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Tokyo Boy

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simmer down and pucker up
i'm sorry to interrupt, it's just i'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you
i don't know if you feel the same as i do
but we could be together, if you wanted to
[X]

 

Saturday March 1st

 

The day of reckoning is finally here, and Oikawa is finding it hard to be his usual calm and collected self as he, Makki and Mattsun lounge on their favourite set of couches in the corner of Ukai’s bar. It’s a nice place, hidden on the second floor of a nondescript building in their beloved ni-chome. Surprisingly spacious with a calm atmosphere, Ukai's is a place where working professionals can come to socialize with their community but also avoid the more… enthusiastic and gaudy youths that like to flock to the more lively gay bars and clubs at the weekend. The three of them are making a good effort at acting normally, but there’s no denying they’re all waiting for the star of the show.

 

Surprisingly, Iwaizumi had immediately accepted the invitation, saying it ‘sounded fun’.

 

What did that even mean?

 

Due to his limited time in Tokyo, Iwa-chan had to work today too, but promised to come straight after work. Oikawa loves the times he gets to see Iwa-chan in a suit after work the most. The best instance so far had been last Summer, when with the high humidity Tokyo’s army of salarymen had been allowed to man the frontlines of office work sans blazer. When Oikawa had met Iwaizumi late one evening for a few drinks at an izakaya, Iwa-chan had been wearing a light blue button-down, no tie, his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow. His forearms had looked incredible and once they were finally, finally alone Oikawa had immediately--

 

His phone buzzes, the message a genial ’On the train now, I’ll be about 10 mins. Get me a beer?’ and Oikawa’s stomach does all sorts of acrobatics in response. He does as he’s told, standing woodenly and then returning from the bar a few minutes later with his usual Highball and a beer for Iwa-chan. His friends visibly perking up once they catch sight of the extra drink, and Oikawa tries not to sweat at the increase in attention.

 

From then it’s a waiting game, an anxious five minutes or so where Oikawa’s nervous brown gaze keeps getting tugged towards the door, his whole frame wound tight with tension.

 

And then suddenly Iwa-chan is there at the threshold, pocketing his phone and scanning the bar - their eyes meet and Oikawa stands up immediately. Iwa-chan’s dressed smartly, in a crisp-looking black suit and a muted tie, though it’s been loosened a little and the first two buttons from his collar are undone, his trademark messy now he’s free of work obligations.

 

Strangely enough, when Iwa-chan smiles and starts making his way over, Oikawa finds himself relaxing, more at ease than before. It’s fine, it’s just Iwa-chan, and not once has Oikawa felt uncomfortable in his presence, not even the first time when they were total strangers. Iwaizumi makes Oikawa’s brain shut up, and that’s not an easy feat.

 

Makki and Mattsun react immediately, a testament to the fact they’d been waiting just as eagerly for Iwaizumi’s arrival, if not more so. Their necks are craned to look behind them even before they’re fully stood, but Iwaizumi’s attention remains on Oikawa, like it’s impossible for him to notice anything else.

 

“Sorry I’m late, I didn’t realise how long in-depth job interviews actually took here.”

 

There’s a pause, where Iwaizumi looks like he’s waiting for something to come from that, maybe, but Tooru is feeling a little frenetic from all his nerves and the very real fact that this is happening, right now. He barely listens to what Iwaizumi says in his haste to react to it, waving his hands around in an awkward, inflated gesture.

 

“It’s fine, Iwa-chan! We knew you were busy!” Ah, speaking of. “Iwa-chan, these are my best friends! Hanamaki is the evil-looking pink-haired one and the bored-looking one is Matsukawa, the birthday boy~” He doesn’t get any kind of reaction from said friends at such an introduction, not that he was especially expecting one. Instead, Oikawa just wraps his hand around Iwa-chan’s bicep to tug him closer, and more importantly on the other side of the table and away from Makki, who looks delighted. Tooru finds himself terrified it but perseveres anyway. “Makki, Mattsun, this is Iwaizumi! He’s a brute but obviously can speak and understand Japanese just fine. As long as you don’t speak too fast he’ll be able to keep up~”

 

Iwa-chan just huffs - it’s all true information, but Oikawa is just being his usual overbearing self by laying it out there all at once. He greets Makki and Mattsun easily with a smile and a ‘nice to meet you’, nodding his head at each of them and getting the greeting returned in kind.

 

They all take their seats again and Oikawa can see the gleam in Makki’s eyes at the way Iwaizumi sits close to him on the couch, immediately dropping a casual hand to Oikawa’s leg, just above the knee. He’s always more tactile in the gay district, policing himself a lot less and allowing himself to make all the casual gestures he likes to bestow upon Oikawa.

 

“Is this for me?” he asks with a gesture towards the beer, snapping Tooru out of his silent threats at Makki to behave himself so that he can nod in reply.

 

“You can’t say I don’t take care of you Iwa-chan~” he croons, his skin feeling warm under Iwaizumi’s broad palm, which he doesn’t move even as he leans forward to pick up his beer with his other hand.

 

That’s the only peace he gets before Mattsun is shifting in his seat opposite them, resting an ankle on the opposite knee, hooded gaze focused intently on the newcomer. “So, Iwaizumi,” he begins conversationally, casually, but Oikawa knows Matsukawa better than that. This is the beginning of the interrogation he’d been avoiding all this time. Oikawa sighs and takes a sip of his fresh Highball - he’s gonna need it. “I can’t say I know much about you,” those eyes flicker blame over to Oikawa for a second, before they’re back on Iwaizumi, with their not-exactly-genuine disinterest hiding the fact he’s actively fishing for something to disapprove of. Iwa-chan isn’t a villain, even if he is seeing other people he’s not doing anything wrong, but he is the boy Oikawa likes and who could end up hurting him. “How old are you?”

