the iwaoi mixtape
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Summary
Snip, snip, snip.
His eyes drag over the length of Hajime’s face. Along his jaw, over his sharp nose, that wide forehead he’s always teased the other about, the same one his grandmother had told Hajime would one day bring him good fortune, before finally settling on his eyes.
Those eyes. Oh, those eyes.
They’ve always been Tooru’s favorite thing about Hajime.
When he was little, he’d often compared them to gemstones. Proudly informed Hajime that they resembled the thick green emerald on his mother’s wedding choker. His mother-in-law’s favorite earrings. And then later, his sister’s engagement ring. Big and bright and so, so enticing to a younger Tooru who’d always had a penchant for beautiful things.
But now, right now?
They remind him of the ocean.
In which Hajime cuts his fringe.
Series
- Part 3 of no measure of time will be long enough, but let's start with forever
- Part 1 of the iwaoi mixtape
- Part 1 of you and me, that's my whole world
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Summary
Growing up, they’d been joined at the hip. Two peas in a pod. Two faces of the same coin. Their names had been synonymous.
“Tooru,” he says, and god, it’s been ages since he’s spoken Tooru’s name so tenderly.
Tooru feels his heart stutter as Hajime’s thumb grazes over his cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzles into the touch. Finds his chest tightening, voice stuttering, his very person forgetting how to speak, how to stand.
He leans into Hajime. Breathes in that sweet, musky cologne he’s been particular to since college, the fragrance rising from his very pulse, staccato beat thrumming against Tooru’s skin. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Okay,” he whispers.
In which they kiss.
Series
- Part 2 of the iwaoi mixtape
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Summary
"You guys don’t want to come celebrate with us?” he asks, using that ridiculously exaggerated lilt that Hajime is all too accustomed with.
“My mom’s gonna skin me alive if I’m late picking my sister up from ballet,” Hanamaki explains, hiking his sports bag up on his shoulder. “Last time, she decided to walk home on her own while a pervert was on the loose.” Matsukawa gasps theatrically, but the other ignores him. “And anyways, I think an occasion like this calls for a better celebration than convenience store nikuman. I deserve cream puffs and pancakes at the very least, Captain.”
The mention of his shiny new title of exactly twenty-five minutes causes Oikawa’s face to light up, its brightness rivaling that of a thousand-watt bulb. Hajime and Matsukawa exchange bitten grins behind their wrists as their friend preens, everyone basking in the elation of the good news.
The immediate aftermath of Oikawa and Iwaizumi taking charge of their team.
Series
- Part 3 of the iwaoi mixtape
- Part 1 of sunset on the horizon
- Part 1 of snapshots
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Summary
Hajime stands slightly shorter than the rest of the wolves. However, his bulk makes up for his lack of height. His fur is a lovely reddish-brown, fluffy and soft, his paws powerful and large, able to cover the length of the visible field in three long strides, and he carries himself with a regal poise that rivals that of the pack leader.
Tooru nearly forgets how to breathe when it’s finally Hajime’s turn to jump through the flames. His best friend emerges with a sweet boyish grin, the one that always makes Tooru’s heart lurch just a bit too dangerously, dark hair flopping endearingly into his forest green eyes. His thick muscles bulge and twist under his smooth, sun-kissed skin. Carry a soft sheen, courtesy of the heat.
He looks absolutely ravishing backdropped by the radiance of the stars.
And when the chief speaks for the last time, her voice undertakes a dramatic yet grave tone.
“Remember to not stray from the path unless you are prepared to succumb to the evils that lurk deep within these woods.”
Tooru and Hajime participate in the Hunt, a mating ritual passed down through generations.
Series
- Part 4 of the iwaoi mixtape
- Part 1 of moonlight
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Summary
“I’m the only one who can give you what you want,” Hajime grunts, pushing his hips forward and swearing as Tooru drags a thumb over the head. His biceps are swelling, his arm trembling with the strength required to balance himself above the other, and he drops his chin when Tooru gathers a generous amount of cum on his thumb. Smears it all over top half and continues to work his way down. “Fuck you dirty. Nasty. The way you’re too embarrassed to tell anyone about.”
