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“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa’s voice slithered down the phone line, slick as quicksilver, more than enough to send shivers walking up Iwaizumi’s spine and tingles erupting over his scalp. “Can I tell you something?”
“You called to ask about the homework, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi replied shortly. “And I just explained it to you. Do you get it? Can I go now?”
“But I have to tell you something!” Oikawa whined; Iwaizumi could just picture him sprawled over his bed, head hanging over the edge and his stupid mussed hair in tangles after he undoubtedly took a nap when he was supposed to be working -
“I don’t care, Oikawa, I have better things to do than listen to you bitch about girls or - I don’t know, Ushijima Wakatoshi or whatever it is you’re hating on the most right now.”
“You’re so cruel to me.” Iwaizumi snorted at that. “All I try to do is be nice, and here you are, saying all I want to do is talk shit on Ushiwaka! Which, you know, I do, but that’s beside the point. Do you like Ushiwaka, Iwa-chan?”
“Of course I don’t, what are you -,”
“Because I could just get him to fuck me instead.”
Iwaizumi stopped dead in his tracks, as though his body had been turned to heavy, immoveable stone. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“I said,” Oikawa purred, “that I could get Ushiwaka to fuck me instead of you. If you’re going to be cruel to me like this.” Iwaizumi could practically hear the snide smile on Oikawa’s lips, the way he was wrapping the phone cord around his finger (because the Oikawas’ house still had landlines with cords). “I could do it easily enough. Ushiwaka may be a good volleyball player, but he’s thick as two posts. It wouldn’t take much… a half-smile and gentle eyes, eyelashes fluttering and lips pouting… I could wear little shorts, since everyone knows he’s got a thing for legs, or I could invite him somewhere as a peace offering - somewhere that meant we need to catch a train together, a busy one, so I could press up to him or grind against him by accident. I could even stand with my back to him, Iwa-chan, and press my ass to his crotch, did you ever think about that? I haven’t, but it’s a very good idea. Hm. A very good idea. Especially when I could start to grind against him that way, pretending it was the swaying of the train. I’d feel him grow hard, and he’d make those disconcerted little grunts like he does whenever we score a point in a match, and then - bam! - I could really throw myself against him when we come into a stop, and I could ‘accidentally’ let out a little moan. A good idea, right? What do you think?”
Iwaizumi didn’t think anything. He couldn’t think. All he saw was Oikawa smirking like a cat and rubbing his body wanly against Ushijima’s, wearing that pair of tiny blue shorts he’d had since middle school. “You’re fucked in the head, that’s what I think.”
“Now now, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa continued, but his voice was different now. It was deeper, breathier, and implied hooded eyes and a slender hand inching its way down towards the line of his waistband. “Don’t be like that. I haven’t finished telling you my plan. I think dear Ushiwaka would be so mad and aroused by the time we got to the station he’d punch me… but I don’t think he’d ever do that, right? So - and this is what I think, Iwa-chan - he’d drag me into the toilets and push me into a stall, right up against the wall before fucking me nice and hard.” Iwaizumi listened to him sigh wistfully. “Delicious. Imagine his thick, wet cock sliding into my ass… so heavy and hot, his breath in my ear and his teeth on my neck…” he broke off with a squeak and Iwaizumi knew his hand was in his pants by now.
“Are you seriously getting off on this?” Iwaizumi demanded flatly, even though his own neck was flushed and he was growing a little damp under the collar. “You sick bastard.”
Oikawa just moaned.
“Don’t you move an inch, Oikawa Tooru, or I’ll shove your head so far up your ass you’ll be strangled by your own goddamn intestines.”
He threw his phone across the room, grabbing his jacket, fuming. His mother watched him as he thundered past the living room, confused and shocked as to why he was so angry, and watched him wordlessly as he attempted to jam his feet into his shoes.
The walk from Iwaizumi’s home to Oikawa’s was not a long one, but it was long enough for Iwaizumi to think over what he was going to do. His anger cooled a little, and he realised that he’d walked out the door without so much as a clue as to what he was actually going to do. Fucking Oikawa - he was probably still fumbling down his pants thinking about Ushijima ploughing him in some gross train station bathroom. It made Iwaizumi livid to even imagine it happening; each crunch of the packed dirt road under his feet made him even more agitated. Oikawa had slipped into a bad habit of teasing him like this, and he’d had enough of it. It was time for Iwaizumi to shut Oikawa up, and to shut him up good.
