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The ties are strong around his wrists, a little rough and entirely familiar. They're their old school uniform ties, to be exact: Iwaizumi feels dirty, using them this way. He takes a moment to wonder why and where exactly Oikawa dug them up, but that thought is quickly brushed to the side in favor of the sight in front of him.
He tugs at them experimentally. There's very little give, so he aims a look down at where Oikawa's shedding his clothes at the end of the bed.
"This isn't going to cut my circulation off, is it?" he asks, a little dubiously. Oikawa offers a hum of acknowledgement, tugging his shirt off in a neat motion before answering. Iwaizumi watches it drop to the floor.
"It shouldn't." he answers, rolling his shoulders. Iwaizumi stares at a red bruise at the side of his throat, dark against his pale skin. He wonders if Oikawa would let him put another there.
"Good." Even so, Iwaizumi pulls at them again. They hold. It makes something heavy curl in his gut. Without another word, he watches Oikawa wriggle ungracefully out of his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a pair of socks and briefs. Those are shed, too.
He feels a little strange, still mostly clothed with Oikawa hovering bare over him. It'd make him bashful, almost, if he hadn't seen Oikawa this way so many times before -- so he stares, unashamedly, at Oikawa. His shoulders. Chest. Hips.
"You look cute like this," Oikawa tells him, all sugar as he shifts to settle on top of his hips. Iwaizumi lofts a brow at him, pink dusting his cheeks as Oikawa laughs. "Like, hm -- underneath me. I like that." he leans down, hands planting themselves in the pillow on either side of Iwaizumi's head. His hair sweeps down, over his forehead and cheekbones.
"That's because you're a power-hungry monster," Iwaizumi tells him, dry, and Oikawa beams. He can smell his shampoo from here, tea tree and mint, the warmth of his skin -- all his bare skin, and there's a lot of it -- bleeding through Iwaizumi's rumpled clothes. He shifts under his weight.
"Mmm," Oikawa leans down. Presses a kiss to his mouth, soft and quick -- pulls away when Iwaizumi chases his lips, smile still bright and wide on his face. "Is that really what you think of me?" His breath washes warm over Iwaizumi's skin as he pushes another kiss to his cheek, then to his jaw, then down his throat. His lips are warm.
"It's," Iwaizumi swallows, throat bobbing as Oikawa's teeth graze over a soft spot on his neck, "--true, isn't it?" He tugs at the ties again. Wisps of heat curl in his chest again as they remain firmly fastened to the headboard -- he wants to reach down, touch, wind fingers through Oikawa's hair and kiss him -- but he's not allowed. Not like this.
Another affirming noise, quiet in the back of Oikawa's throat as he noses down to his collar. His mouth is open and wet against his skin, deft fingers tugging at the buttons of Iwaizumi's shirt as he sucks a bruise into the dip of his throat. Iwaizumi's breath hitches, and he cranes his neck, struggling to see what Oikawa's doing. His weight is solid on Iwaizumi's waist, hands warm where they push fabric away from his chest and stomach.
He watches as Oikawa sits back, eyeing him like a particularly attractive piece of meat. It makes him a little dizzy -- and then Oikawa rolls his hips down against him, and he groans, head tipping back.
This is his own self-assigned penance -- he'd agreed to Oikawa's request when he'd swayed up to him, a glint in his eye and a tie in his hand. Experimental,he'd called it. It'll spice things up a little.
He's already hard within the confines of his pants, a not-yet painful ache straining against the fabric. Oikawa grinds down into him again, looking pleased with himself as he splays his palms out over his chest. With a hard exhale, Iwaizumi rocks back up into him, disappointment spreading in a red flush over his ears and cheeks when Oikawa settles heavy on top of him, disallowing any movement.
"Are you just going to feel me up?" Iwaizumi asks, hoarse. He wants to curl up into himself, almost, with how vulnerable he feels -- this way, Oikawa can stare at him as he likes, do with him as he likes. His cock twitches at the thought. His face burns. "That doesn't seem very productive."
"Patience, Iwa-chan." Oikawa tells him cheerily. He's half-hard too, proud and obvious against the bare skin of his stomach. Iwaizumi stares, hands twitching infinitesimally. He wants to touch him. Teeth dig into his bottom lip as Oikawa rolls his hips down against him again, lips barely parted. Eyelids falling shut a fraction of an inch.
He's laying it on thick. Putting on a show. Oikawa repeats the movement again, again, weight grinding sweet friction down against him, bare skin dragging against the fabric of Iwaizumi's clothes. He doesn't realize he's digging his fingers into his palms until they start to sting.
