in forgone conclusions.
The frame around Hanamaki lights up and he points at Oikawa.
“Truth or dare.”
“Truth,” Oikawa huffs out, still trying to cool his mouth after the shot glass full of hot sauce Iwaizumi made him drink.
“Who tops?” Hanamaki’s smirk is sharp and curious.
“He does,” Oikawa answers at the same time as Iwaizumi chimes in, “I do.”
Hanamaki simply shrugs as if this had been another forgone conclusion. The light migrates to Matsukawa who wastes no time pointing to Iwaizumi.
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Iwaizumi almost cringes at the questions that may get thrown his way.
“Always?” Matsukawa asks, his grin less easy and more predatory.
“Almost always,” Iwaizumi answers with a shrug of his own.
The light shifts again and Oikawa points to Matsukawa who answers before he’s asked.
“Truth.”
“Why are you asking?” Oikawa levels before taking a bite of ice cream.
“Curiosity I guess,” he smirks, “didn’t know if your control freak nature could override the pillow princess you obviously are.”
Hanamaki and Iwaizumi practically howl with laughter as Oikawa sputters in indignation, the red in his face having nothing to do with the hot sauce.
The light shifts again and Iwaizumi points at Hanamaki.
“Dare since the rest of you are insufferably boring.”
Iwaizumi grins, “dare you to dunk a cream puff in orange juice and eat it.”
The face he pulls is apparently hilarious because the other three cackle as the light shifts to him. He plops back into his seat with his mouth full and points at Iwaizumi as he struggles with the texture of the soggy pastry.
“Dare since you think we’re so boring.”
Hanamaki’s grin splits his face, and they all know that means trouble, “so you’re usually the top, huh? Dare you to let the three of us absolutely wreck you.”
The lines go silent, every eye on Iwaizumi as he seems to struggle momentarily to meet the challenge in his friend’s eyes before smirking at them all, “you’re all more than welcome to try.”
///
Oikawa and Hanamaki are standing back to survey Matsukawa’s handiwork as he moves. The soft ropes cross Iwaizumi’s body, a harness coming smoothly together. The large point of a star nestles between his pecs, two points touch his shoulders and two rest at either side of the base of his neck. A diamond pattern crosses across the rest of his torso. He’s humming with the energy of staying still as Matsukawa loops and ties down his torso and then circles back to bind his arms together and then to the back of the harness. The three of them watch as Iwaizumi tests the hold of the tie that has his arms resting crossed on the middle of his back.
“Holy shit,” Hanamaki’s breath escapes in a huff.
Oikawa nods in agreement, a dazed look in his eyes as he stares at his boyfriend. The diamonds are large enough to frame his pecs, his hips, and even his ass. A shudder seems to work its way through him and a blush flares high on his cheeks when he realizes their eyes are glued to him and that the bindings will hold, green eyes flashing between Matsukawa and Hanamaki.
“If I didn’t know better, Issei, I’d say this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”
A rumbling chuckle is the only reply Iwaizumi gets before Hanamaki is standing in front of him, finger tracing the rope star. Grey eyes flit to Matsukawa as if Hanamaki doesn’t dare act out of turn.
“May I?”
“Not if you aren’t going to use your manners Hiro.”
Hanamaki huffs, a full pout on his face, “may I, sir?”
Matsukawa grins, smile as sharp as a new blade, “you may, such a good boy for asking nicely.”
Hanamaki looks like he wants to argue that point but doesn’t, instead he uses the bottom point of the star to tug Iwaizumi to his knees.
“What? Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about us,” Hanamaki quips.
Iwaizumi shakes his head stubbornly, blush crawling to his ears and down his neck. Hanamaki’s chuckle proves it’s noticeable. Matsukawa trails a finger along Iwaizumi’s jaw before cupping his chin, tracing his lower lip with his thumb before pressing down. Iwaizumi surprises them all when his eyes fall closed and mouth falls open on a breathy whine.
His semi-surprised eyes are hazy when he blinks them back open, like he hadn’t expected that reaction any more than they had. Matsukawa lets an easy smile slide across his face, pressing down with his thumb the same time he tips back Iwaizumi’s chin with the rest of his hand.