 

Iwaizumi seems surprised by the utterly pedestrian nature of the first question, having probably expected some kind of grilling from Oikawa’s best friends on their first meeting. Oikawa’s almost proud of his forethought.

 

He finishes taking a sip from his beer and pulls the glass away from his mouth so he can answer a simple “twenty-eight.” He doesn’t intonate his answer like a question like he would if he were nervous, which is a good thing. It’s unsurprising though - Iwa-chan is quietly confident in himself, something Oikawa likes. He rests his hand on Iwaizumi’s forearm, long fingers stretching down almost to the shiny silver watch at his wrist and the hand resting on Oikawa’s thigh beyond.

 

“Ah, we’re all the same age, then!” Hanamaki chimes in, looking like he’s enjoying himself far too much already. His eyes slide from Oikawa’s hand to Matsukawa. “Since Mattsun finally caught up today~”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Iwaizumi says, suddenly remembering why they’re gathered. “Sorry- happy birthday, by the way. I hope this idiot didn’t buy you a useless present.” His head tips towards Oikawa as he says ‘this idiot’ and Oikawa lets out a sound of protest because really, Iwa-chan is going to make fun of him in front of his best friends? Who also love to make fun of him and will only take it as encouragement? Matsukawa seems surprised at first, before he chuckles and waves Iwaizumi off, mentioning the expensive sweater that actually caters to his tastes perfectly.

 

The short interruption doesn’t deter Matsukawa for long, and he’s back to fishing. The next few questions follow much in the same way - they’re all about basic things Oikawa knows already, and whilst Mattsun asks them casually, he makes no extra attempt to disguise the fact this is a clear dig for information. Where he lives, when he moved over from Japan to the States, what company he works for, et cetera. Oikawa knows that Mattsun is simply doing this because he’d remained uncharacteristically tight-lipped about things concerning Iwaizumi, and not because he’s actually trying to help Oikawa figure out any secret Iwa-chan might have.

 

There had been something scary in the thought of telling Makki and Mattsun more than the odd fact or tale about Iwaizumi. He and the pair have been best friends for years, there’s hardly a significant memory or time in his life where the couple don’t feature - and that’s nice - but it had also been nice to have something for himself. Not that Iwa-chan is his possession, but this thing they had was until now a part of his life that was his own, and not shared with his two best friends.

 

Oikawa could define himself to Iwaizumi in a way he wanted - the closest to his true self he’s probably ever gotten - with no outside interference. That had been liberating. Because of that, what they had between them felt precious and private, but also fragile and Oikawa hadn’t wanted to do anything that could compromise it in any way; had wanted to protect it from the outside world.

 

Iwa-chan is handling it all like a pro though, seeming unruffled if not totally at ease with the questions. He’d probably been expecting a certain measure of curiosity (suspicion) despite the fact Oikawa hadn’t mentioned anything to him about having to prepare for a stand-off. Whatever they have between them has been going on for a while now, so it’s probably to be expected that it would garner curiosity from the people around them. Oikawa wonders if any of Iwaizumi’s friends or family know about him, though the familiar crooning of doubt in the back of his mind tells him why would they, if you’re not the only one?

 

“Alright, that’s enough interrogation!” The conversation had turned into too much of a question and answer format to feel natural, and Oikawa’s savior had come in the unlikely form of Makki. He sends a small smile to his friend in thanks, who catches it but doesn’t make a big deal out of it. Morals or not, Makki is good in unfamiliar social situations. Oikawa is usually the conductor of conversation or atmosphere at social gatherings but he’s a little too involved in this; a little too dependent on the way it turns out that he’s taking a more passive role. It’s lucky Makki is there and willing to take up the mantle. “So I’ve been told discussing kinks apparently isn’t welcome on a first meeting, and Mattsun doesn’t want to hear sex stories featuring Oikawa, unfortunately. So instead, do you wanna hear an embarrassing story about Oikawa? We have lots.”

 

Okay, maybe Oikawa shouldn’t be singing Makki’s praises too much.

 

Iwa-chan huffs, unsure if he should be amused or not at Hanamaki’s interruption (despite the fact he clearly is amused), but at the mention of embarrassing stories his interest is clearly piqued. He inches forward just the slightest bit and nods eagerly in between swigs of his beer. “What have you got? I mean, he’s pretty ridiculous. And you guys have known him for a long time, so you must have some great ones.”

 

Oikawa can only whine, using the hand not wound around Iwaizumi’s forearm to cover his own face in embarrassment, because he’s powerless to stop what’s about to happen. Really, it had only been a matter of time. Even Tooru can admit he’s a hopeless, embarrassing guy sometimes. Makki grins, all teeth, apparently pleased with Iwaizumi’s enthusiasm and willingness to help him humiliate Oikawa. Iwaizumi huffs at Oikawa’s familiar dramatics, squeezing his thigh to try and placate him even if he immediately turns to Hanamaki afterwards to hear the story, displaying absolutely zero remorse in the face of Oikawa’s mortification.

 

“Okay so we came here for the New Years just gone, right?”

 

Oikawa can’t help but let out a muffled wail as Makki begins to recount just how drunk he’d gotten after they decided to avoid the rammed shrines around the city and instead just spend the night in Ukai’s bar with all the regulars. He’d gotten drunk. Incredibly so. To the point he thought it would be appropriate to display the flexibility he’s obtained from years of yoga and other training, kicking his leg up to show just how high and straight he could extend it, loudly imploring everyone to look and witness his incredible display of dexterity.

 

Hanamaki continues: “Which you know, would have been fine - it’s a good party trick and Tooru is hilarious when he’s that smashed - yelling and slurring for people to ‘witness his amazingness’ - it would have been fine, if not for what happened next.” Makki pauses his dramatic retelling here, casting mischievous eyes over to Oikawa to revel in his red face and clear discomfort, and Iwaizumi is hooked.

