Chapter Text
And a butt plug in an asshole.
Iwaizumi Hajime has fucked up big time.
There’s a ninety percent chance of snow, a one hundred percent chance of blue balls, and an eighty percent chance that he’s never going to fuck his long-distance boyfriend ever again.
He rests his forehead against the steering wheel. “Fuck.”
He’s horny.
It’s been exactly two hundred and fifty-one days since he last fucked Oikawa.
And, what is he doing instead of fucking that man until he’s walking crooked? Sitting in his car, freezing his nuts off because he fell asleep watching some lame ass Christmas movie when he was supposed to be picking Oikawa up from the airport.
Oikawa waited for eight and a half hours.
Needless to say, when they got back to Iwaizumi’s apartment, Oikawa locked himself in the bedroom. Alone. So, now Iwaizumi is out in the middle of the night, driving around in snowy circles trying to find a gift good enough to fix this.
He throws the car in drive and pulls back onto the road. “Happy fucking holidays.”
“On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…”
“Fucking nothing,” Iwaizumi snaps at the radio. “Stupid ass song.”
Iwaizumi careens quickly around a corner. Too quickly for the road conditions. His wheels hit a patch of ice. “Shit.”
The car slides, and he’s crushed against the driver side door as his wheels spin out. He fumbles with the steering, trying to get the car to listen, but it continues on its determined path.
Because why the fuck not?
Why not die the same night his boyfriend refuses to talk to him?
But it appears the grim reaper has other plans tonight because the car slides for what seems like an impossibly long time, and finally slows to a stop in front of a pink neon sign like it’s meant to be.
The Right Spot Sex Shop.
There’s gold in the window. Five pieces of it on display.
At that same moment, the radio hits the notes. “...five golden rings…”
Iwaizumi stares. And, stares. And stares. A half-formed idea begins to take shape in his head as the song runs through, four, three, two and a…His eyes land on another toy in the display window. The rest of the words fall into place on their own.
It’s a Christmas Miracle.
Iwaizumi fights with his seatbelt, giving into the Christmas magic.
Eight and a half fucking hours.
Oikawa should be sleeping, but the sheer rage coursing through his body has him glaring up at the ceiling. Twenty-four hours on a plane, a twelve-hour time difference, and eight and a half fucking hours in an airport, while his so-called boyfriend gets all the beauty sleep he wants.
Oikawa’s rage is overheating him in the blankets. He kicks his legs in a fury, getting them caught. “Piece of shit—”
“Tooru?”
Oikawa stills, pretending to play dead because that’s what Iwaizumi deserves.
Iwaizumi sighs at the silence. “I got you a gift.”
A pathetic, groveling attempt at reconciliation. Oikawa crosses his arms over his chest.
“A few gifts actually.”
A few?
Well, look at that, suddenly Oikawa is rising from the dead.
He walks quietly to the door and cracks it open. “As you should.”
Iwaizumi stands there, looking like a scolded child, a silver gift-wrapped box with a big red bow tied around it in his hands. “I’m sorry.”
Oikawa huffs. Only looks like one gift, so not only is Iwaizumi the worst, he’s also a liar.
“It’s a sex toy,” he starts. Oikawa goes to slam the door closed. Iwaizumi catches it with his foot. “Listen.”
“I’m sorry, that privilege is reserved for people who pick their boyfriends up on—”
“It’s a toy for you to get off,” Iwaizumi says in a rush. “You can punish me for falling asleep and not picking you up on time by getting off without me. I won’t even come unless you say I can. Please, it’ll be fun.” He shuffles from foot to foot looking the correct amount of ashamed. “And, there’s more. One for each day leading up to Christmas.”
Oikawa opens the door further, and looks past Iwaizumi’s shoulder to a stack of presents sitting under the tree. They look enticing. Every last one of them beautifully wrapped, and he’d be lying if he said the one in Iwaizumi’s hands isn’t tempting him either.
“It’ll be torture,” Iwaizumi admits, “to watch you come without me.”
