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“Mm… It’d be nice to look like that.”

 

Issei lifts his gaze from the triple-tiered chocolate cheesecake he’s devouring (it’s the best around the block, and the café, fortunately, downstairs of their flat) and gives Tooru a look. He eyes the window, and it’s not difficult to tell whom Tooru means. There’s only one idiot walking without a jacket and a sleeveless shirt on mid- December.

 

A shrug. “You used to look like that.”

 

“Hey—That’s not fair!” Tooru whines. He grabs the small fork he used to help with the destruction of his own slice of cake and scrapes some from Issei. Gets a look but doesn’t care. He shows his tongue to his flat mate and swallows down the chocolate flavor. His stomach grumbles from pleasure. He can already feel the diabetes starting in his cells. “It’s hard to keep looking like that, okay? We’re not seventeen anymore.”

 

He sighs and brings his gaze to the gorgeous alpha male once more. The guy really looks nice. Big guns and a cocky smirk. He’s actually not so sure whether he wants to look like him or be underneath him. The corners of his lips twitch a little higher.

 

“Earth to Oikawa.”

 

It takes a moment before Tooru startles. “What?”

 

“I said that you could always look like that again.”

 

Please.”

 

“It’s true.” Issei lifts his thick brows and shrugs. Finishes the cake and gives subtle looks towards the counter filled with the most exquisite patisserie. “Just go to the gym.”

 

Tooru plops his chin down on the table. “Don’t feel like it, though…”

 

“Then don’t complain.”

 

“There’s all these things due next week…”

 

Issei takes a gulp from the water bottle they purchased (too expensive). “Do what you want. Don’t complain.”

 

“You’re supposed to be supportive, Mattsun. This isn’t supportive.”

 

“Sometimes you just whine lots.”

 

Tooru lets out a throaty noise of annoyance and gives him a stingy look. Slips his eyes close and thinks. He never looked like an outright sex god—who is he kidding, he looked amazing five years ago, all about flowing locks without a worry about midterm exams. Whatever the stupid math majors next-door say, astronomy is hard. Anyway, he hasn’t gone chubby, just horribly out of shape. He can barely run around the block, but for his defense, neither can Issei. Issei’s all about cheesecakes and fast metabolism. He’s… something else, he supposes.

 

When he looks up, Issei grins at him. It’s his highly irritating grin, too. Tooru’s eyes turn wide.

 

“What?”

 

“Just thought of a perfect Christmas gift for you.”

 

“If it’s one of those astronomy kits for kids again—“ He doesn’t even want to think about last Christmas (although he had enjoyed the kit quite a bit).

 

“No, no. Something better.” Issei’s grin is lazy as he gets up with a wallet. “You’ll love it.”

 

Tooru watches him buy another piece of cheesecake and idly wonders whether he should get seconds, too. Too bad he has big plans of buying pizza at the end of the week after he’s done with his essays and remains safely put. The budget of a college student doesn’t give the opportunity to gain too much weight, after all.

 

*

 

They have a thing for awful Christmas presents. It started three years ago when they decided to share a flat together and neither were staying over at their parents.

 

The first year Tooru gave Issei a jumper that sang Christmas songs when you pressed the right button. In return Issei handed an astronomy kit for children.

 

The second year Tooru gave Issei another jumped that sang Christmas songs (in different color). In return Issei slid an astronomy kit for children across the floor and made Tooru see red.

 

This year Tooru gives Issei a third jumper. It doesn’t sing Christmas songs but has a reindeer on its front. Reindeer whose head comes out of the shirt and can be squeezed. It’s perfect and makes Tooru grin. Issei grins, too. A messily wrapped present slides over the floor. Tooru’s fingers itch, and he opens it fast.

 

It’s the same damn astronomy kit for children. His face falls.

 

“Really?” There’s a whine in his tone. He flails towards the jumper in Issei’s lap. “I even went to the lengths of getting you a different one, and you just got me this!”

 

“Open it,” encourages Issei.

 

“Don’t want to,” Tooru grumbles. “I’ll see the stars better with my own shit than this plastic one.”

 

“Just open it.”

 

Tooru does and peeks inside. The kit is gone. His neatly shaped brows furrow. There are several questions in his mind but he asks none. He turns the box around instead. A single piece of paper drops on the floor. His insides tremble when he picks it up.

 

It’s a gift card to gym. One month with a personal trainer.

 

He gives his friend a stare.

 

Issei looks too pleased with himself. “Merry Christmas,” he says and bottoms up his share of the eggnog.

 

Shaking his head, Tooru takes another serving of the cheap Christmas pudding they got for themselves. Just to show some rebellion. Mouth full of it, he says, “I’m taking that jumper back.”

 

*

 

Tooru bangs his forehead against the desk and wakes up with a loud gasp. The room is dim with nothing but his reading lamp on, his glasses completely out of place. He tugs them off, chucks them on the bed and rubs his eyes. It’s four am and he should be finishing this essay, but he’s not really in the mood.

 

It’s only January the twelfth and he’s already slipping from his resolutions (work hard on school and eat less sugary things). He presses his temple to his palm and rests his eyes. Just five minutes, he tells himself. He’ll continue about Kepler’s laws of planetary motion after five minutes. He swallows hard and wipes his mouth clean from the drool. Behind the wall Issei snores loudly. Issei’s lucky because he doesn’t have a strict teacher who wants essays returned right after the holiday. Tooru flexes his toes and can only concentrate on the light ache right underneath his forehead.