 

“And? What did this dumbass do?”

 

“He kicked a lamp that used be over there-” Makki graciously points across the room to where the light used to be before it got smashed “-which obviously knocked him off balance, sending him crashing into Ukai, the guy who owns this place. They crashed to the floor and ultimately that’s how Oikawa ended up doing the splits on top of the owner of our favorite bar, immediately throwing his arms up and acting like it was the planned finale of his little show. I’ve got pictures.”

 

Iwaizumi lets out a bark of laughter.

 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa complains immediately, tightening his fingers around Iwaizumi’s arm so the other turns to look at see his absolute mortification. At least Iwa-chan looks a bit remorseful once he witnesses the pain on Oikawa’s face at having Iwaizumi know some of his less than suave escapades.

 

“Sorry,” he says, and though he’s clearly amused, he does mean it. What puts the stars in Oikawa’s eyes though, is the way he leans forward without thinking and presses a soft peck to the corner of Oikawa’s mouth in apology.

 

It’s something he always does when they’re alone and Oikawa ends up whining because of Iwa-chan’s bullying. It never fails to make him melt but here, in front of his friends and in the safe yet still public setting of Ukai’s bar, it makes his stomach twist and his chest flutter in the best of ways. It’s the kind of casual public display he’s often daydreamed about. It fills him with soft, easy heat that warms him to the core and makes his eyelids droop a little lower. Makes him lean more towards Hajime, hopelessly pulled in by his unthinking self-assuredness, and press a kiss to his lips in reply. His gaze is trapped by Iwaizumi’s, and the next time he moves forward to kiss him again (just one more, because it feels so nice) Iwa-chan meets him halfway.

 

They share a couple more quick, chaste kisses, lost in each other and forgetting everyone else at least until Mattsun is leaning forward to grab his beer, clearing his throat in a very obvious call to attention. Oikawa is snapped out of his trance immediately, eyes sliding from Mattsun’s raised brows to Makki’s soft surprise to the floor, feeling a little stunned himself.

 

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi says for the both of them with a smile before Oikawa can even think to speak. He seems unbothered if not a little bashful, taking a sip of his own beer.

 

Oikawa’s a little more stunned by the unusual display of affection they’d both shared, going red. It’s not something they’ve ever done in public before, so to have done it in front of Mattsun and Makki of all people before they even know Iwa-chan is a little… intense. But what’s really weird is how totally natural the intimacy had felt, and the way neither of them had really seemed to think about doing it at all. His cheeks burn - only when Iwa-chan squeezes his leg gently is he snapped out of his thoughts, smiling and trying not to look too lovestruck as he takes a long sip of his drink.

 

The conversation eventually begins to flow again after that episode, everyone happy to let it go except for Oikawa, who can’t help wondering what that little display means for him and Iwaizumi in the gaps between his inputs in the conversation. Iwaizumi pulls away from him at some point to buy a round of drinks at the bar, though it isn’t long after he’s returned that he’s close to Oikawa again, this time with his arm slung casually behind Tooru’s shoulders across the top of the couch, casual but demonstrative as always.

 

It feels amazing like this; to have his three favorite people around him at once and even more critically, for Iwaizumi to be so relaxed in the situation - relaxed enough that he’s willing to indulge in the same casual displays of affection he always does when they’re alone. If anything, the situation means they’re all the more significant.

 

Oikawa laughs as Mattsun tells Iwaizumi a story from their high school days, after a while too happy and tipsy to be embarrassed anymore, resting his head back on Iwaizumi’s arm and turning his face to look at him. Iwa-chan is really amazing. To be willing to come at all was more than enough for Oikawa, but to get along this well with Matsukawa and Hanamaki and actually be visibly enjoying himself really is amazing.

 

Oikawa can’t understand how someone so unassuming can be so utterly perfect for him. All the shoujo manga he’s read and the dramas he’s watched have told him this kind of connection should be explosive, obvious from the start, but this… It’s natural, a slowly-dawning, creeping realization, the time-span only stretched out further by the distance between them, the long gaps between their time together.

 

He doesn’t want to think about the ugly possibility, the sickly thoughts of Iwaizumi sitting like this in a different city with someone else, but suddenly that grey cloud is back and he can’t help it. Sitting here and feeling this happy has the adverse effect of reminding Oikawa that there’s an Unknown he must deal with here. It forces him to confront the part of himself that thinks he might be happier not knowing, just so he can keep enjoying this. He can’t do that. He deserves to know the truth, and he owes it to himself to pursue it. Having resolved to have the conversation later already, he thinks that maybe he can just give himself tonight.

 

Iwaizumi continues to get on with Makki and Mattsun like a house on fire, despite his friends’ mild suspicions on his character and attitude towards his ‘thing’ with Oikawa, and that makes Oikawa really happy, despite his worries. Iwaizumi is just such a likeable guy; he’s open and quietly confident and friendly, and he’s showing Oikawa’s two best friends that without even being aware of it. Thinking about all the things he admires and loves about Iwaizumi, Oikawa is reminded of just how much he aches when he isn’t around. Whether he’s waiting one month to see Iwaizumi, or two or three or four, it hardly matters. It’s the same cloying need however long he’s without him; it always has him feeling touch-starved and desperate for Iwaizumi’s eyes and hands on him.

 

 

 

So once they finally make it to Oikawa’s apartment and shut the door behind them, despite the ugly unknown lingering in the wings of his thoughts, Oikawa is on Iwaizumi immediately. He’s weak and selfish, and he’s high on the adrenaline of the successful meeting of his three favourite people in this world and the fact Iwaizumi is finally here, ready and willing to stay at Oikawa’s place. For the first time. He’ll find out what he wants to know later. If this is the end, he wants to make it count.