“If that’s true, why are you letting us do this Hajime? Why did what Hiro said make you blush so much, hmm?” His hand tightens on Iwaizumi’s jaw, a sharp glint in his eyes, “no more lies. You know better, don’t you?”
Iwaizumi’s eyes flutter closed again as he tries for a jerky nod despite the hold on his jaw.
“That’s not an answer, Hajime,” Matsukawa nearly purrs. “You know better than to try to lie, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
Confusion colors Iwaizumi’s deep green eyes before he’s nodding, eyes wide, “yes sir.”
Matsukawa nods with a smile, “good.”
“We use the stoplight system, is that okay with both of you?” Hanamaki asks, looking toward Oikawa and Iwaizumi. He receives nods from both though Oikawa looks confused.
“We?” Oikawa questions, looking between his friends.
“We,” Hanamaki nods as he gestures between himself and Matsukawa.
“As in?”
“As in we spend half our date nights debating the merits of movies and he spends the other half wrecking me.”
“If he’s actually good and deserves it,” Matsukawa adds with a smirk. He shifts his attention back to Iwaizumi, “color?”
“Green.”
“Now I need you to understand, if I ask for your color and you can’t or won’t answer me then it’s an immediate yellow. Do you understand?”
Iwaizumi nods in agreement.
“I want the words.”
“I understand,” Iwaizumi sighs.
Matsukawa waits with a raised eyebrow and a mildly disappointed expression.
“I understand, sir.”
Matsukawa hums his approval and the smile on Hanamaki’s face is wicked. They both look over at Oikawa, twin raised eyebrows at him.
“You gonna help us take him apart, Tooru?” Hanamaki chuckles.
“Or are you just planning on watching, your highness?” Matsukawa deadpans, sharpness glittering in his eyes.
Oikawa crosses the space and crouches down to his boyfriend, raining kisses up Iwaizumi’s neck and tracing his lips with a single finger.
“If I had known you could be like this, we would have done this before.”
Iwaizumi’s answer is a sharp nip to Oikawa’s fingers.
Matsukawa’s fingers wind into Iwaizumi’s hair, tipping his head back in a second with a single growled word on his lips.
“Behave.”
The sharp tug on his hair has another whine escaping Iwaizumi’s mouth, earning him another dark chuckle.
“I didn’t know you were so sensitive, Hajime.”
Apparently none of them did because his answering whimper stops all three of them in their tracks. Matsukawa squeezes lube onto his hand, warming it with one while tapping the bottle against Hanamaki’s shoulder.
“How about you go let Tooru prep you? And Hiro,” he tips Hanamaki’s chin up to meet his eyes, “be good.”
The look on Hanamaki’s face says he’d really like to stick his tongue out, but he doesn’t. He simply sidles over to Oikawa and extends the lube to him.
“You have to take your clothes off first,” Oikawa teases.
Hanamaki crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “or what Tooru?” He asks, otherwise unmoving.
“Clothes off, Hanamaki,” Oikawa tries again in his respectable captain voice.
No reaction. Hanamaki doesn’t even look like he registers being spoken to.
“Oh?” Oikawa’s eyes narrow, “you don’t want it then. Guess I won’t prep you then.”
Hanamaki shrugs flippantly, “I’m not the one who told you to do it.”
“I’m aware.”
Hanamaki’s grin is sharp when he narrows his eyes right back, “I’m used to the punishment for misbehaving, are you?”
Tooru pales a bit and glowers at Hanamaki, “setting me up are you?”
“Just choke him a little, Tooru.” Matsukawa interrupts with a long suffering sigh, “it’s the only way he learns. Isn’t that right, Hiro?”
Hanamaki’s eyes skirt over to acknowledge the statement before he nods, the wicked grin back in place.
“Choke him?” Oikawa’s mouth hangs open a bit, “but what if it’s too much?”
“He’ll let you know. Two taps mean loosen up, or you can back off a bit and check in. I wouldn’t tell you to do something we haven’t done.” Matsukawa smiles a bit at his friend’s concern before glaring at Hanamaki, “second of all, that’s not an answer Hiro, try again.”
“Yes,” Hanamaki bats his eyes at the both of them and while Oikawa smiles softly, Matsukawa nearly growls.
