astronomy in reverse

do what she asks. kuma’s face burns with emotion and a slurry of other emotions she can’t quite name, and is only dragged back out of her head by the the rumble of ushijima’s voice, and the touch of his hand across her shoulder. right, they’re here-- they’re here to--

but if oikawa is about to lose his grip on the sheets, iwaizumi is about to sink into the mattress, hot like summer sidewalk, keening at the way michiko pampers him as oikawa’s fingers sink into him with little resistance. oikawa’s teeth gnash, the feeling of hajime slick and hot around him making it difficult to think about anything else.

it takes iwaizumi a minute to reply. “can’t, uh, think,” he grunts, pupils blown open wide, practically drooling as he seeks michiko’s mouth to return her kisses. there’s only a beat of silence after her question and oikawa does something with his wrist that has iwaizumi’s eyes practically rolling back into his head as he moans, thighs shaking.

“yes, hajime,” oikawa coos, voice so low he himself almost doesn’t recognize it, “what do you want? what next?” he does the wrist movement again, shifts his fingers, and iwaizumi shifts forward into michiko, a silent request for more. “please, anything, i can’t-- need--”

“i like you, too, yuu,” she tells him thoughtfully after a moment. it isn’t something she thinks about; already overwhelmed by life outside of the safety her family offered, the idyllic bubble that she assumed was a microcosm of the world beyond her living room walls, things like romance and friendship lose their meaning in the grander scheme of things. of course she loves nishinoya, that’s not up for debate. but thinking about it in terms of romance just makes it confusing.

she trusts him, and likes him. that says more than enough for her.

“is that what you want, hajime?” oikawa asks, voice low and syrup-thick as he presses his thumb against the growing wet spot on iwaizumi’s boxers. “for michi and i to undress you?”

true to form, iwaizumi grunts and does his best scowl. “either do it or don’t, stop asking questions you already know the answers to.”

oikawa snorts. “i’d be concerned if you let me have anything easily.” and with that, he pulls iwaizumi’s shorts and boxers down over his hips, using his feet to force them off and onto the floor at the foot of the bed. wasting no time, oikawa slips a hand between iwaizumi’s thighs, presses a thumb against his perineum before groaning at the sweltering wet heat of his entrance, only applying gentle pressure with his fingers. iwaizumi groans again, higher, needier, and oikawa is pretty sure the seam of his sweats is about to bust, or he is, he can’t tell.

god, he wants them. so much he feels like his skin might split at the seams in a failure to contain what boils beneath it. in this moment, oikawa sheds himself, steps out of the skin that preens and fusses, and allows himself to follow his alpha instincts.

“hajime,” he all but growls, practically diving beneath the covers to get close to both of them, immediately finding the iwaizumi’s neck to scent him because it is literally the only thing on his mind, he can’t function around it even as he cups michi’s neck and presses a thumb to her pulse to keep her close. normally, iwaizumi would knee him for using his given name, but now, it elicits a sound that’s somewhere between a grunt and a whine into michiko’s mouth, and oikawa is so, so, so helplessly turned on by that single noise that he swears he’s gonna rip his sweats from the force of achieving erection.

“took you long enough,” he pants, still licking at michi’s lips, like the thought of doing something other than kissing her is a physical impossibility.

“you had michi here and she took good care of you,” oikawa shoots back coolly, even as he threatens to boil beneath his skin. he wants to knot iwaizumi so bad the base of his dick hurts and he fucking swears he feels it swelling in preparation. “isn’t that right?”

iwaizumi’s eyes are glassy when they meet oikawa’s, dazed, like he’s seeing him through a fogged mirror. “yeah,” he replies, voice hazy, “she did. love kissing michi.”

“yeah?” oikawa turns to thumb at michiko’s lower lip. “she likes kissing you, too, right?” except then he can’t think about anything else, and leans in to kiss michiko himself, like she is the only drink he has had after days of wandering through the desert. he’s so close to the edge of his control.

she doesn’t know what she wants. she wants relief, wants to believe ushijima when he says he’d help her if she asked him, but when she thinks of articulating the thoughts, her whole body shakes. she can’t do that to him, can’t do that to him, this is weird even by omega standards and he shouldn’t have to-- to--

whatever, just because she’s bad at taking her medication.

one look at his face, however, and her resolve withers. aside from how handsome he obviously is, ushijima wears his kindness on his face, at least for her. in that moment she is beyond smitten.

“i--” she begins hesitantly, grabbing onto his hand and squeezing as she avoids his gaze. “it’d be best... if i got... it out somehow...?” she says, softly so only he can hear. “the, uhm...” she wants to die. “the...” she motions to the growing wet spots on her shirt. “you-- help?” she asks, dizzy, feeling like she might throw up in anxious tension as she thrusts her transit pass into his hand.

the real world continues to be a slap in the face. she has to wonder why people continue to want to be around her when all she does is fumble, hard, and end up in situations someone else needs to help her out of. she knows she’s a cloud of pheromones; this can’t be easy on ushijima, either, but he’s still trying his best for her sake, and all she wants to do is cry and maybe become a recluse and live in the mountains, where she can only burden the fauna there with her inability to look after herself.

“i-- i don’t know,” she replies shakily, “this has never happened before. i’ve never just quit cold turkey like this. body’s trying to reach equilibrium or something, i guess, and overshot the mark.”

she’s pretty sure she knows how he can help, but kuma is far too terrified to ask. that’s more than she can expect given the circumstances, so as soon as he gets her home, he can go, and she’ll just sit in the shower and cry some more. it seems about as effective as everything else she’s been doing.

with concentrated effort, kuma removes herself from him, tries to give him breathing room and avoid lounging on top of him; it’s just as much about avoiding that edge of overstimulation, but even as she flops down onto his bed, she still feels every throb like it happens across her whole pelvis and beneath her belly, eyes glassy as she regards him with a dazed smile.

“you’re really good at that,” she says, dreamlike, face flushed. “better than anyone else who’s done it. i think i could almost sleep now.”