Archive of Our Own

When Iwaizumi was younger, much younger, her family had a cat. It was some small, mildly chubby thing, a perfectly ordinary tabby with uninteresting markings and uninteresting habits. Its only redeeming feature, one it shared with Iwaizumi, was its obsession with a one Oikawa Tooru. 

The cat used to light up when Oikawa entered the room, tail shooting ramrod straight and purring like a freight train as it brushed up against her shins like a millimetre of separation would lead to its untimely demise. It would tangle itself up in-between Oikawa’s feet as she walked, cooing and letting out cute little trills that would make Oikawa giggle as she tripped over the damn thing. The cat could not get enough of her.

Returning from her quick after-class shower, Iwaizumi swung the door shut behind her. At the sound, Oikawa’s face froze into an expression Iwaizumi had only seen once before. It was hauntingly similar to the face the old tabby had made one evening when Oikawa was yet to return home after an impromptu TV marathon at the Iwaizumi household. The cat had managed to worm its way into Oikawa’s school bag, unnoticed, happy as a clam as it managed to hide for the better part of the afternoon. Its haunches were half-stuck and uncomfortably contorted against the large zipper, the bag much too small and too floppy to allow for proper cat-sitting, however, when Iwaizumi had stumbled onto the scene, the cat’s eyes filled with mirth and glee as it blinked up at the elementary-schooler, its body writhing around to somehow sneak further into the knapsack an in an effort to conceal itself. 

The cat had been caught, the mix of embarrassment and smug satisfaction oozing out with every flick of its tail. 

Guilty. Elated. 

Oikawa looked comically similar. 

“...What?” Iwaizumi hesitated at the entrance, afraid of some prank she had yet to spot in her tiny bedroom, where Oikawa lay sprawled out over Iwaizumi’s bed. Partially concealed by the comforter, Oikawa’s eyes narrowed in thought. 

"It’s nothing," Oikawa said, quick and harsh. She had never been a stellar liar, and that trait was further weakened as she found a lie to be much less comedic than the truth. 

Iwaizumi glanced down to make sure she hadn’t somehow forgotten to get dressed, or something. Upon a lack of obvious mistakes on her part, her attention flicked back to Oikawa. "What did you do?" 

"I didn't do anything." Oikawa paused, her usual shit-eating grin painting itself over pretty features.  With a smooth adjustment to face Iwaizumi properly, her face shifted, and Iwaizumi suddenly felt herself emphasizing with one of her cats old toys, caught between its paw and the kitchen tile. "Well,” Oikawa cooed, “I suppose the better question is what did you do?" 

Iwaizumi frowned.

Oikawa corrected herself, "What do you do?" 

Iwaizumi felt herself fall a beat behind the music. "I don't get it."

Oikawa's arm flung up from beneath the covers of Iwaizumi's bed, spindly setter fingers wrapped around something Iwaizumi couldn't quite identify. It was off-beige, thin, just a bit longer than Oikawa's fist- fuck. 

"Put that down, oh my god- "

Oikawa giggled, shrill and childish as Iwaizumi lunged for her, arm outstretched to pluck the toy out from between the seemingly inescapable grip of Oikawa's pale-pink manicured claws. 

"Iwa-chan has a vibrator? " She squealed incredulously, rolling over onto her stomach with the toy just beneath her, Iwaizumi climbing on top of her and tugging at the collar of Oikawa's shirt to pull her away from it. "God, how naughty-" 

"Shut up, no, I don't," Iwaizumi sputtered. 

Oikawa snorted. "Oh yeah, obviously, this is something else. Random squishy phallic-" 

Iwaizumi tugged at Oikawa's hair, earning her a gasp and a dramatic flip, the taller girl starfishing back atop Iwaizumi like she was shielding her from gunfire, back pressed against Iwaizumi's front and sandwiching her between the mattress while Iwaizumi wriggled beneath her. 

"It's not phallic."  

Oikawa stuck her arm out away from her chest, examining the toy while Iwaizumi grasped for it fruitlessly. 

"Hm, you make a good point. It's a bit more alien than that, don't you think?" She interrupted herself, gasping in excitement, "does Iwa-chan have an alien fetish? Is that why she refuses to watch the movies with me?" 

Iwaizumi elbowed her friend in her (perfect) boob, and Oikawa shrieked, promptly dropping the toy. In one quick motion, Iwaizumi grabbed it and flung her pillow against Oikawa's chest, sending her back against the bed with a resounding oof. 

Iwaizumi huffed, catching her breath while Oikawa hid beneath the pillow. 

"It's not- it's not anything. It's a perfectly normal vibrator." 

Oikawa hummed. "Hm. I guess Iwa-chan would have the most boring vibrator in the world." 

Iwaizumi smacked the top of the pillow, hand thwacking satisfyingly without really reaching her friend below. 

"It's normal.”

"It's boring,” Oikawa stated like she was the world’s leading expert in sexual experimentation, “It's like the Rae Dunn of vibrators. It's off-brand, it's plain. It looks like you took everything interesting about a sex toy and turned it into an oblong tube of nothing. I'm disappointed, frankly." 

Iwaizumi scoffed, suddenly feeling oddly defensive of the sex toy. The same toy she still held in her fist, for some reason. 

"You're taking all the fun out of a sex toy Iwa-chan. It's supposed to be, like, pink. Nine inches. Thrusting and throbbing and, like, stuff.” 

Iwaizumi froze, a creeping suspicion washing over her. “Oh yeah? What does yours look like?”

Oikawa stuck up her nose, long eyelashes fluttering closed in mock indignation. “I don’t have one. I’m a woman of God, Iwa-chan.”

“Bullshit. Remember the time you sucked off-“ 

“Blah, don’t bring that up again. Anyways,” She huffed, and Iwaizumi almost felt bad for teasing her. Almost, of course. Not really. 

“You really don’t have one?” Iwaizumi couldn’t picture it. Oikawa wasn’t particularly foul-mouthed, or horny, at least not around Iwaizumi, but she assumed she at least, well, masturbated. “So you what, just go at it… acoustic?” 

Oikawa shook her head haughtily. “Unlike you, I don’t have the urge.” 

“Bullshit. Again.” Oikawa might not be the horniest person Iwaizumi knew, but she certainly wasn’t sexless. She must have some urges, right? 

Oikawa pursed her lips, and shrugged. “Okay. I tried a few times and I got bored, ‘kay? Took too long, I don’t even know if I finished.” 

Iwaizumi rolled her eyes. “You’d know if you finished. It’s a pretty specific feeling.” 

Oikawa smirked, Iwaizumi’s pillow falling squarely into her lap as she sat up. “Oh I bet Iwa-chan knows sooo much about orgasms,” Iwaizumi scoffed, ignoring the hot flush as it painted itself across her face. “You’d know if you finished,” Oikawa mocked, “so you what, just go at it all the time? I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve seen it, if you’re just leaving it out for anyone to see on your bed-“ 

“I forgot, okay? I slept in, and I forgot I’d used it last night-“ Iwaizumi stopped, watching as her friend dutifully caught the slip of the tongue. 

“Last night?” Oikawa shrieked. “Was it good?” 

Iwaizumi gaped at her. “Was it good ?” 

Oikawa nodded, arms propping her chin up as her elbows pressed into the pillow, wide brown eyes blinking up at her in a way that made Iwaizumi’s stomach swoop down into her ankles. Oikawa looked at her with interest.  

“No, Shittykawa, I got the special kind of vibrator that feels bad.”

Oikawa groaned, but didn’t lean any further away from Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi was suddenly distinctly aware of the distance between them, or rather the lack of distance. Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa’s breath as she sighed, and felt the warmth of her thigh where it brushed up against Iwaizumi’s baggy gym shorts. Iwaizumi felt a drop of water drop from her own still-damp hair down the back of her neck. 

Oikawa’s eyes regained their lazer focus. 

“Do you watch porn? Do you need it to get off?” 

What few square inches of Iwaizumi’s face that remained not peach-pink suddenly reddened, heat reaching all the way to her ears. 

