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I Hate You

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Ushijima seethed as he walked toward the dressing rooms. Pace quick and unwavering he nearly slammed into a few people, anyone smart who saw him coming got out of his way. He pushed through the door to the men’s dressing room and nearly punched the wall when Iwaizumi wasn’t there. No one was, it was empty. Fuck. He was going to punch Iwaizumi when he saw him.

 

He didn’t have to wait long, he felt a quick slap on his ass, followed by a hand squeezing him. He groaned.

 

“I fucking hate you.” Ushijima spun to face the other man. Iwaizumi stuck his tongue out trying to bite back his smirk, something he’d learnt from his years with Oikawa. “Seriously, I wish I could make you disappear.”

 

Iwaizumi widened his eyes facetiously, as if to say, ‘go on’. “If you ever touch me again, no, if you ever touch me again in general, I’m calling security on you.” Iwaizumi raised his hands in a gesture of faux innocence, grinning like a moron the whole time.

 

“So, if I can’t touch you,” He paused, “I shouldn’t do this?” Iwaizumi took a step forward. Ushijima mirrored him, stepping back.

 

“Stop it.” Ushijima frowned, wanting to dodge out of the way, but he was blocked by the ace’s wide stance.

 

Fuck, the Seijou ace. That still pissed him off.

 

Iwaizumi repeated the motion, and Ushijima found there was nowhere else to go. He was backed against the wall, literally. Iwaizumi frowned,

 

“But if I can’t touch you,” He put his arms to each side of Ushijima, blocking him in. “This would be fine.”

 

“I’m not playing this game with you, now let me go.” Ushijima said, quieter than he would have liked. He didn’t like being fenced in. Iwaizumi relented, sitting hard on a bench behind him.

 

“You got to chill out man, loosen up.” Iwaizumi shrugged. Ushijima grimaced; all thoughts of violence replaced with annoyance. He started to walk away. “Get laid?” Iwaizumi suggested. Ushijima stopped dead in his tracks. His fingers clenched, he was about to tell Iwaizumi exactly where he could stuff that shit suggestion, but then-

 

There were few positives to knowing your worst enemy as well as Ushijima knew his, but this was going to be one of them.

 

Ushijima pivoted. Marching back toward Iwaizumi, who looked a little alarmed. Ushijima stopped immediately above where Iwaizumi was still sat on the bench, and he smirked. Ushijima grabbed a fistful of Iwaizumi’s hair and tugged him off the bench. Iwaizumi swore, then went silent, and limp like a ragdoll.

 

Oh yes, this was going to work perfectly.

 

“You- you don’t tell me what to do.” Ushijima, not so gently, guided Iwaizumi to his knees, then yanked at his head so he was looking up. Iwaizumi’s eyes were already hazy, pupils blown from just this. “Do you hear me?”

 

Iwaizumi nodded.

 

“Good. Stay.” He commanded as he walked to the door to snap the lock closed. He unbuttoned his pants as he walked back, watching Iwaizumi watch him. Iwaizumi had dropped the belt almost instantly; it was haphazardly balancing between the floor and his leg. His mouth was open a little, eyes tracking Ushijima’s path back to him hungrily.

 

The first time they’d done this, so long ago, Ushijima had felt guilty, like Iwaizumi was scared to say no or something, but the more he got to know Iwaizumi and his facial expressions, the more he could see Iwaizumi was a whore for being dominated. He could still see it in the court sometimes, if Iwaizumi’s teammates hit him harder than he expected or grabbed him by the hair, Ushijima’s experienced eye watched Iwaizumi cloud over a little.

 

Ushijima stopped over him again. “I didn’t realize you were still a fucking slut for me, so I didn’t prepare and bring lube. For your sake, I’d suggest you do this well.” He went to pull his leather pants down, but paused. He ran a hand into Iwaizumi’s hair, not pulling this time, but just stroking his hand through the dark hair.

 

Iwaizumi frowned and shuffled a little on his knees, looking expectantly at Ushijima’s crotch, and the bulge beginning to form there. Ushijima pushed on the back of his head a bit to get him to start moving, but then pinned one of Iwaizumi’s hands to the floor with heavy boot. “And- no hands. Figure it out.”

 

Iwaizumi closed his eyes, not so far gone yet he had no humility; flushed a little pink, he leaned forward and nuzzled Ushijima’s leatherbound crotch with his nose, breathing his hot breath on it. Ushijima felt himself grow harder, and Iwaizumi’s tentative kitten-lick at the leather just made it worse. He couldn’t imagine the taste, but Iwaizumi wasn’t picky with what he put in his mouth, so he just kept at it, alternating between firm licks and just breathing on the fabric. Finally, he got tired of that, and tried to pull the leather down with his teeth.