 

“You handled that like a champ, Iwa-chan~” he coos, cupping the other’s strong jaw with his hands, Oikawa’s own mouth pinching into a happy smile without his permission.

 

Iwaizumi’s hands settle on Oikawa’s hips, warm and sure as always and Oikawa sighs, stepping closer so he’s almost crowding Iwaizumi against the wall. “Hm, so it was a test then?” The tone isn’t accusatory or annoyed, and Oikawa is glad that Iwa-chan is so easy-going about this stuff.

 

“Hardly.” Because it hadn’t been a test, not really. “You just happened to demand my presence the one time I had plans. So I killed two birds with one stone,” he explains, unable to keep the stupid smile from his face, his and Iwaizumi’s noses bumping together thanks to his apparent need to be as close to the other as physically possible. He’s happy and there’s whiskey in his belly and the heat of Iwaizumi at his front and it all makes him feel like he’s floating. “I didn’t think you’d want to come. I’m really happy you did, though.”

 

Oikawa can practically feel Iwaizumi’s frown, but he goes a little cross-eyed trying to focus on the other man’s expression with how close they are, letting out a little giggle at it because it’s silly and he’s tipsy. “Why wouldn’t I want to come?” Iwa-chan asks, sounding as grumpily bemused as he looks. “They’re your best friends.”

 

But that’s exactly why, doesn’t Iwa-chan see? They’re Oikawa’s friends. A part of his life; a totally separate entity to this thing he has going on with Iwaizumi. Like aspects of Iwaizumi’s social life and generic details of his daily life in LA, it’s a topic rarely brought into the conversation. It’s the indescribable ‘other’, always lingering on the sidelines of their time together but never really brought up for whatever reason. Oikawa has always assumed it was because Iwaizumi hadn’t cared much to know about things that didn’t concern him - not that he doesn’t care about Oikawa, because the brunette knows he does, but Iwaizumi isn’t exactly part of his daily life despite Oikawa’s pining. It's kind of impossible to be when he spends most of his time on the other side of the world. All the two of them have ever been is a nice little connection to make when they can, quick and fun and never anything too deep.

 

Though that's not really true anymore, and he can't deny it any longer. This whole thing stopped being innocent fun when Tooru started accidentally investing genuine deep emotion into it, and things had gotten a lot more confusing thanks to it. How is he to know anything about what Iwaizumi thinks or feels or wants when they never actually discuss it?

 

Something must show on his face, because Iwaizumi moves his hands from Oikawa’s hips to gently hold his upper arms, pushing him back a step or two so that they can properly look each other in the face. “Y’know Tooru, maybe now’s a good time to actually have a talk about--”

 

No. No, no, no. Iwa-chan doesn’t just suddenly get to become a mind reader, or start to want to define things. They need to, and Oikawa knows it. It’s about fucking time they had this talk, and if anything, it’s well overdue. Tooru had been careless and ignorant by not even thinking about this kind of scenario before, but for a while now he’s just been a coward plain and simple.

 

But finally talking about it means having to acknowledge that Oikawa Tooru wants what he can’t have. He can’t have Iwaizumi the way he wants. Logistically, among other ways, it just wouldn’t work. He needs to hear that so he can move on, but he doesn’t want to. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

 

How dare Iwaizumi thrust this on him when Oikawa has already decided to give himself one last night? Who is he to try and tear away the goodbye Oikawa had selfishly granted himself? Everything was going to go horribly wrong.

 

So Tooru does what he does best in situations where he’s feeling attacked. He defends himself by taking control and becoming the aggressor, in the way only a charismatic, good-looking young man can.

 

“How about,” he says, slowly, purposefully, lids lowering so he’s looking at Iwaizumi through the dark curl of eyelashes, “we talk later.” It’s almost a checklist, one Oikawa knows so well that even his stormy emotions stop it from coming naturally. Tilt his head to the side; lower his voice to a near purr; reach out to coyly trail long fingers across the shiny black leather of Iwaizumi’s belt. Iwaizumi takes a breath in, expression melting from serious to something more slack. This had been between them moments earlier (is always there, really), he’s just re-awakening it to suit his purpose. He shifts forward minutely. This is power Tooru still has, this is the way he can try and control the situation he’s in for just a little longer. “And right now, I show you my bedroom.”

 

Iwaizumi’s eyes seem to darken with want, a look Oikawa only gets to see every few months in reality but sees almost every night in his dreams. Got him, he thinks triumphantly, but still makes a show of biting his bottom lip as he hooks a finger in one of Iwaizumi’s belt loops, just to secure his victory.

 

“And you can show me how much you missed me.” he murmurs, and Iwaizumi sways back towards him.

 

Hook, line and sinker.

 

Oikawa leads Iwaizumi by the hand down the short hallway of his apartment, swallowing down the negativity creeping up the back of his throat while he can’t be seen. Unsurprisingly, once they reach the bedroom Iwaizumi doesn’t make much of an effort (or any at all) to examine his surroundings, nor does Oikawa make any attempt to give him any kind of inane mockery of a ‘tour’. They don’t even turn on the light, just go straight into liberating each other of their clothes: pushing jackets off shoulders to fall to the floor; fumbling over shirt buttons; forcing belts and trousers undone.

 

It’s a familiar dance by now, the transitions from clothed to bare and from standing to reclined on Oikawa’s bed smooth and easy. The navy sheets below Oikawa are cool, a contrast to the warmth of Iwaizumi’s solid body leaning over him. He hums, bent knees bracketing Iwaizumi’s hips as he’s kissed soundly on the mouth in all the ways Iwaizumi knows he loves. There’s a hand on his thigh and Oikawa remembers the innocuous touch from earlier in the bar, in front of his friends, and moans. He wants more, pulling at the back of Iwaizumi’s neck and rolling his hips up but Iwa-chan doesn’t move; doesn’t pander to Oikawa’s obvious efforts to deepen their kiss into something deeper, messier, hotter.