Oikawa didn’t stop. “Does Iwa-chan squirt? I know it doesn’t happen every time, and your toy didn’t really seem like the kind that goes inside-” 

“Oh my God, stop, stopstop stop-” 

Oikawa flung herself over Iwaizumi’s lap in mock outrage. “Iwaizumi,” she said firmly, blinking up at her friend with a forced seriousness that nearly kept Iwaizumi from shoving her palm over Oikawa’s pouting lips. Nearly. 

Oikawa licked a broad stripe over Iwaizumi’s hand. 

“Wait, gross, I just licked the hand you used to jerk off-” 

“I’ve washed it several times since then.” 

Oikawa cackled, shoulders shaking against Iwaizumi’s lap, then suddenly stilling. “Iwaizumi,” she cooed, “we’re best friends. If you can’t tell me whether or not you squirt, I’ll have to guess, and that’s probably way worse for you, honestly.” 

Iwaizumi rolled her eyes. 

“No really. I’m assuming it’s terrible, like I’m assuming you practically pee all over your-” 

“Oh my God, no, I don’t squirt. Are you happy?”

The smile that plastered itself across Oikawa’s face, wide and complete with dainty little crow’s feet that crinkled up her slim line of perfectly drawn-on eyeliner, was nothing short of malicious. “But you do watch porn?” 

The meat of Iwaizumi’s palm made swift contact with the space between Oikawa’s eyebrows, earning her a pathetic whine. 

“Sometimes. Satisfied?” 

“Not as satisfied as you, apparently.”  

“Get out.” Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa’s shoulders and half-heartedly shoved Oikawa such that her head and neck were left dangling over the mattress, looming over the floor such that the tips of Oikawa’s impossibly smooth hair brushed the cheap floor tile. She shrieked, grabbing the front of Iwaizumi’s shirt. 

“No- no no come on- ” Oikawa giggled, her heels making sweeping contact with the comforter as she half-heartedly fought to keep herself upright.

Iwaizumi let Oikawa find her bearings, giggling while she grasped Iwaizumi’s wrist and pushed herself upwards. In seconds, Iwaizumi found her friend – her much too tall, much too gangly friend – tucked up in her lap, blinking up from where she leaned against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. 

Iwaizumi gulped. Cute. 

“I can’t believe you don’t masturbate.” 

Hm. That wasn’t what she meant to say. 

Oikawa’s eyes widened slightly, then narrowed. Big brown eyes, flatteringly framed by clumps of uneven mascara, scanned for an expression Iwaizumi tried desperately not to give away. “I guess I’m just not that horny.” 

Pretty pink nails tugged at Iwaizumi’s shirt, jersey pulling away from her waist. Iwaizumi felt the scratch of Oikawa’s fingertips – felt the weight of her gaze. Oikawa’s hair still fell behind her, braid-firmed waves tickling the skin of Iwaizumi’s forearm where it lay, keeping her friend from falling back into the floor. 

Iwaizumi’s mouth was dry when she spoke, “bullshit.” 

Oikawa hummed, lips pressed tight into a thin smirk. Iwaizumi felt the sigh against her collarbone as the girl relaxed against her chest. 

“So how do you do it?” 

Now, there were a few ways to interpret that question. Iwaizumi could have made a joke about it. They’d been joking back and forth all day. Iwaizumi could have pushed any seriousness aside and continued needling Oikawa, whose fingers still played with the hem of Iwaizumi’s shirt. It was a nervous tic of Oikawa’s, keeping her hands busy. Setter’s instinct, maybe. Soft hands, well maintained, pink and toughened from her killer spikes, nails trimmed short and perfect. She painted them, used nice-smelling hand cream. Iwaizumi liked the feeling, the soft brush of Oikawa’s fingertips where they just barely grazed the skin of her hip, the way they scraped against the waistband of Iwaizumi’s gym shorts.

Iwaizumi could have avoided the question entirely; redirect the conversation. Oikawa was easily distracted when Iwaizumi tried hard enough. 

“How do I…” 

Iwaizumi’s tongue was heavy where it sat in her mouth. Oikawa’s gaze was just as frightening, intimidating as she stared up at Iwaizumi patiently. 

Oikawa chewed at her bottom lip, something seductive, maybe. On purpose or unconscious, worry bleeding in through the red flush. Cute. Again. “You know, how do you do it?” 

Iwaizumi huffed, hoping it would relax some of the tension in her spine. “Well, there’s only one button, it seems pretty self explanatory-” 

Oikawa smacked Iwaizumi’s shoulder, no real heat behind it. “No, like- Ugh.” Iwaizumi fought the urge to giggle. “What, you just… hold it still down there ‘till you finish?” 

Iwaizumi tried to think of a better way to describe it. “I mean, yeah. I guess.” 

Oikawa stuck her tongue out. “Boring. ” 

Iwaizumi laughed and it shook the pretty woman in her lap, who wriggled in discontentment. “What?” 

“Boring, just like your vibrator.” 

The heat kicked on, and Iwaizumi heard the hum of the vents as Oikawa adjusted herself to fit more securely in her lap. The room smelled faintly of dust, and with the heat of Oikawa’s limbs against hers and the heat of her blood beneath her skin, Iwaizumi had half a mind to haul her friend over onto the mattress and shut off the thermostat herself.

“Oh come on, like you can judge.” 

Oikawa shrugged. 

“What do you want me to say?” Iwaizumi pictured it for a moment, “it’s not one of the hot pink, throbbing ones you talked about earlier. You hold it against your… you know…” 

“Your clit,” Oikawa teased. 

Iwaizumi wondered if the heat travelling down across her chest could be felt against Oikawa’s back, thin t-shirts the only barrier between their skin. Iwaizumi sighed, “your clit, sure. You find an angle that feels good then you just kinda… wait for it.” 

“Boring.” 

Iwaizumi fought the urge to wave the arm she was using to support her gangly friend around in indignation. “Yeah, okay, my bad, I moan like a pornstar and shake it around like I’m being electrocuted, what do you think happens when you jerk off?” 

Oikawa’s eyes narrowed. Adjusting herself in Iwaizumi’s lap to face her a bit better, inescapable brown-eyed gaze narrowing in as her (admittedly great) ass dug into Iwaizumi’s thighs. The bed creaked under them, and the comforter tugged itself around Iwaizumi’s foot as Oikawa shimmied her legs just the slightest bit closer to Iwaizumi’s hips. 

Iwaizumi was still shower-damp, the chilled water running down her back distracting from the warmth of the bedroom. An en-suite was nice, easy access to the bathroom was a luxury in the field of student housing, but the steam from the shower was inescapable, the last remnants of it still clinging against the window at the foot of her bed. The room was warm, Oikawa was warmer, and her gaze was unflinching. 

“You should show me.” 

Iwaizumi furrowed her brows, and she felt her voice escape stiffly from deep within her chest, “what? ” 

Oikawa’s thumb soothed gently over Iwaizumi’s thigh, electric and sensitive as it brushed higher, fuck- Iwaizumi didn’t even know she was sensitive there, but her breath felt like toffee as she tried to gulp in some much needed air. 

“ Show me. I don’t believe you.” 

The air wasn’t even a safe refuge. The room smelled like Oikawa, her perfume, her shampoo. They used the same deodorant, but frankly it was Oikawa’s now, the scent lingering like Oikawa’s hand- 

“You don’t believe what?”

Oikawa sighed, but it was content. Oikawa’s happy place had always been teasing her best friend, why would that change now? “Iwa-chan isn’t that boring. I think you’d be much more exciting than you let on.” 

Iwaizumi shook her head, swallowing down the golf-ball sized lump of nerves parading around in her throat. “It’s really not that exciting,” she breathed, “I wasn’t exaggerating.” 

“It’s you. I bet it’s cute. Show me. ” 

Iwaizumi leaned back against the headboard, Oikawa following close behind. Her hand spidered up under Iwaizumi’s shirt, palm warm against her stomach, and oh, okay. Oikawa’s hand could stay there. Her hands should always stay there, actually. Against Iwaizumi’s skin, warm, soft- 

“Come on, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa’s cheek rested against Iwaizumi’s shoulder, hot breath lingering against the hollow of Iwaizumi’s throat. She smiled, and only Oikawa could make dimples work alongside the carnivorous intent that hid between perfectly straight teeth. “Too shy? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. We’ve showered together before.” 

