Work Text:
Hajime sets out the towel on his bed, a few water bottles on the side table, his toys are a hands reach away. He walks to the closet and pulls out an old sweatshirt - Aoba Johsai. On the right shoulder is not the reliable number 4 but the number 1. Oikawa’s.
He’d stolen it from the asshole before he left for Argentina. Hajime’s not even embarrassed anymore. He’s used it for every heat since Oikawa left – holding it close, biting it, humping against it. At his dresser, he sprays it with the closest scent to Oikawa’s that he’s been able to find – it’s sweet, floral, maybe lilac. Hajime breathes deeply and holds back a whimper as the smell tingles down his spine.
His heats are so much easier to handle now that he’s off his suppressants. When he was only going through them once a season they were exhausting. His monthly heats are much more manageable. And it’s not like he’s hiding that he’s an omega anymore. There isn’t anyone here for him to hide it from.
He walks to the bed and curls up with Oikawa’s sweater. It was easier to let Oikawa and the rest of his team (but mainly Oikawa) keep assuming he was just a late blooming alpha. Then Oikawa left for Argentina and took Hajime’s heart with him and he figured there wasn’t any reason to keep up the lie. It’s not like he can fuck up their friendship by getting wet at Oikawa’s scent when he’s on the other side of the fucking world.
“Fuck.” He breathes in again, lets his mind wander to the man who’s had his heart since fifteen.
Oikawa with his broad shoulders and strong arms. Hajime has watched every one of Oikawa’s games that he can find online. Oikawa was always deadly compact muscle and he’s only filled out more. His mind travels down Oikawa’s back to his legs. Thighs muscular and beautiful. He thinks about Oikawa’s thighs under his hands, under his tongue.
His skin is beginning to heat, his mind is going fuzzy as hormones fill his veins. He wants it so badly – wants Oikawa’s body, his skin, his touch. Hajime takes off his shirt, pants, underwear, throwing it as far away from him as he can. Oikawa has never touched him like that. In that way he so desperately wants. But fuck is he sure it would be good, that it would be perfect.
Hajime fumbles for a dildo. He’s feeling. So. Empty. “Tooru.” He doesn’t stop the needy whisper when he finally pushes into himself. He’s just getting started and already feels the slick gather and leak, the toy easily sliding in and out of him. He pushes it deep, keeps it there to help himself feel full.
With a foggy brain, he hears his phone ring. It draws his eye. The sound is too loud - his heat making him sensitive to every little sensory input around him. He needs it to stop so he presses the button he knows will make that happen.
“Hello Iwa-chan~”
Hajime turns his head and moans into his pillow. No, fuck. He meant to hang up. Not answer. He takes heavy breaths, tries his best to clear the desperate want from his mind. “Shittykawa.”
Oikawa clicks his tongue. “Don’t be mean! I won’t give you your surprise if you’re mean.”
He can feel his chest heaving, feel his insides clench at the toy still inside him. His primal side is screaming how much he likes Oikawa’s words, how badly he wants to please Oikawa. “I’m busy. What do you want?” He bites each word out, hopes Oikawa will read his shortness as frustration and not desperation.
"Let me in."
That's the first thing that's really pushed through Hajime's arousal. "What?"
"I'm downstairs!"
"You're in Argentina."
"Nope!" He pops the p in a way that charms Hajime entirely too much. "It's my vacation, why would I be in Argentina?"
"You're not. You're in Brazil for a setter's workshop." He's sure Oikawa mentioned it.
"It was a lie~" He sing songs the word. "Is your apartment code still the same? I can let myself in."
Why did he tell Oikawa his code? Why is Oikawa here? "No. Don't."
"See you soon~"
Oikawa hangs up before Hajime can stop him. Though Hajime's not sure if he could stop him. He never entertained the real possibility of Oikawa seeing him like this - of being with Oikawa when he's like this. He moves the toy out of his hole, his slick wetting the towel below him. Hajime smells him before he hears him.
"Iwa-chan~ I'm home~"
Oikawa's words are followed by a clatter. Oikawa must have dropped something or hit something. Oh god. If Hajime can smell Oikawa there is no way Oikawa can't smell him. And not just smell the fact that he's an omega but smell Hajime's desperate and immediate need to be fucked and bred. Oikawa's sweater fills his closed fists as he stuffs his mouth with the fabric and groans, loudly.
In the next breath, Hajime sees Oikawa at the door to his room. He barely registers the image of Oikawa - sun tanned and blushing and here - before Oikawa is over him and kissing him. It makes every animal instinct in him shiver. Yes this is it. This is perfect. Why was he hiding from this?
"Iwa-chan." Oikawa sits back. His jaw is tight, every muscle rigid as he forces out each word. "I can't. I can't control myself with you like this." He pushes his forehead to Hajime's, takes a steadying breath. "Do you want me to leave?"
The words sound pained, like they're scratching at the sides of Oikawa's throat as he says them.
Hajime shakes his head. "No."
