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The many kisses of Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru.
Bookmarked by Zanzz
18 Sep 2026
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For all his foot stomping and demands, Oikawa deflated into something just this side of shy suddenly, shifting his weight from foot to foot and tugging the sleeves of his shirt down past his wrists. It was too big on him, and it dangled down past his knuckles. They both wore clothes too big at their mothers' insistence that they would grow into them. Hajime wondered a lot if feelings were like clothes. If you could grow out of those, too. “You have to stand.”
Hajime heaved out a long sigh, tossing his text to the side and getting up on his feet. He kept his body controlled, in step, not fidgety like Oikawa’s, even though on the inside his bones felt like they were vibrating, an invisible chord struck. Afternoon light filtered in through open blinds, falling over Oikawa in a glow, sharp edges looking sharper, the creases on his face darker, everything that much more pointed and glaring. He’s beautiful, Hajime thought suddenly, and not for the first time.
—
Hajime waved, then slid his attention back around to Oikawa. “I just felt like--are you crying? Don't cry, you idiot! I'll punch you!"
Big, snotty crocodile tears started dripping down Oikawa’s pink face, and he dropped all the books he was holding and started sprinting at Hajime full force with his arms stretched out. “I-Iwa-chan!”
Hajime caught him, but his knees buckled under the sudden weight and they collapsed back. He swore, head throbbing where it’s bumped against the ground. But he was distracted by the warm wetness against his throat.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa blubbered. “I hate you. Why are you here? Why didn’t you say you were coming? Why don’t you ever call? I hate you.”
Hajime sighed, body relaxing. He brought his hand up and around to ruffle the back of Tooru’s hair. “It was a surprise, dumbass. And why don’t you call me?”
—
“How many times do I have to tell you,” Hajime stopped short right in front of him, and he waited for big brown eyes to finally look up. He felt his own face make some sort of expression, caught between hurt and pleading and trying too hard to seem neither. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
Oikawa finally tore himself away form to door, and as he did it seemed like he was falling forward, not a care about gravity in him as he collapsed into Hajime and kissed him like he’d been dying to. He probably had been, as much as Hajime had been dying to kiss him back.
—
“You are,” Iwa-chan fell forward on his hands, on either side of Tooru’s face. “Because it’s ridiculous you haven’t realized by now that you’re stuck with me for life, Shittykawa.”
Tooru’s heart swelled to the point of bursting, and he reached his hands up, cupping the back of Hajime’s neck and pulling him down into a kiss. And they kept kissing, grinning into smacking lips until one flip too many sent them falling off the side of the bed.
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Oikawa and Iwaizumi are in the Olympic Village at the height of their careers—Oikawa has a medal to win and Iwaizumi has a team to tend to.
Or, at least, a team he should be tending to. Instead, he's sending Oikawa thirst traps and Oikawa has had enough.
After all, he has needs that must be tended to as well.
Bookmarked by Zanzz
17 Sep 2026
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Iwaizumi’s eyes lower; his pupils dilate. “Not gonna be slamming you around today,” he says, his voice suddenly deeper and more syrupy than before. “You’ve got the biggest game of your life coming up, and you need to be in peak condition.” He grabs Oikawa’s jaw and forces their eyes to meet. “But don’t worry—” He grins, devastating and dangerous. “I’m still gonna take care of you.”
Oikawa swallows, all bravado suddenly seeping out of him as Iwaizumi’s eyes laser in on his, dark and intense, and as Iwaizumi’s thumb starts running back and forth on his jawline.
—
He’s right, and in some deranged show of possessiveness, Oikawa opens his mouth and lets Iwaizumi’s thumb enter to rest on the flat of his tongue. Iwaizumi blinks, the dark dominance disappearing for a second as he’s seemingly as shocked at Oikawa’s action as Oikawa is with himself. But Oikawa leans into it, closing his lips around the knuckle and sucking. The darkness quickly returns to Iwaizumi’s face along with a deadly smirk.
“Huh. Needy, much?”
It’s those simple words said in that tone of voice that makes Oikawa grab Iwaizumi’s wrist to yank his hand away from his jaw so that Oikawa can surge forward and slam their lips together. Iwaizumi’s hands automatically fall to Oikawa’s hips, playing with the waistband of his sweats for just a second before his patience for teasing seems to get overwhelmed and he yanks the pants down along with a growl. He runs his hand over Oikawa’s clothed ass and snaps the waistband of his boxers against his hip. Oikawa shivers and lets out a breathy little sound at the sting.