 

“My pace,” he tells Oikawa in that gentle yet authoritative tone he likes to use in bed sometimes. The reaction is immediate - a prickle rushes its way up Oikawa’s body, starting from his toes and ending in a fizzle in his head that must be his brain short-circuiting. “You wanted me to show you, so we’ll go at my pace.”

 

And hell if Iwaizumi isn’t ruthless with it. He won’t relent to Oikawa’s demands for fast and hard and distracting no matter what the brunette tries. He does let him scrabble to get the lube and a condom from his bedside table after a few minutes of torturous kissing, but he refuses to use them right away like Oikawa wants, instead leaving them on the sheets. It would perhaps be forgivable, if he didn’t follow it up with another simple kiss, open mouth with a little tongue but nothing that will wipe all of Oikawa’s thoughts away and leave only blissful heat behind. It’s not enough, but still Iwaizumi takes his time, kissing the corner of Oikawa’s mouth, then pressing a slow-opened mouth kiss to his jaw, below his ear, his neck. Tooru can’t help but whine, because yeah it feels good - it feels amazing - but he needs distraction right now.

 

“Give it to me,” he demands desperately, and he always says something similar when they come together because Oikawa always wants Iwaizumi, needs him even, but tonight he needs him in a different way. He needs Iwaizumi to fuck him in a way that makes Oikawa forget all the unwanted and complicated emotions Iwaizumi himself makes him feel.

 

Iwaizumi hums against the damp ditch of Oikawa’s collarbone, reaching up for the bottle by Oikawa’s shoulder to coat his fingers with lube. “My pace, Tooru,” he reminds him, trailing those obscenely slow kisses down Oikawa’s torso, pausing near his bellybutton so he can devote his attention to sliding in the first finger. Slow, slow, slow, until it stops completely, Iwaizumi stilling with it and just letting Oikawa feel it rest inside of him for a moment.

 

A shudder pulls through Tooru’s entire body, his heels dig into the mattress and his fists clench around his sheets. It feels good, of course it does, but one isn’t enough. Fingers aren’t enough. He aches, he wants, he needs-

 

“Iwa-chan-”

 

“No.” It’s not what he wants to hear.

 

“Iwa-cha--”

 

No.

 

Oikawa clenches his teeth, one hand moving so it can press into one of his closed eyes. Frustration. At Iwa-chan now, at Iwa-chan always, at this whole damn mess he’s gotten into. He needs a distraction from all of these thoughts and feelings, but Iwaizumi just won’t give him what he needs.

 

The finger inside him curls slowly and Oikawa hisses in pleasure, enraged at not getting his way even as his body reacts, convulsing and arching and trying to press into the feeling. Then Iwaizumi is pulling it out, just as slow as it went in.

 

“Tooru, you know what I want--”

 

Oikawa just wants him to stop talking. He does know what Iwaizumi wants to hear, and he knows when he hears it he’ll shut up at least for now, which is why he cuts the other off before he can even finish his provocation. He wants to say it, anyway. He loves saying it.

 

Hajime.

 

And in that single word, Oikawa hears all the many months of longing and need he’s gone through. He hadn’t meant to be so damn transparent.

 

There’s a low moan exhaled against his hipbone, and despite everything, Oikawa likes the feel of that. What he likes even more is the two fingers that enter him this time, still slow but tolerable now he’s getting some stretch, and even better when they don’t still but stay in constant motion. Slow, deep pumps and even slower curls, torturous stretching when they’re forced apart and then brought together again, over and over. Then Iwaizumi adds another, repeating the movements with the same care and dedication. Iwaizumi has never fingered him so thoroughly, and though obviously they’re both experienced enough to know the joys of it, it’s always been a means to an end for them when they’ve been together. Limited time together means that having one of them inside the other has always been the end goal, but this is just as intimate, if not more with the way Iwaizumi is so slowly finger-fucking him.

 

Oikawa pulls his hand away from his sweaty face, forcing his eyes open so he can look down his chest and check on Iwa-chan. What he sees steals his breath away. Iwaizumi’s face is still lingering over Oikawa’s hipbone, and though Tooru can see his shoulder and arm working in time to the movements inside of him, Iwaizumi’s eyes are fixed on Oikawa’s face, intense and focused and serious as he takes in every single reaction.

 

Oikawa can’t bear to watch him back for more than a few seconds. He doesn’t want to have to remember something as gorgeous, as satisfying as occupying absolutely all of Hajime’s attention when all this is over. He doesn’t want to be alone tomorrow after Iwaizumi inevitably leaves, and start thinking about him looking at someone else like that. It’s not a look Oikawa can lay claim to, not something he can brag about belonging to him, and that hurts.

 

“Please,” he begs, sounding more wrecked and flayed than he’d wanted, but it’s an accurate representation of how he feels. “Hajime, please.

 

Love me, he thinks. Please love me and only me.

 

The fingers leave him and there’s some shuffling and then Iwaizumi is on all-fours above him again. “Are you alright?” he asks, voice even more gentle than the tanned fingertips swooping down Oikawa’s ribs.

 

“I’m fine,” Oikawa responds, barely even thinking about the lie now that he’s been using it for so long. He cups Iwaizumi’s face with shaking hands. “I’m fine,” he repeats, with a little more conviction despite it being the biggest lie he’s told maybe ever. “I just need you.”

 

That, sadly, is not a lie. Tooru needs Iwa-chan like he needs air, or good skin care products.