“After practice. ” 

“Mm. Yeah, but what’s the big difference? I’ve seen you naked, c’mon, strip.” Oikawa’s thumb dipped below Iwaizumi’s belly button, and for a moment Iwaizumi worried that the still-swooping nerves in her stomach would be tangible against the setter’s pretty palm. 

Iwaizumi gulped, “what is this, peer-pressure?” 

Oikawa shrugged. “Yeah, but come on, what do you really have to hide? What, too afraid to show me your panties?”

Iwaizumi made a noise she wouldn’t admit to later, “I don’t wear panties.”

Oikawa’s seductive mask dropped for a moment, her hand freezing still against Iwaizumi’s waist. “You go commando? You’re kidding-"  

“No, not like-” 

“All the time? At practice? Iwa-chan-” 

Iwaizumi cut her off with as much dignity as she could muster, “no, God, I wear boxers. I’m not going commando at practice. Or ever. I wear- I wear boxers.” 

Oikawa snorted and it should have been unattractive, crinkled up nose and uncharitable giggles escaping like a dam had been let loose, but it wasn’t. Oikawa shook against Iwaizumi’s chest and it was nothing short of adorable, letting some of the pressure out of the room like a spike into an over-pumped bike tire. 

“Ha- Iwa-chan’s so butch-” 

The giggles were contagious, but Iwaizumi stuffed them down behind a poorly concealed smirk. “Shut up.”

“Iwa-chan wears boxers but still gets home and uses her girly little vibrator.” 

Iwaizumi shoved at Oikawa’s shoulder, soft enough to make sure that no part of the pretty girl was dislodged from how neatly she fit against Iwaizumi. “I thought you said it was boring? ” 

Oikawa shook her head decidedly, like Iwaizumi would risk disagreeing with her, like she would even attempt it. “Nah, it’s cute. You’re cute , Iwa. You’re blushing. ” 

“Shut up.” 

Oikawa nosed against Iwaizumi’s neck, and it was enough to make Iwaizumi’s jaw clack shut. The entire world shrunk to the size of Iwaizumi’s tiny dorm room as she felt the tickle of her lips against shower-clean skin. 

“Come on, Hajime. Show me your panties. ” 

Oikawa’s skin was so… warm. It was soft, where it pressed up against Iwaizumi’s own flesh, and Oikawa’s breathing was steady against Iwaizumi’s chest. It was an odd way to be prepositioned, all things considered, but with Oikawa’s doe eyes pleading seductively up at her, Iwaizumi couldn’t come up with any reasons against it. 

“If you want me to strip you’ll have to get off of my lap. ” 

Oikawa’s eyes brightened, equal parts excited and shocked, and she clambered off of Iwaizumi’s lap without hesitation, rolling herself over onto the remaining extent of the mattress. She watched, unflinchingly, as Iwaizumi slid her shorts down her thighs and tossed them onto the floor, Oikawa’s gaze fastening her to the bed like push pins into the wings of a dead butterfly. Iwaizumi was stuck in her own decisions, stuck with Oikawa’s needling, and her friend’s eyes stuttering down to greet Iwaizumi’s bare skin was nothing less than terrifying. 

“Satisfied?” Iwaizumi gulped out. 

Oikawa’s eyes flitted back up. “What?” 

Iwaizumi couldn’t make eye contact, but she tried her best to appear even the slightest bit confident. She gestures at her boxer shorts. “You know. No panties. ” 

Oikawa nodded, her expression morphing into something much less playful as Iwaizumi flopped back against her pillow, impact ruffling the comforter in a ripple away from her colder-than-ever frame. 

“You leave them on while you…” 

Iwaizumi shook her head, mouth dry. “You’re staring.” 

“I thought you were supposed to show me how you did it? Of course-” Oikawa’s face scrunched up, like she meant to make some sort of witty half-remark, or a seductive glance, but altogether overshot either of those objectives. “Of course I’m staring, Iwa,” she sighed, “C’mon. Show me.”

Iwaizumi slid her boxers down over her hips, and ignored the way Oikawa’s pink tongue swept over her pretty lips. 

Oikawa grinned. Iwaizumi wondered if squeezing the vibrator too hard would shatter the inner mechanisms, rendering her demonstration null and void.

The room was eerily quiet, save for the sound of Iwaizumi’s blood as it pumped through her veins, echoing in her ears and ricocheting around in her skull. As she brought the vibrator between her legs, she nearly jumped as Oikawa snaked her way up the mattress, flush against Iwaizumi’s side. The girl lay beside her like it was a normal evening, ever-so-slightly entwined against Iwaizumi’s side, fitting themselves together so effortlessly. It was almost normal, if Iwaizumi’s skin wasn’t freckled with goosebumps where she lay half-naked, or if Iwaizumi couldn’t hear the rasp of Oikawa’s breath beside her. 

“You ready?” Iwaizumi joked, as if it was Oikawa’s who was building up her meager courage. She didn’t expect the soft nod against her shoulder as her companion dragged her thumb over Iwaizumi’s hip, watching the hot flush of Iwaizumi’s skin beneath her iron-brand fingerprints. 

“Mmhm,” Oikawa purred. 

Iwaizumi pressed the fat button on the side of the vibrator, and gasped as if it was the first time she’d ever heard it. She heard the faint pop of Oikawa’s mouth as it parted, felt the sharp intake of air as she pressed the vibrator to her… well, as Oikawa had so eloquently put it, her clit. A volt of electricity spread from her hips to the pool deep beneath her stomach, and she tensed up, eyes shuttering closed as she leaned back against the pillow. Oikawa was eerily silent.

Iwaizumi felt a soft noise growing in the hollows of her chest, and stifled it as best she could. She certainly wasn’t loud, under any normal circumstances. She was near-silent, usually. Something about Oikawa, her best friend, pressed up beside her and panting against her neck as though she were the one with the toy beneath her legs, made her… God, Iwaizumi didn’t even know how it made her feel. Oikawa watched, entranced, by the soft little motions of Iwaizumi’s wrist as she tried to move normally, the way she had last night. 

Fuck. Last night. What had she done last night? Iwaizumi scraped the corners of her mind to remember what she’d been thinking about when she’d deftly gotten herself off before drifting off to sleep. 

Oikawa wasn’t wrong before. Iwaizumi did watch porn. Nothing too exciting, and typically of the female-centric variety. Iwaizumi didn’t think too hard about it, but liked to watch pretty girls, head tossed back in what was probably artificial pleasure as they moaned and shook against their partners. Sometimes they were alone, sometimes they were with another girl, sometimes even with some random guy. Iwaizumi would watch those ones with scrutiny, but she’d watch them anyway. That’s what she was watching last night. Some guy, fucking messily into this girl- God was she pretty. Long hair, pale skin, head tossed back as she whimpered… She was slender, and dramatic, wide eyes and pink lips like all the best adult film stars. This one reminded Iwaizumi of someone, however. 

She looked like Oikawa. 

Iwaizumi huffed as she adjusted the vibrator, surprising herself as Oikawa adjusted accordingly, looking up at Iwaizumi’s face rather than down at the ‘boring’ vibrator. 

“You’re staring. ” 

Oikawa didn’t deny it. “You look hot, Iwa.” 

Iwazumi’s hand stuttered. “What?” 

Oikawa’s lips brushed against Iwaizumi’s shoulders, and her hand traced over Iwaizumi’s thigh, closer and closer to- 

“I said you look hot. ” 

Iwaizumi turned off the vibrator and flopped back against the pillow, gasping for air. 

“I can’t- you know, if you’re so curious, why don’t you try it out?” 

Oikawa pulled back, only slightly, and furrowed her brows. “Are you sure?” 

Iwaizumi nodded. “Mmhm. Totally sure. Very sure.” 

“You don’t want to finish? 

