You Belong With Me: Chapter 4
Kise Ryouta
Iwaizumi befriends a basketball player and ends up roleplaying on the first "date."
Kise/Iwaizumi, some past Miyuki/Iwaizumi, and endgame Oikawa/Iwaizumi.
The University of Tsukuba requires every undergraduate student to fulfill an English language requirement. Since nobody from the Registrar's Office felt like it was important last year to inform Iwaizumi of this fact, he scrambles to find an open language class for the new semester. Which is why he's sitting here as a second-year for his first day of English 201 (thankfully, he managed to place out of 101), waiting for the professor and apparently half the class to arrive.
It's six minutes past the stated starting time when a yellow-haired guy and a swarm of female students on his heels run into the auditorium.
"Lucky!" the guy says cheerfully, "the professor hasn't shown up!" To the envy of most of the males in the room, he takes a seat and is immediately surrounded by cooing girls.
Iwaizumi can hear the petty remarks being muttered:
"That's Kise Ryouta, the new small forward of the basketball team."
"I heard he used to be part of the Generation of Miracles. Bunch of assholes."
"He models for Zunon Boy; my ex-girlfriend was obsessed with him."
"How did he even get into this class?"
Then, somebody has the courage (?) to voice a comment within the hearing range of the entire auditorium: "Shallow pretty boys don't deserve to be in intermediate-level classes. Who'd you have to bat your lashes at in the Registrar's Office to get into this class?"
Kise's fanclub immediately screeches in unison something to the effect of "How dare you insult the beautiful Kise-sama," etcetera, etcetera.
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. This is like high school volleyball practices with Oikawa all over again, except now he can't even rely on telling them that practices are closed to non-members.
He turns around - only to notice that the smile pasted on 'Kise-sama's' face is as brittle as glass. Unwillingly, Iwaizumi feels a bolt of sympathy. He thinks of Oikawa, who also has his fair share of critics along with his supplicants. During the few instances in high school when Iwaizumi didn't manage to timely circumvent the Oikawa-haters, Oikawa would verbally tear them apart with a gleeful smile. Gleeful, yet far from sincere.
But that's not why he's doing this, Iwaizumi assures himself. He's only doing this because the professor is bound to show up any minute now, and these underclassmen are being entirely too loud.
Yes, that's the only reason Iwaizumi tosses out a stern, "Seems kind of shallow to judge somebody only by their face and reputation, don't you think? How about you let the guy prove whether he deserves to be here before jumping down his throat?"
The auditorium falls silent. The boy who made the jibe flushes an ugly red.
He spits, "Why the hell are you taking his side-" when their teacher finally arrives. The professor, who looks to be a Westerner in his early sixties, mops off his sweat with a handkerchief.
He says in English, "Oh, hello! Very sorry for the delay. Traffic, you know! Let's begin the roll call."
And that's the end of that, Iwaizumi assumes, until he's approached at the end of the class while packing up his stuff.
"Hey! Er, you! Iwaizumi Hajime, was it?"
He looks up to find a smiling Kise Ryouta, surprisingly not encircled by his fanbase.
"Yup," Iwaizumi says.
"Hey, you look a lot like my old captain! Would you happen to know a Kasamatsu Yukio?"
"Nope," Iwaizumi says, and leaves.
Only - the next class, the model corners him again. This time, Iwaizumi notices that Kise tells his fans to go on first, resisting their pouts and protests.
He bounds up like an energetic golden retriever. "Hi! Sorry, I don't think I introduced myself properly last time. I'm Kise Ryouta!"
Iwaizumi inches away. "Okay? I already told you that I don't know your captain-guy."
"I didn't mean to start off with that! It's just, your resemblance is really strong. Though his eyebrows are thicker than yours and your eyes slant upwards instead..." Kise trails off before shaking himself. "Anyway! I wanted to thank you for what you did last class. I'll treat you to something - name what you want."
Iwaizumi cuts him off. "There's no need for that; I didn't do it for you." He offers Kise a polite if grudging "goodbye" before heading to his next class.
He hopes this is the end, because Iwaizumi does not need a second Oikawa Tooru in his life.
But of course, it isn't over. Kise starts coming early (or on time, really, since the professor is always late), so that he has five minutes before class and five minutes after class to badger Iwaizumi. After two weeks of this, for three days a week, he still isn't showing any signs of waning.
The professor ends with a, "Don't forget, we have our first quiz next week. I would suggest that you each find a study partner with whom to practice your idioms!"
