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Iwaizumi’s always known that Kyoutani’s had some kind of hero complex with him. Ever since high school, he’s been the only person that can truly get him to sit down and listen and actually think. Yahaba had been able to handle him during their third year of high school, he’d told Iwaizumi, but it had never been in the same way that Kyoutani listened to him.
It’s endearing, really, in some ways. Kyoutani is always so eager to please Iwaizumi, the hero complex turning into something more akin to a puppy love crush or something like that. Kyoutani’s never confessed, though, nor has he ever come close to it—at least, not to Iwaizumi’s notice, that is.
Kyoutani’s gaze is heavy, his eyes somewhat lidded as he stares Iwaizumi down. They’ve been working out at the gym together, one of the rare times when their schedules had been able to align, and Kyoutani had been ecstatic to be able to spend time with him. Iwaizumi is shirtless, black tank top being shoved into the back of his duffel bag. Everything about him is on display, the two of them alone in the locker room, and Kyoutani won’t stop staring at him.
With a smirk, Iwaizumi cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “You good, Kyoutani?”
Slowly, Kyoutani nods, but his gaze stays fixed on Iwaizumi’s upper torso. He manages to break contact with it for a few seconds, his gaze flicking up to meet Iwaizumi’s, before his eyes fall down again and red is starting to spread across his cheeks and ears.
Feeling a bit bold, Iwaizumi lets out a low hum and lifts one of his arms, flexing it for Kyoutani. “You know, if you want to touch, you can.”
Kyoutani’s eyes slowly go wide. His mouth drops open a little, taking several moments to process Iwaizumi’s offer, before Kyoutani is slowly making his way over to Iwaizumi’s side. He reaches out, careful and hesitant, before his fingers curl around Iwaizumi’s triceps. He bites his lip, squeezing and massaging around the muscles, and Iwaizumi lets him. He’s used to this kind of attention.
What he’s not used to, and what he’s not expecting, is for Kyoutani to lean himself in and press his face up against the front of his armpit. He hasn’t showered yet—he smells like gym musk and sweat, probably—but Kyoutani doesn’t seem to care at all. His eyes have fallen shut and Iwaizumi watches in slight fascination as he takes a deep breath, breathing in Iwaizumi’s scent—it makes him bite his lower lip, heat starting to rise to his cheeks.
Kyoutani seems to like his scent. He groans into Iwaizumi’s skin, his hand slowly moving from side to side as he massages along the muscles of Iwaizumi’s arm. Biting his lip a bit harder, Iwaizumi lets himself fall back into the locker beside his open one, Kyoutani following after him, and slowly, he lifts his arm up a bit further.
With another groan, Kyoutani presses his face further into Iwaizumi’s armpit, taking in another deep breath. It makes a shiver go down Iwaizumi’s spine, and he’s a little horrified that his cock is actually interested in what Kyoutani is doing. He can also feel the way Kyoutani’s own cock is also interested, feeling it hardening in front of his thigh.
“Kyoutani…” Iwaizumi lets out a low groan as he reaches his left arm out, grabbing hold of Kyoutani’s hip and pulling the other man up against him.
Kyoutani presses their bodies together, shifting his legs apart as Iwaizumi slips his thigh between them. His hardening cock presses down against it now, and he huffs out a moan—before latching his open mouth onto Iwaizumi’s armpit and letting his tongue run over the fine hair and skin there. It’s musky and salty and Kyoutani shudders, sucking more of it into his mouth.
Iwaizumi’s head falls back against the metal locker then, another groan leaving him as he lets his arm fall on top of his head, making sure to give Kyoutani access still. Kyoutani’s hips are rolling against his thigh, grinding his cock down into it, and Iwaizumi’s own cock is pathetically hard in his gym shorts now. He lets go of Kyoutani’s hip in order to quickly shove his shorts and boxers down, his cock springing free before wrapping his fingers around it and stroking.
Both of Kyoutani’s hands move around Iwaizumi’s torso, groping at his muscles, while his mouth stays occupied with his armpit. Iwaizumi’s entire body is flush with arousal and a mixture of embarrassment and shame at the sudden kink discoveries he’s making with Kyoutani, but as he feels and hears Kyoutani whining against his armpit, his nose burying further into it, he’s feeling rather alright about getting off inside the gym’s locker room like this.