—
Iwaizumi seems to have a similarly strong reaction to seeing Oikawa’s face again because all he does is swallow and nod before surging forward to grab Oikawa’s face in both hands and kiss him furiously. Oikawa’s fingers latch behind Iwaizumi’s head, keeping him locked against his lips. Their bare cocks line up and each time they brush against each other, they both let out moans and whimpers into the other’s mouth.
Oikawa hikes a leg up around Iwaizumi’s hips to bring him closer and it isn’t long before Iwaizumi’s hands have moved to the back of Oikawa’s thighs and he’s hoisting Oikawa up, his biceps straining with the effort. Oikawa is a professional athlete after all—he’s not some dainty waif who’s easy to pick up. Yet, Iwaizumi is strong enough to do so—albeit with the help of the support of the lockers pressed against Oikawa’s back—and it makes Oikawa swoon for the man all the harder.
—
“I love you, Hajime,” Oikawa whispers, squeezing Iwaizumi tight.
“I love you too,” he replies, pressing a tender kiss against Oikawa’s temple.
The moment is soft; it’s sweet. It reminds Oikawa of why he chooses to stay in the relationship despite its distance and its hardships. It reminds him that no matter what happens in the course of the next week, there will be someone who loves and adores and worships him. It reminds him that he is so, so happy, with or without a medal of any precious metal.
—
They meet eyes and a second later, they break out in laughter, loud enough to drown out the angry team that was so rude as to interrupt their precious, lovely moment. Oikawa decides he doesn’t even feel bad. After all, Oikawa thinks to himself, what and who could be more important than Oikawa to Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi to Oikawa.
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5 moments in Iwaizumi and Oikawa's lives together, the easy and the hard.
Bookmarked by Zanzz
17 Sep 2026
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His hips jerk instinctively, seeking better friction. He needs Iwaizumi a lot closer. “I want to kiss,” Oikawa gasps, cheeks burning at the request. He’s not embarrassed to ask for what he wants anymore but it always makes him shy to be so vulnerable. Maybe that’s a testament to the comfort that Iwaizumi provides, that Oikawa has long since abandoned risk-aversion analyses when it comes to him.
With a growl that makes Oikawa’s thighs clench together, Iwaizumi gets off of him and grabs him by the hips, flipping him so fast that Oikawa’s vision spins. He’s back on top of him in the space of a single breath, and then Oikawa is being kissed until he can’t breathe, short, needy moans trapped in the back of his throat.
Iwaizumi’s tongue runs along his lower lip, hot and teasing, and Oikawa opens his mouth eagerly, a drawn-out moan muffled between them. He tastes the inside of Iwaizumi’s mouth greedily, impatiently. His hands are slow as they glide up the muscular planes of Iwaizumi’s back, wandering and touching all that he lays claim to. Oikawa arches upward this time, seeking contact, and Iwaizumi immediately settles back into the inviting v of Oikawa’s legs, quickly wrapped between Oikawa’s soft thighs.
—
“Tooru!” Iwaizumi says, and he grabs Oikawa’s face, fingertips sinking into his wet, messy cheeks. “It’s okay, I get it. I’m sorry for earlier, I don’t want to force you into stuff you aren’t sure of.”
“You’re not,” Oikawa whispers, dropping his gaze to the front of Iwaizumi’s jacket. “I’m never unsure about you, I was only unsure if it was the right thing to do to move in together when I give you so little of my time. It seems unfair to you.”
“Tooru, just forget about that stuff. You can be honest with me. Do you want to live together?” Iwaizumi asks, for the final time.
“Of course I do,” Oikawa says, face crumpling even as he tries to frown. “Where did all your confidence go, Iwa-chan? Did you get abducted by aliens?”
—
“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, cutting him off. Enough. Enough with the uncertain requests for reassurance, enough with half-hearted steps forward, enough with trying to tell themselves it’d be okay to one day not be together. He reaches out before Oikawa can react and grabs his shoulder, taking in the shock and embarrassment on Oikawa’s face. “It’s not hard to date you,” he tells him plainly, “it’s only hard being away. I don’t like being so far away from you even if we talk all the time.”
Oikawa blinks at him, slack-jawed, in disbelief, bursting into a frenzy of exclamation and fidgeting when Iwaizumi cracks a smile and tugs on a lock of his hair. He buries his face in his hands as he swivels to face his ramen dead-on, refusing to even look in Iwaizumi’s direction.