Predictably, Kise is immediately mobbed by willing potential study partners. The girls seem pretty determined, so the pretty boy probably isn't going to be able to put off the hordes today.
Which means Iwaizumi can escape without being accosted.
Which is precisely why he...doesn't?
"Kise," Iwaizumi calls out gruffly, "...do you want to study together?"
To the great disappointment of his fans, a beaming Kise accepts. The grumbling girls trickle out of the auditorium, some of them shooting daggers out of their eyes at Iwaizumi before they exit. (Sucks for them - Iwaizumi has a lot of experience ignoring dejected fangirls.)
Kise says excitedly, "One of the girls showed me a great study room; we should work there tomorrow!"
"Which building is it in?" Iwaizumi asks. He typically does his studying alone in the library or at his apartment, so he's not too familiar with study spots on campus despite being a second year.
Kise taps a finger on his chin. "Um, the big gray one?"
"That describes 60% of the buildings on campus," Iwaizumi says dryly. "What's the address?"
"Um...." Kise fidgets.
Iwaizumi is starting to regret his offer to study together. "Seriously?"
"I know how to get there from the basketball courts," Kise says defensively. Then, he brightens. "Oh, I got it! You should just meet me after practice, and I can take us there."
So much regret.
"Fine."
On Thursday, he gets to the Central Gymnasium ten minutes early. By the sounds of thudding and squeaking gym shoes, it seems that boy's basketball team practice hasn't ended yet. Iwaizumi leans on the balcony, surveying the courts below. He sees Kise, opens his mouth to call out, and then - pauses.
The bubbly blond looks serious for once. Despite his lack of experience with the sport, Iwaizumi can tell that Kise is really, really good at playing basketball. Before he knows it, he's been watching the team play for fifteen minutes.
Eventually, Kise notices him. To the frustration of his teammates, he immediately lets the ball roll away in order to wave up at Iwaizumi.
"Iwaizumicchi, you came! I'm so glad! I'll be right with you in a minute."
'Iwaizumicchi' scrunches his nose. "What did you just call me?!"
By the time they arrive at the study spot, Iwaizumi still hasn't convinced Kise to stop referring to him by that stupid diminutive.
"I-wa-zu-mi," he enunciates.
"I-wa-zu-micchi," Kise repeats.
Iwaizumi figures this is a lost cause. "Let's just start studying. Tough love."
"What you're giving me right now!" Kise replies without missing a beat.
Iwaizumi clicks his tongue in an annoyance. "Tch. Answer seriously!"
They've gone through a dozen idiomatic expressions when Iwaizumi gets to "Close but no cigar."
Kise squints in concentration. "It means...like, almost. But not quite."
Iwaizumi doesn't tell him if he got the correct answer because at that moment he spots Miyuki Kazuya walking into the lounge. By the look of shock on his face, Miyuki has spotted him as well.
Iwaizumi figures he has about ten seconds until his ex-boyfriend recovers and runs away, so he gets up in one swift motion. He barely remembers to toss a "sorry" to Kise, and then he books it to an increasingly hunted-looking Miyuki.
Miyuki greets him politely if stiffly. "Haji - Iwaizumi. I didn't know you liked to study here."
"You can still call me Hajime if I can still call you Kazuya," Iwaizumi says. At Miyuki's small nod, he continues, "I don't. I usually study at the apartment, but I've got a study date today with that guy over there."
"Date?" Miyuki repeats curiously.
Iwaizumi shakes his head. "It's not like that."
There's an awkward pause before both of them try to speak at once.
"I can-"
"Do you-"
Iwaizumi says, "Go ahead."
"I can find another spot," Miyuki offers. "You were here first."
"I think the lounge is big enough for the two of us," Iwaizumi says wryly. He pauses. "Or is it three?"
Miyuki is visibly at a loss for words, unusual for such a glib person. "No, Eijun isn't with me today. I didn't want to-"
Iwaizumi takes pity on him. "Come over to the apartment next weekend. Bring Sawamura. Bokuto wants to play President, and we need five players."
"Hajime..."
He waves his hand impatiently. "Nope, we're doing this. You are not allowed to be all awkward and apologetic at me. Unless you want a reminder of which one of us dumped your sorry ass."
Miyuki folds, as Iwaizumi thought he might. "Alright, I'll ask him."
Then because Miyuki never gives in gracefully, he adds, "I think I will find another study spot. Clearly the standards here have dropped if they're letting pineapple heads like you in."
And there's the wicked smirk that he has missed.
Iwaizumi huffs. "For the last time, my hair is not that spiky!"