Matsukawa backs away from Iwaizumi and stalks over to his other friends. He flattens his clean hand against Hanamaki’s chest before wrapping his shirt in his fist to pull him close, “I think the words you’re looking for are ‘yes sir.’ Tooru’s being very patient with you. Unless you wanna sit out and watch the three of us, I suggest you stop being such a brat.”
He pulls his hand back but refuses to back away, “one more chance Hiro, isn’t that right?”
There’s a flash of defiance in Hanamaki’s silver eyes before he turns back to Oikawa and tips his head back to bare his neck, “yes sir.”
Matsukawa nods and looks to Tooru, eyes daring him to say words he’s probably only heard before. He knows a challenge will be all it takes.
True to form, Oikawa smirks at the look before turning back to Hanamaki, hand already wrapping around his throat, “good boy. Color?”
“Green,” Hanamaki meets the determined look on Oikawa’s face with a grin of his own.
Matsukawa takes another dab of lube and turns back to Iwaizumi, clean hand sliding along the rope over his shoulder, “I’m sorry about that, I should’ve known he’d try to give Tooru a hard time.”
He loops his hand into the ropes between Iwaizumi’s shoulder blades with a gentle forward shove to situate him with his ass in the air. He doesn’t let go of his hold as he returns to warming the lube on his fingers, reaching down to slowly circle a finger around his entrance, silently willing Iwaizumi to relax.
“Stop teasing,” Iwaizumi bites out, shifting back the small bit he can.
“I think you like the teasing,” Matsukawa presses in just enough to earn a gasp before retreating.
“Fucking get on with it.” Another attempt to rock back but Matsukawa just shifts with him, pressing down to hold him in place. “I thought you all wanted to wreck me,” Iwaizumi snaps.
“If you don’t like the teasing, Hajime,” Matsukawa’s smirk is evident in his tone, “then why are you dripping?”
There’s a collective gasp in the room and Matsukawa uses the momentary distraction to sink his finger all the way in, reveling in the muffled curse it pulls from Iwaizumi.
“Color, Hajime?”
“Green,” Iwaizumi huffs out on shaky breaths.
Matsukawa hums, working his finger slowly, pressing and stretching, adding another when Iwaizumi whines for it. Waiting for Iwaizumi to acclimate to a third, they both train their eyes on their partners who are oddly silent except for the lewd squelch of lube.
The determination on Oikawa’s face says that he’s dead set on making Hanamaki beg for what he’s getting; if the bite marks and hickies already littering Hanamaki’s shoulders are any indication, he’s not afraid to do whatever it takes to get it. Despite his stubborn silence, Hanamaki is rocking back, meeting every single movement Oikawa makes, lip clamped tight between his teeth like he’d rather die than admit being taken apart. After a shared look with Iwaizumi, Matsukawa decides to break the silence.
“Gods Hiro, fucking yourself on Tooru’s hand already? Such a needy, naughty little slut, aren’t you?”
Hanamaki’s eyes snap to Matsukawa’s, pupils widening and a blush spreading down his neck and across his chest at the slightly disapproving tone.
“And you’re not even just a slut for me now, are you? You don’t even have to say anything to be practically begging for it from Tooru like I didn’t fuck you senseless already today.”
Oikawa’s eyes widen like he’s about to say something, probably to tell Matsukawa to not be quite so rude, but whatever he was about to say is completely dwarfed by the begging that spills over Hanamaki’s lips the second he opens his mouth.
“Please, please, please don’t stop. Fuck, how are you so good at this?”
Oikawa looks up, wide-eyed, “what?”
“Hiro,” Matsukawa’s command seems to stop Hanamaki in his tracks, slicing through the begging words, “you’re only allowed to come on Hajime’s dick. Do you understand me?”
“Y- yes.”
“Yes what, Hiro?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Hiro,” Matsukawa makes quick eye contact with Oikawa. With a shake of his head Oikawa halts his hand, smirking at the strangled curses his lack of movement pulls from Hanamaki.
Hanamaki’s eyes flash, baring his teeth in frustration, “what do you want?”
“Manners Hiro.”
There seems to be a silent power struggle between them before Hanamaki huffs, “Yes I understand, sir.”
Another nod has Oikawa’s hand moving again amid another flood of stuttered curses and moans.