Fucking cute, Iwaizumi thinks. Even his ears have gone red, a universally understood flush creeping down the back of his neck.
“So we’re dating,” Oikawa says into his palms, inflection rising upward, but it’s not quite a question, either. “We’re dating,” he states again immediately after, almost like a reminder to Iwaizumi even though Oikawa’s the one that looks like his face is about to combust into flames.
—
Oikawa sighs, bending down to pick up his dirty chopsticks from the floor. He abandons lunch in favor of draping himself across Iwaizumi’s back, chin rested on his shoulder. Hanamaki arches an eyebrow at him for the obvious display.
Oikawa had hoped that exposure would be inoculation. Touch him, be near him, delight in his attention; maybe that’ll ease some of the overwhelming need to touch, to be near, to be at the focus of all of Iwaizumi’s attention. How stupid. Add fuel to the fire, that’ll help, said no one ever.
—
“Mm, I don’t know,” Oikawa says, blushing as he starts looking elsewhere. “I was thinking I might retire after that.”
Iwaizumi stares at him. Somehow, Iwaizumi has never really imagined him doing anything else. “Wait...are you serious? Tooru.”
Oikawa pouts, blushing even harder, definitely refusing to look at his face. “What? There’s other stuff in the world to do besides volleyball. And maybe I want to spend a lot more time with you, okay?”
Iwaizumi laughs, delighted, pressing their cheeks together. It doesn’t really matter. He has Oikawa and that’s plenty.
Oikawa’s hand ends up tangled in his hair and Iwaizumi holds onto him tight, slowly swaying with him in the quiet warmth of their home.
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Written for the prompt: Remember when Iwaizumi misjudged a throw at Oikawa and gave him a bloody nose?
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Bookmarked by Zanzz
16 Sep 2026
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Oikawa was fragile when he let his guard down (just as he used to be as a kid, before he'd learned to build defenses at all).
"It’s not broken," Iwaizumi murmured. "Just bruised. I'm really sorry."
Oikawa relaxed back into his touch, blinking away the dampness that made his long eyelashes stick in clumps. The startled wild animal look in his eyes slowly began to fade. He looked uncomfortably vulnerable, lower lip quivering, but he didn't say anything as he stubbornly watched the sun sink below the horizon.
After a while, Iwaizumi tentatively removed the soiled shirt, and was relieved to find the bleeding had stopped. Good.
Without further hesitation, he pulled Oikawa in by the shoulders, and pressed their lips together. Iwaizumi knew he needed reassurance, and he wasn't good enough with his words, so this would have to do.
Oikawa hummed in surprise, but quickly melted into the forceful kiss, one hand twisting in his boyfriend's shirt collar to hold him close. A soft gasp caught in his throat as Iwaizumi deepened the kiss, teeth scraping his lower lip, tongue lapping eagerly into the heat of his mouth.
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what better reason than 'for science'? by Miah_Kat for astersandstuffs
Fandoms: Haikyuu!!
12 Jul 2017
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He hums, tapping his finger again at something. “We could probably skip this one since it’s kinda basic—”
“Whoa, wait, timeout.” Hajime waves his hands in front of him as if it’ll wave away this crazy idea Oikawa’s throwing at him. “What’s this we stuff?”
Oikawa huffs, ruffling his bangs over his forehead, and pouts at Hajime as he says slowly, “Haven’t you been listening, Iwa-chan? We should practice kissing!”
“And why should we do that?” demands Hajime, quirking a brow.
Oikawa’s answer is immediate. “For science.”
Bookmarked by Zanzz
14 Sep 2026
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“It uh...It said to start out with pecks and—” he murmurs as he fidgets with the hem of his shorts, betraying his nerves (leave it to Oikawa to flaunt his bravado even when he’s actually as lost as everyone else). Hajime doesn’t hesitate in reaching to take the setter’s hands in his, brushing his thumbs over the backs comfortingly while he jokes, “What are we, chickens?”
It does the trick and Oikawa laughs, the tension in his shoulders evaporating. They smile at each other for a moment, blushes darkening their cheeks at the proximity, until both are overcome with embarrassment and quickly tilt their heads forward at the same time—effectively headbutting each other.