Before he can buck up against him again, Oikawa's rising to his knees -- then shuffling down, backwards, to straddle his legs. Iwaizumi watches him, heat spreading over his chest. His hands twitch, locked and bare above his head. The headboard is hard against his wrists.
When Oikawa presses another slow, heavy kiss to his chest, he sucks in a breath -- but then he's trailing his mouth down, down, over his stomach, wet and teasing. Heat flares in Iwaizumi's stomach, again: this is a sight he's used to, but always as an active participant, not as some kind of -- toy. Air hitches in his throat as Oikawa's fingers find the button of his pants, popping it open with ease.
He'd be more embarrassed of the fact that he's achingly hard, the head of his dick leaking a wet spot against the fabric, if Oikawa weren't staring at him like he wants to eat him. And then -- fuck, Iwaizumi's head falls back again as he bites back a curse -- his mouth is on him, again, hot and damp over his briefs. His legs want to draw together, his hands want to find their way to the back of Oikawa's head -- but all he can do is watch. Just watch.
"Shit," a groan as Oikawa hooks his thumbs under elastic, pulling just enough for his cock to spring free, lying heavy against his stomach. It blurts another smear of wetness against the skin, there. And then -- Oikawa wraps slim fingers around him, pumping slow, steady, palm dragging sweet over heated skin. He swallows hard.
"Do you like this, too, Iwa-chan?" There, again, with the syrup in his voice, smugness layered under it all. He squeezes his cock, mouth curling upwards as Iwaizumi makes a wounded noise, jerking against his bonds once more. Then he's stroking him again, smooth and practiced, a familiar rhythm.
The air's cold against Iwaizumi's skin, even more so with the heat that blooms in his abdomen. Oikawa's fingers -- God, his mouth -- his thoughts come to a stop, mouth falling open as Oikawa leans down, wet lips nudging just over the tip of his cock. His tongue, then -- he's licking over him, at the slit there, just under the ridge of the blunt head -- and Iwaizumi's so hard it hurts, muscles quivering with every movement of Oikawa's teasing mouth.
"God," his voice feels scratchy in his throat, wrists stinging with the pressure on them. "God, fuck--" He can't help how his hips buck upwards when Oikawa swallows him down, tongue flat under the length of his dick. His mouth is hot, wet, familiar in how he sucks him, tongue and throat working to get him off. The muscles in his stomach twitch.
Oikawa laughs, and pulls off. Holds his hips down with strong hands. Iwaizumi lets his breaths come fast, eyes on the ceiling -- "Don't tease," Iwaizumi says, a tinge of desperation there. He groans when Oikawa kisses the tip of his cock again.
"It wouldn't be fun, then." Oikawa responds, voice smooth. Iwaizumi shoots him a look, watching his smile grow. His lips are shiny, already. Without another word, he reaches to the side, hand finding the bottle of lube he'd tossed carelessly on the bed. "Right?"
"It's not--" Another helpless noise, hips twitching forward as Oikawa licks up the length of him, fingers holding him at the base as his other hand works to pop the cap of the bottle open. "--not fun, you sadist." His head feels foggy with heat. Clouded. He can't help the disappointed breath that shudders out of him when Oikawa pulls off of him, sitting up on his knees once more.
"I don't know, Iwa-chan-- you seem to be enjoying it." He sounds entirely too satisfied with himself, but Iwaizumi can't find it in him to glare as he squeezes a smear of lube into his palm, reaching down to grip Iwaizumi's cock and stroke him firmly, once, twice, more, enough for heat to build a sweet pressure in his belly once more.
And then he pulls away again. Iwaizumi huffs out a disbelieving half-laugh, entire body aching with the heat that ebbs away once more. "Oh, come on--" His mouth clicks shut, breath coming fast through his nose as he watches Oikawa squeeze lube onto his fingers once more, before reaching around behind himself.
Iwaizumi's entire body jerks, towards him. His fingers grip at nothing in midair. He wants to do that -- his thoughts come helpless, desperate, dick twitching wet and hard against his skin as Oikawa slowly, slowly nudges a finger into himself, sighing soft and pleased.
He'd made Oikawa come that way, once, fucking him with his fingers as Oikawa grabbed onto him, desperate, ohfuckHajimefuckohGod, spine arching hard as he'd spilled all over himself, gasp hitched and loud.
He's unhurried, languid, teeth digging into the plush of his bottom lip as he works that finger in and out of himself, slow. A quiet noise rumbles in Iwaizumi's throat. Jealous, almost.