Matsukawa returns his attention to the task at hand and twists his fingers in Iwaizumi, grounding them both back to what they’re doing. Iwaizumi practically growls at the sudden movement.
“Look at you,” Matsukawa hums, scissoring and curling his fingers in exactly the right place to make Iwaizumi arch against the ropes, “you take my fingers so well, don’t you?”
The arch is accompanied by a whimpered whine; a nod is all the response Iwaizumi seems to be capable of, rocking back the small amount he’s allowed.
Matsukawa cocks an eyebrow down at his friend, halting his movements, “Hajime, you were being so good. I asked you a question.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
The choked moan that greets him curling his fingers again is enough to send a shiver up his spine.
“Good boy. You’re being so good for me,” Matsukawa soothes, pressing in with a fourth finger before turning to where Oikawa is teasingly taking Hanamaki apart. “Unlike someone I know.”
“Makki,” Oikawa chuckles, hauling Hanamaki up until his back is pressed against his chest, sliding his fingers away when he does, “I think he’s talking about you.”
“He l-likes me being a-a brat,” Hanamaki whines, hips canting backward at the loss.
“Tooru, Hiro, come here,” Matsukawa says easily, twisting his fingers and scissoring them one more time before pulling away, leaving Iwaizumi clenching around nothing with a gasp. He pulls Iwaizumi up to sit on his knees in front of him, steadying him before circling around to crouch and tip Iwaizumi’s chin up to meet his eyes.
“Listen to me Hajime.”
Iwaizumi nods his head with a hummed, “yes sir.” He surprises them all by resting his chin in Matsukawa’s hand with a glazed-over smile.
“Tooru is going to fuck you,” Iwaizumi’s eyes flash open incredulously. “Shh,” Matsukawa runs his thumb placatingly over Iwaizumi’s lips, “you’re going to fuck Hiro, and I’m going to fuck your mouth. Does that sound good to you?”
Iwaizumi’s eyes are wide pools of green, apprehension flashing for a second before another nod answers the question.
“That’s not an answer, Hajime.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Such a good boy,” Matsukawa hums, running a hand through Iwaizumi’s hair. “What’s your color?”
“Green.”
Matsukawa nods to Oikawa and Hanamaki, the other men taking the places they were given. Oikawa wastes no time tracing the diamonds mapped by the rope when he settles himself into the space behind his boyfriend. Hanamaki takes up a position on his hands and knees in front of Iwaizumi with a grin.
“Are you planning on doing something Issei, or are you resisting the urge to boss us around some more?” Hanamaki sasses with a wiggle of his hips from where he perched himself.
“The only thing I’m resisting is the urge to fuck Hajime’s pretty face, Hiro.” Matsukawa plants his feet on either side of Hanamaki, standing over him with a smirk.
“Iss, don’t be so hard on him. He’s not used to you like I am,” Hanamaki chides with a huff at his boyfriend.
“You don’t have to be gentle with me, I won’t break,” Iwaizumi snaps from between his three friends.
“Be careful what you wish for, Hajime,” Hanamaki sighs.
Matsukawa leans down again, pressing a plastic button into Iwaizumi’s hand, “during this you won’t always be able to tell us a color or tap us to let up, push the clicker if you need us to stop. It acts as your yellow and your red. Do you understand me?”
His response is a solid nod, “yes, sir.”
“And what’s your color?”
“Green.”
Oikawa threads his fingers into the rope at his boyfriend’s waist and leans forward to trail open-mouthed kisses up Iwaizumi’s neck, along his pulse, “do you know how amazing you look right now? All tied up and nowhere to go.”
Oikawa hums and leaves a sharp nip at his boyfriend’s ear, using the hold to press in just a little too fast. Iwaizumi gasps and his hips cant forward without his permission, nudging against Hanamaki. Hanamaki wastes no time rocking back and sheaths Iwaizumi in one go; his hiss indicating that he immediately thinks better of it. Iwaizumi practically chokes on his inhale and Oikawa traces the rope diamonds across his boyfriend’s torso, shushing him gently and peppering kisses across his shoulders.
Matsukawa shifts, digging his shins into Hanamaki’s hips, “Hiro, who told you that you could move?”
A stuttered whine is the only response he receives as Hanamaki struggles to acclimate.
“Thought so. Now stay still if you want to play.”