“You’re mine, baby,” Hajime says, coaxing another finger past his rim and smirking at the ease with which it slips in. “You’re my baby.”
Tooru swallows loudly in response. Blinks to ground himself and nods in agreement. “Your baby.”
“My baby,” Hajime repeats once more before brutally curling his fingers in a way that causes the other to see stars.
Car sex under the stars.
Series
- Part 5 of the iwaoi mixtape
- Part 1 of sodapop
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Summary
“Can you—” Tooru starts, grimacing when his voice cracks from underuse. “Can you tell me where we’re going now?”
Hajime purses his lips, obviously contemplating whether or not to spoil the surprise, before eventually nudging his head in the direction of a sign they’re approaching.
An absolutely horrid sense of dread settles over Tooru as he reads the large block letters and then reads them again for good measure.
CAMPGROUNDS 20 KILOMETERS
“Iwa-chan, no,” he immediately moans, turning to grab his boyfriend’s shoulder and shake it. “No. Turn the car around.”“I think—” Hajime starts, only to grin in amusement when Tooru slides his hand down to grab his wrist in a death grip.
“No thinking. Turn this car back around right now,” Tooru replies, voice trailing off into a whine. He wails despondently when Hajime presses down on the accelerator and the car shoots forward even faster. “Iwa-chan, I don’t want to sleep on the ground!”
Tooru absolutely does not want to go camping. Thankfully, Hajime has something else in mind.
Series
- Part 1 of ‘cause i’ll love you for infinity
- Part 6 of the iwaoi mixtape
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Summary
“Iwa-chan,” Tooru greets from where he’s perched on the stone railing just a few inches away from their window, arms wrapped around his knees like this is something normal.
Iwa stares at his boyfriend, flabbergasted. “What in God’s name are you doing?”
“Enjoying the rain.”
“Like our landlord’s going to enjoy fining us for the floors?”
Tooru rolls his eyes at his boyfriend as if Hajime is the ridiculous one for wanting their deposit back.
Hajime pinches his nose. Breathes in heavily before saying exasperatedly, “You’re going to get sick.”
“And?” He turns to look at Hajime, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “A three-day long cold. That’s the most that can happen — worst case scenario.”
He slides over to his right, shoves the window back open with his movement, and pats the spot beside himself. “Come, sit with me.”
“You have lost your mind,” Hajime replies, though he knows he’s already fighting a losing battle as he begins to survey the sill.
The one where they're act like protagonists in the rain.
Series
- Part 2 of snapshots
- Part 7 of the iwaoi mixtape
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Summary
For once, Tokyo is quiet. It seems as if everyone has unanimously decided to take it easy for the remainder of the day. The remainder of the weekend, matter of fact. He can’t hear the excited chatter of the neighborhood children or the incessant honking of stressed and overworked office drones with things to do and places to be. The dog that lives next door is silent, too, likely dozing away to the calming sound of the falling rain, and the tenants in the unit below aren’t arguing either.
The only thing Tooru can hear is the persistent patter against their balcony, fast-falling showers coming down with resolute intent, belligerent and fierce, as if the sky had no other option than to completely and thoroughly unload all of its weight at once, and the soft smack of Hajime’s lips pressing against his warm skin.
Both sounds are welcome guests.
The one where they’re married and make soft love on a Saturday morning.
Series
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Summary
"What are you thinking about?”
Hajime sighs. Stares up at the sky as well. At the clouds passing in the wind and racks his brain for something to say.
“Graduation. College.” You. Whatever we’re going to do next.
“I know what you mean,” Oikawa laughs softly. “It’s all so much. Sometimes I wish I could just run away. You know?”
Hajime turns to look at him, head tilted to the side. The MP3 player clicks before switching to the next song. “By yourself? You wouldn’t last a day.”
Oikawa huffs a laugh before dropping his head down on Hajime’s shoulder. “You and me, then. Just us two. Doing our thing like when we were kids.”
Hajime lets himself bask in the moment for just a second before redirecting his attention to the sky. “I’d be down.”