 

A little bit after five minutes Tooru straightens himself up and clears his throat. Lifts up on his feet and struts around the small room to get his thoughts in motion (he wonders if he can apply Kepler’s law to that). He grabs his reading glasses and settles them on the bridge of his nose once more. The tips of his fingers he twirls around the messy hair and yanks gently. He should be asleep by now, otherwise he’ll get nasty wrinkles. Give it few years and he’s thirty and regretting these decisions he’s made now. He jumps few times up and down and only then settles back to the uncomfortable seat by the table.

 

He opens the correct page of the first book of the pile and continues to read about Kepler. He doesn’t really like Kepler now that he thinks about it because the guy is another reminder that astronomy doesn’t have a lot to do about stargazing and everything to do with physics and math. Maybe he’ll get himself a math tutor and then have an affair with that same tutor. A tired snicker escapes him. Yeah, that he’ll do. It takes a bit effort to concentrate back on the book. He reads about the laws that he should know by heart now.

 

Ten minutes later he wakes up with his cheek pressed against the page. His glasses are gone.

 

“Fuck,” he whispers softly below his breath. Groans loud and pushes his posture back up, rubs his shoulder blades intensely. He does a quick search of the glasses but they have disappeared. For the sake of evading having to work on the essay he crawls on the floor and tries to find them with the help of his phone’s flashlight. Ass swaying high in the air, he feels a bit stupid. At least he finds the glasses. He finds something else, too. Frowns and grabs the wrinkled paper from the floor. Tooru nudges the glasses in their places and reads with the help of the light.

 

A gift card to gym. One month with a personal trainer.

 

Right. Fuck.

 

It’s the first time he really looks at it properly. Turns it around and examines it. The gym isn’t far from their place, few blocks maybe. He’s walked pass it several times and just as many times has thought of going in, but it looks really fancy. Buff people inside, like they actually mean business. Tooru sits down on the floor on his ass and crosses his legs comfortably. Keeps staring at the card as if it would finish his essay for him. It doesn’t but stays in his mind even when he throws it back on the floor and tries to concentrate on the essay.

 

Fuck it. He picks the gift to the table and gives it a lopsided grin. He’ll give it a go. It’s only a month. He’ll probably suck at it because he doesn’t have appropriate clothes or shoes, but what’s the worst that can happen?

 

The worst that can and will happen, Tooru discovers after a good night’s sleep, is to have the hunkiest man as his personal trainer.

 

He wakes up with a smile on his face, ready to seize the day. Leaves Issei to sleep. He chooses eight am for all the right reasons because he’s sure there’s no one at the gym at this time. The moment he steps into the luxury of Seijou Gym, he realizes just how utterly wrong he is. The place is crowded, swarming with people who look like they’ve been torn straight from fitness magazines. The women walk around with sports bras, the guys in sleeveless shirts and shorts that are short. Tooru feels inadequate to put it mildly in his sweatpants and hugs his worn out sneakers against his chest. He’s thinking of going back home but accidentally makes eye contact with the cute guy behind the counter and has to move forward.

 

The Cute Counter Guy, seemingly also known as ‘Kageyama’ judging by the small plate attached to his chest, looks at him menacingly. Tooru wrinkles his nose and stares back at him. He looks like he’s totally at the wrong place, but why is the Cute Counter Guy glaring at him like that? Pretty blue eyes, though. Tooru tiptoes to see through the window behind the counter. A group class sweats on the floor. His heart thrums.

 

“How can I help you?” the guy with killer blue eyes asks.

 

It takes a moment for Tooru to return back from his thoughts. He tries to ignore the rather sexual grunts and groans that echo all the way to the reception. He tilts his head and fishes the wrinkled gift card from his pocket. “I have this,” he announces. Smiles a little to the guy who turns timid. “It’s still valid, right?”

 

The guy spends a sweet time checking it. Then nods. “You want to start using it now?”

 

“Yeah. I’m not carrying my sneakers around for fun, you know.”

 

The relatively cute but not-really-my-type guy puffs air to his cheeks and looks fishy. Gives him a careful look and types something on the computer. “Um… Iwaizumi-san has time available for a new client. Do you want to…?”

 

“Sure.” Tooru glances around. The vending machines full of energy drinks look intimidating. He swallows lightly and ignores the nagging in the back of his head. Spends a moment to look at the men that pass him and feels his knees buckle. If he’s lucky, he’ll get lucky. He smirks to the thought.

 

“…sir?”

 

“Yeah?” Reluctantly he turns to the receptionist.

 

“Fill the form, and you can go to the dressing room. Iwaizumi-san will pick you from here.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Tooru fills the form quickly and disappears within the gym. He passes through the machines that are big and tall and ready to crush his weak muscles, it seems. There are a lot of red faces and even more sweat, and the place reeks of testosterone. He puckers his lips and slips to the dressing room before anyone can give him a second look.