 

Ushijima helped him a bit, pushing them down enough he could pull his cock out. Iwaizumi waited, a good boy for Ushijima when he tried. Then, with a gesture from Ushijima, he went at it. Trying to fit as much of Ushijima into his mouth as he could, then pulling back when he gagged a bit. Slower this time, he managed to get about halfway before pulling away and sucking just at the head, using his beautiful tongue on the underside.

 

“Fuck, did you miss me?” Ushijima laughed harshly, “I forgot how much of a cockslut you were, god, I could have used someone like you in Shiratorizawa. I’m sure Tendou and the others will enjoy you too.” Iwaizumi almost started glowing at the compliment. “Don’t let that get to your head, you’re useless for anything other than a fucktoy.” Ushijima growled.

 

Iwaizumi laved his tongue on Ushijima, sloppy and wet. He pulled back and fumbled with the hem of his shirt. Ushijima waited, curious to see what was happening. Iwaizumi pulled his gray tee-shirt over his head, exposing the chest and stomach that he knew Ushijima loved. Ushijima smirked, so this was going to be a game. Ushijima was already shirtless, so he knew he’d have to step up his dirty talk instead.

 

When Iwaizumi tried to go back to sucking him, he pushed him back. “That’s good enough,” He pointed at the bench, “balance yourself on this.” Iwaizumi hesitated, then moved, but the hesitation was enough for Ushijima. He followed Iwaizumi up and around the bench to where he could balance well enough on his elbows. Ushijima reached around Iwaizumi and undid his jeans, sliding them down and off his ass, he let them hang loosely around his knees as a silent insult. He kneaded Iwaizumi’s ass a bit, and the other man wiggled a bit.

 

Ushijima pulled back a bit and put as much force as he could into a sharp slap. Iwaizumi wailed, the very first noise he’d made since he last spoke. He buried his face in his hands but didn’t move otherwise. Ushijima chuckled, hitting him again in the same spot, but lighter. Iwaizumi whined, a long, high sound that reverberated in the empty room.

 

“Trying to act all tough on the court.” Ushijima growled, hitting him again, making sure he didn’t move at all. “Slapping my ass like you have any sort of power over me.” Again.

“But no one knows you’re a disgusting slut. You’re the one bent over a dirty bench about to be fucked by a man who you hate.” Again. Roughly, Ushijima pulled Iwaizumi’s boxers down, he popped two fingers into his mouth, getting them as wet as possible before pushing them into Iwaizumi’s entrance. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

 

Ushijima pushed another finger in, trying to get this stage over with. Iwaizumi was panting. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised,” Ushijima said conversationally, “That you can even be so tight after spending all your time fucking your way to the top.” Ushijima lined himself up. “Who got use of this ass while I was gone? Whose dick did you suck to get a good word in?”

 

Iwaizumi was making a low moaning noise, like a malfunctioning machine. “Or,” Ushijima lowered his voice to a whisper, “Did you just ride Oikawa’s wave to the top? Did you bounce on his cock like the good little whore you are to keep him from dropping you?”

 

At Iwaizumi’s keening noise of want, Ushijima pushed in. Setting a brutal pace, Ushijima focused purely on his own release. He didn’t give a fuck if Iwaizumi liked it or not, serves him right for how he’s been acting. Soon, Iwaizumi’s cries of pleasure or pain fell silent, biting on his wrist to keep from screaming out. Ushijima was close, fuck, it’d been too long. He’d be damned if he didn’t get a better reaction out of Iwaizumi, first, though.

 

“One day, I’m gonna tell the whole locker room what a slut you are. The whole team’s going to line up to fuck you stupid. You’re going to be the cumslut for everyone, all fucked out and pathetic. There’s not going to be anything you can do about it.” Ushijima rambled, Iwaizumi released his grip on his wrist to cry out as he came, fingers scrambling blindly on the wood bench for something to claw into.

 

Ushijima kept fucking him through it, coming almost immediately after. He let out a breath and pulled out. Iwaizumi sunk to the floor. Ushijima pulled up his pants and did them up, putting himself back together for a moment. When he refocused on Iwaizumi, the man was laying on his back, only his underwear pulled back up, both hands covering his face. It took Ushijima a moment to realize Iwaizumi was crying. Iwaizumi pulled his hands away from his face to crack a smile at Ushijima. Hot tear tracks streaking his face.

 

“Fuck, I missed you, man.” Iwaizumi sniffled, almost laughing. Ushijima sighed sharply.

 

“So did I,” Ushijima said softly, “I missed you too.”