Not with you staring at me, I don’t. Not without suddenly explaining a few new things. 

“No, I- No.” 

For a moment, Oikawa seemed skeptical. Expression creeping over her face as though she were disappointed, while a few stray glances at the toy in Iwaizumi’s hand seemed to betray otherwise. 

“Fine.” 

Oikawa flopped back against the mattress, mirroring the position Iwaizumi had been in only moments before. Iwaizumi ignored the electro-shocks that travelled over her skin as she sat up. The pounding in her chest slipped into a faint echo as Oikawa stripped, leggings tugged down over her ankles to be kicked off unceremoniously. 

Iwaizumi looked up a pair of endlessly long legs and resisted the urge to whistle. 

“So this is why you talked so much about-” 

“Shut up- ” 

“Panties,” Iwaizumi breathed. 

Oikawa’s legs were still tucked up, knees pressed together in hesitation, but Oikawa’s undergarments were still well on display over the smooth plane of her hips; pink, as if she’d chosen to match them to her fresh manicure. A little bow sat at the base of her stomach, cute where it sat against the hem. 

“These are adorable.” 

Oikawa stuck her tongue out in admonishment, tucking her legs even closer to her chest. “Mean, Iwa-chan, ” she moped, while Iwaizumi grinned. 

A sigh escaped from Iwaizumi as she fought the urge to laugh. “C’mon, Tooru- ” Iwaizumi ignored the way Oikawa’s pupils dilated, “show me your- ” 

Oikawa threw Iwaizumi’s pillow half-assedly in her direction, cutting her off with a giggle. The laugh faded away as Oikawa tugged the cute underwear over her thighs and tugged them off with her foot, spreading her legs in a way Iwaizumi would be thinking about probably for the rest of her young, virgin life. 

Holy shit. 

Iwaizumi’s mind was suddenly filled to the brim with radio static, heat painted over her face like a switch had been flipped somewhere against Iwaizumi’s spinal cord. Oikawa leaned back against the pillows, eyes closed as if it would seem more normal, more fictional, but Iwaizumi couldn’t ignore the pretty girl spread out in front of her like an offering, fingers playing with her own t-shirt hem as she avoided the gaze Iwaizumi was certain seemed altogether carnivorous. 

Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was hot. She knew she was pretty. But this? This was sexy. This was stunning. Iwaizumi wondered if she could recite every entry she could think of in the thesaurus without getting bored of staring at Oikawa’s skin, the way she shook against the comforter, the way she looked pointedly in any direction other than Iwaizumi in a display that was so uncharacteristically shy that Iwaizumi could feel her mouth actually begin to water. 

“Fuck, dude, you’re so hot.” 

Oikawa whined, and Iwaizumi wondered if you could be so turned-on that it could actually kill you. 

“Don’t- don’t call me dude when I’m naked in your bed.” 

Iwaizumi felt her heartbeat in her ears, the heat of the room suddenly oppressive against her skin. As Oikawa shied away from her friend’s gaze, nearly all of her smug confidence melted away into Iwaizumi’s bed sheets. The soft swish of Oikawa’s even-softer legs against the comforter the only sound audible above their shared heavy breathing. Iwaizumi drank in every exposed inch of her friend, the delicate crease of her thigh meeting her hips, the smooth skin of her stomach where her shirt rode up, the pink flush as it spread underneath her collar in tandem with the goosebumps tickling across her arms where they lay crossed in front of her chest.

Iwaizumi suddenly understood how artists felt when they first discovered their muse; finding a girl so beautiful she should be captured in acrylic or oil or marble for all of eternity. Finding someone so incredible that the artist could claim it with brushstrokes and a signature in the bottom right corner. Iwaizumi couldn’t decide whether she wanted to hang painting after painting of her friend in the Louvre, to share with the world, or keep her all to herself, buried in blankets of Iwaizumi’s bed for her to smother for the rest of their lives. 

Suffice to say, Iwaizumi saw Oikawa half-nude and had never been hornier in her young life. 

Oikawa’s voice was jittery, laced with honey. “So, what now?” 

“Huh?” Iwaizumi wondered if opening her mouth would allow for her rapidly fluttering heart to escape, falling out on Oikawa’s heaving chest. 

“Do I just… do what you did, then?” Oikawa tilted her head gently to the side, invitingly. “Just… put it down there?” 

Before she could hesitate, Iwaizumi shook her head. 

Oikawa furrowed her brows. “Why not?” 

Iwaizumi considered it. That’s what she did, sure. Just find the right angle, bang it out, then go to sleep, mostly. But this is different, this is her first time, this is her first time beneath Iwaizumi, so pretty and willing and obliging. Iwaizumi wanted to make it good. Iwaizumi wanted to make it great. What did she do, then? When she wanted to make it good? 

“Well… There are a few things you have to do first. Can do, I guess.” Iwaizumi sat back on her knees. 

Oikawa leaned back against the pillows, patiently. “Like what?” 

“You have to be at least a little turned-on to start. Or else it’s all just a bit tedious-”

“That’s not a problem.” 

Iwaizumi paused. “What?” 

Oikawa reconsidered, worrying her lip beneath her perfectly straight white teeth. “I mean, I meant what I said. You looked hot.” 

Iwaizumi’s mind went fuzzy, half-flattered, half-mortified. Pink travelled up the back of her neck, heat radiating away from her skin almost as ferociously as the pretty, warm girl beneath her. 

“That’s… good then. The next step is to kinda…” Iwaizumi pulled back on her heels, hands pressing against her own stomach. Her own thumbs traced the hem of her sports bra. 

“Kinda what? ” Oikawa pressed.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “You work up to it,” she smoothed over the jersey material of her t-shirt. 

Oikawa was warm, warm everywhere. Between her spread legs, the smooth-shaven skin of her ankles brushed up against Iwaizumi’s thighs, light and gentle strokes as she nervously tapped her toes against the mattress. Iwaizumi’s hands smoothed further over herself, over the tops of her thighs where she still lay exposed, over her peach fuzz skin and down to her knees. 

Oikawa followed along, attentive brown eyes flicking over the gentle movements of Iwaizumi’s fingers like she was studying them for an exam— like she was committing each nerve twitch to memory. 

Her hands skittered over her own skin nervously, cautiously mirroring Iwaizumi’s movements. 

Cute. Again. 

Iwaizumi fought the urge to smirk and lost, apparently, as Oikawa froze with a petulant frown. 

“What are you so pleased about?” 

Iwaizumi considered lying, considered coming up with something infinitely smoother to say, but decided against it. “You look pretty from this angle. Cute. Like this.” 

Oikawa’s eyes widened a fraction, and there was nothing more satisfying than the warm melt of her brow, or the paint of red across her nose. She giggled, glancing over to the pattern of the sheets like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Well,” Oikawa sighed, “I guess you’re not the worst thing to look at from here either, Iwa.”

Iwaizumi shoved her teasingly, hardly rough enough to shake wrinkles into her blouse and Oikawa shrieked like she did the last time Iwaizumi shoved her cold fingertips under the collar of her uniform. Iwaizumi kept her hands pressed flat Oikawa’s flat stomach, resisted ever so slightly by her friend’s quick breaths as she caught herself from giggling too harshly. 

Lips pressed into a tight grin, Oikawa tried her best to seem unaffected by Iwaizumi’s ministrations, little circles pressed into her skin by Iwaizumi’s wandering thumbs. 

Iwaizumi felt the words as they settled heavy against her tongue before she found the courage to speak. 

“Want me to show you how to do it?” She murmured, hands curling under the hem of Oikawa’s shirt. 

Oikawa nodded without hesitation, eyes shuttering closed as she leaned further into Iwaizumi’s pillows. Iwaizumi followed her lead, tracing over her stomach, tracing peach fuzz passing up past her navel until she reached Oikawa’s bra. 

Correction— where Oikawa’s bra would be. Instead, Iwaizumi’s fingers traced up her sternum as Oikawa’s shirt hoisted up over Iwaizumi’s wrists. 

“You’re not wearing-“ 

Oikawa tugged her shirt off with zero hesitation. 