Matsukawa tips Iwaizumi’s head back to meet his eyes, “relax, Hajime. What’s your color?”
A slightly panicked whimper escapes Iwaizumi’s throat.
“Yellow,” is Matsukawa’s seamless reply. Even Hanamaki holds stock still at the decision. Matsukawa crouches as much as he can to put himself on Iwaizumi’s level, “hey, breathe Hajime.”
Iwaizumi’s eyes flash apprehension and he bites his lip, still struggling to catch his breath. Matsukawa’s thumb eases his lip out from between his teeth.
“Take a breath,” he demands gently, cupping Iwaizumi’s jaw.
Oikawa snakes his arms around Iwaizumi’s torso to lay his hands against his chest over the rapidfire beating of his heart, “we’ve got you.”
Seconds tick by as Iwaizumi relaxes bit by bit, enough to take a shaky gasp of breath.
“Again,” Matsukawa demands.
Another shaky inhale, then two, then three, until the apprehension has left Iwaizumi’s face and a sort of glazed look has taken over his eyes.
“What’s your color?”
“Green, sir” Iwaizumi smiles at the word, gently knocking his temple against Oikawa’s.
“So very good,” Matsukawa smirks as Oikawa untangles himself from the mess of limbs he created. “Take one more breath for me.”
“While you still can.” Hanamaki quips, shaking in his attempt to stay still.
Matsukawa sighs, moving to crouch in front of Hanamaki and winding his hand into his boyfriend’s hair to pull his head sharply back.
“I don’t recall asking you for your input, Takahiro.”
Hanamaki stares him down, smug smirk on his face.
“Nothing smart to say now?” Matsukawa glares.
Hanamaki shakes his head as much as he can, expression morphing effortlessly into feigned innocence.
“Okay then, pretty boy. For the honesty, you’re still allowed to cum tonight. For speaking and acting without permission it’ll be untouched and only when I say. This is Hajime’s scene, not yours. This isn’t for you. Think you can manage that, my little brat?”
Hanamaki glares, the silence in the room broken only by Iwaizumi’s shaky breaths and Oikawa’s soothing whispers against his boyfriend’s skin.
“Hiro. Answer me or you’re done in this scene.”
Hanamaki rolls his eyes but huffs out, “yes, sir.”
“What’s your color Hiro?”
“Green, sir.”
Matsukawa unwinds his fingers and returns to his place, making sure to press his shins against Hanamaki’s sides tight enough that he won’t be able to move much at all.
“So, Hajime?” Matsukawa waits until his friend’s eyes focus on him, “what’s your color?”
Iwaizumi blinks away some of the haze in his eyes before answering, “green.”
“Good boy,” Matsukawa nods to Oikawa.
Oikawa threads his hands gently into the ropes sitting high on his boyfriend’s hips as he shifts back and then presses forward much more slowly than before. A litany of praise accompanies kisses pressed to the back of Iwaizumi’s neck and nips to his shoulders every time he tenses. Oikawa builds a rhythm and each forward snap of his hips has Iwaizumi sinking forward into Hanamaki with a gasp before his eyes flutter shut altogether, content to allow Oikawa to do all of the work.
Matsukawa keeps his hold on Iwaizumi’s jaw, tightening his grip to get his attention, “Hajime?” Iwaizumi’s eyes flash open with a deep breath, his chest heaving. “You still with us?”
“Mmhmm,” is more of a hum than an intentional statement.
“That’s not an answer, Hajime.”
“Yessir,” Iwaizumi nearly slurs with a pleasure drunk look on his face.
“What’s your color?”
It takes a minute for the haze in his eyes to clear enough for him to process the question, “green. Is green.”
“Do you still have your clicker?”
“Yessir.”
“Okay then,” Matsukawa smirks. He releases his hold on Iwaizumi’s jaw to shift down his pants just enough while studying the wide-eyed reaction he gets from Iwaizumi. Unsurprisingly, it’s Oikawa who breaks the silence.
“You didn’t have those the last time we saw you naked,” his eyes glued to the six equidistant barbells running up the underside of Matsukawa’s dick.
“Considering the last time you saw me naked was in high school,” Matsukawa shrugs with a smirk.
Iwaizumi still hasn’t seemed to recover, blinking repeatedly.
