Iwa-chan is on his back and his eyes are screwed up tight with his forearm mashed against his eyelids, mouth open so he can breathe loud and heavy as Oikawa works three fingers inside of him. Oikawa eyes his mouth thoughtfully as he rubs at Iwa-chan’s slick insides with the pads of his fingers. He decides he isn’t really the type of person to pass up on opportunities when they’re sitting in his lap like this, and he leans forward until his mouth is hovering somewhere over Iwa-chan’s as he withdraws his fingers. He presses in again immediately until Iwa-chan has taken him to the knuckle. Iwaizumi pants loud and squeezes around the base of his fingers in response, clearly too preoccupied to pay attention to any sudden breath on his face or where other parts of Oikawa might be.
Oikawa furrows his eyebrows in thought as he tries to calculate how far forward his head should be so he can get the trajectory right, and he smiles as he pushes a line of spit past his lips. It hits the corner of Iwa-chan’s mouth before it spills down past the corner of his lips. Oikawa imagines he can see it rolling down the back of his tongue and hitting his throat while it’s still warm.
Iwa-chan wrenches his arm away from his eyes and closes his mouth almost immediately, blinking at Oikawa in confusion. Without thinking, he swallows. Oikawa’s eyes narrow in delight, and Iwa-chan takes note of his shiny bottom lip and puts two and two together.
“Did you… did you just spit in my mouth,” he asks, monotone, and he doesn’t wait for Oikawa to answer before he surges upwards, attempting to break Oikawa’s nose with his forehead, and Oikawa topples backwards with a shout and Iwaizumi follows after him. His chin smashes painfully into Oikawa’s chest and they both cough in pain as Oikawa yanks his fingers out of Iwa-chan roughly to cradle his nose.
“Iwa-chan, what’s your problem?!” Oikawa’s voice is muffled behind his hand, and he looks a lot angrier than someone who just spit in someone else’s mouth has any right to be. Iwa-chan’s eyes go wide in rage.
“You. Spit. In. My. Mouth,” he grinds out, slowly, and Oikawa actually has the audacity to click his tongue and sigh at him in response.
“Think of it as a kiss without lips or tongues or faces involved,” he says flippantly, pulling his hand away from his nose to check for blood. His fingers are still shiny with lube.
Iwa-chan stares him furiously in his face and sees blood pooling in the dip above Oikawa’s upper lip but feels no guilt; he can’t actually remember the last time Oikawa fucked him without dried blood on his face, anyways.
If Iwaizumi wasn’t painfully hard and naked from the waist down, and if Oikawa hadn’t already spread him so thoroughly he had lube dripping down the inside of his thighs, he would have leapt up so he could beat the shit out of Oikawa properly.
But he’s stretched and empty and needy and everything feels hot, both from anger and from the way his dick is leaking onto Oikawa’s t-shirt from where he lay on his stomach, so he settles for smashing his fists into Oikawa’s chest when he grabs him by the shirt and hisses, “Hurry up and fuck me so I can kill you.”
Oikawa looks like he wants to argue as he sits up, but Iwaizumi falls back to the bed still looking murderous with a wet spot on both of their shirts where his cock leaked between them, and Oikawa decides they can bicker later.
-
When he’s balls-deep in Iwa-chan and he’s holding his legs apart by the bend of his knees as he fucks him, Oikawa’s nose starts to ache. The blood dried on face is annoying and his nose hurts, and Iwa-chan is leaking on himself like crazy today without a care in the world. Oikawa huffs to himself, and the thrust of his hips is absolutely petulant in the way it slows and shallows. Iwaizumi slits his eyes open to stare at him accusatorily. Oikawa actually sighs.
Before Iwa-chan can speak, and the way his eyes open fully and his eyebrows raise suggest he certainly has words for Oikawa right now, Oikawa raises himself up on his knees. He bends over Iwa-chan until their faces are parallel, and his grip on Iwa-chan’s legs is firm and demanding as he pushes his knees towards his shoulders until Iwa-chan is almost folded in half.
His dick is pressed heavy inside of Iwaizumi and it’s hard for him to breathe like this, but he doesn’t drop his leg when Oikawa slides one of his hands from behind his knees so he can grip Iwa-chan’s jaw tightly.
Oikawa’s face is a demanding leer as he hisses, “Open your mouth, Iwa-chan.”
He prepares himself for Iwaizumi to raise his hands from where they’re fisted in the sheets by his sides so he can push Oikawa’s face away as he hollers, “Idiot! Idiot Oikawa!”.
He isn’t prepared, however, for when Iwa-chan’s jaw clenches briefly under his fingers before he opens his mouth, his eyebrows pressed together angrily but face pink.
