Five paid meals, three weeks of cleaning the gym alone, and keeping quiet for eight study sessions later, and the team agreed to Oikawa’s idea for the cultural festival.
A maid cafe.
Oikawa has suggested it for a couple of reasons: 1) The basketball team already called dibs on a butler cafe, 2) They all didn’t mind wearing skirts, and 3) they're all attractive people, they’re popular, if they do something like this, they’ll get a lot of attention, and the more attention, the more funds for the club.
It was pretty easy to decide who would be cooking. Matsukawa had two little siblings, so they were always at the stove for them, Kindaichi’s parents worked 9-5, so he cooked for his brother and him every day, and Oikawa wasn’t the best cook, but he could make bomb coffee and tea.
Halfway through preparations, the dresses came.
The boys took their dresses, walking behind separate curtains to change.
Kunimi’s dress was the longest, the black skirt reaching down to his ankles. His white socks reached to the top of his calves with frilly tops, and his buckle shoes were brown and flats. The black sleeves were puffy at the shoulders, going down to his fingers with a hole for the thumb. The neck was high, frilly as well.
The dresses for the second years were shorter, going to the knees, and were a lot more traditional; a white dress with puffy shoulder-sleeves and frilly ends, with a black overtop. An apron that wrapped around the waist, a slightly high collar, and a ribbon to match Seijoh’s colors. Their buckle shoes were black with no heel, and their socks were the same as Kunimi’s.
Iwaizumi and Hanamaki’s dresses were the shortest. A white dress with long sleeves - a black ribbon on each side tied just above their wrists - and a skirt that reached their mid-thigh, pushed out by a petticoat. The apron was a black corset combination with white frills. The collar ended just above the collarbones, and there was a window where cleavage would be. While the black buckle shoes were like the others, their socks were black thigh-highs, held by lace white garters.
“Shittykawa, why is it so short?!” Iwaizumi snapped, face aflame. Hanamaki was chill with the get-up. He was looking at himself in a nearby mirror, making faces at himself, and Matsukawa was watching, clearly having a crisis.
Oikawa, who was helping Kyoutani with the small buckle of his shoes, shrugged. “Variety is important, Iwa-chan.”
“Variety, my ass! You’re just a pervert!”
Iwaizumi kicked Oikawa’s back. He quickly dropped his leg when he realized Kyoutani could see up his skirt. Fortunately, his underclassman quickly snapped his head to look at Yahaba, who was taking pictures with Watari.
Hanamaki unhelpfully pointed out, “You can see our boxers in these.”
“I am not wearing girls’ underwear!” Iwaizumi instantly snapped. He tried to pull the skirt down, only for it to snap back into place.
Matsukawa chuckled. “Then don’t wear any underwear.”
Blushing even harder, Iwaizumi whined, “That’s even worse!”
Oikawa approached from behind. He rested his hands on Iwaizumi’s hips, ducking down slightly to whisper into his ear, “But, Princess, you already own so many kinds of panties. I’m sure you could find something.”
It’s a mystery how Iwaizumi didn’t get blood on his dress when he punched Oikawa.
Oikawa’s prediction had been correct - they were a hit.
Girls came to see Oikawa but also talk with the boys about the dresses, guys came for the food or to get a look (some to laugh, others to check them out), and student’s from other schools just wanted to see what was up.
To make sure no one got in trouble for breaking phones, Oikawa collected anything with a camera at the door. He easily convinced people with his charming smile or his threatening words.
Iwaizumi had expected to have a bad time. He thought everyone would laugh at them, that he would spend the entire time adjusting his skirt. He was proven wrong when he was constantly stopped by girls who would usually hand him love letters complimented him on his dress.
A couple of guys from different schools decided to shoot their shot. As much as Iwaizumi was flattered - seriously, he’d never been asked out more - but he was quick to tell them he had a boyfriend.
Thank god for Hanamaki and Kunimi, because if Oikawa found out that people were hitting on Iwaizumi, the brunet would never get back in the kitchen.
Even Kyoutani was having some fun. Some of Karasuno decided to drop by for a visit, and that included their pinch server with acne. Kyoutani had been subtly crushing on the first year for a while, so he was quick to call dibs on serving their table.
The wing spiker had a new pep in his step when Karasuno left, and he had a new number in his phone.
“Hey, we’ll go on break in ten minutes! Close the doors and come take these orders!” Matsukawa called from the makeshift kitchen.