 

The room’s empty and he feels more comfortable that way. He’s quick to change shirts and struts in front of the mirror, gives himself a good look from head to toe as he crouches to tie his shoes. He doesn’t look too bad, just not like he belongs to a gym like this either. It takes a moment before he pulls up and sits on the edge of the bench. Curls his toes inside the shoes and wonders in the silence just what the hell he has gotten himself into. He can’t even run around the block and now he’s here, ready to meet a personal trainer? It’s the joke of the year, and it’s kind of funny. Tooru gives it a private chuckle. It dissolves into a sigh. He rubs his fingers to his knees clad in pants and questions whether he still has the time to disappear.

 

The most gorgeous hunk walks in without a warning. He’s all about arms, his guns are huge, sweet veins flexing gently on the surface of the skin as he walks confidently. Gray sleeveless and black shorts, he’s a sight. Tooru feels his mouth water. He stares. The hunk’s dark hair is mussed, in a really good way, in a just-got-fucked way, a bit of sweat gleaming on his forehead. His eyes are dark and fixed on papers that he holds. The muscles in his arms tighten. Tooru’s sure he’s in seventh heaven and doesn’t think about leaving anymore. Sights like these he’ll get to see if he remains and fuck, he’s so ready to stare at this beauty instead of doing stuff.

 

“You Oikawa?”

 

The hunk knows his name, and it startles Tooru. It startles him so that he jumps up on his feet and feels a fluster on his cheeks. “Yes,” he chokes out.

 

The guy gives him a brief look and nods. “The name’s Iwaizumi, I’ll be your personal trainer for the next month.”

 

Fuck me. Literally.

 

“Just have a seat, we’ll go in a bit.”

 

Tooru sinks back on the bench immediately. Why is he having a perfectly sculptured god as his personal trainer, was it part of the deal? With his lips parted he stares at Iwaizumi. He doesn’t know whether he wants to look like him or be fucked to the oblivion by him. Probably the latter. Most certainly the latter, because there’s a heat in his belly and he doesn’t know where exactly to stare. Iwaizumi’s arms are big, tight, and flawless. His shorts ride up and reveal the fine hair on his thighs. Tooru wants to drag his tongue across the skin. He shudders.

 

“Alright,” announces Iwaizumi and taps the tip of a pen against the papers resting on the robust thighs. They’re a bit parted and if his shorts were a little shorter and he’d have no underwear, Tooru would have the perfect visual for his crotch. “What do you want to achieve?”

 

“Uh.” Tooru spends a moment to think. Shrugs at the end. “I don’t know.”

 

“You gotta have an idea because you dragged your ass here, yeah?”

 

He likes the way Iwaizumi speaks. A bit rough around the edges but soft in the middle. It’s pure music. Better than the band he discovered last summer and can’t stop listening. It makes his knees jelly. “I guess I want to get fit?”

 

“That’s a good goal.” Iwaizumi gives a brief smile. It’s as good as heavens parting. “Do you want help with dietary stuff? We can craft you a meal plan.”

 

“Sure…”

 

“Good. Ass up, then, let’s go.”

 

Tooru frowns. “Where?”

 

“Where do you think? We’re not getting you fit by making you sit on that bench.”

 

Like an excited puppy Tooru follows Iwaizumi out of the room and into a quieter, more secluded side of the gym. The noises still echo but at least there are not people around to witness this beautifully amazing decision he has made in life. He gives Iwaizumi a dazzling smile, the one he uses when he flirts, but it’s not reciprocated. Tooru remains silent in the fear of blurting out some hideous pick-up line after five minutes in this Greek god’s company.

 

Gray really suits Iwaizumi, is all he can think about. His waist is lean and his calves muscular, and he carries himself with pride albeit he’s just that much shorter than him. He probably has amazing abs under the fabric. Tooru’s fingers itch to take a peek but he doesn’t.

 

In front a wall-length mirror Iwaizumi sets aside the papers and brings out a stopwatch.

 

“We’ll start by doing a small test, to see where you’re at right now so we can give you some realistic goals.”

 

“Alright.” Tooru grins.

 

“Pushups first, thirty seconds, as many as you can.”

 

Tooru sets down on the floor. He’s ready to impress Iwaizumi.

 

“Go.”

 

Ten minutes later after he’s done with everything that’s been asked, Iwaizumi doesn’t look that impressed. Tooru, lying on the floor and having troubles breathing, feels a sting in his abdomen and swears that even a good-looking hunk as a personal trainer isn’t really worth it. He presses his forehead to the floor and attempts to ignore the stinging in his lungs. Were few pushups and lunges always this hard?

 

Iwaizumi sits down beside him and scribbles on the paper. Pats him in the shoulder once.

 

“How bad is it?” whines Tooru.

 

“It’s not awful. Not great, either, but we’ll make you something good.” Iwaizumi spends a moment longer on the floor and then hops back on his feet with ease. “Let’s get you on the treadmill.”

 

“Already?”

 

“We’re not here to slack off.” Iwaizumi gives him a look. It’s equally annoying as the one Issei always gives him, but this one he can handle because it’s sort of hot at the same time.

 

Tooru finds himself walking on the treadmill and sweating like a small pig. From walking. He feels like he’s hit a new personal bottom and can’t shake the feeling away. From the corner of his eye he glances at Iwaizumi who leans against the machine and looks like every bit of an alpha male that he probably is. Tooru’s cock gives an interested but unfortunate twitch.

 

“You feeling motivated to do this?” Iwaizumi asks. He cocks his brows and Tooru just wants to shove his tongue down his throat and beg him to take him. That’d be exercise enough, right? Iwaizumi continues with his deep, throaty voice. “Motivation is important if you want to succeed.”