That makes Oikawa look at him, gaze heated and slanted. "Is there a problem, Haji-- oh," he bites his lip again, cutting himself off with a pleased, high moan as he arches back onto his fingers. "Oh--" And he nudges in a second fingertip alongside the first, mouth falling open with pleasure.
Iwaizumi can hear noises, wet and lewd where Oikawa fingers himself, eyelids fluttering and cock hanging hard and heavy between his legs. Another wave of heat sears through him, setting his nerves alight. All he can do is watch. His trapped hands tingle.
"Hajime," Oikawa breathes out on a moan, eyes falling to meet his. Iwaizumi feels paralyzed with heat. Each noise Oikawa's fingers push from him is exaggerated, long and pleased, and it's tortuous. Normally, this would be the part where Iwaizumi would grab his hips, pull him down onto his cock, guide him down again and again, grinding up into him as Oikawa gasps, fingers digging into his thighs.
But all he can do is watch. Watch as Oikawa fucks himself on his fingers, flush rising on his throat, dick leaking precum thick and wet. He wants to cry, almost. Wants to touch. Wants to touch so badly it aches.
Oikawa pulls his fingers out of himself with a wet noise, eyes falling to where Iwaizumi's cock lies hard and neglected. His tongue flashes out against his lips as he shuffles forward, knees bracketing Iwaizumi's hips. Reaches behind him. Takes Iwaizumi in hand once more, pumping him slow, slow. Iwaizumi arches up into his touch with a bit-off moan, jeans tight and restrictive on his legs. Another disbelieving noise as Oikawa stops and shoots a heated gaze up at him, mirth bright and hot in his eyes.
"Sadist," Iwaizumi bites out again, chest heaving as Oikawa takes him, positions himself just right -- he can feel slick, intimate skin against the head of his cock, and his breath escapes him, heat heavy in his stomach.
And then Oikawa stops. Holds him there.
"Holy shit." Iwaizumi breathes out, face flushed, hair sticking to his temples. "Are you serious? Are you fucking--" He's close. He's so close, can feel heat shivering down his skin--
"Ask nicely." Oikawa cuts him off, voice still sticky sweet. Iwaizumi stares at him. "I could just leave you here, you know? I'm being nice -- or, oh, I could cum all over your chest, Iwa-chan, and then leave you here -- "
"Please." Iwaizumi bursts out, embarrassment hot on his face. "Fuck, just--"
That's good enough for him, apparently. He smiles again, before rocking back onto Iwaizumi, pushing his cock into him in slow, slow movements -- agonizing. He's so hot inside, wrapped tight around Iwaizumi as his mouth falls open, head tilting back. Iwaizumi's thighs shake, and his hips jerk upwards, ready, fingers clenching into fists and blood rushing in his ears -- all he can feel is Oikawa settling down onto him, weight heavy and familiar, and --
He sits, taking him in fully, and doesn't move. Iwaizumi stares again, heat gathering in his throat. He's -- what the fuck?
"What are you--" he tries to rock up into him, arousal curling so tight inside of him it hurts. "--are you kidding me?" A groan, helpless. Oikawa doesn't budge. He laughs, though, breathy as he braces his hands on Iwaizumi's chest.
"Ask me again," he prompts, the curve of his mouth reddened and devilish. His thighs clench tight on either side of Iwaizumi's waist, and Iwaizumi gasps, head tilting back.
"You're such an asshole," he rasps, humiliation burning anew on his face. "I can't believe--" he stumbles over his words as Oikawa raises an eyebrow at him, pleasure flushed high and red on his face. His threat comes to mind, I could just leave you here, and Iwaizumi swallows hard. "Please." he says again, low and desperate. Oikawa beams, again, a smug quirk of his lips.
"Please," Again, and that's all the prompting Oikawa needs -- he grinds back onto him, suddenly, drawn-out and dragging sweet, and a ragged noise tears itself from Iwaizumi's throat.
Oikawa doesn't wait, just picks up a slow, steady pace, hips rolling leisurely down against him. Iwaizumi swallows hard, suddenly excruciatingly aware of how hot Oikawa is inside, how each thick push of his cock inside him elicits a tiny sigh from his throat.
It's sweet. Unhurried. Any other time, Iwaizumi would've appreciated the low slant of Oikawa's eyelids, the spread of his palms over his skin -- but this is deliberate torture. Impatiently, Iwaizumi moves to thrust up into him, into that wet heat. With another laugh, half-breathed on an exhale, Oikawa stops moving again.