It has been a very long time since someone else did the work for him. Oikawa purses his lips, takes in his boyfriend basically begging to jerk him off. Oikawa steps out of the bedroom and brushes past Iwaizumi. “Let’s see if you can get your boyfriend privileges reinstated.”
Iwaizumi sinks a second lubed finger into Oikawa’s asshole, and Oikawa’s stomach flexes against the table he’s currently bent over. His small, breathy pants fill the air as he closes his eyes, giving himself a moment to stretch.
Before he’s entirely adjusted, those thick fingers start to laboriously fuck into him, thrusting in places Oikawa hasn’t been touched in months by another person, and it takes everything in him not to whimper. The slippery, wet heat of someone inside him has his face burrowing into the table.
“None of that, now Tooru.” Iwaizumi’s clean hand gently grips the back of his neck, thumb leisurely caressing his nape. It’s gentle, too gentle compared to the fingers roughly driving into him. Iwaizumi’s hand creeps up into his hair, still too soft of a touch, and Oikawa braces himself, anticipating, but not quite sure for what yet.
The hand grabs his hair and yanks his head to the side.
“I want to see your face,” Iwaizumi says.
Oikawa glares from the corner of his eye at the sadistic grin delighting across Iwaizumi’s unfairly perfect face. His gaze, uncooperating with him, drops to Iwaizumi’s broad chest. The divot between his thick pecs is pronounced as they press together, and Oikawa, unable to turn his head even a fraction away, can’t help staring. His mouth waters. He hates himself for it, giving away how much he wants Iwaizumi when the man is supposed to be serving time for forgetting him at the airport.
The want must be clear on his face because Iwaizumi lets go of his hair so he can trace Oikawa’s scowling lips with his thumb. “You’re pretty when you’re mad.”
“I’m always pretty.”
Iwaizumi cups his ass, squeezing hard, and his eyes linger on the pale curve as if in agreement. His fingers thrust twice more into Oikawa before leaving entirely. “You’re pretty when you come too,” Iwaizumi says plainly.
It shouldn’t make Oikawa blush, he knows Iwaizumi likes watching when his back arches, and his toes curl, and his cock spills, and yet, Oikawa can feel the heat spreading over his cheeks.
Iwaizumi keeps him pinned against the table with the weight of his hips while his hand creeps over to the beautifully wrapped gift next to Oikawa’s head. “Day one,” he mutters quietly, but mostly to himself. Iwaizumi tugs at the red ribbon and it cascades to the table before he lifts the lid and pulls out a butt plug.
Oikawa’s eyes widen. “Iwa…”
“You know you can take it.” Iwaizumi drags his slicked-up fingers over the thick black silicone teardrop shape. “You’ve handled bigger.”
Longer, yes. Deeper, yes. Thicker than this? Not so much.
Oikawa licks his lips.
It’s going to feel massive inside him.
“Legs apart.” Iwaizumi kicks at his feet, forcing Oikawa’s legs to split further. The cold air against his hole makes him clench. Well aware of Iwaizumi’s unwavering gaze taking in the fluttering pink ring of muscle, Oikawa’s blush deepens. “So, well-behaved, Tooru.”
Oikawa’s jaw sets.
He’s going to take this, and he’s going to take it well.
And, Iwaizumi will be left sexually frustrated while watching.
The tip of the teardrop presses against his hole, and Iwaizumi – bastard that he is – takes his time to spin it slowly, spreading more lube around before pushing it in. Oikawa groans as he stretches around it.
“Relax, Tooru,” Iwaizumi reminds.
Right. Oikawa inhales shakily, relaxing as he lets it out.
Iwaizumi fits the plug into place. Its flared base rests cool against Oikawa’s ass and Iwaizumi pats his cheek right next to it. It jostles inside him. “You take it so well.”
“I know I do,” Oikawa fires back, but his voice is strained.
“Let’s see how well you take this.”
There’s a soft click behind him.
Oikawa bites his lip, moaning as the toy starts to vibrate inside him. It hums against his prostate, almost too gently, and his cock twitches where it hangs between his legs. He’s about to turn his face away again when he remembers Iwaizumi will correct him and Iwaizumi doesn’t deserve to correct him, so he stays where he is, trying not to show the bliss on his face.