—
Oikawa breathes out slowly through his nose, warming the air between them as he presses closer so that their chests are flush; Hajime can feel the pounding of Oikawa’s heart, a rapid rhythm betraying the nerves he won’t show. Instinctively, Hajime raises one hand to smooth it over Oikawa’s waist in an attempt at comfort. Oikawa chuckles breathlessly, eyes fluttering at the touch, and his smile is somehow both timid and daring.
—
“Hmm?” Hajime hums, unsure if it’s a question or demand, taking the opportunity to kiss across Oikawa’s cheeks, his brow, his eyelids and nose. Oikawa giggles again at the attention, using his hold on Hajime’s face to pull him away so he can focus on his new objective. Hajime pouts at him but the look in Oikawa’s eyes tells him they have all the time in the world for more of that later.
—
Oikawa lets himself be manhandled so that he’s sitting further back on Hajime’s lap, a good distance away from his neck. Still, he whines at the action, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout that puffs his cheeks.
(He looks like a ruffled hamster, with his hair all awry from Hajime’s fingers, but no matter how endearing Hajime can’t let it sway him.)
“Eehhh, Iwa-chan I wasn’t done!” he complains, jutting out his lower lip. He peers at his work before sighing in disappointment, “Damn, it’s already disappearing.” Hajime claps a hand over the spot that’s still tingling, trying to focus on why he stopped Oikawa in the first place.
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Maybe it’s the light filtering in through the kitchen windows, the oranges and reds of sunset reflecting against the gold highlights of his hair; maybe it’s the way Tooru’s humming some slow song in that off-tune way he has, a small smile tilting his lips; maybe it’s just Tooru and this instinctual feeling that now, now is perfect.
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"Are you really okay?”
Tooru knows what he means. Knows he means ‘are you okay with your knee?’ and ‘are you okay with being back in Japan for good?’ and ‘are you okay with never, ever playing volleyball again?’ He knows that.
He’s not so drunk that he can’t feign ignorance. “With being a lightweight? Yeah, Iwa-chan, I am. There's nothing wrong with being a cheap date.”
In which after a career ending injury, Tooru is back in Japan and drunk, and a love confession happens
Series
- Part 1 of Twitter Location+Trope Prompt Fills
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Oikawa had always been needy. That went without saying. But had he always stood so close, made so much eye contact, sighed and teased and whispered so much? Was Hajime only noticing it because it meant something to him now?
A thumb reaching out to wipe a smudge of sauce from the corner of Hajime’s mouth. A wink when he'd turned around, shirtless in the locker room, to catch Hajime staring. Always followed by these maddening little giggles, like Oikawa knew what he was doing.
Bookmarked by Zanzz
10 Sep 2026
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Oikawa looked entirely too pleased with himself when Hajime peeked through his fingers. Hajime grunted. “I have a headache,” he groused, closing his eyes. “Quit smiling so loud.”
He felt Oikawa’s hand come up to rub a few soothing circles into his back, and he melted a little. He could tell Oikawa was starting to worry about him. “I’m okay,” he said without opening his eyes. “It’s nothing.”
—
Still, Hajime nodded. Oikawa tended to get lonely studying on his own, and he probably wanted attention. Even before – before this thing, these feelings – everyone knew he was soft for Oikawa, and willing to indulge him more often than not. That was just how they worked. What most people didn’t notice were the ways Oikawa looked after Hajime in return, mostly tactile; a reassuring hand between his shoulder blades, melodramatic hugs he knew Hajime only pretended to hate.Oikawa pulled his chair so close his knee pressed against Hajime’s under the table. They spoke softly together, taking turns quizzing each other’s vocabulary, until the sun started to set outside the window and send golden rays throughout the room. Finally, Oikawa let his head loll onto Hajime’s shoulder.
—
Oikawa made a whining noise and tossed his head where it rested on Hajime’s shoulder. Hajime closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to control the urge to bury his face in the soft hair that was tickling his cheek. It should have been annoying when Oikawa let out a plaintive “Iwa-channnnnn,” but all Hajime could register was the way the sound vibrated over his skin and the way he could feel Oikawa’s lips moving against his neck.
—
Hajime glared at his empty plate. He was getting tired of this. Being around Oikawa was becoming an emotional roller coaster – tenderness turned to bitterness turned back to tenderness again.