 

Iwaizumi nods, brushing Oikawa’s hair back as he drops a kiss to his cheek. His left hand fumbles across the sheets for a moment before it finds the packet, and he makes quick work of opening it and rolling the condom on.

 

If Oikawa had the capacity to observe what’s going on around him in this moment, he’d see how sensitive Iwaizumi is, would notice how he hisses at the touch to his length when he applies extra lube and how his whole frame is tight with forced control. He’d appreciate the gentleness with which Iwaizumi lifts one of his thighs, coaxing him to wrap the leg around his hip, and he’d catalogue the hitched, excited breath Iwaizumi takes just before he pushes inside.

 

As it is, Oikawa is incapable of it. He only registers the moment Iwaizumi begins to push inside him, the pace still so much slower than usual but the stretch and the feel of him the same as always. Slightly painful. Erotic. Euphoric. Fulfilling. Iwaizumi does the same as he did with his finger, he stills and lets Oikawa feel him, and it’s amazing and awful to be given such a moment, because Iwaizumi feels like he belongs there. That’s a ridiculous notion, but that doesn’t stop it from feeling any less true to Oikawa.

 

He can’t help it, he lets out a broken sob because how can this feel so amazing if it doesn’t actually mean anything? How can he and Iwaizumi not be perfect for each other? How can they not be the real thing, not be destined to be together, when it feels like this?

 

“Please,” he gasps out, sticky with want and all the things he will never dare say.

 

Thankfully Iwaizumi just lets out a shaky exhale near Oikawa’s ear and nods wordlessly. He begins to move, thrusts slow and deep. There’s no hope of deviating Iwaizumi from his pace now, and Oikawa thinks he must be a masochist because he doesn’t want it any other way anymore. This is what he’s always craved - slow, purposeful, full of meaning. It almost feels like making love or whatever the cliche is, and though that could never be true Oikawa wants to do the damaging thing and pretend it is so, if only for tonight.

 

“You’re perfect, you’re so precious-” Iwaizumi is whispering things in his ear again, but even if Oikawa could do anything more than register the mere fact the other is speaking (and that’s about all he’s capable of right now), he still wouldn’t be able to understand the English, foreign and incomprehensible to him as always.

 

Iwaizumi keeps his pace, and he holds onto Oikawa and Oikawa holds onto him until they both come, overwhelmed by the steady, gradual pull to release when they’re so used to the quick crash of something more physically intense but less emotionally-charged.

 

Oikawa is spent. It takes every ounce of his remaining strength to heave himself onto his side when Iwaizumi climbs off him to get rid of the used condom and find something to clean them off with. And because he’s a coward, when Iwaizumi returns he doesn’t move or open his eyes, feigning sleep. He can’t face the reality of what they are so soon after that. He’s too raw, if not completely flayed open. The moment Iwaizumi opens his mouth to set the record straight, he’s going to see everything Oikawa has hidden away to fester beneath the surface if he isn’t given the opportunity to gather himself together. He doesn’t want to make Iwaizumi feel guilty, because he isn’t guilty. They never promised each other anything. It was supposed to be no-strings. It was supposed to be fun.

 

So Oikawa just keeps his eyes shut, and doesn’t have to put much effort into remaining limp even when Iwaizumi thoroughly but carefully wipes him down, because he just feels so drained. Iwaizumi leaves the room again, and returns a couple of minutes later. There’s a pause after the other closes the bedroom door behind him, and Oikawa in his haze thinks he can feel a stare on his back before Iwaizumi breaks into motion again, climbing onto the bed and laying down right behind him.

 

Oikawa falls asleep with an arm around his waist and soft lips at the back of his neck - but then again, it’s such a recurring fantasy that he can’t be sure he isn’t already asleep and dreaming.

 

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

 

He wakes up the next morning to an empty bed and the sounds of movement in his kitchen.

 

Awareness comes back to him slowly at first and then all at once: coming to terms with the fact he’s more emotionally invested than he should be; the fact that it could never really work out with Iwaizumi living so far away anyway; how much fun he’d had the night before and how well it had gone. The other man’s persistent and thorough treatment of him the night before - the torturous, achingly slow and absolutely amazing sex that Oikawa had decided would act as the finale to everything.

 

Oikawa spends more time than he’d like to admit staring up at his bedroom ceiling, avoiding the conversation he knows he and Iwa-chan need to have today and yet acknowledging it’s the only way to proceed. They can’t keep going like this.

 

Eventually he steps out of his bedroom in boxer briefs and a t-shirt, walking into his kitchen to see that Iwa-chan has made himself right at home, standing in front of Oikawa’s rice cooker in nothing but his underwear, scooping out servings into two bowls.

 

“Mornin’,” he offers once he’s done, voice clear of sleepiness but expression still soft and relaxed as he sends a smile in Oikawa’s direction, placing the bowls onto the table. “You really need to keep on top of groceries, Oikawa. I checked through your fridge and cupboards and literally all there is is rice, eggs, and a bunch of condiments that are completely useless because you have no real food in here.”

 

Finally unfreezing in the doorway, Oikawa waves him off and moves to sit at his tiny kitchen table as Iwaizumi does the same. “I’ve been busy lately, Iwa-chan,” he says, pulling one serving of steaming rice closer to him and grabbing one of the eggs Iwaizumi had placed in a dish in the middle of the table. Tamago kake gohan isn’t his favourite breakfast meal - it's a meal for kids and broke college students mostly - but if his food stock really is as low as Iwaizumi is claiming then it’s the only viable option. “And don’t mother me so early in the morning, you’ll ruin my mood~”

 

Iwaizumi snorts but doesn’t deign to reply, and instead they both crack their eggs over the rice, dumping the shells back in the spare dish and waiting a few moments for the egg to begin to cook. Oikawa feels a gaze on him and flickers his eyes up to see Iwaizumi calmly regarding him from across the table.