“Hey,” Matsukawa snags Iwazumi’s attention by tipping his chin up, “are you sure you want to do this?”
“Keep your tongue over your lower teeth,” Hanamaki offers.
Iwaizumi just nods and grins before letting his mouth fall open. It’s almost like a challenge, like he wants to see how far his friends are willing to push him. Matsukawa doesn’t back down, simply threading his hand into Iwaizumi’s hair and pressing into his mouth with a barely muffled moan.
Iwaizumi’s eyes float closed with a hum.
“Eyes on me, Hajime,” Matsukawa growls out.
Green eyes meet his, fighting to push the haze back.
“So good for us, you listen so well,” Matsukawa gasps as he pulls back again.
A rhythm isn’t easy to come by at first, but after a cursory handful of searching thrusts, Matsukawa finds and respects Iwaizumi’s limit, Oikawa perfects his aim and angle and Hanamaki refuses to sit still and take it anymore, fucking back against what’s given to him.
Iwaizumi keens. Or he would if his mouth wasn’t stuffed full. Tears drip out of his hazy green eyes and saliva down his chin. Any thought of him being in any sort of control of the situation begins and ends in the rhythm the other three have found without any input from him at all.
Hanamaki lets out a high whine, “I’m gonn-”
“No,” Matsukawa snaps at him.
A panicked whine echoes over the harsh breathing, skin on skin, and moans.
“Iss-” he attempts to argue, squirming to try and find an angle that isn’t quite so intense.
“Did you not hear me? I said no,” is ground out between clenched teeth from above him.
“B-but I can’t-”
“You can and you will.”
A whine and growl meld together in response as Hanamaki squeezes his eyes shut.
“Be good, Hiro.”
The glare Hanamaki sends over his shoulder is nearly murderous but he bites his lip and screws his eyes shut again in protest.
Iwaizumi nearly wails again at a well aimed thrust from Oikawa and Matsukawa decides it's as good a time as any to push Iwaizumi just to see how far he can.
He buries himself in Iwaizumi’s mouth, gasping at the way that despite the fact that his throat is fighting him, gagging around him, but Iwaizumi isn’t. A new wash of tears spills from the green eyes locked on his. That look of complete trust and the feeling of Iwaizumi gagging around him is enough to send him over the edge with a groan.
Even after he pulls away, Iwaizumi is the perfect picture of submission, mouth still open wide and eyes on him.
“You gonna swallow that?” Matsukawa asks, petting through the spikes of Iwaizumi’s hair.
Iwaizumi does and almost lets his mouth fall open again when Matsukawa shakes his head, cupping Iwaizumi’s jaw. “I want you to focus on how you feel now. You’ve earned it. You’ve been so good for us, let us make you feel good.”
“I want-” Hanamaki starts.
“You’re not even attempting to ask nicely, Hiro,” Matsukawa chides, hands and mouth wandering Iwaizumi’s body, littering teasing touches and bites.
“Please? Please, please, please let me-” Hanamaki is quick to allow the pleas to drip off his tongue.
Matsukawa makes eye contact with Oikawa, whose edges seem frayed, like he’s hanging on by a few threads at most.
“Shh, baby, listen to me,” Matsukawa rests his hand on Hanamaki’s hip with a squeeze to ground him. “It’s up to Tooru, not me. How long you have to hold out is up to how long he does.”
Oikawa’s eyes blow wide but he smirks with the challenge, especially when Hanamaki turns his head, eyes wide and glazed with tears. Hanamaki doesn’t dignify that with an answer, just blinks his tear-filled eyes at Matsukawa.
“Don’t look at me like that, Hiro; no playing dirty. What’s your color, baby?”
“Green, sir,” Hanamaki grits through clenched teeth.
Iwaizumi’s forehead falls to Matsukawa’s stomach, leaning into him with a whine. He pets through Iwaizumi’s hair with a smile.
“That good, huh?”
A stifled sigh is the only answer to the question.
Matsukawa’s fingers grip dark spikes to pull his head back sharply, “that was a question Hajime,” he gently chides to the hazy eyes looking back at him.
Iwaizumi’s brows furrow like he’s trying to remember being asked anything at all.