 

“I’m motivated.” Partially, at least. He nearly trips on his own feet and grabs support from the machine. He’s surprised that Iwaizumi doesn’t laugh.

 

“’S good. So was this a resolution of yours?”

 

“Christmas gift.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Tooru clears his throat. The sound rasps. He doesn’t even want to think about running on this thing. “I got the personal trainer times as a gift.”

 

“Well, you took the step to come here and that’s important.”

 

A Cupid’s arrow pierces through his heart in an instant. Tooru’s eyes widen as he looks at Iwaizumi and doesn’t even notice at first that the speed of the treadmill is increased. He grins silly and feels like a teenager in love again, but he can’t help it. Iwaizumi’s dreamy. Iwaizumi looks like a sex god, and he wants to have a ride on that. Maybe it’s because of his grin that Iwaizumi speeds the machine up again, but Tooru finds himself running and nearly stumbles over.

 

An hour and a half later he’s drenched in sweat and holds a crafted meal plan in his trembling fingers. He breathes hard and feels so unattractive, face red and lungs clutching, and looks at Iwaizumi standing in front of him. He rubs his forehead to the shoulder of his shirt but doesn’t feel any better. They part with goodbyes, a promise to meet two days later at the same time, and Iwaizumi breathes his name again in a way that makes Tooru’s insides quiver.

 

He walks home in cloud nine and forgets all about shower as he throws the gym bag on the hallway’s floor. His steps are heavy as hell but they feel oddly light. He clutches the piece of paper against his chest and smiles.

 

Issei gives him a look when he drags his bones to the kitchen.

 

“What’s with that face?”

 

“What face?” Tooru leans his back to the fridge. His smile twitches higher.

 

That. What did you do?”

 

“Was at the gym…”

 

“Really. And?”

 

Tooru chuckles. “I have a sex god as my personal trainer.”

 

Issei huffs.

 

“You should see him,” Tooru defends and attaches the meal plan securely on the fridge door. “He looks… Unf. He needs to fuck me asap.”

 

“That’s usually not the reason why people go to gym.”

 

“It’s not my reason or anything.”

 

Issei cocks his brows.

 

“Oh, Mattsun, shut up.” Tooru plops down on the chair beside Issei and plants his face on the table. Below his breath he breathes, “I’m so exhausted…”

 

Issei pats him in the back. “Just try to survive the month.”

 

*

 

“Come on! One more, you can—No slacking, one more!”

 

Tooru tries his best to yank the bar near his chest at the pull down whilst not concentrating to the pain on his shoulders. It’s an easier job when he focuses on the red of Iwaizumi’s face as he screams at him. He lets out a quiet whine, not even close to the roars some of the guys get out from their mouths.

 

His fingers sweat. He’s ready to let go.

 

Iwaizumi leans closer. “One more! One more, Oikawa, come on. One more, you can do it. You can do it!”

 

If Iwaizumi tells him that he can do it, hell, he can do it. Tooru squeezes his eyes shut and cringes. Lets out the most embarrassing squeak from his mouth as he tugs the bar back down. The moment its back up he lets go and bends forward. Whines more than he should but his shoulders are on fire. Probably dislocated, too.

 

He forgets the pain as soon as Iwaizumi pats his back and offers a shaker with disgusting drink in it to him with a prideful smile.

 

“A break for a minute, then we’ll finish off at the treadmill. Good job, Oikawa.”

 

Tooru smiles, too. It’s genuine albeit sweat-filled. He takes a gulp from the drink and wants to spit it out. Swallows anyway because it’s what Iwaizumi has told him to drink. Slowly he slips his eyes close and enjoys the minute of freedom he has.

 

Working out is definitely not his favorite thing to do (even right now he could be lying in bed sleeping and dreaming, or eating lazy breakfast with Issei), but it’s worth it as he flutters his eyes open. Iwaizumi stands in front of him, back at him, and the pair of shorts hugs his tight ass good. Tooru grins and tilts his head in an angle. It’s a sight he’s willing to suffer for. Iwaizumi flexes his arms in a stretch and takes a sip from his own drink with the same weirdly green hue, then looks at him over shoulder. Nods towards the empty line of treadmills by the window.

 

“You ready?”

 

“Yeah.” Tooru drags his tired bones forward and to the treadmill. He begins with an easy pace and turns into another smile when Iwaizumi jogs beside him. He likes these moments the best when they’re doing this together. It makes him feel somehow more accomplished. He clears his throat and attempts a flirt. “You look really good. All muscles and everything.”

 

“Thanks.” Iwaizumi doesn’t seem phased at all.

 

Puckering his lips, Tooru picks up the pace and jogs gently. “Have you—Have you been working out for long?”

 

Iwaizumi stares in front of him. Hands staying right beside his body as he works his body in the smooth motion. His muscles glisten from the droplets of sweat. “Two years, give or take.”

 

“Huh…” Tooru’s heart ticks, and his lungs are ready to fail. He slows down. “What made you… You know. Do this?”

 

“Don’t know. Felt like a good idea. I can shout to people.”

 

Tooru laughs. Even Iwaizumi cracks a smile.

 

From running they ease into walking. Iwaizumi throws him a towel. “You did good today. Good energy, loved it.”