I'm going to die, Iwaizumi thinks hazily, eyes on the ceiling. I'm going to die and I won't be able to come beforehand.
"I don't think--" he begins, groaning as Oikawa rocks back onto him again, skin dragging hot and rough against his. "--I've ever hated anyone as much as I hate you right-- right now--" His breath catches in his throat, legs and stomach tensing as Oikawa shifts up onto his knees, before sinking back down onto him.
Oikawa blinks down at him with darkened eyes, face dusted with a pleased pink. "That's not a--" A bit-off moan as he does it again, a tiny, slow thrust that makes Iwaizumi's toes curl. "--a nice way to talk to someone who's letting you fuck them, is it?" He clenches down, teeth digging into his bottom lip as Iwaizumi makes a wounded noise.
" 'm not," He's moving so slow, it's agony, "--doing much of anything to you, you're just--" Again, the sounds catch in his throat, heat prickling over his skin as he arches up into Oikawa. "--using me--"
Oikawa stops. Smiles, all self-satisfaction and deviance.
Iwaizumi almost wants to laugh, delirious with heat and desperation. He digs his nails into his palms, held vulnerable above his head, eyes squeezing shut. The pressure coiling hot and heavy in his stomach is nigh unbearable.
And then Oikawa's moving again, in earnest, bracing himself as he grinds back again, again, pushing Iwaizumi's dick deeper with every thrust. Iwaizumi groans, long and loud, pulse pounding in his ears as Oikawa rocks himself back onto him.
"Haji-- me," A dragged out gasp of his name, and Iwaizumi barely stops himself from jerking up into him. Barely stops himself from fucking him like he wants to, mouth hot at his throat and hands hard on his hips-- his hands jerk again, stopped by the silk strapping him to the headboard.
Oikawa sees that, and slows, slows, mouth curving into something wicked once more. His hips roll in languid circles, muscles tight around him-- but so fucking leisurely, like he has all the time in the world, movements dragging out over seconds that seem too long.
"Ah-- do you want to touch me, Hajime?" Oikawa's voice dips low, breathy and brushing goosebumps over Iwaizumi's skin. His head tips to the side, hair sweeping over his forehead as he gazes down at him, throat pale and exposed. Iwaizumi's fingers twitch. He almost whimpers.
Oikawa sits up, straightening the arch of his spine, and pulls his hands back. The movements of his hips stutter, lighting sparks over Iwaizumi's nerves, before he stops again. Iwaizumi wants to cry. He's dizzy with arousal, breaths coming hot and harsh as his hips twitch upwards against Oikawa.
"Is that a yes?" Oikawa breathes, reaching down. Almost immediately, Iwaizumi's eyes snap to him, to where-- where he's wrapping his fingers around his cock, tiny moan hitching in his throat as he starts to stroke himself, movements slow and slick.
Iwaizumi licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry as Oikawa touches himself, fingers and cock wet with precum. He does whimper, then, a helpless noise deep in his throat. "Yes," he finally says, voice wrecked and hoarse, "--yeah, I--"
"Ah, well," Oikawa cuts him off, sighing out a half-laugh, half-moan as his hips stutter forwards, thumb pressing just under the head of his dick. "You can't, right? So I'll do it." Another hitch of breath as Iwaizumi jerks up against him, and he stops, pleasure flushing red over his throat and ears.
Iwaizumi does it again, heart in his throat -- shoves up into him, feels Oikawa tense, moan rumbling in his chest -- "Come on, Oikawa," it's a rasp more than anything, voice sounding far away over the rushing of his pulse behind his eyes. "--move."
Oikawa slants a look down at him, hands falling back to his stomach. "What?" There's sugar in his voice, still, raw and scratchy. "What is it you want?"
"Let me--" Iwaizumi lets out a pitiful noise, legs suddenly jerking as Oikawa grinds back against him again, in small, heated circles, still impossibly tight and wet around his cock. "--let me move, fuck, "
"Magic words, Hajime," Oikawa breathes, smiling, somehow still managing to retain composure even as he rocks down onto Iwaizumi again and again. Iwaizumidoes laugh, then, strangled and a little desperate.
"I can't believe you're making me--" his breath catches in a disappointed moan that almost sounds like a sob as Oikawa slows again, flushed expression betraying nothing but patience. "--shit, no, don't stop--" a gasp. His legs shake, heat tightening ferocious and urgent. "--please, please, come on, move--" Abandoning his pride, voice cracking.
