A/N: Rushed because I wanted to get something out for you guys :)
Warning: Elements of bullying, pocky game rules may be wrong, enemies to lovers, taller Iwa, cussing, making out.
After a very preoccupied morning, Tooru had finally made it to his locker for the first time today. He puffed out a breath of relieving air, controlling the tempting urge to scream into his hollow locker, as he opened it sluggishly. Rubbing his eye in an aggressively fatigued manner, Oikawa flinched, a creased piece of torn, lilac paper gracefully fluttered to the marked floor of the hustling hallway, innocently scaring him.
Without a word, he leant over to pick it up.
An intruding foot came into contact with the back of his leg, causing him to fall forward onto his knees, with a grunt.
Tooru blinked away the dull ache, peering up through long lashes to find the culprit walking away, smugness radiating from the prick, as if nothing had happened.
Iwaizumi Hajime.
What a dick.
Looking back at the paper in hand, Tooru carefully unfolded the mysterious message, skim reading as he hauled himself from the floor.
Music room.
12:05 pm.
Oikawa frowned, glancing at his watch.
12:03.
The brunette was intrigued, mindlessly shutting his locker, before setting off down the hall.
The same hall Iwaizumi had strolled down.
Reaching the music room in record time, Oikawa opened the oak door warily, taking deep but stuttering breaths to calm both his wild anxiety and running heartbeat.
Inside, the soft sunlight illumed through the glistening window, falling upon rows of glossy desks, giving the classroom a coruscating glow. Doe eyes scanned the pretty room, widening when they fell upon an emotionless Hajime, closed-eyed, basking in the warm rays. His shaped raven locks, looking a rich, chocolatey brown in the gold lighting, spindly shadows of his eyelashes projecting a smoky flair to the canvased skin of his defined cheekbones, his whole face looking finely sculpted in the beautiful beams.
The brunette gulped at the thought of even checking the imbecile out.
He slowly backed away, holding the door with a little bit of force as it followed behind him hastily, trying to avoid making a single noise, but according to the universe, today wasn't Oikawa's day, as the door hinges betrayed him, letting it be known to his nemesis that he was there.
The clearing of a throat, one Tooru would preferably like to have his hands around, could be heard in the empty room.
"Don't think you're leaving Shittykawa." The hairs on the back of the said teen's neck stood to attention at the husky tone, and with a sigh, Oikawa entered the room once again
This time, Iwaizumi was found setting up his phone camera, clicking record on the video setting as the brunette watched himself come into view. He glared at the elder through the lens, Hajime only staring at him with the same intensity. The two continued to stare indirectly, the younger beginning to notice the sharpness of the other's gaze.
Unnerving...
"Can I at least know why you're videoing me?" Oikawa crossed his arms as some sort of intimidation tactic, proving futile as Hajime grew closer. The crossed arms flailed slightly as he backed up into a desk, the top of Tooru's plush thighs digging into the rough edge, his weakened knees knocking with the other's. Without thinking, the brunette attempted to push the raven away, his wrist being caught instantaneously and pinned aggressively to the desk.
Silence washed over them. The sun naively gleaming in the window the younger was facing.
The sound of thrumming hearts pounded throughout the desolate room like an echo. Hajime looked down at the smaller, grimacing at the wires of anxiety tightening in his chest. What did he have to be nervous for? It's only the scrawny motherfucker after all.
Using his free hand, Iwaizumi pulled out a packet from his back pocket. Tooru flinched as a familiar box was brought to eye level, the monotonous fear of being hit searing the forefront of his mind.
"Pocky? That's why I'm here?" The younger cocked a brow, "What? You're going to give me so- No, no, no, no, no." Oikawa panicked, struggling in the elder's grasp.
"I made a bet with some friends, and you, Shittykawa, are gonna help me get that bet money." Iwaizumi grinned, shaking the box a little. Tooru cringed away.
"If you need money that bad, get a job like the fucking rest of us, you dick." The smaller barked, venom dripping from his mouth in the form of spit. "Or better yet, find someone else to do the stupid bet with." He yanked his wrist from the other's burning grip.
Hajime menacingly inched closer, almost nose to nose with the cowering teen.
"The bastards specifically requested it be you. Now play, or you wont be able to move your jaw in order play next time." He growled threateningly into the shell of the younger's ear, the vibrations inducing a shiver.
Oikawa stifled.
Next time? Like, he'll hunt me down to play if I don't agree now?
He stiffly nodded in hesitant agreeance.
With a coy smile, Iwaizumi backed off in order to open the brightly decorated box, the box likely taunting the two with it's humdrum joy for the unwanted situation.