Oikawa’s front door was open, leaving Iwaizumi to let himself in and slam it behind him; he had no reason to sneak up on Oikawa. He already knew he was coming, and he knew Iwaizumi was mad. Iwaizumi traipsed up the stairs, right to Oikawa’s bedroom, flinging open to door and finding Oikawa sprawled out just as he’d expected, one hand down his pants, already slick with precum. “Get up.”
Oikawa blinked those big brown eyes at him before getting quickly to his feet, cock rubbing against the insides of his shorts and making him feel a little antsy. Iwaizumi gripped Oikawa’s jaw in one hand, pulling him down so their faces were little more than a breath apart. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Asskawa,” he growled as he watched Oikawa’s pupils dilate. “You’re being a little fucking shit.”
“But you love it, Hajime.”
And that was it.
Oikawa was down, having been shoved back onto his bed by Iwaizumi who threw his whole weight against the setter’s shoulders, pinning him down, strong legs weighted against Oikawa’s and rendering him essentially immobile. Oikawa’s cock strained against the front of his shorts, leaking, a dark sticky mess beginning to spread out along the fabric. The tiniest pause fluttered between them as Iwaizumi looked down at how achingly hard Oikawa already was.
“Be careful, you’ll tear them!” Oikawa yelped as Iwaizumi gripped his waistband and whipped his shorts clean off his legs, flinging them into some obscure corner of the room. He scraped his nails up the sides of Oikawa’s body as he tugged and pulled at his shirt, watching as Oikawa wriggled around in assistance, eyes on fire and skin rising obscenely. He pressed Oikawa’s thighs back so his knees were near his chin, the slid down his body so he was face-to-face with the setter’s hard, dripping cock.
He drew a finger up it, first, from his perineum right to the tip, causing Oikawa to shiver violently and make an adorable little mewing sound. Iwaizumi pressed the knuckles of his fingers to the underside of Oikawa’s balls, kneading and then using his fingers to roll them against his palms. Oikawa’s lips parted in a succulent moan, fingers scratching lines up the pale lengths of his own thighs. Iwaizumi’s fingers were replaced with a hot, twisting tongue that lathed all the way up his cock, pressing in around the head and dipping, stroking, sucking just the way Iwaizumi knew Oikawa liked. There was a certain series of steps Iwaizumi followed that stroked Oikawa’s libido in just the right way; it turned him into one huge sopping mess, into a man with the consistency of melted rubber. It was glorious to watch.
“Drawer,” Iwaizumi demanded, and Oikawa reached out to fumble in the drawer of his end table, producing a half-full bottle of lubricant, which he slid over the rumpled sheets to Iwaizumi. The ace flicked it open with one hand, his mouth still on Oikawa’s cock and still eliciting wondrous noises from deep in his chest, squirting some onto his fingers and over Oikawa’s hole. It was wet already, soft and spongy and pink, perfect and appetising. Iwaizumi massaged it open, slipping in a finger right up to the knuckle, rubbing it around inside Oikawa until he squirmed and pushed down for more. Iwaizumi added a second finger, his penetration punctuated by a decisive swipe of his tongue over the head of Oikawa’s cock; he was rewarded with a throaty gasp for that one. He pushed his fingers deeper inside, turning his hand palm-up and curling his fingers until he could feel that engorged little nub hidden inside Oikawa’s body, the one that made him shake and cry with need, rolling his hips down onto Iwaizumi’s fingers - now three - in an attempt to get him to go deeper, to rub against his insides more…
“Disgusting,” Iwaizumi spat, though he was thoroughly enjoying how Oikawa’s face grew steadily redder, bright vermillion under his fingers as he moaned into his fist. “You get so hard when I pry you open like this. What would the team think if they knew you liked having fingers thrust up your ass like this? What would all those pretty girls do if they knew how much you liked getting fucked by dicks? What if they knew how you slobbered over them, how you begged to have a cock in your mouth and cum down your throat…? What if they knew you loved it?” He scraped his fingers over Oikawa’s prostate again, dragging a heavy sigh from the setter’s lips.