The smirk softens into a small but sincere smile. "Later, Hajime."
"See you, Kazuya."
Iwaizumi can feel half-smile of his own on his face as he slides back in his seat.
At Kise's curious expression, he explains, "That's Miyuki Kazuya, from the boy's baseball team. We broke up a few weeks ago."
"Are you getting back together?"
"Huh?" he says. "No. Definitely not. Kazuya has a new boyfriend."
"How long were you two together?"
"Half a year or so," he answers.
What is with all these questions? Is Iwaizumi's love life that interesting to people?
Kise frowns. "Seems like he's moving on awfully quick."
Oh. Kise is concerned about his feelings. That's nice of him - if unnecessary.
"Sawamura is an old classmate of his. He's not a bad kid. The two of them have been circling around each other since high school, but Kazuya never would have done anything without a push."
"And...you gave him that push."
"Well, yeah."
Kise nods slowly. "You really are a good person, Iwaizumicchi."
Iwaizumi scowls to hide his embarrassment. "Enough of that. Let's get back to the list."
Obligingly, Kise reads, "Second wind."
"Restored strength, allowing someone to continue on."
"Bingo! You got it."
He can't help but feel that Kise's gaze is oddly appraising. Iwaizumi never catches him at it though, and by the end of the session he has grown used to the prickle across the nape of the neck.
It is...warm.
"It's outrageous!" Oikawa shrieks, shoving a magazine into Ushijima's face.
Ushijima is nearly cross-eyed, but he makes a valiant attempt to read aloud the cover nonetheless. "'Six Dreamy Makeup Looks For Spring'...?"
"Not that - the man on the cover!" Oikawa shifts the magazine to a more reasonable distance from his face.
Ushijima corrects himself, "'Kise Ryouta: Japan's Hottest Basketball Player and Model Enrolls at Tsukuba.'"
Oikawa throws the magazine to the bench in disgust. "Exactly. Kise Ryouta, of all people! Iwa-chan is replacing me with a younger, prettier, and taller version!"
"I understand. This is about your romantic attachment to Iwaizumi Hajime then?" Ushijima inquires.
Oikawa jolts. "R-romantic attachment? Where did you get that - that crazy idea from?"
"It seemed quite obvious to me that he was the reason you refused to leave Aoba Johsai," he says.
When Oikawa remains silent in shock, Ushijima elaborates, "I believed you would be logical enough to choose Shiratorizawa regardless of your feelings for Iwaizumi, but Shirabu has since informed me that the irrational emotion of 'love' often supersedes such calculations of the future. In that respect, I apologize for my persistence in recruiting you during high school."
Oikawa mutters, "...I can't believe the 'simple farmer' understood that before me."
Ushijima presumes the aside was meant to be unheard and ignores it. "Has Iwaizumi informed you that he is now romantically linked to Kise Ryouta?"
"No, but not for lack of trying on Kise's part. They went on a study date." He shakes his fist in outrage. "Date!"
"I understand that the phrase 'study date' is a neutral term and may be between people who are only classmates." Ushijima cocks his head to the side. "Furthermore, does it not take two people to be in a romantic relationship? Even if you have correctly assessed the nature of Kise's intentions, Iwaizumi does not seem to be similarly amenable. Therefore, they are not dating."
"Not yet they aren't," Oikawa says ominously.
Kise turns out to be more than decent at English. (Apparently, he gets practice chatting up foreign models during photo shoots.) Iwaizumi is probably better with the mechanics and the grammar, but considering that he hasn't studied the language for a year, the two of them are basically at the same level.
Their studying pays off, and they both do well on the first quiz. Add the fact that Kise is basically ostracized by one half of the class and worshiped by the other half, stir in Iwaizumi's immunity to capricious pretty boys and his utter indifference to what people think about him, top with Kise's bizarre attachment to him, and the result is that Kise and Iwaizumi become permanent English conversational partners.
Iwaizumi hesitates to escalate beyond that. Befriending Kise comes with obvious baggage - baggage garnished with sequins and neon lights - and he already has one high-maintenance pretty boy in his life.
Halfway into the semester, and they have yet to meet anywhere outside of campus despite Kise's cajoling. That changes the weekend before their midterm.
Iwaizumi sits at his desk, prepared to review. He opens his notebook. It takes him a second to process the sight. He shuts the notebook.
He texts Kise. i think we switched books by accident.