Iwaizumi groaned.

“Holy fuck. ”

Oikawa chuckled, and hints of embarrassment creeped in through the tension of Oikawa’s thighs where they bracketed Iwaizumi’s hips. “You’ve seen me before-“

Iwaizumi fought the urge to crumble like she’d been shot, knowing it would only lead to even more proximity to the most perfect breasts anyone had ever been blessed with, ever. “You’re insane.” 

“They’re just-“

“You’re perfect. Everywhere. It’s unfair.” Iwaizumi ignored her protests. 

Oikawa kicked the back of Iwaizumi’s legs, half-assed and challenging to reach given the angle, but it was enough to make them both wobble, Iwaizumi’s hands curled around Oikawa’s ribs to steady herself. 

“Jealous, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa mumbled, eyes focused on the ceiling. 

Iwaizumi snorted, “hardly.” Oikawa whined, offended, complaints falling on deaf ears. “I don’t look like you, I don’t think anyone could look like you. You’re so…. So.” 

Oikawa met eye contact for a moment, and spindly fingers curled around Iwaizumi’s wrists. She tugged Iwaizumi’s hands over her chest, and Iwaizumi felt as though her brain was dripping warmly down the back of her throat.

Oikawa curled inwards, shyness unfamiliar as it spread across her features. “You’ve seen me naked before, Iwa-chan,” she teased. 

Iwaizumi shook her head. “Not like this. You’re- you’re in my bed. God- you’re so hot. ”

Oikawa giggled, and Iwaizumi felt the nerves bubble out from beneath her skin like champagne. 

“Iwa-chan is too cute, she can’t even handle a pair of tits.”

“Listen it’s not my fault you’ve got the best-”

Iwaizumi felt Oikawa’s fingers as they traced the underside of her wrist, and Oikawa’s skin beneath her palms as it freckled with goosebumps. 

“Come on, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sighed, ‘finish your demonstration.” 

Iwaizumi wondered for a moment where her pretty friend had stored up that meager amount of courage, where she found the confidence to voice her small demand. She wondered how Oikawa’s nails felt so perfect against her skin, crescent-moon indents where her fingers gingerly guided Iwaizumi’s hands to be harsher, to keep going. Iwaizumi wondered if too many lines were being crossed all at once, if, as a friend, she had a responsibility to pull back and retreat away from a ruined friendship. 

Yet again, as someone who so desperately wanted to keep touching Oikawa, she nodded wordlessly and continued. 

“So,” Oikawa mumbled beneath gentle caresses, shivers evident as she wriggled beneath Iwaizumi’s touch, “heavy petting. Then what?” 

Iwaizumi’s lips felt the ghost of Oikawa’s skin despite the distance, every muscle wondering what her friend’s chest, shoulder, neck would feel like against her wanting mouth. With Oikawa’s hesitant glances towards Iwaizumi’s tongue as she ran in under her incisor, maybe she was thinking something similar. Iwaizumi couldn’t think about it too hard– not yet, anyways. 

“Mm- ” Oikawa’s voice caught in her throat as Iwaizumi softly ran her thumb across satiny smooth skin beneath her porn-star perfect nipple. Groping her with a bit more intention, Iwaizumi could feel the tense of Oikawa’s abs beneath her own, the flex of her hand where it sat at the curve of Iwaizumi’s waist. 

Iwaizumi pressed herself impossibly closer, encouraging Oikawa’s legs to wrap around her so they could be chest-to-chest. Warm gasps traced against Iwaizumi’s neck as she rubbed circles into Oikawa’s smooth inner thigh, and without thinking, Iwaizumi pressed her lips against the delicate cord of Oikawa’s neck. 

The girl beneath her gasped, then sloppily pawed at the back of Iwaizumi’s shirt. Iwaizumi pulled back cautiously for only a millisecond before heavenly pink lips were planted against her own. 

“Iwa- ” Oikawa’s hands buried themselves in Iwaizumi’s hair, acrylics against the nape of her neck as her breath collided hot against Iwaizumi’s own. Oikawa kissed like a woman starved, clinging to Iwaizumi like she’d disappear if given an inch of freedom, and Iwaizumi quickly discovered that she herself was all hands. Iwaizumi couldn’t get enough, groping at her like some brainless teenage boy, her mind completely empty with every little noise Oikawa let escape against her lips. 

She was vocal, which came as no surprise when Iwaizumi thought about it for even a single second. She was chatty, of course, both in normal conversation and on the court, calling shots like her voice was the single most deserving of any airtime. In this case, Iwaizumi couldn’t think of a single thing more appealing than the little whimpers of the woman beneath her, the satisfied little hums as Iwaizumi kissed down her jaw, down the line of her neck. Iwaizumi let her tongue trace over the tense muscle trailing down towards her chest and Oikawa moaned, vibrations delicate as they reverberated across Iwaizumi’s fingers as they tilted her jaw to give Iwaizumi easier access to porcelain skin. 

Iwaizumi kept at it, kissing and mumbling nothing in particular against sugary-sweet perfumed skin, but before she could reach God’s most perfect tits, Oikawa tugged at Iwaizumi’s hair in warning. 

Mouth foolishly agape, Iwaizumi looked up. 

Oikawa was pressed into the pillows, pink trailing down each of the trails Iwaizumi had followed, nipping at her like a particularly inexperienced vampire. It had been sufficient, clearly, in melting Oikawa like hot toffee into the comforters, the brunette’s eyes flickering shut as she fought to catch her breath. 

“Too much?” Iwaizumi rested her forehead against Oikawa’s shoulder, realizing just how lightheaded she herself felt in the heat of the plain dorm room. She felt Oikawa’s shake of her head more than she saw it, manicured fingers trailing over her spine. 

“No, no, it’s good. Just… a lot,” Oikawa breathed.

Iwaizumi tilted her head up to read Oikawa’s expression. 

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” She wondered aloud, certain she remembered Oikawa telling her about it in near-unsettling detail. “You’re not a virgin.” 

Oikawa tugged Iwaizumi’s wrist to her lips, a butterfly delicate kiss pressed against her pulse point where Iwaizumi’s heartbeat lay pounding beneath her skin. “That’s different,” Oikawa said like it was obvious, “they were boys. I don’t like them like that.” 

Iwaizumi furrowed her brow. “You sleep with them, don’t you?” 

Oikawa shook her head, then paused. “Well, yeah, but not for like, a year. ” 

When Iwaizumi combed through her Oikawa stories folder in her mind, she supposed that was true. She hadn’t put a ton of thought into it, really. But that meant-

“So you’re gay? ” She said, a bit too quickly and a bit too loud. 

Luckily, Oikawa only chuckled in response. “Iwa-chan is gay, it’s not all that surprising, is it?” 

“So you’ve been sleeping with girls then? Instead of boys?” Iwaizumi felt the thought sit unpleasantly in the back of her mind, like ice water dripping down her spine. 

Oikawa shook her head, scratching at the neatly shaven hair at the back of Iwaizumi’s neck. She’d always liked it, ever since Iwaizumi had cut it short, fuzz against her fingertips while she cooed at Iwaizumi’s change of style. “Not yet,” she teased, “I was waiting for you to figure it out. 

Oikawa tugged Iwaizumi up for another kiss, a second, a third. 

The tension faded away from Iwaizumi’s shoulders, smoothed out by Oikawa’s careful palms. “You said this is different, then?” 

“This is you, ” Oikawa breathed, “It’s better.” 

It was Iwaizumi’s turn to hum in contentment as Oikawa stole every gasp of breath from Iwaizumi’s lungs, practiced dainty kisses melting deeper and deeper until Iwaizumi felt the urge to bury herself in Oikawa’s arms, caging herself in like she suffocated against Oikawa’s lips. It seemed that Oikawa had bigger and better plans, however, as she adjusted back onto the pillows, distancing herself ever so slightly from the eager woman between her legs. 

“We’re getting distracted, ” She purred. Iwaizumi kissed down past the hollow of Oikawa’s neck, soft-tongue kisses across the swell of her breast as Oikawa whined deliciously in mock discontent. 

