It's one of those nights, the late of summer laying humid air thick and heavy on skin, a pleasant kind of wet, and Oikawa stays late after practice, pushing himself through solitary drills across the court until he's run ragged and dry and the tightness in his long limbs pleads, no more.
Oikawa is locking up the gym, slowly and carefully, the fatigue set so deep he needs to steady his limbs around the small ring of keys so they don't slip from his shaky grasp. Iwa-chan is going to yell at me tomorrow, and a liquid gurgle of amusement slips through the tilt of his mouth as he thinks about the familiar little frown that always settles on Iwaizumi's brow. It is its own kind of comfort.
"Oikawa-san, I knew you were still here! Oikawa-san, please teach me how to--!"
The voice is all too familiar, the shadow of it something that's been trailing Oikawa all too closely of late. There's the light footfall of sneakers hitting pavement, rounding the corner at speed, and suddenly there's Kageyama, here, now, of all places.
There's an almost imperceptible wet slick of sound as Oikawa narrows his eyes, and a tentacle shoots out, catches Kageyama right in the chest and pins him against the brick wall. Oikawa can feel the rapid beating of Kageyama's heart under the sensitive suckers, and he almost smiles.
"Ghrgu, gugrhhurg jhugsugr ugrhh," and there's an almost pleasant bubbling to his voice, like Oikawa isn't exhausted, like he isn't slick with slime and the trill of a different kind of adrenaline now as Kageyama squirms a little under the thick tentacle; his face is flushed red as he tries to gulp down air and there's a strangely determined look on his face that scrunches his mouth into a funny little moue. It's almost cute.
Kageyama flushes even redder, if that were possibe, turns his face into his shoulder to mumble something into the fabric of his shirt. But it doesn't matter, because his hands are also sliding hesitantly down the tentacle pressed against his chest, and Oikawa feels the little twitch of Kageyama's hip as his fingertips run lightly over one of the suckers.
"Gugjrrgshg ugrsghg grhur gshguggjhrsr" and Oikawa slowly lifts the hem of Kageyama's shirt with two tentacles, watches him squirm as the cool slick feeling of them runs over his ribs. "Gurghr guggrsurgsrh guhrrsursgr."
Kageyama opens his mouth to protest, but Oikawa expects this, takes the opportunity to quickly slide another tentacle past the surprise of teeth to settle thick on Kageyama's tongue. Oikawa burbles, pleased by the warm lips stretched around the large appendage. There's a little choked noise as the tentacle fills Kageyama's mouth, but his tongue immediately presses up against the tentacle, does his best to swallow it down. A good, obedient kouhai as always.
Another tentacle slithers up, thick and wet. Oikawa is suddenly not so tired afterall.
FILL: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI, T
sexual content, tentacles, underage
original fill by
"daddy, how did you and daddy meet??" uhhhhhh
--
It's one of those nights, the late of summer laying humid air thick and heavy on skin, a pleasant kind of wet, and Oikawa stays late after practice, pushing himself through solitary drills across the court until he's run ragged and dry and the tightness in his long limbs pleads, no more.
Oikawa is locking up the gym, slowly and carefully, the fatigue set so deep he needs to steady his limbs around the small ring of keys so they don't slip from his shaky grasp. Iwa-chan is going to yell at me tomorrow, and a liquid gurgle of amusement slips through the tilt of his mouth as he thinks about the familiar little frown that always settles on Iwaizumi's brow. It is its own kind of comfort.
"Oikawa-san, I knew you were still here! Oikawa-san, please teach me how to--!"
The voice is all too familiar, the shadow of it something that's been trailing Oikawa all too closely of late. There's the light footfall of sneakers hitting pavement, rounding the corner at speed, and suddenly there's Kageyama, here, now, of all places.
There's an almost imperceptible wet slick of sound as Oikawa narrows his eyes, and a tentacle shoots out, catches Kageyama right in the chest and pins him against the brick wall. Oikawa can feel the rapid beating of Kageyama's heart under the sensitive suckers, and he almost smiles.
"Ghrgu, gugrhhurg jhugsugr ugrhh," and there's an almost pleasant bubbling to his voice, like Oikawa isn't exhausted, like he isn't slick with slime and the trill of a different kind of adrenaline now as Kageyama squirms a little under the thick tentacle; his face is flushed red as he tries to gulp down air and there's a strangely determined look on his face that scrunches his mouth into a funny little moue. It's almost cute.
Kageyama flushes even redder, if that were possibe, turns his face into his shoulder to mumble something into the fabric of his shirt. But it doesn't matter, because his hands are also sliding hesitantly down the tentacle pressed against his chest, and Oikawa feels the little twitch of Kageyama's hip as his fingertips run lightly over one of the suckers.
"Gugjrrgshg ugrsghg grhur gshguggjhrsr" and Oikawa slowly lifts the hem of Kageyama's shirt with two tentacles, watches him squirm as the cool slick feeling of them runs over his ribs. "Gurghr guggrsurgsrh guhrrsursgr."
Kageyama opens his mouth to protest, but Oikawa expects this, takes the opportunity to quickly slide another tentacle past the surprise of teeth to settle thick on Kageyama's tongue. Oikawa burbles, pleased by the warm lips stretched around the large appendage. There's a little choked noise as the tentacle fills Kageyama's mouth, but his tongue immediately presses up against the tentacle, does his best to swallow it down. A good, obedient kouhai as always.
Another tentacle slithers up, thick and wet. Oikawa is suddenly not so tired afterall.