The reply comes quickly. oh no! but you can use my notes - i don't mind using yours. (∩_∩)
Easy enough for him to say. Iwaizumi writes his notes in neat, black inked columns. Kise scrawls across the page in seven different colors, some of them involving glitter. And are those puffy cat stickers? Oh, hell no.
He picks up his phone again. can i come get them? are you on campus right now?
It takes longer to get a response this time. i'm on a shoot right now, and they won't let me leave the building until we finish. it's not that far from the school, i can text you the address if you don't mind coming here? (>.<')
Iwaizumi drums his fingers on the table. He glances at the clock, then at the eye-searing notes by his side. yeah, let's do that.
ok! i'll put your name on the admitted list. you can come see how cool i look at work! (/^▽^)/
Twenty minutes later, Iwaizumi is standing in front of an intimidating-looking security guard with dozens of girls milling around behind him.
"Name?"
He flashes his student ID. "Iwaizumi Hajime."
The man checks his clipboard. "I've got a 'Iwaizumicchi' here."
His eye twitches. "Yes, that's me."
The guard jerks his head towards the door. "Go on in then."
The girls sigh in disappointment, and Iwaizumi quickly makes his way into the building.
Then, it's like a flashback to their first out-of-class meeting: Kise looks as serious in front of the camera as he was on the court. The blond is startlingly handsome on his bad days, and today seems to be a very good day. He poses in a frankly ridiculous leopard jacket that he somehow makes look fashionable.
If Iwaizumi had a spare thousand bucks lying around, was the type to care about sartorial choices, and liked wearing frivolous outerwear, he might be sold. He supposes that is what they pay Kise for. He is a professional, despite his flippant air and ridiculous note-taking habits.
The lights on Kise are bright enough that he won't be noticing a visitor any time soon. Iwaizumi doesn't want to interrupt the shoot, so he finds a relatively unoccupied wall to lean on. The bustle of activity is more interesting to observe than Iwaizumi would have thought.
As he watches, he realizes that modeling isn't just smiling at the camera; it seems to require as much concentration and control over the body as a sport. For the first time, it hits Iwaizumi just how impressive Kise is for being able to juggle modeling, basketball, and school.
"Guys are pretty cool when they're serious, aren't they?"
"Yeah," Iwaizumi agrees absently, then looks up in shock.
A woman wearing a professional-looking pantsuit and heels that could impale a man extends her hand. "Fujimaru Kanae, Kise Ryouta's manager."
Bemused, Iwaizumi shakes it.
She inquires, "Are you a basketball player?"
"No, I'm..."
"Ah, 'Iwaizumicchi,' is it?"
"Iwaizumi Hajime, but yeah. That's what Kise calls me. How'd you guess?"
"Lately, Kise has been talking a lot about an 'Iwaizumicchi' in his English class. And he doesn't have any non-basketball player friends, so it was the logical conclusion."
"He's a pretty popular guy," Iwaizumi ventures in confusion.
"And that's why I said 'friends' instead of 'followers.' You do know that Kise only adds '-icchi' to the names of people that he respects."
"I-"
"Throw the boy a bone, will you? He's been complaining for weeks that you won't let him take you anywhere."
"That's-"
Fujimaru peers closely at his face. "Hey, you're not bad-looking."
"...thanks?"
"We've been looking for somebody more...rugged for one of Kise's upcoming photoshoots. His partner backed out at the last minute. Your university has a long weekend coming up, right?"
Iwaizumi has a bad premonition of what will happen if he confirms that information. Luckily, they dim the lights at precisely that moment.
Kise's squeal of "Iwaizumicchi!" has never sounded more like music to his ears.
Iwaizumi hurries over, relieved he has an excuse to avoid any more of Fujimaru "Spanish Inquisition" Kanae. However, judging by the narrow glance she's giving him over her glasses, he isn't getting away that easily.
By now, Ushijima has resigned himself to serving as Oikawa's human sounding board. As the two of them are often the last to leave the gym, Oikawa detains him after practice on a weekly basis. Listening to Oikawa complain about his love life is not a role inscribed in the team duties, but he supposes it might be a stretch for tenet 15A: "Take care of your teammates' mental and physical health."
Ushijima peers at his watch. It should be any moment now.
And three, two, one -
"Just look at this!" Ushijima hears before having his vision once again obscured by a magazine. Upon examination, he discovers that it is another Kise Ryouta article.
"Where do you keep finding these?" Surely no model is popular enough to constantly have interview spots in circulating media.
"I signed up on his fanclub's listserv so I get updates whenever he does anything new," Oikawa replies impatiently. "Not the point. Look!"