Oikawa kisses him again. He pulls off his own clothes, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head. Hajime leans up to attach his mouth to Oikawa's chest. He bites at the curve of Oikawa's pecs, licks up to his collarbones. As always, Oikawa is perfect. Or maybe he's just always been perfect to Hajime.
It's so much better like this than any of Hajime's fantasies. Every bit of skin that Oikawa touches burns in the most satisfying way. Hajime runs his nose up Oikawa's neck. The smell is even more than he remembers. He thinks about when he first presented, when every alpha he'd meet would smell strong and off-putting, like they were all trying to pass off dominance as masculinity. And then there was Oikawa - soft and sweet and dizzyingly delightful. Hajime forces down the word mate from the back of his mind.
He licks at the sweet spot where Oikawa's neck meets his shoulder. He can't stop himself, knows he'll sound like he's begging and maybe he is, "Come on, Tooru." The name is out of his mouth before he can think about it and Oikawa kisses him in response. It's somehow hungrier than the first, Oikawa's lips and tongue claiming him.
Oikawa's fingers have found their way to the toy plugging him up. He pulls at it as if it offends him. "You don't need that. I'll make sure you never need that again." The useless silicon is replaced by three of Oikawa's fingers working into his hole. Hajime groans, widens his legs so Oikawa can reach farther. Oikawa's naked now as he leans over Hajime, his mouth close to Hajime's ear, "You're beautiful like this." Each sentence sends a new wave of want through him, sends more wetness to cover Oikawa's hand. "What a good, sweet boy."
Hajime doesn't think he's ever been this turned on, this fuck-hazy, as he grips and pulls at Oikawa. "Please Tooru. It's not enough." He feels himself tear up, everything becoming too much for him to process.
"Fuck, shit. Hajime." Oikawa manhandles Hajime until he's laying on his stomach with Oikawa behind him. "I never knew. I never thought." Oikawa's words aren't making sense. They're half formed sentences stuttered out through his hormonal state. Hajime keens at the thought - I made him like this.
Oikawa holds Hajime in place. It doesn't feel like a threat, it feels like a promise. Oikawa is going to take care of him, Oikawa's going to make him feel better, make him feel so good. With Oikawa's knees settled on either side of Hajime's body, he begins a devastating fuck into Hajime's hole. Hajime's face pushes into the fabric below him - Oikawa's high school sweatshirt. He moans into it as Oikawa fills him over and over. It's a deep and powerful fuck, each cell in his body lost in the feeling of being taken so thoroughly.
Oikawa keeps kissing at his neck, biting and licking his shoulder as he pounds into Hajime. "Perfect boy." He sucks a bruise behind Hajime's ear. "So wet, and ready for me. Made just for me." Hajime tries to nod, to agree, though all he manages is another whimper, each snap of Oikawa's hips reaching that perfect spot inside him. "Gonna knot you." Oikawa's grunting now. His pace turning frenzied and uncontrolled. "Gonna keep you stuffed with it."
"Please." Hajime manages. He squeezes his eyes shut as he feels Oikawa's cock swell in size, the last few thrusts stretching him wider and wider. A small and breathy Hajime leaves Oikawa's lips when he finally knots Hajime full, Oikawa's cum a deep warmth inside him.
Shaking against the towel beneath him, Hajime's body tightens as he comes in a wet mess. They fall asleep for a while after that. Hajime waking up with Oikawa soft inside him. The feeling, the smell, quickly leaves Hajime leaking around Oikawa's cock. Oikawa is half asleep when he makes Hajime come the second time.
It's the fifth or sixth time before Hajime's settled enough to think again. His heart is in his throat. Oikawa is up making them both sandwiches and Hajime has no fucking idea what to say to him.
Oikawa walks in, loose boxers low on his hips and nothing else. He sets a plate on the bed in front of Hajime. "Eat that." Without fuss he leans up and kisses Hajime on the forehead.
Hajime nods. He's sure he's frowning but Oikawa knows by now that that doesn't mean much. "Thanks."
"Were you ever going to tell me?" He's leaning back on his palms.
Hajime shrugs. "Probably would have had to eventually."
"Hmm." He looks over at Hajime and his gaze is as disarming today as it was at seventeen. "I wish you would have told me sooner."
"Wouldn't have made a difference."
"Maybe not." He reaches to grab his own high school sweater, his thumb running over the stitched on 1. "Do you think..." He hesitates, unsure. It's a look Hajime hates to see on Oikawa. Oikawa is always meant to be an arrogant jerk. "If I asked you to come to Argentina, would you?"
Hajime swallows. "To visit?"
It's Oikawa's turn to shrug, a false act of indifference. "If you wanted. Or...or you could stay."
"Oikawa..." Hajime's heart hammers in his chest.
"You called me Tooru before."
"Ask me again before you leave. If you still want me when we've...calmed down...then you can ask me."
He moves a hand to Hajime's jaw, rubs a thumb along he's cheek. "I'll want you then. I've always wanted you. But alright, I'll wait to ask you while we pack our bags." 🌱💕