It’s been a long time since Oikawa’s been under someone else’s hand and it’s sending him towards his edge quicker than he would alone doing the exact same thing. There’s something utterly intoxicating about having Iwaizumi watch him.
Iwaizumi reaches beneath him, a firm hand stroking his cock, and Oikawa’s hips jolt hard against the table. They ache after the thud. A fingertip glides against his slit, collecting the precum that’s leaking out of him.
The cold is sudden as Iwaizumi pulls his hands away. A thick whine threatens at the back of Oikawa's throat, one he refuses to give even while his cock throbs at the loss. It’s almost embarrassing, how little Iwaizumi is doing to get this response out of him.
There’s a slurping sound behind him. “You taste good, Tooru.”
Oh fuck. Oikawa clenches around the toy – hissing – as he understands Iwaizumi is licking Oikawa's precum off of his fingers. He can’t see it, but the lewd sounds alone make his head light as the toy continues to buzz against his prostate.
Iwaizumi leans forward, pushing on the toy with his hip, and the pressure inside Oikawa increases. He thuds a fist against the table. But Iwaizumi is just getting a better angle to reach beneath him. He strokes Oikawa's cock rougher, quicker this time. His familiar grip dragging from base to tip with every relentless drag.
Oikawa twitches against the table. It’s been too long since Iwaizumi touched him, and he knows exactly what to do, paying particular attention to Oikawa’s head on the upstroke, and never letting up his grip at all.
There’s a smooth build inside of Oikawa, pressure thickening at his tip as he tenses around the plug, and he bangs his fist again. Iwaizumi’s large hand pulses over his head in small movements before giving him a lengthy stroke.
Oikawa squeaks as he topples over sooner than he expected. His hips jerk into the hard edge of the table as he comes, spilling cum directly onto the tilted floor. It’s vulgar as it drips down.
He’s left breathing hard. Knees feeling weak.
But he’s given no chance to recover.
“You have one more in you,” Iwaizumi tells him.
One warm, large hand splays against Oikawa’s lower back, pushing him down against the table and he feels so incredibly full as the plug continues its relentless hum against his prostate, making pleasure spread inside him. He’s going to keel over if this keeps up. But Iwaizumi is there, hips pressed to Oikawa’s ass to hold him in place. There’s the thick feel of his cock against Oikawa’s right ass cheek, just to the side of the butt plug and suddenly, that’s all Oikawa wants.
It's all he’s wanted for months, and they both know it. It easily breaks him.
The string of words Oikawa gives though is an incoherent mess.
It’s made worse when Iwaizumi starts to play with his limp dick, toying with it, running his thumb around the head in circles. Not gently, of course. Not when Oikawa is messy and overly sensitive and not even sure what words he’s trying to say.
All he knows is need. Body aching for Iwaizumi.
They’re not close enough.
There’re two more clicks, and Oikawa keels as the vibrations buzz faster against his oversensitive prostate. Iwaizumi’s hand returns to stroking him, lighter this time, more loosely, but after coming once it almost burns.
After a minute or so, Oikawa yelps when Iwaizumi pushes the vibrations up once more, as if really making sure Oikawa can feel it. Not that there’s any doubt.
Fuck. He can feel it. His cock gets weighty and thick between his legs again.
Iwaizumi grabs the flared base and starts to spin the plug inside him.
The lights of the Christmas tree blur as tears pool against Oikawa’s eyelids. He blinks, and one slides down his cheekbone and dribbles to the table beneath him. His whole body is a slow burning furnace. His impending orgasm is spreading lazily down his cock, tightening leisurely, desperate for some relief from the endless tremoring inside him.
Iwaizumi pushes against the plug with his hip again, wedging it further inside of Oikawa, but it isn’t enough. It’s not reaching where he needs it.
He needs something deeper.
Needs something that will reach places that haven’t been touched in months.
“Hajime…” Oikawa’s breathless, losing his grip on reality. On his resolve. “Fuck…”
Iwaizumi pushes up on the plug again, and Oikawa’s lower back arches as the toy twists inside of him, and rolls against his walls as it buzzes. “Please.”