Ushijima obediently reads aloud, "'Q: How has your social life been since you started at the University of Tsukuba?'"
Oikawa gestures at him to go on.
"'A: It's been great getting to know the members on the basketball team. Did you know we're on a winning streak? But we're facing Aominecchi in the next game, so that's going to be tough...Oh! And of course there's Iwa-'" He pauses, then proceeds to forge ahead. "'And of course there's Iwaizumicchi. He's my senpai in English class, and he's super great! He's really stubborn though. I've been trying to convince him for ages to do something other than study with me.'"
Kise Ryouta goes on to extol the virtues of Iwaizumi for another paragraph, the interviewer attempting to cut him off at several points in vain.
Ushijima ventures cautiously, "They seem to be close friends, yes?"
"'Iwaizumicchi,'" quotes a seething Oikawa. "How dare that usurper give my Iwa-chan a nickname. I'm the only one who can annoy him like that!"
"Ah. Like the way you still call me 'Ushikawa' despite having known me for four years?"
Oikawa ignores him. "And just what is he trying to 'convince' Iwa-chan to do, hmmm? Something nefarious, no doubt!"
"Why guess? You can just ask Iwaizumi himself," Ushijima says reasonably.
Oikawa slumps down in his seat. "Ugh...I can't. Iwa-chan put a ban on hanging out until after he takes his midterms. And then I have midterms."
"Ask him afterwards then."
"That's not a completely terrible plan," Oikawa begrudges, which is more credit than he's ever given to Ushijima before. He seems more cheerful. "After all, what could change in the span of two weeks?"
Iwaizumi is right. He doesn't get away that easily; he doesn't get away at all.
Kise - the traitor - tells Fujimaru his phone number with the excuse that, "It'll be fun, Iwaizumicchi!"
It is not fun.
Fujimaru gives him a grace period of four days before hounding him like the dogs of hell. He'll give her this: she is one determined manager.
First, she ups the offered payment for modeling until Iwaizumi has involuntary fantasies about how many months of rent he could pay by taking a few pictures.
Then, she somehow finds his address and sends him, in order: 1. the contract, 2. the limited release magazine that requested the photoshoot, apparently new to the historical fantasy genre and hoping to generate some buzz, and 3. the itinerary which includes an overnight stay at the hot springs and a visit to one of the most high-end restaurants in Kanto. Their specialty? Agedashi tofu. How the hell did she find out his favorite food?
Finally, she convinces Kise that this is a fantastic idea and sets him on Iwaizumi as well. He can tell by the increasingly eloquent arguments coming out of that mouth that Fujimaru is coaching him on what to say. Plus, there are those puppy dog eyes, day in and day out - not to mention the sad emoticons. So many sad emoticons. [To mention a few: (;﹏;) (.﹒︠₋﹒︡.) (๑◕︵◕๑) (⌯˃̶᷄ ﹏ ˂̶᷄⌯)ﾟAnd oh my god, are they growing?]
And then, she repeats the routine all over again.
Iwaizumi lasts about ten days before surrendering.
"You won't regret taking this opportunity," Fujimaru assures him as she takes the signed contract.
"Too late," Iwaizumi mutters. "I already do."
And that is how he ends up on a two days, one night trip to the forest highlands of Kanto with fashion model Kise Ryouta.
Iwaizumi pinches a corner of the suede skirt, sorry, loincloth with two fingers. "Seriously?"
The stylist Momiji Tonomine shrugs. "You can wear the calf leggings underneath, if you really want."
Leggings - those are just like tight pants, right?
"I'll take the leggings."
It turns out the leggings are tight, stretchy pants with cutouts along the sides of his hips. Somehow, the overall effect is even more obscene than if he went bare-legged. At least his front and back are (barely) covered by the skirt's fabric as long as he doesn't, you know, move.
"Where's the top?" he asks.
Momiji responds, "What top?"
If a mere helper model has to wear all this crap, then what kind of crazy outfit is Kise sporting?
Not that crazy it turns out. Kise - the bastard - is wearing a simple white toga. He even gets shoes, albeit strappy gladiator ones. An envious Iwaizumi consoles himself with the fact that the belt cinching the waist of the toga is truly gaudy. And that's before the makeup artists get a hold of them.
Kise has golden shimmer brushed onto any bare skin, and Iwaizumi has...dirt.
"It suits you," says a deadpan Momiji as she paints the red tribal markings onto his cheeks.
"Who am I supposed to be again?" he asks skeptically.
"You are a tribal warrior, taken from your home in the forest to be immortalized by the covetous sun god," Fujimaru informs.