He felt a hand on his under the table. When he looked up, Oikawa still had his eyes on their friends – but he gave Hajime’s hand a squeeze. Ah. The real apology. Hajime felt himself softening against his will. It wasn’t Oikawa’s fault. Girls had always liked him – and Oikawa had always liked girls. Hajime had never understood the appeal of chatting up someone he hardly knew and had nothing in common with, but that didn’t really make it wrong for Oikawa to do it.
—
Hajime eyed him warily. Then he sighed, and reluctantly settled back down onto the couch. “Fine then,” he muttered, face hot. “C’mere.”
Oikawa let out a contented sigh as he snuggled into Hajime’s side. “Mm. You smell nice.”
A wave of the tenderness threatened to engulf Hajime. Maybe it wasn’t possible to get used to these feelings after all. Every now and then, they made themselves known with an intensity that almost toppled him over. He squeezed his eyes closed, overwhelmed.
—
Again the urge to cry. Hajime heard his mom’s footsteps disappearing up the stairs and dared to open his eyes again. Then, in a moment of pure, abject weakness, he leaned down to brush his lips against Oikawa’s forehead. He just – looked so soft like this, with the dim moonlight gathering on the planes of his face, mouth petal-pink and pouting in his sleep. He was so boneless and trusting in Hajime’s arms.
—
The look on Hajime’s face had him doubled over laughing. Tooru meant to be good, he really did, but he was lightheaded from their kiss and dizzy with an affection that had him giving into every impulse to tease and touch and fluster. And Hajime made it so easy. He was looking wrathfully up at the sky, the tips of his ears still pink. “You’re the worst,” he said, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Tooru squeezed his hand. He felt a stray raindrop plink onto his nose. “Don’t even lie, Iwa-chan. You love me.”
“Yeah,” said Hajime.
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It’s a known fact to even the smallest of children that everyone has a red string tied around their finger, though not everyone can see theirs.
“Isn’t it tragic?” One of Hajime’s cousins says. “Imagine you meet your soulmate and don’t even know they’re them! I think I’d die if I missed mine.”
“Good thing you wouldn’t know,” Hajime says, rubbing his fingertip over the twist of red thread around his pinky, his eyes carelessly tracking the endless stretch it does away from him out of habit. It’s not soothing exactly, to follow the seemingly infinite length of the bright red string, but it’s something close to it. Like wiggling a loose tooth when you’re little, or rubbing an old familiar scar.
In which Iwaizumi and Oikawa are connected by the red string of fate, because of course they are.
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Hajime Iwaizume And The Adventures In Discovering You Want To Kiss Your Best Friend by attackofthezee (noxlunate)
Fandoms: Haikyuu!!
12 May 2021
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Hajime can trace all of his troubles back to that very moment, when his parents decided that a house next to the Oikawas was the way to go.
His troubles being many, and all of them involving Oikawa Tooru somehow.
In which Hajime Iwaizume is kissed by his best friend, loses a volleyball match, and kisses his best friend- in that order.
Bookmarked by Zanzz
07 Sep 2026
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“C’mon, if you don’t sleep you’ll drag us all down at practice tomorrow,” Hajime says, lifting the corner of his blankets.
Oikawa, looking like he’d merely been waiting for Hajime to offer, crawls under with a swiftness that would rival that of that freakish little Karasuno shortstack on the court. He wastes absolutely zero time twining his limbs around Hajime like some freakishly boney octopus, catching Hajime in a vice grip with their noses practically pressed together.
Hajime blinks at Oikawa where he’s too close, and Oikawa kisses him.
—
Oikawa laughs, bright and with his head tipped back and Hajime makes the mistake of looking straight at him, forgetting that when Oikawa’s like this he’s like the sun.
—
“Your face is a petty crime,” Oikawa says, which makes zero sense but Hajime still punches him in the shoulder for it and everything very quickly devolves into a shoving match that ends with Oikawa on top of him and Hajime swearing he’s going to kill his best friend and Mrs. Oikawa’s voice drifting into the room telling them to knock it off before they break something.
It’s familiar, well trodden ground, and something twists in Hajime’s chest at the thought that there’s not long until this all ends. Volleyball is over, and soon highschool will be too. They’ll go off to college and Hajime will insist that he’s been waiting years to get some peace and quiet without Oikawa clinging to him, but it’ll be the biggest lie he’s ever told and they’ll both know it.
—
He thinks about shutting him up- thinks about putting his mouth on Oikawa’s, like Oikawa had done to him weeks ago, about what it would feel like to be on the other side of that. And then, because Oikawa turns him into a fucking crazy person, driven by some unseen force, he does just that.