Oikawa, of course, didn’t answer. Iwaizumi’s question had been purely rhetorical, and he would never have expected Oikawa to answer it solidly anyway - there was no way he could, not in his current state. Iwaizumi would have been surprised if he could string together a semi-comprehensible sentence by that point. Oikawa quivered beneath his fingers, squirming and wriggling and trying to push himself around to make Iwaizumi touch him more, and as his breath came faster and shorter Iwaizumi felt him draw up tight around his fingers, the setter’s cock throbbing in his hand, and after delivering a firm, tight stroke to Oikawa’s cock he backed off, leaving Oikawa to yell hoarsely as his hips jerked up without release. Iwaizumi, still wearing his uniform, felt up around his neck and slid his necktie from his collar.
He knew Oikawa would have asked ‘what are you doing?’ if he could actually speak, but since he couldn’t even open his eyes Iwaizumi had little trouble slinging the fabric around Oikawa’s cock and fastening it tightly at the base. There was something strangely alluring about the school necktie laced around a star student’s cock like that - it made Iwaizumi’s stomach draw in close to his spine, and his own dick get a little harder.
Oikawa let out a choked gasp in response to his new accessory, the sudden pain and intense pressure helping him regain a little coherency. “Iwa - ? What are you - oh, no, no, I need to cum - you - you were gonna make me cum, and you just - Haj -,” and again his thought was gone, back arching off the mattress and hips jutting at the air in search of some - any - friction that could relieve him. Iwaizumi, of course, was having none of it.
With strong hands he gripped Oikawa’s hips and manhandled him onto his stomach, nails digging into skin and Oikawa dragging himself along his bed as soon as he got the chance, painful, ripe groans pouring from between his teeth, viscous and palpable like the juice from a burst fruit. Iwaizumi freed his own cock, on the verge of cumming right then and there just at the sight of Oikawa positioned with his ass in the air and his face buried in the sheets, lithe back arched and wiggling his hips, begging Iwaizumi to dick him very, very hard. Iwaizumi groaned, slicking his lubed up fist along the length of his cock, teasing it over Oikawa’s flushed, swollen hole. “It’s so pretty,” Iwaizumi crooned with a sneer as he hooked a thumb into Oikawa’s entrance and stretched him open to see the glistening flesh he’d soon be absolutely pulverising. “I’m looking forward to ruining it.”
He didn’t ease in. He didn’t let Oikawa adjust to his girth. Iwaizumi’s cock wasn’t necessarily long, but it was thick and robust and reached all the places it needed to. Usually Oikawa took a few minutes to be able to accommodate him fully and comfortably, but Iwaizumi wasn’t going to give him the chance. He took hold of Oikawa’s hips, yanking his body back until he was fully seated on Iwaizumi’s cock. At first Oikawa was completely silent, his whole body trembling. Soon enough a breathless, almost nervous little gasp crawled out of his throat, and he shuddered and buried his fists in his hair.
Iwaizumi pulled out, then slammed back in. He put all his power behind his thrusts, looking down to see Oikawa’s supple hips bouncing up and down on his cock, skin slippery and wet and a mix of precum and lube smearing over his thighs. It was a truly decadent sight. He set a relentless pace, bending his body over Oikawa’s and using his lower body strength to ram into him over and over again so furiously that the bottom end of the fitted sheets slipped up over the mattress.
“Don’t you dare,” Iwaizumi chuckled, swatting Oikawa’s hands away as they itched down towards his tied cock. He snatched Oikawa’s hands and pinned them above his head, needing only one of his own hands to capture both of the setter’s. He used his free hand to lever himself against Oikawa’s hips, making sure his nails scratched him enough to make him moan. And, oh, was Oikawa moaning. The noises he was making were so loud and so obscene that he would probably wake up with a sore throat - not that he’d mind, of course, when he remembered how he’d ended up that way. They were noises like hiccups, broken and jolted by the force of Iwaizumi’s relentless fucking. Iwaizumi had the ability to fuck him so well that he’d wake up in the middle of the night, front of his pants soaked with cum. He’d dream about the way Iwaizumi fucked him.