 

Tooru’s heart skips a beat. He straightens his posture. “Thanks.”

 

“We’ll get those results out in a month, there’s no doubt about that.”

 

“I’m really looking forward to it.” And he is. He really is. He’s just worried that a month will go past too fast.

 

Iwaizumi hops off the treadmill and shuts down Tooru’s. “Get to the shower, I’ll see you in two days.”

 

With his sweetest voice Tooru purrs, “Have a good weekend.”

 

“Yeah, you too,” responds Iwaizumi but his mind seems to be already in other things.

 

Tooru huffs air from his cheeks. Gather his necessities and runs to the dressing room as fast as he can. He’s not sure whether it’s cruel mockery from the higher powers that he has a man like Iwaizumi as his personal trainer, but he’s not sure what to think about it. Tooru peeks to the showers, confirms it abandoned, and rushes to get naked. He’s not too fond of the communal ones but he doesn’t want to walk sweaty back home, either. He moves under the warm gush of shower and lets out a groan.

 

His muscles are going to be sore for good. He’s certain of it as he rubs shower gel over his body. Craning his neck, running his fingers through his hair, he thinks of Iwaizumi. Feels heat pooling in the pit of his belly and brushes his knuckles over his cock in an attempt to clean himself up. It’s more of tug-of-war than cleaning, truthfully, but there’s no one around.

 

There’s no around until Iwaizumi prances in without clothes on.

 

Tooru gasps for breath and ducks his head down, hopes that Iwaizumi doesn’t spot him but there are no walls around him to cover him. His dick throbs even harder than before. Iwaizumi whistles. Tooru can’t help it as he peeks towards him and feels his knees weaken. Iwaizumi stands right there, naked, and fuck—who knew his cock looked so good? Not exactly long but with a great girth, and Tooru can imagine the thick head sinking in him over and over again. The letter v that points towards the treasure is distinct and well-crafted, the pubic hair neet and—Shit. Their eyes meet. Tooru’s quick to look elsewhere.

 

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” Iwaizumi says, nonchalant as he takes the shower next to Tooru.

 

“I was… just taking my time. You know.” Tooru rubs shampoo in his hair. There’s a naked sex god right next to him without a wall in between, no one else around. He doesn’t know what to think. Or, rather, he knows what to not think, but his body’s not listening. Adrenaline thrums in his veins and stirs his cock.

 

He’s never been so afraid in his life to have a hard-on.

 

Defying everything, he still takes a look. Iwaizumi’s lifted his head and lets the water rain on his face. His body is lean and long and all about fine muscles that are so there. Tooru’s gaze slips constantly on the cock that hangs in peace. The sack looks heavy.

 

“What are you staring at?”

 

Tooru jumps. Nearly slips on the floor. He’s quick to stare in front of him. “Nothing,” he says. “Nothing, just… You really have a great body.”

 

“All thanks to hard work. Yours isn’t bad.”

 

He’s looking. Iwaizumi must be looking to say that. Tooru doesn’t have the guts to confirm whether that’s true or not. He swallows hard and slips out of the shower. Pulls a towel around his waist to cover whatever is going on between his legs. He has all the intentions of escaping before he can beg Iwaizumi to take him against the wall.

 

“Hey, Oikawa.”

 

Tooru freezes by the doorframe.

 

“Keep up the good work the next time and I’ll treat you with some disgustingly healthy smoothies. I know a place nearby, their stuff is good.”

 

A date. It’s… It’s a date, isn’t it? Kind of. Sort of. Tooru’s heart jumps to his throat. He puts on his best smile and looks at Iwaizumi. “You’re buying, though.”

 

Iwaizumi gives a barely-there smirk.

 

That night Tooru jerks off twice to the memory of that.

 

*

 

Tooru wears his finest clothes for the date a week later (Issei’s keen on telling that it’s technically not a date but Tooru refuses to listen to him). He arrives too early to the address Iwaizumi’s given to him and is more concerned whether his jeans are tight enough to impress Iwaizumi or not than his essay due tomorrow. He chews his bottom lip and checks the time for the tenth time. Peeks inside the small café and shifts weight from one foot to another.

 

When Iwaizumi turns around the corner wearing bomber jacket and ripped jeans, Tooru’s a goner.

 

“Did you wait for long?”

 

“No, just—just got here.” He’s too flustered and he knows it, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He takes a deep breath. Tells himself to calm down. He’s seduced several people in his life. He can do this. Too bad, when he looks up into Iwaizumi’s eyes, he feels fifteen all over again.

 

Iwaizumi nods to the door. “Let’s go.”

 

It’s a small place, no customers, just one guy wearing an apron and a lazy smile on his lips behind the counter. He greets Iwaizumi like they’re old friends, and his smile pulls up. Tooru gives him a polite nod.

 

“Two kale smoothies on the go,” says Iwaizumi.

 

“Two kale smoothies, coming. Cute guy you have there.”

 

Iwaizumi turns red around the ears. It’s the first Tooru sees it. “Shut up.”

 

“Just saying.”

 

Pleased with himself, Tooru works his fingers through his dark locks and makes sure they’re in the place where he wants them to be. He leans slightly against the counter and makes sure his smile is flirty. Slowly but steadily his confidence is growing and bubbling inside him.

 

“Are we going somewhere?” he asks.