 

“Last night was good,” the man says, almost careful in tone, head cocking just slightly to the side. Oikawa isn’t sure if he’s referring to hanging out with Matsukawa and Hanamaki or the torturously slow sex they’d had after getting home. Probably both, but that turns out to be beside the point.

 

Thinking about Iwaizumi’s insistence - my pace, Tooru - and the toe-curling pleasure he’d given him whilst the man looks at him, waiting for his response, Oikawa can’t help but blush. He turns his attention to the bowl in front of him, mixing his egg yolk into the rice with determination, letting out a breath when the action spurs Iwaizumi to do the same, temporarily distracting him.

 

Suddenly the air feels heavy with anticipation, and not the good kind that Oikawa is usually subjected to in Iwaizumi’s presence. They eat half of their breakfast with only the clacking of chopsticks breaking the silence, the atmosphere almost oppressive to Oikawa. There’s an elephant in the room, and his kitchen is tiny.

 

Evidently, Iwaizumi can’t take it any more because he sets his chopsticks down with a determined-sounding click. Oikawa takes a breath and, having expected this, calmly places his over the top of his bowl and raises his gaze to the other once again.

 

And because Iwaizumi is a blunt person, he wastes no words:

 

“Are you still seeing other people?”

 

Apparently all the mental prep he’d done that morning hadn’t been enough, because the question makes Tooru freeze in terror for a few tortuously-long seconds. He could lie, but he’s actually a terrible liar when it comes down to it. There’s a voice in his ear that sounds specifically like Makki which says tell him yes and then break it off with him and then another that has to be Mattsun that calmly says tell him the truth.

 

The silence after Iwaizumi’s question stretches longer and longer, Oikawa’s body not cooperating with him immediately when Iwaizumi’s eyes are pinning him down like that, but eventually he forces himself to say the word:

 

“No.”

 

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows raise, his lips move as if to say something, but Oikawa just takes another breath as his presses his palms flat to the plastic tabletop, long fingers spreading wide as he steels himself. Iwaizumi has ripped off the bandaid and yeah-- Oikawa needs to say this. There's never going to be a better opportunity than this to get it out - finally admitting it means he might not get another chance to have a discussion with Iwaizumi. The words come easy.

 

“I was at first, and it was fine. Even since the first time I always thought ‘man this was more fun with Iwa-chan’, but I never thought anything more than that, y'know? I like sex, I like feeling good and it’s never been that hard to find someone--” Wait, he’s going a bit off-track, right? But he can’t help it, because his heart’s beating fast and his breaths are coming too quick. The words tumble from his lips like they've been imprisoned for years and they have a glimpse at liberation. “And it’s just a casual thing right? It’s not like anything was going to happen with us, so sleeping with other people was the natural thing to do. You wouldn’t be here enough for me to get attached to you, so I could carry on as normal. It would be fine to meet up every so often, and even if I did feel something, well-- it’s just not possible to have a real relationship with someone who doesn’t even live in the same country as you, right?”

 

Iwaizumi looks concerned, and it bleeds into his voice. “Oikawa--”

 

Tooru shakes his head ‘no’, and pulls his hand away when Iwaizumi tries to take it in his own. He can’t stop now. He hasn’t been able to talk about this with anyone, not really, and Iwa-chan is the only one he’s wanted to talk to about his problems lately, anyway. He needs to get this out.

 

“Except after a while I found out that it wasn’t just me picking bad lays like I first thought, it was that no one else could make me feel as good Iwa-chan does. Not just during sex but other times too, on dates or taxi rides or - anywhere. And even getting texts from random people just got tedious because it wasn’t a text from Iwa-chan, because Iwa-chan isn’t going to reply to my texts for hours because he lives halfway across the world in a completely different timezone. And I was aware of all this, obviously, but I didn’t really notice I had stopped seeing other people until months later because I didn’t miss sex, I missed sex with Iwa-chan, and everything else about Iwa-chan, too. So what I’m saying is, it hasn’t been just a casual thing to me for a while and I should have said something earlier but in my defense I didn’t really think about it, it was only when I thought about Iwa-chan with other people that I realized how bad this is, and that’s not your fault but I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this anymore after all, so--”

 

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi cuts in, and Oikawa takes a gasping breath because he’s whipped himself into a frenzy with his rambling confession. He dares to look at Hajime and the other man’s gaze has not wavered. Oikawa presses his lips together and tries to suppress the miserable tremble threatening to take over his body. His eyes feel hot. He's never been good at masking strong emotions when he feels them, or keeping himself from hysteria.

 

“Oikawa.” It’s even firmer this time, and it does the job of reining Tooru’s attention in once more. Iwa-chan can make him snap into focus so easily and that says more than anything else, probably. “Ask me what I did yesterday.”

 

Oikawa knows what the other did yesterday, but Iwa-chan sounds so sure, like he means something by the question. Iwaizumi’s gaze is steady and calm, a consistent thread that keeps him and Oikawa connected in this moment. The familiarity of those flint eyes forces Oikawa’s subconscious to remember the trust he has in the other man so he does as he’s told, feeling utterly betrayed and how weak and wreck his voice sounds when he asks: “what did you do yesterday, Iwa-chan?”

 

“Well, I had a final-stage job interview for a transfer to the Tokyo office that’s been in negotiation for the past three months. I think it went pretty well.” There’s a quick pause, and after Oikawa processes that information he begins to feel a little light-headed. “Then this amazing guy I’m really into invited me out for drinks and I finally got to meet his best friends. Nice people, managed to resist threatening me while he was in the bathroom but I could tell they really wanted to.” Oikawa makes a choked sound, and it’s a mystery even to him whether it was meant to be a laugh or a sob. “And then he took me back to his apartment for the first time. He seemed really on edge but he was trying to hide it, just like the last couple of times I’d seen him, so I thought maybe, if I was lucky, he was thinking the same things as me.”