Oikawa is still for a moment before he seems to- there’s no other word for it but melt- into Hajime. It’s different than the last time, when Hajime isn’t the one being taken by surprise, when his brain doesn’t have to rush to catch up, Oikawa moving past the moment before Hajime even got there.
—
According to legend, and according to Hajime and Tooru’s moms when they get tipsy and misty eyed and start reminiscing at the shared family dinner the night of Hajime and Tooru’s graduations, Tooru had latched immediately onto Hajime and refused to let him go, shrieking like a vicious, particularly bitey hell demon when the Oikawas attempted to go home.
Holding Oikawa’s hand beneath the table while their moms lean against each other and Mrs. Oikawa launches into a dramatic rendition of the time she caught them attempting to dig a tunnel between their backyards when they were four, it turns out that Hajime doesn’t want to let go either.
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“You’re so mean to me,” Tooru says, flopping over to drape himself across Iwaizumi’s lap, making him jerk his plate of pizza out of the way so that Tooru doesn’t crush it. “You never support my dreams.”
Iwaizumi moves their pizza out of the potential splash zone for any fights and then flicks Tooru’s ear in retaliation. “Oh yeah, that’s my problem. I don’t support your dreams.” It comes out very sarcastic, which Tooru supposes is fair, even if he doesn’t like it.
The perpetual state of extreme limbo that has been their Not-A-Relationship since highschool is, at least, in part, because of Tooru’s dreams and Iwaizumi’s tacit, unwavering support for them, after all.
Or, Oikawa and Iwaizumi have been dancing around a relationship since they were kids. Eventually something has to give.
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Iwaizumi and Oikawa have very different ideas on what Netflix and Chill means.
Bookmarked by Zanzz
05 Sep 2026
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Iwaizumi grins despite himself, “Yeah. You are.” And he pulls him in for a kiss that Oikawa finally returns, wrapping his arms around his neck to pull him closer. To kiss him deeper.
Iwaizumi’s hands release their grip on Oikawa’s shirt, slipping around to snake under the offending garment and run up his tone back. Oikawa arches slightly at the touch, gasping into the kiss. Iwaizumi takes the moment to start kissing down his neck again.
“Hajime.”
Iwaizumi hums his answer, as he’s nuzzling into Oikawa’s neck.
“But don’t you want to know the end of the documentary?”
Iwaizumi pulls up, takes the cushion besidge him, and presses it against Oikawa’s face in one smooth action. Enough is enough.
Oikawa flounders underneath, flailing his arms.
“Shhhhh,” Iwaizumi presses down harder, “I’m doing this for the greater good. Accept it.”
After another second he releases his grip, lifting the cushion to find Oikawa’s red face painted with an angry glare.
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"Oh my, Iwa-chan! I just knew it was only a matter of time before you fell for me." Tooru sings into his ear breathlessly.
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It’s not like Hajime has really changed or anything–he still chides Tooru when he’s being insufferable, still saves the bugs that make their way into the house, still sneaks his tomatoes into Tooru’s bento when he’s not looking, still teases and huffs and hides grins with a roll of his eyes–but even so he’s seemed more...distant, despite those things.
...
"What if...what if I told you I've been in love with you since we were kids?"
Bookmarked by Zanzz
02 Sep 2026
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“What if...what if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids?”
The words hang between them, exhaled in a rush with the tightening of Hajime’s fingers in Tooru’s hair, his heart hammering under Tooru’s ear. He means it , Tooru realizes with awe. Heat washes over his face, butterflies bursting to life in his stomach, and he feels the tell-tale sign of tears prickling behind his eyes. Unconsciously, he grips Hajime’s shirt between his fingers, biting his lip as he tries to keep it together.
Hajime shifts uncomfortably–is Tooru imagining it or are his hands shaking?–and clears his throat, voice hoarse as he mutters, “Say something . You asked, you can’t just–” He pauses, stiffening as Tooru whines low in his throat.
“Hey, what–?” Hajime brings his free hand up to Tooru’s face, thumbing the curve of his jaw. “Are you crying?”
“Stupid! ” Tooru wails, turning his face into Hajime’s chest as the tears fall faster. “You...You can’t just drop something like that on me!”