The tie around his cock wasn’t doing him any favours, though. What could have been sounds of absolute ecstasy were instead sounds of agitation, pining, and borderline pain… it still sent shots of pleasure up and down Oikawa’s spine. It still succeeded in making his skin prickle. It made him feel good in a way he didn’t completely understand; knowing that Iwaizumi had such control over him, deciding when he cums and when he doesn’t… it made him catch his lip between his teeth and let his eyes roll back into his head, Iwaizumi’s cock suddenly feeling so much bigger and so much realer inside him, pushing his guts aside and pounding, pounding, pounding against his insides. Every now and again Iwaizumi would brush teasingly over Oikawa’s prostate, knowing the exact angle he needed to hit to get to it; he mostly avoided it, knowing that the setter would erupt into full-frontal tears if he assaulted it too much, and the last thing he wanted to do was to really hurt him.
“Fuck!” he yelled, pushing Oikawa’s body down onto the bed and spreading his legs, ramming into him even harder, bending over even further to grind his body against Oikawa’s, drawing his nose up the back of his neck. His movements became smaller, but, oh, at this angle they were so much deeper, the angle suddenly right - and Iwaizumi knew it was right - and letting the engorged head of Iwaizumi’s cock press against Oikawa’s prostate again and again.
Oikawa was gyrating desperately against the sheets, rolling his hips vehemently as his mind became sloppier and sloppier and all he could think about was cumming, doing anything that could possibly bring him closer to the orgasm he so desperately craved. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, dry, soundless sobs clawing from his chest; he could barely breathe, let alone make any more sounds. He was sandwiched between Iwaizumi and the bed like a pressed flower, and it would have been hell if it hadn’t felt so good.
“Shit, Tooru,” Iwaizumi gasped against his shoulder as he pulled out and slammed back in a long, powerful thrust that had Oikawa seeing the gates of heaven. Again, again, his thrusts were strong but were becoming jerky and sporadic, his breath coming in high rasps and sweat beading on his skin as his free hand slid up Oikawa’s throat and cradled his chin, fingers wet with tears and saliva and cum. He pushed his fingers into Oikawa’s mouth and groaned as the setter sucked on them and panted fervently around them, using his tongue so he could breathe and making one big sloppy mess. “Ah,” Iwaizumi managed through ground teeth, bending his back so he could lever his strength again, burying himself completely in Oikawa’s trembling ass.
When Iwaizumi came he snarled like an animal, tipping his head back against his shoulders and laughing, a low rumble right from his diaphragm. Oikawa was so hot and tight around him, infuriatingly soft and slick but the pressure - damn, the pressure - was phenomenal, and could have quite honestly milked his dick completely dry. He listened as Oikawa blubbered and squirmed beneath him as he came deep inside him. “Shit, that’s good. Tighten up for me, baby.” He brought his hand down, snapping it over Oikawa’s ass and feeling the setter tighten up around his cock accordingly.
After he was finished blowing his load up into Oikawa’s guts, Iwaizumi pulled out and smiled as Oikawa’s hole gaped wide and messy, flushed and bruised and twitching; he couldn’t resist, and bent down to press his open mouth to it, plunging his tongue inside and meeting little to no resistance. Oikawa tasted bitter, but still somehow sweet. Iwaizumi could taste his own cum as it begun to leak out of Oikawa’s body, and dragged his tongue up the inside of the setter’s taut thigh to catch it. He remembered a time where he would never have thought he’d be lapping up his own cum as it leaked out of another guy’s asshole. Yet here he was, and he was fine with it because Oikawa’s ass was the most cock-wrenchingly sexy thing he’d seen in a long, long time. That, and the fact it capped a pair of the finest legs he’d ever fucking seen.
“You’re so loose all my cum is dribbling out,” Iwaizumi remarked coyly, plunging two of his fingers back into Oikawa and sloshing them around. It felt like wet sand or mashed fruit, hot and warm and wet.
“Hajime, please,” Oikawa gasped, his voice sounding so irrevocably heartbroken and needy that Iwaizumi’s stomach twisted up near his lungs.
It was a shame, he thought as he peered between Oikawa’s thighs at the setter’s painfully hard erection, licking his lips at the sight of thick, clear precum that linked the (almost purple) head of Oikawa’s cock to the sheets below. It had to be painful, being tied up like that, but Iwaizumi didn’t want to take the tie away. It looked so pretty, and the colour matched nicely with the dark crimson flush of Oikawa’s cock, gleaming with such copious amounts of slippery fluid. “What do you want me to do, Tooru? What should I do if I take off the tie?”