 

Iwaizumi smiles then, and Oikawa’s heart soars.

 

“He didn’t want to talk about it, though. I hate seeing him genuinely bothered about things, so I decided I’d make him feel good. Partly because I have an ego and I like to think no one can do that as good as me-” He stops to chuckle, and Oikawa realizes with great embarrassment that it’s because he’d been nodding eagerly in agreement to that last statement. This time, when Iwaizumi reaches over to take his hand, Oikawa doesn’t pull away, hope blooming in his chest. “But mostly because I really care about him and I feel like it's my responsibility to take care of him.”

 

“Tooru, last night wasn’t just sex. It was like-- uh, making love.” He says the last part in English, nose scrunching up in awkwardness and embarrassment, and thankfully, Oikawa's watched enough western romcoms to understand what he said completely. He squeezes Iwa-chan’s hand, marveling at how red the other is going; how utterly perfect he looks sitting in Oikawa’s kitchen in nothing but his underwear, tan skin warmed by the morning sunlight coming through the window, looking flustered and at home.

 

“And for the record, I’m not seeing anyone else, either. For basically the same reasons as you. You’re the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met, but you’re also the most unfairly beautiful and endearing person I’ve ever come across. I want to be serious about you -- No, I am serious about you. You’ve been skittish for a while, so I thought I’d make the first move.”

 

Oikawa wants to cry, maybe, but he’s laughing instead, the hysterical, happy sounds bubbling out of his throat even before he’s able to push himself up into a stand and round his shitty Ikea table to climb into Iwaizumi’s lap instead. This isn’t a dream, this is real, and he needs to be as close to Iwaizumi as he can possibly get.

 

It’s a bit of a scramble at first with his movement being so spontaneous - Iwaizumi has to support his weight for a second while he finds his position, comfortably seated on strong things with his own long legs akimbo on either side, toes brushing the lino floor. He takes Iwa-chan’s face in his hands, big brown eyes boring into the other’s.

 

“You’re moving to Japan for me?” he asks, breathless and terrified.

 

Iwaizumi snorts. “Don’t be stupid. It’s a promotion.”

 

Oikawa can’t help it - he tilts his head back and laughs, happy and excited and delightfully surprised.

 

“At first it was almost all about you," Iwaizumi admits, almost cringing at himself. "Then I realized that doing something like this for someone else is fucking stupid, and decided that living here was something I would do for myself, regardless of whether you wanted to make a real go of this thing or not. I've always liked coming here. I thought if I got approved it'd be nice to try out life in the motherland, even if only for a while...”

 

Iwa-chan is trying to take the pressure off of this, to say it’s okay if it doesn’t work out before it’s even begun. He’s so heartbreakingly thoughtful and kind, and privately Oikawa thinks he’s completely unworthy of Iwaizumi’s affections. Still with his hands on Iwaizumi’s cheeks, he leans forward to press their foreheads together. For some reason, he’s not worried at all about whether they’ll last or not. He has a really good feeling about this - but even if it doesn’t, Oikawa isn’t scared. Iwa-chan would never hurt him on purpose, would never take advantage of Oikawa’s feelings for him. That, he knows for sure.

 

“‘Only for a while’?” he asks, incredulous, because he just can't resist. “I thought you were serious about me?!”

 

The skin under Oikawa’s fingers goes red all over again, the heat of Iwaizumi's blush warming his fingertips and his heart. Iwaizumi huffs and pulls back just the slightest bit so he can look at Oikawa properly.

 

“Yeah well, you haven’t actually confirmed anything for me, so if you want, you can do that now.”

 

Oikawa stares.

 

He’s sitting in Iwaizumi’s lap, with the man’s face in his hands, visibly delighted.

 

“Iwa-chan, are you dumb?” he asks, and it’s comical to watch the way the familiar grumpy frown washes over the other’s face so quickly. “You’re the loveliest human I’ve ever met, and I have two of the most amazing best friends ever so that’s quite impressive. You send me pictures of dogs you meet and pet in the street, you look at me like I’m the only person in the room, and you say nice things about me in English when we have sex.” Iwaizumi blanches, as if he had no idea he even did that, and Oikawa chuckles at him for a second before continuing. “Even when you make fun of me, I’m just so happy because I know it’s not mean-spirited and you just love to tease me. And even though you’re definitely the Reacher in this relationship, I’m happy to be the Settler because I think you’re amazing and I’m just completely gone for you. I really like you, and I’m serious about you, too.”

 

“You just managed to insult me even while confessing to me. Amazing.”

 

Oikawa lifts his nose into the air imperiously, dropping his hands and instead wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

 

“You should be honored that I confessed to you at all,” he says snootily, sinking in the other’s warm embrace now that he doesn’t need to second guess every gesture, every touch. It feels amazing.

 

“I am.”

 

"Good," Oikawa sighs, smiling sweetly despite how pompous he'd just been. Iwaizumi's just so earnest and believable and it warms him all over. He moves his feet back so he can hook them around Iwaizumi's shins, pressing his cheek to the man's broad shoulder.

 

"Iwa-chan," he says after countless minutes have passed in contented silence, lips quirking when the other sends back an exasperated 'what' in response. "Now that we've admitted we like each other, can I come see you off at the airport when you leave? And pick you up, maybe?

 

Iwaizumi cranes his neck to look at Oikawa in puzzlement. He must see something in Tooru's eyes because instead of scolding him like he'd been about to, he sighs and pats his thigh. "Well, with me moving here soon it won't be happening that often. But if you don't have work I don't see why not?"

 

Oikawa feels so happy he could die.