The pocky game: Place a stick of pocky between the lips of the two players, bite your end until you reach the middle...The player with the longest piece after pulling away, wins.
"Now, the bet is that they believe you could beat me," The raven started, pulling a singular, sickly-sweet stick from the blush, metallic foil. "I'm here to prove them wrong." That alluring smirk and rough tone had Tooru wringing the corners of the desk with moist palms and tingling fingers, aching to grasp at anything within their vicinity.
The camera made sense now.
But what's going on with him? He's meant to hate this guy...Not get flustered over him.
The devil's box was thrown to the desk to the right of him, his fingers dug heftier.
The dark silhouette of the dire man stepped towards him, his breaths grew sharper.
A calloused hand forced his jaw open heartlessly, his swallowing grew thicker.
Tooru jerked his head slightly with habit, Iwaizumi saying nothing but applying more pressure to his hold. The raven had given him the biscuit end, the sugary exterior of the snack causing saliva to foam at the corners of the younger's lips.
The elder manually shut the other's mouth around the stick, placing his unoccupied hand onto the other side of the brunette's face, to keep him sturdy and with a minute flare of the nostrils, Hajime took the coated end.
Without indication Oikawa had began cautiously nibbling on his end, the other blinked, clearly not expecting the distinctly fretting teen to be so forward.
He probably wants to get this over with.
Iwaizumi picked up the pace, taking larger bites, surpassing the middle within seconds. Tooru, flickered his eyes upwards, tearing from his concentration on the taste. Only to squeak abashedly, when inky, shrewd eyes flew closer to him. He frantically pulled away with the short end of the stick, leaving the unrelenting raven with the longer piece.
The triumphant look the cocky bastard gave the camera was enough to pull the younger from his embarrassed state, determination setting in its place like poison, intrudingly so.
Locking eyes with the taller, Tooru pulled a stick from the packet, with large difficulty, placing the chocolate end almost sensually between his rosy lips. Hajime watched every movement intricately, swooping back in to take the harder end.
The large hands had moved from their position, landing a lot lower and cupping the brunette's throat. The pace was slow and steady but the smaller teen had grown overly confident, holding loosely onto one of the forbidden wrists as he gazed enticingly at the owner through dark lashes, trying to throw him off, as his bites grew significantly lengthier until he'd reached the middle.
Iwaizumi, only a bite behind, softly squoze at the velvety skin beneath his leathery digits, temporarily distracting the other as his own brushed the silken lips guarding his winning treat. Swerving swiftly, the elder chuckled in victory, going cross eyed a little to see the largely protruding end of the pocky from his mouth. Meanwhile, an extremely confound Oikawa slumped against the desk, perspiring hands pressed firmly against his mouth in utter disbelief.
Did we just...kiss?
Before he could think any further, his sweaty palms were ripped from his face and another piece of pocky slipped into his mouth. A sly grin adorned the raven's face, warning Oikawa of the things he had planned in order to win that idiotic bet.
Not on my watch.
Hajime couldn't even get the stick comfortably between his smooth lips before Tooru had began to crunch away as prompt as possible. In an obscured frenzy the taller matched his pace, locking sight with the other's toffee-creamed irises, sticking to him with deep, syrupy, desire as they both met at the center.
Next? A blur.
Pocky long forgotten, their tenaciously candied lips slotted together with such longing that it put true love to shame. Their pearly teeth colliding in a haste clash only to be separated once more, as they gave a chance for the tongues to truculently twist and curl around the other in a dance of raw passion. Attractive eyes were hidden by delicate lids, as eager hands explored the new maps laid out in-front of them, openly displayed. Iwaizumi cupped the back of the younger's neck, gruffly pulling him as close as he can get, desperate to taste more of what he already had. Greed grasping at his rationality. A hand ran down Oikawa's arm in a feather-like manner, the scorching touch burning through the paper-thin, cotton of his crisp, white shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the fingers' wake, gratifying chills bursting through the pale sheet of skin, as if begging to be stroked with such genuine attentiveness again. Tooru, kept a hand pressed rigidly against the toned stomach of his 'aggressor', his sharp nails raking as much of the sickly flesh ,through coarse material, as he could, to hideously feed at his expandingly noxious addiction. The other hand, tugging playfully at the once perfectly placed hair, reveling in the hoarse groans elicited from the dominating but now rather vulnerable teen, no cares in the world, only intoxicating supply and demand.
No witnesses.
Only the ongoing timer sitting idly on the camera.
Observing.
Ticking.
Recording.