"Won't be too hard to get in the mindset of a captive," Iwaizumi grouses. "Rub it in a little more that I'm the pauper and he's the prince in this scenario, why don't you."
Momiji slaps some mud onto his shoulder. "There you go. Done. Up and at 'em."
Iwaizumi rises from the makeup chair.
"Don't worry, you look great!" Kise says encouragingly from one seat over. "Not everybody can pull off dirt - I know I couldn't."
"Now try testing your range of motion," Momiji suggests.
His flexibility is still decent from volleyball, so Iwaizumi grabs his left knee and pulls it to his chest, then switches his grip to his left ankle and pulls backwards and upwards so that his heel brushes against his ass. Looks like he's still got it.
Now...
Iwaizumi spreads his feet in a wider stance, places his hands on his thighs for support, and bends at the waist. For some reason, he can hear choking sounds from behind him.
"Not bad," he says, somewhat out of breath from hanging upside-down.
Momiji whistles. "Not bad at all."
When Iwaizumi flips back over, he's treated to the sight of a speculative Momiji and a red-faced Kise that is studiously avoiding his gaze.
Compared to the pain in the ass that was getting ready, the actual shoot isn't too bad. The acclaimed photographer keeps saying things like, "Kise, I want to see the deity within you. Feel your godliness emanating outwards. Iwaizumi, look at him distrustfully, as if you were a startled buck. Virile - yet vulnerable."
Iwaizumi isn't sure about this emanating stuff, but Kise looks pretty convincing as a sun god. He does have the raw material for it.
As for channeling vulnerable virility... Iwaizumi widens his eyes and tilts his head upwards, and that seems to satisfy the photographer just fine because he announces, "That's a wrap!" an hour later.
Fujimaru hands them water bottles as their outfits are disassembled by a whirlwind of assistants. "Good work as always, Kise. And Iwaizumi - you did well for a beginner. Your 'startled buck' impression was eerily convincing."
"Thanks. It's going on my resume, right underneath 'Microsoft Excel skills' and 'basic conversational English.'" he replies. Momiji shows her appreciation for his commentary by stabbing him lightly with a safety pin. "Ow!"
Iwaizumi receives the message loud and clear, and shuts up for the rest of the undressing. He isn't usually this mouthy, but something about being manhandled into posing half-naked for photos just brings the sarcasm out in him.
"Iwaizumicchi, it's time for dinner!" Kise whisper-shouts.
Dinner. That means...agedashi tofu.
Well.
Maybe this situation isn't too terrible.
The five-star onsen ryokan that they check into after dinner helps too, along with the fact that Iwaizumi and Kise get an entire room to themselves.
Iwaizumi lets out a low groan as he sinks into the hot water. Kise enters a moment later with a sigh of his own.
"You still have some glitter on your chest," Iwaizumi points out lazily. "On the left. There. No, not there. There."
Kise misses the offending glitter for the third time.
Iwaizumi sighs exasperatedly. "Oh, just let me do it." He reaches over and scrapes off the stubborn little gold flake. Done.
For someone who appears so stylishly slender, Kise is surprisingly muscled underneath his clothing. You don't get pectorals like that by taking it easy. In fact, are they...getting firmer?
It occurs to him as Kise's nipples harden underneath his fingertips that this may not have been his best idea.
He lifts his eyes upwards - and swallows hard. Iwaizumi has never felt like he was the agedashi tofu on the menu before, but the hunger in those hazel eyes communicate a desire to devour. He slowly removes his hand from Kise's chest.
"Oops?" Iwaizumi tries.
Five minutes later, Kise slams him into the sliding door, kissing him so skillfully that Iwaizumi actually sees stars.
Kabe-don, a small part of him remarks deliriously. So that's what those girls in my homeroom were giggling about.
They tip over onto the futon, and his head clears a little. (The heat from the hot springs must have scrambled his brain.) Iwaizumi presses his forearm against Kise's chest to keep him from moving closer. "Have you even done this before?"
"Of course," Kise says and tries to place a hand underneath his robe.
Iwaizumi bats it away. "With a man, I mean."
"I catch on quickly," Kise purrs. "You should teach me, senpai."
His eyes darken until they shine molten gold, and this time Iwaizumi lets the blond close.
Kise mouths at his neck while inching a hand up his thigh, and he is a one hell of a multitasker in addition to being a fast learner. It's Pavlovian conditioning to pleasure; Iwaizumi's legs automatically fall open. "Do you have-?"