 

“Just for a walk. I don’t think we should be stuck here with this guy longer than we need to.” Iwaizumi nods towards the guy by the blender.

 

The stranger smirks. “Hanamaki.”

 

“Oikawa,” Tooru introduces.

 

“Oh, I know. I know.”

 

“Shut up and make those smoothies,” slithers from Iwaizumi’s mouth.

 

Tooru looks at him. “A friend of yours?”

 

“You could say so.” Iwaizumi clears his throat. Pushes his bangs up. The motion makes the hem of his shirt rise. It’s enough to reveal his happy trail and chiseled abdomen. “You, uh, had a good day?”

 

“It’s better now that I’m here.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

“Two kale smoothies for the lovebirds,” Hanamaki announces.

 

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi grunts.

 

Hanamaki leans against the counter and gives Tooru a long look. “Just so you know, he sleeps with his socks on. Thought I’d let you know so it doesn’t come as a surprise when you’re—“

 

Iwaizumi drags Tooru out of the shop.

 

Slightly breathless, Tooru feels a grin on his lips. He nudges Iwaizumi’s shoulder with his. “What was that about?”

 

“Forget it.” Iwaizumi takes a slurp from the smoothie.

 

Curious, Tooru follows his example. He nearly chokes. “This tastes like grass!”

 

“It’s healthy.”

 

“I’d rather have those chocolate ones from burger joints, though.”

 

With slow steps they walk forward. Side by side.

 

“How is it going with the meal plan?” Iwaizumi asks. Brows arched higher.

 

“Good. I mean, I’m getting a bit tired of chicken already…” Tooru doesn’t tell that he’s slipped several times. That he’s had midnight snacks with Issei consisting of nuggets and fish fingers. They are things Iwaizumi doesn’t really need to know. “But it’s okay. I guess.”

 

Iwaizumi nods. The corners of his mouth tense. “I’m not going to lie, it’s difficult in the beginning but hard work and determination will get you far.”

 

“Yeah, I can’t wait to look like you, all buff and handsome.”

 

“Right.”

 

Tooru stops by a street corner. “How long of a walk are you planning to make us do?”

 

“Long enough to reach your place.”


“…what?”

 

“I mean.” Iwaizumi stares in front of him with widened eyes. Clears his throat and fills the brief silence with another slurp from the smoothie. He looks at Tooru with narrowed eyes. “I phrased that wrong. I’d like to see your place.”

 

Tooru frowns. “Sure. Sure.” It takes a moment for a smile to reach his lips. “It’s few blocks from here, there’s not much to see but let’s go.”

 

He discovers that few blocks is plenty of time to learn more about Iwaizumi who is two years older than him. His name is Hajime (Tooru really likes the name and decides to use it), he has been into sports as long as he remembers and his favorite one is volleyball. They talk a bit about that. They share the same favorite team. Hajime also has a nice smile that he displays once every ten minutes. Tooru’s not sure how he discovers it, but Hajime is also single. Gives him a bit of hope that this might be a date, after all. Hajime also likes the kale smoothie because he finishes his share when he offers.

 

Leading him to the right building and to the right floor, Tooru hopes that Issei isn’t home. The hallway is messy and he’s embarrassed about that, but he doesn’t utter out a single word about it as he silently makes Hajime follow him.

 

“You home already?” Issei’s voice echoes from the kitchen. “I told you, that thing with the sex god of yours wasn’t a—And I see that you’ve brought the sex god with you. Hello.” Issei offers a grin to the two of them by the kitchen doorway.

 

“This is my flat mate, Matsukawa, who’s going back to the kitchen now.” Tooru nods at him and gives a glare.

 

“Totally dragging my ass back there, sorry to bother.”

 

Tooru feels hot around the cheeks as he tugs Hajime along to his room. Closes the door behind him and wants to sink underground. He’ll have to scold Issei later about manners.

 

“A sex god, huh?” is the first thing that Hajime asks.

 

“He’s just talking bull.” Tooru’s nervous and licks his lower lip. There’s a tremor in his stomach and he doesn’t know how to control it. He presses his back to the door. “So, yeah. This is my room. Really small, I know.”

 

“Cozy.” Hajime takes few steps around and stops by the bookshelf. “You’re a student?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What’s your major?” Hajime sits down on the edge of the bed.

 

“Astronomy.” Tooru follows and plops down beside Hajime. Leaves a bit of space between them.

 

Hajime cocks his brows. “Never met anyone doing astronomy.”

 

“We’re a rare breed.”

 

“Yeah, I can tell.”

 

Tooru looks him in the eyes. They’re nice eyes, the color deep and somehow meaningful. He drops his gaze on the lips that are created in a pretty curve. He cocks his head and wonders what Hajime’s thinking. Probably not what he’s thinking, but a man can always dream. The silence is comfortable, yet the only thing missing are brawny men groaning and grunting in the background. Tooru still tastes kale in his mouth and it’s not too pleasant. He sucks in his lower lip.

 

“Hey,” he begins. “About that thing that your friend said—“

 

He doesn’t finish when Hajime kisses him.

 

It’s sudden and tastes of kale, but it’s amazing. It makes his head dizzy and his lips part. He recovers from the initial shock within a moment and wraps his arms tight around Hajime’s shoulders. Pulls him closer and doesn’t think when he slips a tongue in his mouth. He deepens the kiss and Hajime doesn’t pull back, and that’s the beauty of it. It’s hot and moist and everything Tooru has dreamed of in the sinful evenings when his mind is occupied with Hajime.