Peeled back by the collar of her shirt like a kitten by its scruff, Iwaizumi met Oikawa’s eyes. 

“You’ve got the best tits,” Iwaizumi said plainly. 

“You said that already.” 

“I’m saying it again.” 

Oikawa giggled, and pushed Iwaizumi back to sit on her knees. 

“Show me the next step.” 

Iwaizumi took a moment to catch up, eyes sweeping down, down. Right. Iwaizumi was supposed to be showing her how to get off. Deep within her stomach, she found herself with renewed dedication to her cause, Oikawa’s legs spreading tantalizingly with a soft swish of the sheets. 

Now, Iwaizumi wasn’t a religious woman. She hadn’t been raised as such. But in this moment, Oikawa propped up like goddess amongst Iwaizumi’s polka-dot-print bedsheets, Iwaizumi suddenly understood the all-consuming desire to worship. This was certainly inspirational; passion-inducing. To the beautiful woman, panting and melting in front of her, Iwaizumi understood what it was like to yearn to devout one’s entire life to a single purpose. 

At this moment, the single purpose was clear. 

Make Oikawa Tooru feel good. Very good. Over and over again. For the rest of her young life. 

“Whip it out.” 

Iwaizumi balked. “What? ” 

“Your vibrator," Oikawa scoffed, “I’m ready now. Let’s hop to it.” 

Iwaizumi made a face. “We’re not hopping to anything. There’s one more step, anyways.” 

“You know, when you were demonstrating there was a lot less fanfare,” Oikawa groaned.

Iwaizumi settled herself back between Oikawa’s legs. “Did I come? No. We’re doing this properly.” 

Oikawa stuck out her tongue, but her attitude was quickly lost as Iwaizumi dragged a delicate fingertip along the line of her inner thigh, up, up-

“Don’t tease.”

Iwaizumi settled her weight onto her side, leaning across one perfect thigh to keep tracing along the other. “That’s the point. You have to build up to it. Do things that feel better and better, get closer and closer-” 

Oikawa whined. “I’m plenty close, Iwa-chan. I want you to touch me. Properly. ” 

The bed creaked as Iwaizumi twisted to kiss the smooth plane of Oikawa’s stomach, down to the crevice of her sleek hip bones. Oikawa kept things relatively tidy, like she meticulously took care of everything else in her life, however Iwaizumi was pleasantly surprised to find an inviting trail of peach fuzz left intact, perfect for tracing lightly with her lips. Oikawa was uncharacteristically silent as her stomach tensed. 

“Just trust me, okay?” 

Oikawa nodded. 

With careful attention, Iwaizumi kissed. She kissed Oikawa’s hips, her stomach, her thighs. She ran her tongue along Oikawa’s previously neglected other inner thigh, and Oikawa moaned. Really, truly moaned, much to the surprise of the both of them. Iwaizumi nipped at sensitive skin, sucking, and- perfect. A pretty little mark sat between otherwise unblemished skin, and Oikawa huffed with impatience. 

“Please, ” Oikawa said gently, catching her breath. “I want-” 

“I know.” 

Iwaizumi sat up. “Is it okay if I-” 

“I’m killing myself if you don’t.” 

Iwaizumi considered Oikawa’s empty threat. “Fair enough.” 

Now, although Iwaizumi considered herself to be fairly familiar with her own anatomy, and despite her established preference for women, she was well out of her typical depths with this. Oikawa was lying beneath her, beautiful, perfect, expectant, and although Iwaizumi was fairly certain that just about anything would be well-received to her worked-up friend, she’d heard of how badly some people were able to completely screw up a relatively simple act. 

Luckily, Oikawa took a deep breath, and without hesitating Iwaizumi mirrored it. She tried not to stare too perversely at the gently rise and fall of Oikawa’s chest, or the sultry gaze peering over blush-pink cheeks.

If Iwaizumi had thought about it (she had, that was simply something she’d never admit out loud), she would have expected Oikawa to be rather demanding in the sheets. Not mean, per se, not to Iwaizumi at least, but strict, enforcing of her desires in a way Iwaizumi would have been happy to oblige. However here, now, Oikawa was wordless, a squeak (for lack of a better word) escaping her upon initial contact of Iwaizumi’s body-warm hands, a gentle mewl as Iwaizumi found a rhythm that made Oikawa’s abs tense. 

Oikawa was responsive; she was vocal, demonstrative with nearly every muscle in her body, invitingly spread for Iwaizumi’s damn near consumption as her fingers deftly played Oikawa like an instrument, gentle circles and small, tight motions exactly where she very much hoped Oikawa would enjoy. She didn’t tell Iwaizumi what to do, didn’t correct her, she just patiently sat back and received what Iwaizumi was willing to give her, and despite coming as a surprise, it certainly wasn’t an unpleasant one. 

Iwaizumi kissed Oikawa’s sternum, a little too far down the bed to do much else. Her mouth travelled down her chest once more, and rested her cheek against the tense muscle of her stomach. Soft. Oikawa was so soft, her skin smooth against every inch to which Iwaizumi had been able to plaster herself. 

Beyond the sounds, beyond her fingers clenching into a fist in Iwaizumi’s comforter, Oikawa was responsive where Iwaizumi’s hand gently brought her motion after motion of pleasure. 

To be straightforward, Oikawa was wet. Thighs tight around Iwaizumi’s wrist, Oikawa was silky and sensitive and completely unbelievable. 

Oikawa buried her hand in Iwaizumi’s hair and combed through it unexpectedly, a faint pop of her lips the only sound preceding a breathless laugh. 

“Cheater, ” Oikawa teased, although Iwaizumi was slow to the punchline. 

She propped herself up to see Oikawa’s face properly over her (again, perfect, Iwaizumi could not emphasize this more) breasts. “What’s wrong?” 

Oikawa was red, a hint of sweat beading at her hairline like she’d run the first few laps at practice, then stopped to lean against Iwaizumi while she tantalizingly drank from her frankly un-sexy absurdly orange water bottle. The red was attractive, not that Iwaizumi was particularly surprised. Oikawa was always attractive, and there was something about her ferocity at practice and tournaments that made Iwaizumi want to drown in the confidence Oikawa seemed to exude, whether she be perfectly pristine, or red-faced and sweating like she’d run a marathon. 

Like this, panting and curled up half around Iwaizumi’s arm and chest, humming with contentment, Iwaizumi wondered if Oikawa’s sweat would suddenly be triggering some mortifying pavlovian response from this point onwards. 

Oikawa huffed her bangs out of her face, and met Iwaizumi’s eyes. “You said you’d let me try the vibrator, right?” She cooed, and Iwaizumi had no reason to reject her offer, yet let her continue. “C’mon, Iwa-chan. You can make me come like this another time.” 

With another breathless kiss, Iwaizumi lifted herself briefly away from her friend to paw at the comforter in search of the palm-sized silicone toy. After a not at all embarrassing few moments, she settled herself back between Oikawa’s legs. 

Iwaizumi bit her bottom lip in consideration. “It can be a bit much, okay? Just… as a warning.” 

Oikawa scoffed, “You didn’t flinch, Iwa-chan, I hardly think I’ll be any different.” 

I’ve used it before, Iwaizumi considered. I’m used to it. These thoughts, however, didn’t actually deter her from bringing it between Oikawa’s legs, and pressing the button embedded into the soft silicone. 

The thigh trapped between Iwaizumi’s legs tensed enough that she could feel it, she watched as Oikawa stiffened as she brushed up against her, rubbing gently back-and-forth with the small toy, just as she had done with her finger tip. Oikawa shuddered, full body shuddered, breath held with a gasp as she buried herself in the pillow. 

“Mmph- ” She moaned, spit-click mouth pressed against Iwaizumi’s pillowcase. “Feels good. ” 

Iwaizumi kissed Oikawa's neck, other hand groping mindlessly at the curve of Oikawa’s hip. Still mostly-nude herself, the little whines and whimpers Oikawa let out with each little motion of her hand made heat pool within her own stomach, nerves and arousal buried in her chest as she tried not to pay attention to how easy it would be to seek her own pleasure against Oikawa’s thigh. Iwaizumi knew Oikawa could feel how aroused she was, her own heat pressed against her friend’s skin while she flicked her wrist in careful motions. 