He also must be a magician because he pulls lube and condoms from out of nowhere.
Iwaizumi lets out a huff of laughter. "Prepared, are we?"
Hovering above, Kise grins. "More like hopeful."
Iwaizumi wraps a leg around the blond's trim waist. "Don't waste any time then. We've got an early shoot tomorrow."
He pays for that remark.
When Kise rise to meet the challenge, he goes the whole nine yards. Gasping into the crook of his neck, Iwaizumi manages to pant, "K-Kise, slow down."
"Oh?" Kise says innocently. He doesn't adjust his pace at all, if anything increasing the intensity. "I thought we were on a schedule."
"Kise!" Iwaizumi protests, voice breaking on a particularly rough thrust. He digs his nails into the tender skin of Kise's back.
Relenting, Kise grants the request - but on his own terms. He slows to a halt at the deepest point, not making it any easier for Iwaizumi to catch his breath, and then grinds his hips.
"Fuck!" Iwaizumi howls.
"I'm just following your directions, Iwaizumicchi. After all, I'm new at this." Kise hums, punctuating "new" with a grind-thrust like a corkscrew that punches the breath right out of his chest.
"You should be careful," Kise whispers conspiratorially. "If you're too loud, our dear Kanae-chan might come over to see what the problem is."
Vengefully, Iwaizumi bites the juncture of his shoulder to muffle a scream, which Kise accepts with nothing more than a grunt.
The devil has yellow eyes, Iwaizumi remembers.
It seems he bleeds red as well.
The stylists are extremely unimpressed with Iwaizumi and Kise the next morning.
"Do you know how much foundation I'm going to need to cover this?!" demands Momiji.
"This" being the scratches on Kise's back and the gigantic love bite on his neck, as well as the handprint bruises on Iwaizumi's hip bones.
Kise sheepishly puts his hands together in apology. "Sorry, Momiji-chan!" he chirps. "We got carried away."
There's no sign of the demonic being from last night; if possible, he is shining even more angelically today. Nevertheless, Iwaizumi won't make the mistake of underestimating Kise again. He hasn't felt this worn out since the back-to-back matches during his last volleyball tournament, and he nearly yelped when he sat down for breakfast.
The photographer strokes his chin. "Actually...this could work. Not the hickey, that looks like Kise has been mauled by an angry eel. But the scrapes on his back, I like those. And the bruises on Iwaizumi are definitely something we could darken..." He snaps a finger. "I've got it! We're changing the original concept. The second part of the project was supposed to depict the warrior's elevation. But what if we reverse that? Have the sun god fall, let them mutually capture each other. Darker, more passionate, I'm a genius!"
Kise switches into a sheer linen racerback (the better to display the marks on his back) and harem pants. Ha, score one for not being the one who wears ridiculous bottoms this time. Iwaizumi is deprived of a shirt, but this time he gets jeans - without any cut outs, even! The downside is the leather jeans are tight enough that it takes two assistants to pour Iwaizumi into them. (The way Kise licks his lips when he sees him is pretty gratifying though.) Thankfully, there are no more sparkles or dirt. The makeup artists transform the light scratches on Kise's shoulder bones into bleeding clawmarks and darken the hand print bruises on Iwaizumi's hips until they look like unearthly shadows.
Fantastic, Iwaizumi thinks with a sigh, I've always wanted to have the aftermath of rough sex to be artistically rendered on my body for a print magazine. Of course he doesn't say anything aloud - he's learned from yesterday's safety pin incident, thanks to Momiji.
It is a good thing that Iwaizumi and Kise got up close and personal yesterday night because today's shoot involves a lot more skin-to-skin contact.
The photographer claps his hands. "Alright, boys. Chest-to-chest! Iwaizumi - you're shorter, so hook your neck over Kise's shoulder. Turn your head slightly. Kise - put your hand in Iwaizumi's back pocket possessively. Yes, that's it exactly!"
Their hips are currently pressed up against each other in a very non-platonic manner. Iwaizumi says out of the side of his mouth, "You better not get hard. Those billowy pants of yours won't hide a thing."
"I'd be more worried about yourself," Kise whispers back. "It'll hurt getting hard in such tight jeans."
He scoffs. "After last night, I won't even be able to think about sex for at least a week."
Kise says lowly in his ear, "See you in a week then."
As it turns out, Iwaizumi does have to worry about himself.
At this point, Ushijima is accustomed to the feel of laminated paper on his face. He gamely examines the spread, which seems to describe the myth of a sun god and warrior.