 

They don’t pull apart to yank clothes off. Tooru’s bed is messy and turns even messier. Hajime climbs over him and dips him down on his back, ruts his hips against his. Tooru grows hard beneath him and mewls. The sounds make Hajime chuckle, and even Tooru snorts. He presses his forehead to Hajime’s and works his fingers around the girth of his cock. It’s burning hot and thick and throbbing, and he strokes him good. Hajime soon mimics the motion and makes him unable to think. Tooru moans in his ear when the leaking slit is rubbed with a thumb. Clutches his thighs on Hajime’s sturdy hips and holds him close and steady.

 

It’s a quick fuck, hectic, unexpected. Tooru passes on a condom and lube, and within minutes he has a rock-hard cock inside him and doesn’t know what to think. Hajime fucks him into the bed and oblivion, and Tooru moans. He doesn’t care that Issei can probably hear (and is probably listening) as he works his hips to Hajime’s fast rhythm. They kiss in the midst, saliva dripping on their chins, and Tooru’s flushed all the way to his chest. He can’t keep himself together, really struggles. But he wraps his arms tighter around Hajime and yanks him closer, forces him to remain. Hajime grunts in his ear and sounds like he does when he lifts at the gym. The thick arms hold him down on the bed, and Tooru admires them.

 

He’s quick to unravel. He comes all over his stomach. Some of the cum finds its way on Hajime’s abdomen, too. Hajime comes with a moan, and it’s the prettiest thing Tooru has ever heard.

 

By the time he crawls in Hajime’s arms and rests a head on his chest, he’s still trying to figure out what happened. Hajime runs his fingertips over his naked spine and draws vague circles that are more like ovals. Tooru breathes into his neck and slips his eyes close. Kisses the root of his ear and makes Hajime shift beneath him.

 

“I don’t know if I should say something or not,” Tooru murmurs. Hides a smile to Hajime’s collarbone. “But I guess this is a success. No, yeah, this is a success.”

 

“We’re still going to train normally,” Hajime says.

 

“Figured.”

 

“Also…” Hajime takes a breath. “Hanamaki was right.”

 

Tooru looks up at him with a frown.

 

“I sleep with socks on.”

 

There’s laughter on Tooru’s lips.

 

*

 

“One more! Come on, one more!”

 

“I-I… can’t…” Tooru breathes heavier than should be legal. His arms are shaking. His whole core is shaking when he stares at the wooden floor of the gym and tries to ignore Hajime’s shouts by his ear. Whatever Hajime says, he can’t do another push up. Not a single one.

 

Hajime crouches by his side. His shorts ride up. He’s not wearing underwear today, Tooru notices and feels a tender ache in his loins.

 

“One more, Oikawa.” Hajime squeezes the stopwatch. “Come on, one more. One more, you can do it, I believe in you! One more!”

 

Fuck. Tooru pressed his palms flat on the floor and pushes. Shouts because it burns, and it’s not the good kind of burn that Hajime always advertises him. The burn is bad and it hurts and he would rather lie on the couch in the crook of Hajime’s arm like last night and not worry about a thing. He tenses his core. His shout turns into a scream, and he’s embarrassed. But he pushes himself up whilst Hajime still shouts at him, and then collapses on the floor face down.

 

“Time,” announces Hajime and pats him on the shoulder. “Nice going, Oikawa. We don’t give up before the time is up, do we?”

 

“No…” Tooru presses his cheek on the cold floor and can’t really open his eyes anymore. He’s been at this for two weeks but he doesn’t feel any better. There’s a taste of blood in his mouth and he really wants to get rid of it but can’t spit out here, and especially not beneath Hajime’s gaze. He gives him a silly smile, mostly tired, but Hajime remains stoic.

 

Hajime’s still a sight clad in the tight clothes although he’s seen him naked several times already. There’s something about the fabric hugging over his built muscles that makes Tooru feel light in the head. It takes a moment before he pushes to sit up over his heels. Looks at him and is more than ready to call it a day.

 

“How was it?” he still asks. His voice quivers below the breath. Nervous. Pretty anxious. He just wants to do well.

 

Hajime gives a tight-lipped smile. “Improved from the last time. We’re definitely getting there.”

 

Tooru sighs from relief. Presses his forehead back on the floor. Then squeals when his ass is swatted all of a sudden. He’s quick to get up and look at Hajime, bewildered to say the least. The guy looks aloof but the corners of his mouth twitch higher nonetheless. They share a look. Tooru’s certain that he’s in love.

 

“Get something to drink, and then we’ll finish at the treadmill.”

 

“Shower at your place?” Tooru asks, hopeful.

 

Hajime turns away. “Shower at my place,” he still agrees with a muffled tone.

 

In the treadmill Tooru has whole new energy than before.

 

Shower at Hajime’s place stands for two things, shower and fucking. Tooru really likes the latter. As soon as they reach the apartment he’s grown accustomed to in the last week (Hajime lives alone in a small place but the bed is big enough for two and that’s all that matters), they rip clothes out and orient to the shower. Limbs tangled and lips melting to each other. Shower and fucking rarely happens in that order, and Tooru finds himself pinned on the slippery wall by Hajime.

