IwaOi One Shots (smut)

1

1.

As soon as the bell rang, no, probably seconds before it, Iwaizumi was out the class door and thumping down the corridor.

"Oi!" Hanamaki called out after him, "what's the rush?!"

Too pumped up to care, he didn't dare look back as his legs moved with only one goal in mind. Seeking out that something to quench the heat that grew within him.

Half of his mind knew there'd be consequences to the reckless pace his body was moving in, but before he could comprehend anything he'd taken a sharp turn and bam, he'd bumped into a girl a foot shorter than him.

"Ah!-" the girl cried, and before her small frame could fall over, Iwaizumi had already grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

"Shit— Sayuri, I'm so sorry." Hajime face tensed in a way that his facial expression screamed frustration and apologies. "I wasn't paying attention."

"It's fine, Iwaizumi," Sayuri giggled. "I'm equally to blame."

That ignited an awkward laugh within Iwaizumi. Realizing he was holding her arm too hard, he let go, but her hands were still clutching the lapels of his blazer. She looked up at him with sincerity. "You didn't let me fall."

"No, I didn't." Iwaizumi laughed nervously. His heart was pounding and he heard the blood circulating in his ears. She didn't make any efforts to draw back, instead remaining pressed against him, her hands still on his clothing. Looking up at him, she was all pale skin, brown eyes and long, straight brown hair. Iwaizumi gulped, and hoped to god she didn't feel that he was half-hard down there.

"Listen," Iwaizumi breathed, "I've got some place to be." He gently held her arms and created a respectable distance between them.

"Oh, r-right." She backpedaled immediately and it almost made him feel bad for her, but his body was screaming at him to move. The burning in his groin was nothing he could ignore.

He gave one more apology and strode past her and into the swarm of students. He knew that he must've looked a like a rampaging demon as he rushed past them and up the stairs, down the corridors talking left and right turns— it was all a blur. When he stood in front of the beige door, alone on a secluded floor of the school, the blood had drained from his brain. His cock was stiff, and all he could do was think of long lashes and the seductive soft voice that had sung to him and brought him here, like a mermaid singing sailors to their deaths.

Do you know the utility closet up on the third floor?

Iwaizumi shuddered. With his patience run out, he swiftly turned the knob and pushed open the door. And there he was— that fucking minx.

"I was beginning to think you weren't gonna come," he said with that honeyed voice which swayed over to Iwaizumi like poison.

Poison that left him breathless and vulnerable.

That didn't stop him from using rage as a mask. "Oikawa, you dirty shit!" He slammed the door shut behind him. Standing inside, it was cramped, their strong frames figuratively standing nose to nose. The heat radiating off their bodies was enough to suffocate.

Oikawa feigned surprise, bringing his hand up to his pink lips. "You shouldn't make so much noise. I don't wanna get caught." His tie was loose around his neck, and Iwaizumi couldn't help his eyes from wandering down to the skin that peeked underneath his shirt.

"Shut up," Iwaizumi grit his teeth, hands fumbling with his belt. His cock needed release from his clothing. Pants pooling around his ankles, his cock sprung up, hot and hard, throbbing and sensitive. "Now."