One day, the sun god surveyed the forest from high above and saw the warrior hunting for his village. The sun god was so impressed by the warrior's strength and vigor that he went down to meet him. Up close, the warrior appeared even more impressive, so the sun god offered him the chance to join his temple. The warrior would become a minor deity and live the rest of his days at the side of the sun god.
The photograph to the right depicts a wary, crouching Iwaizumi and a gleaming gold Kise. Ushijima isn't who anyone would call an art connoisseur, but even he can tell that it is a well composed shot. The look on Iwaizumi's face is one of a hunter who has just discovered he is to be prey; Kise, on the other hand, appears inhumanely graceful and fearsome.
He flips the page to read the second part of the story.
However, the warrior refused. He had no need for worshipers and finery; the spear in his hand and the soil underneath his feet were all that he required. But the sun god was powerful and unused to rejection. He captured the warrior and forcefully granted him godhood. Immortal beings, the sun god and warrior were forever bound to each other. Yet the warrior never forgave the sun god for ripping him away from his life on earth. They say you can still hear the clash of spear and staff in the valley today.
He looks to the right-hand photograph. There are two shots of Iwaizumi and Kise.
The first panel has Iwaizumi standing with his back to the camera and Kise gazing over his shoulder. No longer is the sun god's expression inscrutable; rather, he looks like a man enraptured. The blond has a hand snaked around Iwaizumi's left hip to match the shadowy imprint that decorates his right hipbone.
The second panel switches perspective, so that Kise is the one with his back to the camera. And what a back - four long scratches on each side mar his shoulder bones like bloody wings. Neck stretched and jaw clenched, Iwaizumi rears back in order to glower at the blond.
Despite the original roles of god and abductee, it is a scene depicting mutual captivation.
He blinks. "This is quite...homoerotic."
"This," Oikawa hisses, "this is what Kise was trying to convince Iwa-chan to do." He starts pacing back and forth. "Those marks on their bodies look too realistic to be faked. The dimensions of the bruises and scratches roughly correspond to their respective hand sizes. He said they weren't dating, but maybe it's more of a physical relationship. That's how the thing with Miyuki began though..."
Ushijima interrupts. "I have been pondering this for a while, but if you are going to expend this much energy on worrying whether Iwaizumi is in a relationship with someone, why not try your own luck with him?"
"Luck? I don't need luck - I need certainty! I'm not going to risk screwing up the best thing in my life on the off chance that Iwa-chan might be interested in me romantically."
Ushijima has a feeling that Oikawa has revealed more than he intended, so he quickly follows up with a question to distract him. "And if he is?"
"Then...then..." His shoulders slump. "I can forget about passing the Olympic tryouts because I would have used all the good luck in my lifetime. I'm not a nice guy; my karma isn't that great."
"By acting, you may bring to the surface feelings which were not visible before. By not acting, you will never know what could have been," Ushijima points out.
"Can't fail if I don't try," Oikawa counters.
The setter is one of the most stubborn people Ushijima has had the pleasure (?) of meeting, so those words cannot be indicative of his true feelings. Either way, Oikawa's attitude is unbecoming of someone whom Ushijima has granted recognition.
Ushijima puts on his "lecturing captain" face, which he has only had to use once before. He has it on good authority that he appears ten to twenty times more intimidating than usual when doing so - and to quote one of his cruder teammates: "Regular you already scares the shit out of first-years."
He says sternly, "If you continue to wallow in your inaction and complain in the shadows, then you are not the man I thought you were. And if you confess and your relationship is ruined, then Iwaizumi Hajime is not the man I thought he was."
"Iwa-chan would never-!" Oikawa instinctively cries, before catching himself. He eyes Ushijima warily. "Damn. You've gotten trickier since high school, Ushikawa."
Because Ushijima has learned a thing or two and Oikawa sounds more resigned now, he says lightly, "I had to, in order to keep up with the trickiest setter I know. If there is one thing that my match with Karasuno taught me, it is the importance of constantly evolving. Dwelling on the past only hinders you from moving on to the future."
Oikawa still looks sour about having been manipulated - and having been reminded about his own loss to Karasuno during senior year.
"Everything changes," Ushijima intones. "You of all people should know better than to fight that."
"I know, I know," Oikawa says dismissively. "The only constant is change - blah, blah, blah. I think I've had enough cliches for the day, Yoda."
But it looks like some of Ushijima's words did get through after all because Oikawa pauses when he gets to the door.
Without turning around, the setter mutters in a low voice, "Thanks...Ushijima."