“Wha–you asked! ” Hajime takes a moment to choose between irritation and concern; apparently he chooses the latter because he cards his fingers through Tooru’s hair, lowering his voice as he murmurs, “Look, this doesn’t...nothing has to–”
“If you say ‘nothing has to change’ I swear I will smother you with that pillow.” Tooru interrupts, glancing up from his hiding to glare at his obtuse best friend. Hajime’s eyes are wide, searching, his hand tightening reflexively against Tooru’s nape. The longer they stare, the redder their cheeks get until both have to look away.
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“Don’t play dumb with me Iwaizumi Hajime!” Oikawa cries. “You were staring at me the whole time!”
“You’re a moron. I was staring at you because you’re fucking hot,” Iwaizumi snaps back.
--
aka: Oikawa wears glasses and Iwaizumi has a Gay Panic over itBookmarked by Zanzz
30 Aug 2026
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“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa cries, bringing his sheets up to scream into the fabric. Iwaizumi sighs, patting his back in an attempt at sympathy.
“Koneko-sensei wears glasses and she isn’t ugly.”
“She’s old. All old people have glasses eventually. I’m still in my youth.” Oikawa rolls to his side bringing his sheets with him to cocoon himself, “My life is over.”
“You’re being stupid.”
“Everyone’s gonna laugh at me,” Oikawa continues, undeterred, “I’m gonna lose all my friends and I’ll have to drop out and live in a box.”
“No one’s going to laugh at you,” Iwaizumi snaps, getting annoyed by all the dramatics at this point. He should have just gotten his gym bag.
“How do you know?”
“‘Cause I’ll beat them up if they do,” Iwaizumi shrugs, “Just like in elementary school.”
Oikawa pauses, biting his lip. The longer the silence the hotter Iwaizumi’s ears burn, for whatever reason. Oikawa still doesn’t turn to face him, “What if Iwa-chan makes fun of me for them?”
“I won’t.” And even Iwaizumi is surprised by how seriously he says it. But it’s true. He won’t. Not if it bothers Oikawa like this.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
—
Oikawa looks back at him fiercely and there is redness around his eyes, the beginnings of tears in their corners, and Iwaizumi feels his heart start to shatter.
“You were making fun of me!”
And suddenly, the ice melts, and blood flows freely once more, sprinting through his veins to make up for the lost moment. He blinks, “Wait, what?”
“You promised! You promised you would never make fun of me for wearing my glasses! And then the one time, the one time, I finally let you see me in them you spend the whole hour laughing at me!”
—
“I’m going home,” Oikawa huffs quickly, trying to push past only for Iwaizumi to grab him this time. But instead of blabbering, the pressure in Iwaizumi chest becomes too much. He’s still not even sure he’s heard the other man correctly, but his entire body is on fire, and the steam in his heart needs to escape somewhere. So, he tugs him harshly, unbalancing him enough to bring his head down to Iwaizumi’s level and crash their lips together.
They pull away for a second, faces still close enough for their noses to touch, and Oikawa’s eyes are searching and wide. But then he blinks, and his gaze softens into something that makes Iwaizumi’s whole body melt.
And it feels like Oikawa is seeing him, all of him, clearly for the very first time.
He kisses him.
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Tags
Summary
Iwaizumi kind of wants kids. Oikawa kind of hates kids. They get a cat.
Series
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Tags
Summary
After knowing Oikawa for thirteen unfortunate years of his life, Iwaizumi can recognize an Oikawa-related trainwreck when he sees one.
Bookmarked by Zanzz
30 Aug 2026
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Bookmarker's Notes
Oikawa punches him hard in the arm, and Iwaizumi laughs louder. He pauses the movie and holds his arms open. “Hey now—kiss and make up?” Oikawa glares. Iwaizumi makes a beckoning motion with his hands and Oikawa scoots a little closer, scrunching up his nose. Iwaizumi slides down so that he’s lying on the couch with Oikawa. He pulls his still-wounded setter on top of him and kisses his nose. “It really was kind of cute,” he insists.
“I hate you,” Oikawa says vehemently.
“I know.” A kiss on his forehead.
“You tease me way too much, you hear?”
“I do.” A kiss on one cheek.
“And…and I don’t like it at all!”
“I believe you.” A kiss on the other cheek.
“Really, I don’t get why I put up with you.”
“Hmm.” A kiss on the mouth.
“Iwa-chan, you can’t just…cuddle your way out of trouble.” And another.
“I know.” Another.