“You’d be down,” Oikawa repeats deadpan, turning his face so that his nose is digging into Hajime’s bicep. He uproots a bit more grass before poking a dandelion a few inches away from his hip.
“Yeah,” Hajime replies, shifting so that the other’s head is resting more comfortably against his shoulder. “I’m always down to do whatever with you.”
Series
- Part 9 of the iwaoi mixtape
- Part 2 of sunset on the horizon
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Summary
She watches with wide eyes as Iwaizumi lifts Oikawa’s hands to his upturned mouth, brushes his lips over the backs of his knuckles, eyes never leaving the other’s face. Oikawa’s cheeks tint a beautiful light pink and he smiles widely at his best friend, the corners of his eyes curling up into crescents.
Outside, she can hear the sound of the ancient church piano reverberating through the cathedral.
Their hands grasp at each other’s shoulders, each other’s wrists, and they finally manage to find one another when their fingers twine together and drop down to their thighs. They begin to breathe in sync, still murmuring something that Hitoka cannot hear over the echo of the piano music, its melody haunting and loud and vibrations somehow shaking the walls of the ancient church.
Wherein Yachi is a wedding planner on the lookout for her missing grooms.
Series
- Part 10 of the iwaoi mixtape
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Summary
“Iwa-chan, do you love me?” Oikawa interrupts suddenly. He meets the other’s gaze, eyes steely and narrowed and Hajime swallows.
Love. It means to have strong affection for someone. His feelings for Oikawa go beyond that. Always have. Always will.
He stares back into Oikawa’s eyes. Large and warm and brown and familiar. So familiar. The same eyes he’s stared into countless amounts of times. Terrified when they were younger and telling ghost stories under their bedsheets. Excited when they were scouted for the same high school. Enraged when they lost to Shiratorizawa, once again. And hopeful when they had confessed their feelings for one another, words stuttering and palms sweaty, the exchange happening just a few months ago and yet, it felt like forever.
But perhaps that was because that’s how far back his relationship with Oikawa goes. And so he nods slowly, eyes blinking as he gazes at his best friend. “Yes. I love you.”
The one where they argue and then make love.
Series
- Part 11 of the iwaoi mixtape
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Summary
They’ve already emptied two cups of sake and a third of the wine, passing a single cup back and forth and trying out a few Korean drinking games that Tooru has bookmarked on his phone. They aren’t that fun with just two people but at the same time, Hajime is enjoying the peace. There’s only one person he could lie next to in absolute silence for the rest of his life without having the slightest inkling of boredom cross his mind and Tooru is that person.
They’ve stolen a pack of cigarettes as well, though neither of them has lit one, too chicken to perform the act. They’re athletes first — athletes with big huge dreams of making it to the top of the world — and rebels second.
They could light it. They could do a lot of things. But they probably won’t.
“Can I suck you off?” Hajime asks, blurting out the first thought that comes to his mind.
Tooru raises his brow, turns his head with a wide grin. And, god. He’s so fucking attractive. “Bold today, are we?”
Or the one where they get each other off in the sweltering heat.
Series
- Part 12 of the iwaoi mixtape
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Summary
He could write a sonnet. Many sonnets. Fourteen lines, iambic pentameter. A couplet at the end.
He doesn’t really get it — their English teacher drones on and on about form and he tries to keep up, but he’s just as lost as the rest of his classmates. He doesn’t understand how to count the beats or why certain words rhyme when they aren’t spelled like they should.
The only thing he’s taken away is that you use sonnets when trying to tell someone you love them and that — that, he understands. Shakespeare wrote a hundred and fifty-four. Petrarch more than three hundred. Iwaizumi remembers. He’s good with memorization and numbers and facts, like how Oikawa has exactly five freckles on his left cheek and seven on the right. And he knows he can write more. Way more.
It’s been six and a half days since Iwaizumi last held Oikawa the way he wants to. He’s starting to lose his mind.
It’s hot and Iwaizumi daydreams.
Series
- Part 1 of days passed in a dream
- Part 13 of the iwaoi mixtape