Oikawa swallowed unsteadily as Iwaizumi’s words reeled around his head like a pinwheel. “M-m,” he began, only to find that his lips trembled uncontrollably, almost to the point of complete inaudibility. “Milk me.”
“Well done, baby.” Iwaizumi smoothed his hand up along Oikawa’s spine, running the pad of his finger over the soft, soaked material of his necktie. He eased Oikawa onto his back, manoeuvring him like an invalid - which was to be expected, seeing as the setter was an utterly incoherent mess of steaming hormones - and straddling his leg, lying beside him on the tousled bed. He eased the tie from around Oikawa’s cock, dragging it slowly to maximise the painful friction that was making Oikawa bite his lip hard enough to draw blood, over his twitching balls and the width of his thigh before letting it slither to the ground. Oikawa let out a sound that was beyond perverse. It was a sound that indicated clearly enough to Iwaizumi that Oikawa was so thick in the head with carnal need that he would sink to his knees and lick Iwaizumi’s shoes if it meant he could just cum. Iwaizumi wasn’t going to get Oikawa to do that, though - maybe another time.
He rubbed the length of his body up against Oikawa’s, rough fingers toying with his flushed nipples, prying apart swollen lips and running over his tongue. He kissed his face, drawing his tongue slowly over his cheeks and the shell of his ear, nuzzling and biting along his neck and pressing a thumb to the base of his throat. “Do you want to cum?” he asked in a breathy whisper as his hand migrated lower and lower until it sat teasingly just above where Oikawa’s cock lay flat against his stomach.
“Yes! I do, please, Haijime, I want to cum.” Oikawa’s fingers grappled in his hair, over his shoulder, lips pressing clumsy open-mouthed kisses along his cheek, begging. Iwaizumi reached his fingers down, closing his hand around Oikawa’s erection and listening as Oikawa let out a shriek that nearly deafened him. He began jerking his hips furiously, thrusting up into the ace’s fist as Iwaizumi leaned on his elbow and smirked at how needy and desperate Oikawa had become.
One, two strokes. That was all it took of Iwaizumi’s calloused hand against the tender flesh of Oikawa’s cock, and the setter was coming so violently he couldn’t breathe, his back arching impossibly high off the bed and his ass clenching, thighs threatening to give out and his neck pulsing with a scream that was utterly, completely silent.
Iwaizumi didn’t ever see Oikawa pant so hard except after an official match. He rarely saw Oikawa - who was extremely fit - struggling to catch his breath like that, collapsing onto his stomach and trying to support himself on weak wobbling elbows, his whole body heaving as he tried to get air into his lungs. There was something vaguely erotic about it; Iwaizumi could look at him and think ‘I did that. I fucked him so hard he could barely breathe. That was me, I did that.’ And he felt immensely proud of himself for it, if not a little guilty.
He aided Oikawa into an easier position against the pillows, handing him the water bottle he kept on his desk and helping him take a long, exhausted drink before he darted to the bathroom to get a washcloth.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised as he ran the damp rag up Oikawa’s neck, the fabric marvelously cool against the setter’s flushed skin. He cleaned the lube and cum from Oikawa’s skin, then from his ass, and then tended to himself. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck you like that. Did I hurt you? Because if I did I’m going to catch the next train to Tokyo and I swear to -,” Iwaizumi stopped dead when he saw how Oikawa was looking at him, brown eyes wide and mouth slack, amazed.
“Iwa-chan, come here.” He patted the bed next to him, wincing slightly as he shuffled over to make room for Iwaizumi. “I’ve never been fucked so well in my entire life. That was s first, even for you.” He blushed suddenly. “I’m… I liked it. I really liked it.”
“So I didn’t hurt you?”
“No. I might be sore for a few days, but you didn’t hurt me.”
Iwaizumi hugged him in relief, pressing affectionate butterfly kisses all over his darling setter’s face, nuzzling at his hair and whispering sweet reassurances in his ear, and Oikawa giggled, squirrelling himself away into Iwaizumi’s embrace. And that’s how they stayed, with the cool air fluttering in through the window, for hours and hours as they slept off their exertion, and Iwaizumi’s last satisfied thought before he dropped off to sleep was that damn, they really should try that again.