nsfw, some violence, some breathplay; 412 words. sorry for typos!
—
oikawa's fingers curl deep into the collar of ushijima's uniform, tugs him closer as they hide in empty spaces, empty places where no one can ever find them. ushijima stumbles forward as he always does, silent and pliant, before oikawa pulls them both into a searing kiss of bruised lips and clashing teeth. oikawa shoves his tongue into ushijima's mouth before ushijima even has a chance to properly respond, lets him have everything he has to offer; ushijima learns emotions from the taste of oikawa's mouth (danger, envy, anger), the mint he was chewing earlier, the drops of sweat that manage to slip in.
ushijima's hands travel—like they always do, always. when oikawa hisses a no, ushijima stops and watches as oikawa's tongue grazes his top lip. oikawa pushes him back and he stumbles backwards until he collides with the lockers behind them, but his silence seems to spark something within oikawa, has oikawa pressing up against him until the two of them are practically melded together despite their clothes. ushijima sucks a sharp breath in and tilts his head to the side as oikawa leans into the curve of his neck, teeth sinking into the flesh; a hiss leaves ushijima's lips and that gets a jolt out of oikawa, has his hands sneaking under ushijima's jersey.
he wants to know those hands better, controlled setter hands he's admired for so long, rough and callused and abused from endless days of volleyball and that damned useless pride of oikawa's. ushijima grips oikawa's hips and presses his own into them and oikawa falters just for a moment, teeth leaving behind an ugly mark that ushijima knows he will have in the morning.
oikawa grips his shoulders hard, fingertips pressing deep into his skin as they meet gazes—oikawa's eyes are set aflame, a smoldering amber determined to burn him down (and he'll take oikawa with him, ushijima thinks, every time). thin fingers grip the back of ushijima's head and he's pulled forward to meet oikawa's lips once again, but he takes it this time, presses fingers hard enough into oikawa's hips to leave bruises to remind him that he's not the one winning here. both their lips part and their breaths melt into one another, oikawa then leaning in with a hand curled even tighter in ushijima's hair and the other around his throat.
i want to ruin you, oikawa hisses, and ushijima can taste the blood between his teeth, like you have ruined me.
FILL: TEAM KAGEYAMA TOBIO/OIKAWA TOORU, E.
—
oikawa's fingers curl deep into the collar of ushijima's uniform, tugs him closer as they hide in empty spaces, empty places where no one can ever find them. ushijima stumbles forward as he always does, silent and pliant, before oikawa pulls them both into a searing kiss of bruised lips and clashing teeth. oikawa shoves his tongue into ushijima's mouth before ushijima even has a chance to properly respond, lets him have everything he has to offer; ushijima learns emotions from the taste of oikawa's mouth (danger, envy, anger), the mint he was chewing earlier, the drops of sweat that manage to slip in.
ushijima's hands travel—like they always do, always. when oikawa hisses a no, ushijima stops and watches as oikawa's tongue grazes his top lip. oikawa pushes him back and he stumbles backwards until he collides with the lockers behind them, but his silence seems to spark something within oikawa, has oikawa pressing up against him until the two of them are practically melded together despite their clothes. ushijima sucks a sharp breath in and tilts his head to the side as oikawa leans into the curve of his neck, teeth sinking into the flesh; a hiss leaves ushijima's lips and that gets a jolt out of oikawa, has his hands sneaking under ushijima's jersey.
he wants to know those hands better, controlled setter hands he's admired for so long, rough and callused and abused from endless days of volleyball and that damned useless pride of oikawa's. ushijima grips oikawa's hips and presses his own into them and oikawa falters just for a moment, teeth leaving behind an ugly mark that ushijima knows he will have in the morning.
oikawa grips his shoulders hard, fingertips pressing deep into his skin as they meet gazes—oikawa's eyes are set aflame, a smoldering amber determined to burn him down (and he'll take oikawa with him, ushijima thinks, every time). thin fingers grip the back of ushijima's head and he's pulled forward to meet oikawa's lips once again, but he takes it this time, presses fingers hard enough into oikawa's hips to leave bruises to remind him that he's not the one winning here. both their lips part and their breaths melt into one another, oikawa then leaning in with a hand curled even tighter in ushijima's hair and the other around his throat.
i want to ruin you, oikawa hisses, and ushijima can taste the blood between his teeth, like you have ruined me.