Oikawa smothers his delighted surprise before it can show on his face, and the smile on his face as he pulls his tongue towards the back of his mouth so spit wells up behind his bottom teeth is affectionate. When he lets the spit dribble out of his mouth this time, he pushes his lips forward as if he were kissing the air, and Iwa-chan closes his eyes tightly in embarrassment when Oikawa’s spit rolls down the roof of his mouth, warm and wet. He swallows.
FILL: "Alternative Kissing Methods" (Oikawa/Iwaizumi, spitting, nosebleed)
Oikawa furrows his eyebrows in thought as he tries to calculate how far forward his head should be so he can get the trajectory right, and he smiles as he pushes a line of spit past his lips. It hits the corner of Iwa-chan’s mouth before it spills down past the corner of his lips. Oikawa imagines he can see it rolling down the back of his tongue and hitting his throat while it’s still warm.
Iwa-chan wrenches his arm away from his eyes and closes his mouth almost immediately, blinking at Oikawa in confusion. Without thinking, he swallows. Oikawa’s eyes narrow in delight, and Iwa-chan takes note of his shiny bottom lip and puts two and two together.
“Did you… did you just spit in my mouth,” he asks, monotone, and he doesn’t wait for Oikawa to answer before he surges upwards, attempting to break Oikawa’s nose with his forehead, and Oikawa topples backwards with a shout and Iwaizumi follows after him. His chin smashes painfully into Oikawa’s chest and they both cough in pain as Oikawa yanks his fingers out of Iwa-chan roughly to cradle his nose.
“Iwa-chan, what’s your problem?!” Oikawa’s voice is muffled behind his hand, and he looks a lot angrier than someone who just spit in someone else’s mouth has any right to be. Iwa-chan’s eyes go wide in rage.
“You. Spit. In. My. Mouth,” he grinds out, slowly, and Oikawa actually has the audacity to click his tongue and sigh at him in response.
“Think of it as a kiss without lips or tongues or faces involved,” he says flippantly, pulling his hand away from his nose to check for blood. His fingers are still shiny with lube.
Iwa-chan stares him furiously in his face and sees blood pooling in the dip above Oikawa’s upper lip but feels no guilt; he can’t actually remember the last time Oikawa fucked him without dried blood on his face, anyways.
If Iwaizumi wasn’t painfully hard and naked from the waist down, and if Oikawa hadn’t already spread him so thoroughly he had lube dripping down the inside of his thighs, he would have leapt up so he could beat the shit out of Oikawa properly.
But he’s stretched and empty and needy and everything feels hot, both from anger and from the way his dick is leaking onto Oikawa’s t-shirt from where he lay on his stomach, so he settles for smashing his fists into Oikawa’s chest when he grabs him by the shirt and hisses, “Hurry up and fuck me so I can kill you.”
Oikawa looks like he wants to argue as he sits up, but Iwaizumi falls back to the bed still looking murderous with a wet spot on both of their shirts where his cock leaked between them, and Oikawa decides they can bicker later.
-
When he’s balls-deep in Iwa-chan and he’s holding his legs apart by the bend of his knees as he fucks him, Oikawa’s nose starts to ache. The blood dried on face is annoying and his nose hurts, and Iwa-chan is leaking on himself like crazy today without a care in the world. Oikawa huffs to himself, and the thrust of his hips is absolutely petulant in the way it slows and shallows. Iwaizumi slits his eyes open to stare at him accusatorily. Oikawa actually sighs.
Before Iwa-chan can speak, and the way his eyes open fully and his eyebrows raise suggest he certainly has words for Oikawa right now, Oikawa raises himself up on his knees. He bends over Iwa-chan until their faces are parallel, and his grip on Iwa-chan’s legs is firm and demanding as he pushes his knees towards his shoulders until Iwa-chan is almost folded in half.
His dick is pressed heavy inside of Iwaizumi and it’s hard for him to breathe like this, but he doesn’t drop his leg when Oikawa slides one of his hands from behind his knees so he can grip Iwa-chan’s jaw tightly.
Oikawa’s face is a demanding leer as he hisses, “Open your mouth, Iwa-chan.”
He prepares himself for Iwaizumi to raise his hands from where they’re fisted in the sheets by his sides so he can push Oikawa’s face away as he hollers, “Idiot! Idiot Oikawa!”.
He isn’t prepared, however, for when Iwa-chan’s jaw clenches briefly under his fingers before he opens his mouth, his eyebrows pressed together angrily but face pink.
Oikawa smothers his delighted surprise before it can show on his face, and the smile on his face as he pulls his tongue towards the back of his mouth so spit wells up behind his bottom teeth is affectionate. When he lets the spit dribble out of his mouth this time, he pushes his lips forward as if he were kissing the air, and Iwa-chan closes his eyes tightly in embarrassment when Oikawa’s spit rolls down the roof of his mouth, warm and wet. He swallows.