“So you…should just…” Another.
Oikawa’s hands frame Iwaizumi’s jaw, fingers splayed across either side of his face, and he tilts Iwaizumi’s jaw to kiss him better. Iwaizumi’s hands are pressed to the small of Oikawa’s back protectively, legs twined together. Oikawa feels warm. So, so warm.
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Tags
Summary
An accident in practice sends Oikawa Tooru 10 years in the future where he spends an hour making some interesting discoveries.
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Tags
Summary
"The chance was too high, and Iwaizumi wasn’t willing to risk what he had at stake - which was his everything."
Iwaizumi had a bad feeling when Oikawa roped him into being an RA with him.
Bookmarked by Zanzz
26 Aug 2026
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Bookmarker's Notes
As soon as the graduates were released, Oikawa immediately found Iwaizumi, and wrapped him in a rib-crushing hug. Iwaizumi hugged him just as tightly, dropping his head onto Oikawa’s shoulder. “We did it, Iwa-chan.” He sounded breathless, and his eyes were big and brimming with tears as he pulled back. Then, he grabbed Iwaizumi’s wrist and tugged him toward where their families were making their way towards them.
Their families took them out to dinner at Oikawa's favourite restaurant. Afterwards, they found themselves sitting in the grass on the hillside of a nearby park, deserted save for the two of them. The sun had long since gone down - dinner took a long time - and they were seated close enough that Iwaizumi could feel heat from Oikawa’s arm.
—
He regarded the cork board, noticing how it was filled entirely with pictures of only the two of them or just Iwaizumi. He spotted the picture Oikawa’s mother had taken of them at graduation, Oikawa leaning his weight over Iwaizumi’s left shoulder, head thrown back as he laughed at something, while Iwaizumi looked at his friend with a grin of his own. That was one of his favorite pictures of the two of them. There were also countless photos of the two of them in their volleyball jerseys, smiling after winning a game, holding trophies after winning a tournament, action shots as Iwaizumi spiked a ball Oikawa had set to him. There were a few pictures of them at parties together, Oikawa’s eyes slightly hazy as he had his arm slung around Iwaizumi’s shoulders, a drink in his other hand. Another photo was a candid photo of Iwaizumi - first year, it looked like - doing homework with a sly smile on his face, likely because Oikawa had just done something dumb. The board was a physical representation of their friendship over the last six years, though they’d known each other for far longer.
The photo in question had been taken last month. It was dark, taken at night. Oikawa had insisted that they go downtown to watch fireworks, which turned into a whole night out. The selfie, taken by Oikawa, Iwaizumi behind his shoulder, was slightly blurry, likely due to Oikawa laughing at something. In the photo, indeed, he was laughing as he looked somewhere in the distance at the fireworks, face illuminated by a light pink. Behind him, Iwaizumi wasn’t looking at the same point as Oikawa, wasn’t watching the fireworks at all. No, Iwaizumi was gazing softly - almost lovingly at Oikawa.
—
“So mean, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined, shifting closer on the couch to Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi tried to suppress his sudden inhale at the proximity - their arms and thighs were now lightly pressed together, Oikawa leaning slightly against Iwaizumi. “And look, we just missed the best part!” Then, he leaned his head onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder and got into a more comfortable position to watch the rest of the movie.
Iwaizumi should really be one hundred percent, undeniably immune to all of Oikawa’s touchy tendencies after all this time. After all, for how many years had this been their default movie-watching position? How many times had they shared a bed? How often did Oikawa drape himself over Iwaizumi for no better reason than that he felt like it? Regardless, all of Oikawa’s physical whims still affected him almost as much as they did when they were in junior high.
—
“Rephrase time, then,” Oikawa said and took two fingers and a thumb to force Iwaizumi to look at him this time. “I’m in love with you, too, and I’m going to kiss you now.”
Iwaizumi’s heart had been through so much already. It felt like it may actually burst into a million pieces when Oikawa’s lips touched his own in a soft, chaste kiss. Oikawa’s hand on his cheek, other hand on his thigh, lips on his - Iwaizumi couldn’t keep up. But it’s amazing. It’s everything that Iwaizumi waited all these years for. It almost - almost - makes all of the pain he’d been through worth it.
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Tags
Summary
Iwaizumi comes home to his mate in heat. Oikawa may or may not have forgotten about how soon to expect it, and may or may not have forgotten to tell Iwaizumi about it.