Oikawa seems to consider that for a second, before he leans down, planting both hands on the mattress where Iwaizumi's upper body curves to rest against the headboard. The heat of him is closer, suddenly, almost pressed completely up against Iwaizumi's chest.
He swallows, hands twitching against their ties once more, as Oikawa brings a hand up, palm smoothing down his jaw. "Tell me again," he murmurs, voice silky-- but it's heated, too, just barely hiding the tremor there.
Iwaizumi feels clouded, heavy with heat pressing down around him from all sides -- he wants, wants -- but he doesn't even get the chance, mouth shaping around another please before Oikawa's drawing up onto his knees and sinking back down onto him all the way, ass flush against Iwaizumi's hips.
"You're so good," Oikawa sighs, breathless, drawing up again, pressing back down to take him deep. There's a hiccup in his breath, then, body jerking forward as the head of Iwaizumi's cock presses into something sweet. "So-- oh, Hajime, you feel so good, you--" his hands flash up to where Iwaizumi's wrists remain firmly bound, bracing himself just above them.
His eyelids fall to half-mast again, and his teeth dig into the plush of his lower lip once more before he starts thrusting back onto Iwaizumi's cock, movements fast and sure.
The ache in Iwaizumi's body from being stuck in a half-sitting, half-lying down position disappears immediately, and his mouth falls open, vision blurring over with heat even as Oikawa traps his gaze with his own.
Little bit-off gasps of Hajime, Hajime fall from Oikawa's mouth as he grinds back over and over, bearing down hot and tight around him as Iwaizumi's muscles twitch. He distantly realizes he's quivering, shaking with how good it feels, heat flaring anew every time Oikawa gets the angle just right. He forces himself down onto Iwaizumi's cock, shuddering every time the blunt head drags against his prostate--
"I'm gonna," Iwaizumi hears himself gasp out, voice raw and broken, "gonna come, fuck, Oikawa--" his head falls back as Oikawa clenches down around him, skin sticky and hot as he pants out fast breaths.
It curls quick, coils around him in steadily brightening waves of heat as Oikawa whispers filthy encouragements down at him, each shove of Iwaizumi's dick into him making his breath stammer. He wants-- still wants to touch, but even as he yanks at the ties once more, helpless, Oikawa sinks back down, pushes Iwaizumi's cock into him hard, and he comes with a shout.
His vision flashes for a moment as he bites back a shaking whine, hips jerking upward into that wet heat, skin prickling as he feels himself pump sticky and deep inside Oikawa. His orgasm drags out long, sweet and aching as Oikawa milks it out of him with slow, dragging movements.
He sags as the last spark of it disappears, shivering as Oikawa shifts down against his now-softening cock, stroking himself off fast and slick. Every movement makes him twitch, sensitive as he is, but even the borderline pleasure-pain of those slow thrusts can't draw his attention from Oikawa.
His thighs clench tight around Iwaizumi once more, shaking as he squeezes himself, pumping hard and tight until his mouth falls open, spine curving in and toes curling until he comes with a broken noise, entire body jerking as he spills strings of sticky white over his hand and Iwaizumi's chest.
Iwaizumi can still hear his heart going a thousand miles an hour in his chest, body aching with leftover dregs of pleasure, wrists throbbing against the hard edges of the headboard.
Oikawa finally looks up, face flushed and shining, and beams at him. Straightening, he casts his gaze down to his hand, brief distaste flickering through his eyes before he reaches up and smears sticky cum against Iwaizumi's cheek.
He freezes.
"What the fuck?" It's incredulous even as Oikawa laughs, leaning over to the nightstand -- and with a deft, practiced movement, he snatches his phone, unlocks it, and snaps a picture of Iwaizumi with his wrists tied and cum on his face.
"For posterity." he assures Iwaizumi as he watches his face turn scarlet, pulling at the ties with renewed energy. "You'll let me have at least that, right, Iwa-chan?"
Iwaizumi squints at him, long and hard. "Untie me." he finally demands.
Oikawa cocks his head. The look on his face grows devilish once more, and he puts the phone down, leaning forward and over him again. He's still warm around Iwaizumi's now-soft cock. "Say please." he prompts, sweetly.
Iwaizumi stares. Oikawa's expression doesn't change.
"Fine." A long exhale, and Oikawa beams. "Please."
"Sure thing, Iwa-chan," and he reaches up, fingers finding the ties, undoing the knots with ease. As they fall, Iwa pulls his hands back, rubbing at the pink indents at his wrists. There's a moment of silence.
"Thank you." he offers, then, and Oikawa laughs.