“Please what, Tooru?”
“Fuck me,” Oikawa cries. “Just fuck me.”
“Are my boyfriend privileges reinstated?”
“Yes,” Oikawa says through his teeth.
The plug widens him as it’s pulled out, making his hole stretch around the thickest part of it. He beats a fist against the table until the thick sensation is gone. The loss makes him give a low-pitched whine. Need spreading through him. “Please.”
“I’m right here, Tooru.” Then, the tip of Iwaizumi’s slicked up cock touches Oikawa’s hole. Oikawa impatiently shoves backwards, slipping Iwaizumi into his stretched-out hole, and Iwaizumi’s hands thud onto the table next to Oikawa’s head to keep his balance. “So, needy.”
“Fuck me,” Oikawa cries, “or I’m going to do it for you.”
“No, I’ve got,” his inhale is a rasp, “I’ve got it.”
Iwaizumi folds over him, sweaty slick skin sliding against Oikawa’s back. Swollen pecs and perked nipples drag across him, and Oikawa wants – no needs – to be owned by this man.
Oikawa eyes Iwaizumi’s hand next to his head, braced to hold him up as he begins thrusting into Oikawa, and Oikawa’s tongue flops out of his mouth, reaching just the edge. The salt of Iwaizumi’s fingers is a burst on his taste buds, and shortly, Iwaizumi is cursing and shoving his fingers into Oikawa’s mouth.
Oikawa licks at them, sucks at them, like it’s an involuntary need.
“Fucking hell,” Iwaizumi whispers. “I can’t hold – it’s been – too long.”
His pace is off now as he gets close. The table scrapes across the floor.
Oikawa clenches around him.
Iwaizumi’s body goes rigid, and then he comes with a groan.
Warmth fills Oikawa, floods deep inside of him as Iwaizumi’s orgasm crashes through him. His thighs smack the back of Oikawa’s ass. Oikawa feels so full, so hazy with heat, and he jerks against the table, happily following Iwaizumi's lead.
Oikawa's second orgasm spreads thin and neat, holding inside him for a long stretch before he comes around Iwaizumi’s cock. At some point, Iwaizumi finishes, collapsing on top of him, but Oikawa continues spasming through his orgasm until he has nothing left to give.
They lay on the table, breathing hard. Iwaizumi’s sweaty chest is sticky against Oikawa’s back. His dick is softening inside Oikawa, but like he doesn’t quite want to separate yet, Iwaizumi stays there. Oikawa clenches around him, liking the fullness of having his boyfriend’s cock, soft as it is, back inside him.
Iwaizumi bends to kiss the back of his neck. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed us.”
Oikawa curls up on the couch in a thick blanket that smells like Iwaizumi. A pine scented candle burns on the coffee table as he cradles a mug of hot chocolate. He showered first, Iwaizumi insisting he clean up the mess they made of the kitchen floor and the table since Oikawa must be jetlagged and tired, which is true, but still, it was nice not to have to clean.
Now, Iwaizumi’s showering before they cuddle and watch a movie.
The butt plug is sitting on the coffee table back in its fancy box. The rest of the gifts all sit beneath the tree, beautifully wrapped, and knowing Iwaizumi’s wrapping skills someone must have helped him. Given what toys could be hiding in the boxes it must have been someone he trusts.
He takes another sip of hot chocolate when something glints on the opened gift.
There’s an envelope attached to the box with his name on it. Oikawa plucks it off and tears it open to see Iwaizumi’s handwriting scrawled into the inside of the card.
On the first day of Christmas my boyfriend gave to me…a butt plug for an asshole.
Oikawa laughs softly.
Eleven days to go my love.
-Hajime.
Oikawa glances back at the gifts, counting eleven in total. His heart softens, not only at the gifts, but at the thought and effort Iwaizumi’s put in. His fingers touch the edge of the fancy letter paper, excitement pooling in his gut for the remaining eleven days of surprises.
Especially knowing, he has a surprise of his own.