She adjusted, and Oikawa groaned, pressed the toy firmer against where it seemed to feel the best and let it rest, Oikawa’s mouth falling open wordlessly. 

“Tell me if you want something else-” 

Oikawa’s hips twitched, and she whined, “no, don’t move- keep-” Iwaizumi must have shifted ever so slightly, because her groans shifted to those of frustration, a great release of her breath sending her chest heaving as she caught up to herself. Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa fought to find the right words as they bounced around in her brain, too scattered to spill out over her tongue. 

“Feels good, ” Oikawa breathed, and Iwaizumi laughed against her neck. 

“You said that already.”

Oikawa batted her against the arm with a still-shivering hand, and Iwaizumi moved back into position. 

The sharp inhale just below her sat warmly in her stomach, and Oikawa’s prettily shuttered eyes flickered as she let the feeling of the vibrator settle in. 

“You’ve really never done this before?” Iwaizumi murmured, “it’s relaxing, once you get used to it.” 

Oikawa seemed to disagree, gasping as Iwaizumi pressed firm little circles against her. Again. Again. Again. 

Iwaizumi’s mind kept racing. “You said you’ve tried getting off, but never got there, right? I hope it still felt good,” she breathed, pausing to sweep down Oikawa’s form just a little, gathering the slick that she could still feel on the pads of her fingers, gliding smoothly to return back to the spot that (hopefully) made Oikawa’s vision go blurry. “Sometimes you don’t even need to get off, it’s just nice-” 

“Please, ” Oikawa begged, and Iwaizumi could have collapsed right then and there, “I want to-” 

Iwaizumi kissed under her jawline, and nodded against her skin. “I’ll make you come, don’t worry about that.” 

Oikawa’s skin, still hot to the touch, beaded further with sweat as her moans increased in pitch, gently rolling her hips to meet the ministrations of Iwaizumi’s mighty little toy. 

When she finally came, it surprised both of them. Oikawa gasped, then pressed her lips into a tight line as she focused on following the feeling, and Iwaizumi tried her best to keep consistent as Oikawa’s legs twitched ever so slightly, and a low moan escaped from her throat. 

Iwaizumi carried on for a moment, pulling away only when Oikawa damn-near lurched forward, grabbing at Iwaizumi’s wrist. 

The aftershocks were something of beauty, Oikawa’s still-shut eyes flickering as she gulped for air, and trills of electricity sent her limbs twitching with eager pleasure. Iwaizumi watched, enraptured, and so fucking turned-on as Oikawa mumbled her thanks, over and over until she tugged Iwaizumi closer to kiss her, open-mouthed and clumsy. 

“Mm. Iwa.” 

Iwaizumi giggled, “worth it, right?” 

Oikawa nodded. “You were right,” she swallowed. “It’s a specific feeling.” 

Iwaizumi lost herself in Oikawa’s soft lips, chasing her deeper and deeper until Oikawa’s hands stroked gently up and down her back, nails scratching gently into her shirt.

“Your turn,” Oikawa spoke against her, still half-gasping for composure.   

Now, although the idea was appealing, Iwaizumi was actually more than content with never again removing herself from Oikawa’s side; not for class, not for practice, not to eat, or sleep, or drink, nothing. For all intents and purposes Iwaizumi could never again move a single muscle, plastered to Oikawa’s warm skin as she caught her breath and pressed her lips, her tongue against her friend’s collarbone. Oikawa didn’t need to touch her, not really, she just needed to lie back and lounge against the cheapest double mattress money could buy, in the shittiest dorm room, in the shittiest little college town. Oikawa was the prettiest glue trap, invented solely to drag Iwaizumi in like a naive little mouse, perfectly accepting of her fate. 

However the idea of getting off also seemed just a little appealing. 

Oikawa switched their positions lazily, mostly tongue and hands and easy distractions until Iwaizumi was pressed up against her own bed, Oikawa nipping down the side of her neck like some witless vampire. 

Long brunette waves bracketed Iwaizumi in, and despite Oikawa tossing her hair back mindlessly, it was relatively pleasant to be caged in by familiar, sweet-smelling shampoo and the warm press of Oikawa’s mouth as she tugged Iwaizumi every which way. With each stray hair illuminated by the warm glow of Iwaizumi’s cheap floor lamp, Oikawa was nearly angelic, doe eyes lidded in satisfaction while piano-deft fingers played with the collar of Iwaizumi’s shirt. 

Iwaizumi cooperated as much as possible with Oikawa’s swift removal of her top and well-worn sports bra, and gave her friend free reign for her curious hands and wandering lips. 

“Iwa-chan is so handsome,” Oikawa cooed against Iwaizumi’s shoulder, fingernails sending shivers down Iwaizumi’s spine as she traced the line of muscle of her biceps. Iwaizumi groaned in indignation as Oikawa sucked an obnoxious mark into the slope of her neck towards her shoulder, before leaning back to admire it proudly. 

Being naked in front of Oikawa was… mortifying. Although Iwaizumi wasn’t insecure, per se, Oikawa was perfect. Models envied what she had, each imperfection charming rather than unappealing, each smooth line and curve and muscle sculpted together like something invented in the mind of an overly ambitious artist, nearly too flawless to be believed. 

Iwaizumi was… average. Broad in the wrong places, coarse and muscular and uneven, but Oikawa didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate in pressing her palms against Iwaizumi’s waist like she were moulding a lump of clay, humming against her skin as she glowed with pleasure. 

“You know what,” Oikawa murmured, “I should show you how I do it.” 

Iwaizumi let out a soft noise in questioning, mouth occupied with trying to keep kissing down Oikawa’s chest as she sat up and left herself exposed to Iwaizumi’s tongue and lips and teeth. Oikawa could have admitted to murder at this moment, and despite typically clinging to Oikawa’s every word, Iwaizumi wouldn’t have clocked it. 

“Hey,” Oikawa protested as Iwaizumi ran her tongue over a pretty pink nipple, “pay attention to me.” 

Iwaizumi reluctantly pulled herself away. “I am paying attention to you.” 

“Not like that,” Oikawa complained half heartedly. “It’s my turn to make you come.” 

Iwaizumi pretended to consider it. “Okay, fine, I mean if you want to.” 

Oikawa bit into her shoulder enough to sting, and Iwaizumi put up her hands in surrender.

“Fine,” Iwaizumi accepted her fate as Oikawa pulled off with a smile, “What do you do when you fail to get off?” 

“Listen, I give up because I get bored, not because it doesn’t feel good.” 

“So you’re going to bore me to orgasm?” 

Oikawa made a face, once again flipping her hair over her shoulder in indignation. “Well,” she said with all too much confidence, “I’m not the only one who got all worked up, Iwa-chan. I could feel it, you know.” 

Iwaizumi furrowed her brows together as Oikawa’s hand skittered down her abs, making their way down… “Felt what?” 

Oikawa kissed over Iwaizumi’s navel, and looked up, a smug expression settling over her pretty features. It was intimidating, tall, statuesque Oikawa Tooru curled up against her, staring into her eyes with unwavering focus. It would be embarrassing, perhaps, if Iwaizumi couldn’t see the wash of watercolour-pink across her skin, or feel the eager jump of her fingertips as she endlessly kept herself busy with the gentle caress of Iwaizumi’s body. “You. Against my thigh. I never knew Iwa-chan got so wet. ” 

Although the touch was light, inquisitive, Iwaizumi had to fight the urge to flinch as her fingers settled between Iwaizumi’s legs, mortified at how little resistance met Oikawa’s soft fingertips.

“Aww… Your vibrator did all of this? You didn’t even finish-” 

Iwaizumi shut her eyes to avoid the hazel-eyed scrutiny gazing down at her. “It wasn’t the vibrator, Tooru.” 

Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa’s grin against her stomach, her meddlesome hand pressing firmly- “Mmph. Hey-” 

Oikawa didn’t hesitate, the confident press of her palm sending little static shocks through Iwaizumi’s hips, radiating out to her tensed muscles. It wasn’t enough to come, or at least, Iwaizumi had never tried that way before, but it was good. Nice. Even better with the approving gaze of her team captain, whose fingers travelled tentatively lower. 

“Oh, ” Iwaizumi let out without thinking, suddenly realizing Oikawa’s schemes. 

Oikawa froze. “You don’t want-?” 

Iwaizumi shook her head quickly. “No, no, I do, I just… Keep going. You’re all good.” 

With that little encouragement, Iwaizumi felt as Oikawa traced each sensitive inch exposed to her, exploratory, categorizing first Iwaizumi’s little knee-jerk reactions, then repeating sweeping motions that sent dull aches of pleasure across her skin. 

Oikawa beat Iwaizumi to her next question. “I have to warm you up first, obviously. First Iwa-chan rule of orgasms.” 

If Iwaizumi weren’t clearly and audibly well-prepared, she might have argued this point, however with each touch stretching and stringing her along like saltwater taffy, she hoped Oikawa would commit to something, lest she fizzle out like a live wire or dissolve into her bed sheets forever. 

Luckily, Oikawa had some mercy. Not much, given that her reprieve from feather-light touches was instead pressing, unceremoniously, inside her, up to the second knuckle of her index finger. 

With a sharp inhale, Iwaizumi tried her best to relax. Not because it was unpleasant, not because it was uncomfortable, but because of the molten pool in the base of her stomach that stirred as Oikawa gently curled her finger upwards, responding to each miniscule motion of Iwaizumi’s muscles with wide, shimmering eyes, analysing each gasp and cut-off noise with intense focus, steady in her rhythm. 

Iwaizumi ignored the soft sounds of Oikawa’s hand as she curled her second finger alongside the first, seemingly instinctively locating exactly where Iwaizumi couldn’t quite reach on her own, punching out pleasant little thrums of pleasure with each motion. It was accompanied, of course, by Oikawa’s other palm rubbing in gentle strokes down her waist, over her stomach, cupping her now-exposed chest. Oikawa groped her as though she were memorizing each curve, each muscle, studying her. To increasing success, it seemed, as Iwaizumi felt something building. It wasn’t a foreign sensation, but it wasn’t exactly familiar either- Iwaizumi felt frozen in place under Oikawa’s gaze. 

“Keep going,” Iwaizumi breathed. 

Oikawa nodded. “See?” She teased. “I told you. I know what I’m doing.” 

Iwaizumi couldn’t argue. “Mmh-” 

Oikawa watched, enraptured, at Iwaizumi’s expressions as she continued to curl her fingers, firm and steady and practiced as though she were fluent in bringing forth Iwaizumi’s pleasure. Iwaizumi supposed Oikawa had always been scarily good at reading Iwaizumi’s expressions and body language, and this wasn’t really all that different from scrutinising her on the court, in practice, or at home, doing homework, or apparently finger-fucking her within an inch of her life. Oikawa had always been talented, Iwaizumi wasn’t going to start doubting her now. 

Iwaizumi shifted her hips allowing Oikawa a bit more room to work with, and with the new angle Oikawa pushed little noises out from her throat that she would deny if Oikawa ever tried to bring it up again. 

“I never knew Iwa-chan was this easy, ” Oikawa said, delight creeping into her voice. “No wonder you get off so often, I’m barely even moving and you’re shaking- ” 

“No I’m- fuck, there, don’t- ” Iwaizumi gasped as Oikawa moved just a little bit deeper, her other hand making space for itself to rub exactly where her palm had previously lay. 

Oikawa grinned. “You’ve got such a cute pussy, Iwa-chan.” 

Iwaizumi swatted at her half-heartedly, not wanting to actually discourage Oikawa from continuing. She held her breath as Oikawa’s pace quickened, stars dancing at the edge of her vision. 

“So feisty. I should come over and do this more often. What do you think?” 

Iwaizumi nodded and didn’t exhale. 

“Are you going to come? Come on, show me. I’m way better than some boring vibrator,” Oikawa joked, while her hoarse voice betrayed interest Iwaizumi couldn’t think too hard about while teetering on the edge, closer, closer- 

“Mm-hm.” 

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth against her neck was enough to make Iwaizumi shiver, a moan escaping as her tongue traced the tense line of her muscle and-

“Tooru. Tooru- ngh-” 

Iwaizumi couldn’t think. She was no stranger to pleasure, but this was… new. Sweeping up her chest, down her thighs, Oikawa was all consuming, and Iwaizumi couldn’t remember a single occasion where coming felt this good. 

As Iwaizumi came down from her high, she could hear little murmuring comments from her eager friend, who still gently fucked her and kissed her neck like there was no place she’d rather be than curled up against Iwaizumi’s side. Iwaizumi would attest that that may have been an overly sentimental interpretation, but it was difficult to consider any other options while the Oikawa Tooru was naked in her bed, humming and whispering sweet nothings into her skin. 

“Have fun?” She teased, her voice smooth and light. 

Iwaizumi avoided her gaze for a moment, although there wasn’t really anywhere she could look that wasn’t all-consumingly Oikawa. “Don’t get too proud of yourself now,” She mumbled. 

Oikawa kissed her, and maybe it surprised her, maybe, but surrounded by her scent, her hands, her body, Iwaizumi melted into it. 

Unceremoniously wiping her hand on Iwaizumi’s bedsheet, Oikawa sighed contentedly. “We should do this all the time.” 

Iwaizumi didn’t hesitate. “Mm. Yeah. Absolutely.” 

If someone had recounted the events of the last hour to her younger self, Iwaizumi wouldn’t have believed them. Hell, if someone had told her, one day ago, that Oikawa would be curled up against her, sweat-damp and satiated as she traced nothing in particular in the smooth valley of Iwaizumi’s chest, she would have assumed they were hallucinating. 

Having felt Oikawa’s skin against hers, the warmth of her body as she let out little whimpers of pleasure, or the way she gasped when she came… Iwaizumi wondered if she should take up sexually explicit journalling, so she could record every moment for the next time she needed material to consider while her hand was buried down the front of her boxers. Beyond that, Iwaizumi couldn’t find any hints of regret across Oikawa’s contented form, no hesitation or doubt in the statement she’d made. 

“I can’t believe you were so willing to jerk off in front of me.” 

Pause. “What- You asked-” 

Oikawa laughed, and were it not for the light breathlessness that still lingered in her barbs Iwaizumi might have taken some sort of offense. “If anyone other than me ever asks you to masturbate in front of them, say no. ” 

Iwaizumi scoffed in exaggerated outrage, and Oikawa giggled manaically. 

“Pervert Iwa-chan.” 

“You’re the pervert, mmph-” 

Oikawa kissed her, and Iwaizumi wondered if it was possible to die of post-orgasmic bliss. 

The bed frame groaned in protest as Oikawa flopped back gracelessly onto the mattress, and Iwaizumi was almost impressed at her lack of embarrassment she displayed despite being naked as the day she was born. Perhaps it was difficult to be embarrassed after being two-knuckles-deep in your closest friend.

“I really should get a vibrator, huh.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, and ignored the sound of her upstairs neighbors loudly slamming a door. “You should. I’ll send you the link to mine, if you’d like.” 

Oikawa froze. “Oh my god.” 

Suddenly realizing what she’d just proposed, Iwaizumi immediately felt a swell of horror. “I take it back-” 

“Oh my god, Iwa-chan and I get matching vibrators-”

“Absolutely not. I’m never sending you that link.” 

Oikawa shrieked in delight. “That’s so cute, hers and hers vibrators-” She let out a faint yelp as Iwaizumi smothered her with the pillow, giggles following with muffled excitement. She tossed it aside without much effort, and amongst the wrinkled comforter and the warmth of her cluttered dorm room, Oikawa never looked more pleased with herself. 

“Wanna go again?”

Iwaizumi nodded and immediately rolled over.

“Obviously. Get over here.”