 

The kisses are heated. Their hands roam and explore every crook, and Tooru spends a long moment stroking Hajime’s arms and pectorals. It always makes him grumpy but Tooru likes it so he’s not stopping. He nudges his tongue in Hajime’s mouth and strokes him hard. It’s good exercise for his arm, he figures and keeps going until Hajime grunts and groans and pushes him harder against the wall, pins him down on the spot.

 

It’s hard and slippery and they’ve once already fallen down and Tooru hit his head and cried, but this time it’s better. They’re learning. Tooru tangles between the wall and the muscles that are wet and delicious under water. He moans like there’s no tomorrow when the swollen cockhead sinks in him, and he actually doesn’t even want to have a tomorrow when today is perfect. Works his fingers through the dark hair and yanks slightly. Makes Hajime complain and rut his hips harder into him. There’s a lot of friction and a lot of whining coming from Tooru’s mouth, but it’s a good thing Hajime shuts him up by kisses. Hajime also pushes deeper and curves against his stomach and makes him moan and go crazy. The tip of the dick reaches his depths and Tooru doesn’t want it to stop.

 

They actually shower afterwards. Scrub each other clean and give kisses here and there.

 

When his hair dries and Hajime insists on making smoothies, Tooru spreads himself on the couch. Buried in borrowed clothes that smell just like Hajime, he lifts the hem of the shirt and tenses his stomach. Lifts his chest up a little and then exclaims.

 

“Iwa-chan!” he shouts and looks at him over the couch. “Come take a look, you can totally see my abs!”

 

“You’re imagining it.”

 

“No, I’m serious! If I tense my stomach like—hnn, yeah, there’s my abs. Come here!”

 

Hajime comes (he’s always insistent of complaining how Tooru is too much of a work outside gym but he still always goes along). Stops behind the couch and stares down with narrowed eyes. Hopeful, Tooru tenses his stomach again. Looks up at him with a big grin on his face.

 

“See? Abs.”

 

“Yeah… Maybe. If I really, really stare at your stupid stomach for a long time.”

 

Tooru pouts. “You’re so mean.”

 

“And you’re annoying.”

 

“That’s not what you said in the shower just now,” Tooru reminds.

 

Hajime crosses his arms over his chest. “And what did I say?”

 

Oh, Oikawa, ah, fuck, you’re so tight, unf, yeah, baby, yeah, come for me baby,” Tooru mimics and smirks afterwards.

 

Without a warning Hajime grabs a pillow and shoves it to his face. “You’re making that up.”

 

“I totally am not!”

 

“You little shit.”

 

Tooru doesn’t have the time to defend when Hajime jumps on the couch with ease and yanks him in a tight headlock. He screams and giggles and tries to remember how to breathe but it’s really difficult when his heart is racing the way it is. It starts as wrestling and then transforms into kissing. Kissing turns into fondling, and Tooru finds himself sitting on the couch with Hajime on his knees in front of him. He throws his legs over the guy’s shoulder and lets him suck first and eat him out afterwards.

 

(Hajime’s really good with his mouth.)

 

They spent the evening drinking smoothies and watching stupid television shows in each other’s arms.

 

*

 

The month’s up and Tooru lies alone on Hajime’s bed and stares up at the ceiling. He feels sort of hollow. He reached his goals they set out for him, but it’s somehow not enough. He rolls on his side and snuggles under the warm blankets. Can’t even remember how his own bed feels like anymore. He’s practically living here already. Brought his toothbrush with him and Hajime gave him a key and told him to come whenever he wants.

 

After that he didn’t really leave anymore.

 

It’s nine thirty and Hajime’s at the gym and there’s probably someone else standing there with gaudy sweatpants and worn out sneakers hoping to get at least a bit fit. Tooru throws himself on the other side and huffs. He bought new sneakers and new clothes and it doesn’t make him look like Hajime but none of it really matters anymore. His month is up and he’s still unsatisfied.

 

He finally gets up at ten and pulls his boyfriend’s clothes on (they’re always more comfortable than his own). There’s smoothie for breakfast and Tooru bottoms it down although it tastes horrible. He struts around the place, irritation in his bones. It feels weird to be alone. Like he shouldn’t really be here. His heart gives lazy thuds. He rises up to his toes and feels a burn in his calves. It’s a good kind of burn. One that makes him crave for more.

 

It’s a decision made within a second, and he grabs his training clothes and the new sneakers and rushes out of the place. Runs around the block and another and reaches Seijou Gym faster than he thought he would. He stands in front of the reception and catches up with his breath. Stands tall and stares Kageyama dead in the eyes. A grin parts his lips. He takes a step. Then another, because that’s how it works. Hajime taught him that. One step at a time.

 

“Hey.” Hajime is moving from one room to another and stops near the reception. Looks at Tooru with a frown on his face. “What are you doing here? Thought you’d be sleeping long now that you have the chance to.”

 

Tooru smirks. “I’m getting a membership.” He pauses. “Shower at your place afterwards?”

 

There’s a grin on Hajime’s mouth that he’s never seen before but it’s pretty and smug and sexy and seemingly ready to pin him against the slippery wall again. “Shower at my place,” he agrees and disappears to the gym.


Tooru joins him the moment later. They run together one step at a time.