Yahaba jogged over, apologizing to the people in line as he closed the classroom door. Iwaizumi turned to Hanamaki, “I’ll grab the dishes, you handle those orders.” Hanamaki gave him an okay then joined Watari, Yahaba, and Kyoutani in the back to get orders. Kunimi was still handing out his other orders.
Iwaizumi tucked his metal tray under his arm, looking around for plates to grab. As he was scanning, Iwaizumi noticed a member of the soccer team knocking over his fork.
“Let me,” Iwaizumi said. He walked over and bent over to grab the fork. Before he could even get his fingers around the utensil, however, there was a smack on Iwaizumi’s ass. He shot up instantly, discarding the fork to hold his backside. “Did you just slap my ass?” He asked, disgusted by the smirk on the other boy’s face.
“Oh, come on,” he laughed, “dressed like that, you’re practically asking for it.”
Iwaizumi opened and closed his mouth, too shocked to come up with a snarky remark. The boy took that as his sign to stand up. He grabbed Iwaizumi by the waist.
“Oi, let me - “
Iwaizumi stumbled back. He was caught by one arm and the boy fell to the ground. He held his face, which was now covered in blood. Oikawa held Iwaizumi with one arm, pulling him up so he could hold him close, and the other held a metal tray that was now dented.
The boy pulled his hand back, spitting out a tooth. “Hey! Are you crazy?!”
“Maybe,” Oikawa said coldly, “but you’re a pig, so it evens out.” Oikawa dropped the tray with a loud clatter. “Get out of here, and consider yourself lucky if I don’t kill you the second I see you.”
The boy scampered away like a rat.
It was easy to rush everyone else out after that, and Oikawa left the cleaning up to everyone else as he led Iwaizumi out of the classroom for some air. Iwaizumi followed, wrapping his arm around Oikawa, which hadn’t left his waist since he pulled him away from that asshole.
“That was my fault,” Oikawa suddenly said, “I should’ve gotten all long dresses, I’m sorry.” He pulled Iwaizumi into the small space below the stairs, resting his face on the ace’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby.”
Iwaizumi sighed. He hugged Oikawa around the neck. “It’s not your fault, Tooru. It’s that asshole’s fault.” Oikawa groaned, nuzzling Iwaizumi’s shoulder, unconvinced. “If it helps at all . . . I like the dress.”
Quickly, Oikawa lifted his head and stared at Iwaizumi. “You...do?”
Iwaizumi nodded, face flushed. “I mean, you know I own a lot of skirts, and I like wearing them. Besides - “ Iwaizumi smirked. He cupped Oikawa’s half-hard cock. “I like what it does to you.”
Oikawa looked down. “I-I-I - how long - when did I - have I been like this the entire time?”
“You didn’t notice?” Iwaizumi palmed Oikawa, walking them deeper into the dark until Oikawa was pressed against the wall. “You’ve been half-mast since we left the classroom. I didn’t know you had a kink for rescuing me.”
“I - no - that’s - I didn’t know I was hard.”
“Too distracted by your anger?”
Oikawa sighed. “Yeah. I was...I was so angry, baby.”
Iwaizumi dropped to his knees. He nuzzled Oikawa’s now fully erect dick. “Mhm. Everyone knows how much you hate it when people touch me.”
“No, it’s not just that.” Oikawa stroked Iwaizumi’s forehead. “Yes, I was angry because he was touching you, but it’s also because…”
“I’ve never seen you that scared of someone.”
Iwaizumi stopped his teasing. He looked up at Oikawa - he was sure that if Oikawa had his phone, and the circumstances were different, he would’ve taken a photo of Iwaizumi, eyes wide, on his knees, dressed like a maid.
“I - I looked scared?”
“Absolutely mortified.” Oikawa brought his hand to his eyes, and Iwaizumi realized he was starting to cry. He stumbled to his feet before grabbing Oikawa’s wrist. “God, you can protect yourself, and I know that, but - but when you look like that , I can’t help it.”
Iwaizumi finally managed to pry Oikawa’s hand away from his eyes. He kissed the tears away, his heart tearing at the salty taste on his tongue. “Tooru, it’s okay. If-if I saw you looking scared - because of another person, no less - I would do the exact same thing.”
Oikawa inhaled shakily. “I can’t believe you were about to give me a blowjob and I started crying.”
Iwaizumi laughed. “Didn’t realize I was that bad.”
“Shut up,” Oikawa held Iwaizumi's face and kissed him softly. “You give the best blowjobs.”