“That good, huh?” Matsukawa asks again, searching Iwaizumi’s eyes to see how deep he is.
“Mmhmm, yes.”
“Yes?” Fingers grip tighter and Iwaizumi responds with a hiss, a flash of grounded irritation cutting through the haze momentarily.
“Yes, sir.”
‘Good boy,“ he soothes, petting through his hair. “Now, let’s see if they can finish taking you apart before they fall apart themselves.”
Oikawa glares at Matsukawa but shifts the angle of his hips enough that it would have sent Iwaizumi tumbling forward if not for the vicious hold he has on the rope. As it is, it sends him face first back against Matsukawa with a muffled shout that is as breathless as it is strangled.
Oikawa lets him lean for a second before he pulls him back, one hand pressed to his heaving chest and the other still tangled in the rope across his back. He hooks his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulder for a few breaths, pace easy and slow, almost teasing.
“He doesn’t stand a chance,” Oikawa chuckles, trailing kisses up his boyfriend’s neck to concentrate on the space right below the angle of his jaw.
Iwaizumi’s head drops back onto Oikawa’s shoulder, wide green hazy eyes meeting his, breathing harder if that were even possible.
“I’ve got you baby,” OIkawa adjusts his angle again with a smirk, “try to keep up Makki.”
Any attempt at a rhythm before this was evidently child’s play because now it’s downright vicious. Iwaizumi keens, nonsense pleas falling from his mouth and Hanamaki lets out a panicked shriek.
Matsukawa makes sure Oikawa’s hold on Iwaizumi is solid before moving to sit cross-legged in front of his boyfriend. He traces the errant tear tracks with a smile, resting his palm against a flushed cheek to ground him.
A litany of curses sounds from above them and Matsukawa vaguely thinks that he’s never seen something quite so gorgeous as Iwaizumi leaning heavily back against Oikawa and begging for just a little more, a familiar tension winding through both of them.
He brushes Hanamaki’s hair out of his face, “go ahead, love.”
It’s like a chain reaction. Hanamaki falls face first into his lap, arms completely collapsing under the force of his shaking. He watches the tension roll through all three of them back to back, three wordless cries mingling. He watches as they fuck each other through it, petting over Hanamaki’s hair and murmuring praise to Iwaizumi and Oikawa in turn.
He watches the exhaustion start to settle over all of them and he pulls Hanamaki fully into his lap at the same time as Oikawa settles back, taking Iwaizumi with him. He finds himself mindlessly murmuring apologies and soothing words, petting down Hanamaki’s back, when he receives a hiss in return. He grabs his bag and rummages for the blanket he brought and wraps Hanamaki in it before wrapping him in a hug, “what’s your color, love?”
“ ‘S green. You know I’d’ve stopped you, have before.”
“I know love. Let's get you two taken care of.”
He settles Hanamaki to sit and leans Iwaizumi to lay against his lap, starting in on all the knots.
“Hajime, were we too rough with you?” Matsukawa asks, slowly untying the rope from where he had ended working back to the start.
Iwaizumi shakes his head from where he’s laying with his head on Hanamaki's blanket-wrapped lap, the haze having not retreated from his eyes at all.
Oikawa examines his forearms, massaging blood flow back into them, “I think you’re going to have some explaining to do about all this bruising though. You really shouldn’t have pulled so hard, you tested it. You knew it would hold.”
Hanamaki shakes his head, “I’m surprised he fought it at all, he slipped into subspace so easily.”
“You could learn a thing or two from him,” Matsukawa jokingly gently his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“In an alternate universe, he could be the perfect sub,” Oikawa hums as he sweeps Iwaizumi’s hair away from his forehead.
“I’m gonna tell him you said that,” Hanamaki jokes.
“Control your sub,” Oikawa fusses at Matsukawa.
“Oh no, I’m not his outside of the scene. He can’t tell me what to do,” Hanamaki corrects with a smirk.
“I mean you didn’t hard limit 24/7 play when we talked about it,” Matsukawa points out with a kiss to the top of his head.
“Din’t need to know that,” Iwaizumi snarks from his place in Hanamaki’s lap.
“Inquiring minds want to know, Hajime,” Hanamaki smirks tiredly. “Did we, or did we not wreck you?”
The silence they receive in response is more of an answer than anything he could have said.