Iwaizumi snorted. “You have no one to compare it to.”
Iwaizumi laughed once more before kissing Oikawa. It was soft for a bit before getting heated, turning from soft pecks to practically mouthing at one another. Hands that were once holding his face dropped to his ass, groping it and teasing his hole over his dress and underwear.
Oikawa turned them around so Iwaizumi was the one against the wall. The setter moved down to pepper kisses on Iwaizumi’s sensitive neck. After leaving kisses and hickeys, Oikawa buried his face in the window of exposed chest. Before Iwaizumi could laugh, Oikawa pinched his nipples over the dress.
Iwaizumi slapped his hands over his mouth. His moans were muffled but still fairly loud. His nipples had always been his most sensitive part of himself. Oikawa rolled and pinched his nipples until they were hard and plump, clear bumps in the thin fabric of his dress.
Oikawa dropped down onto his knees. He lifted one of Iwaizumi’s legs, balancing his boyfriend before putting it over his shoulder. Iwaizumi used one hand to lift his skirt and the other to stroke Oikawa’s soft hair.
“Can I eat you out?”
Iwaizumi threw his head back and groaned. “ Yes .”
Oikawa hummed, moving closer to nuzzle Iwaizumi’s cock, which was staining the front of white lace panties. Later, Oikawa would jokingly scold Iwaizumi for ruining Oikawa’s favorite pair of underwear.
“Yes, what, baby?”
Iwaizumi opened his mouth but closed it as an idea came to mind. He smirked, dropping his head while lifting his skirt higher to look at Oikawa. “Yes, Master .”
Within seconds, Iwaizumi’s panties were removed, hanging from his lifted food, and Oikawa was sucking and lapping at his tight hole.
Iwaizumi bit hard into the heel of his palm, whimpering into the skin while pushing down on Oikawa’s face. His thighs clenched from having to support his weight on one leg, but he was too distracted by the pleasure to care about the risk of toppling over.
After a few more teasing sucks and licks, Oikawa pushed his tongue through the ring of muscle. Iwaizumi choked on his loud moan. Usually, he would fill the room with moans and begs, but now, standing underneath the stairs and surrounded by people, Iwaizumi was left to bite into his palm hard enough to mark it.
Oikawa pulled off with a lewd pop. He kissed and nibbled Iwaizumi’s ass. “I love eating you out, Princess, you always taste so good.” He returned to lapping at Iwaizumi’s clenching hole. “What I’d give to have you begging.”
Iwaizumi whimpered. He forced his eyes open to watch Oikawa’s head hidden under the frilly skirt. Once Oikawa’s tongue was back inside him, Iwaizumi slowly slid down until he was supporting himself with his back on the wall, Oikawa’s face completely pressed against his ass and balls.
His flexibility was truly a gift.
Oikawa seemed to think the same because the teasing thrusts of his tongue turned into complete pushes, sucking and spinning his tongue to feel his walls. Iwaizumi gasped, pressing his chin against his chest so he could watch Oikawa.
He nibbled his lip, considering the risks of lifting his skirt. Despite the cons of getting caught, Iwaizumi flipped his skirt up, holding it all the way up so he could see Oikawa tongue-fucking him, as well as the large bulge in his pants.
“Hold - hold the back of my knee.”
Oikawa instantly did as instructed. He used his full strength to hold Iwaizumi’s leg as the shorter one lifted his leg. He reached down, pressing the top half of his foot onto Oikawa’s erection. The push of his leg made him tilt just the slightest bit, and Iwaizumi had to move his hand away from his mouth to press it against the wall as support.
“I-I can’t - I won’t last any longer,” Iwaizumi whispered, pushing as hard onto Oikawa’s tongue as much as he could.
Oikawa hummed, and that simple action was enough to make Iwaizumi’s cum. Thanks to him lifting his skirt, his cum didn’t hit the skirt, but thanks to the angle of his legs, the copious amounts of semen fell on the ground.
Iwaizumi couldn’t even feel guilty about it. Oikawa pulled away, groaning louder than Iwaizumi would’ve liked. He watched the setter shake, squeezing his eyes shut with a slack jaw.
“Did you just - “
Once they cleaned the floor, found a clean pair of boxers for Oikawa, and straightened themselves up, the couple came back to the cafe, holding hands with shy smiles.
“Did you get anything on the dress?” Kyoutani asked.
He nodded. “Good. The warranty of these dresses wouldn’t cover cum stains.”