Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2511701.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Haikyuu!!
  Relationship:
      Oikawa_Tooru/Tsukishima_Kei
  Additional Tags:
      Omega_Verse, trust_me_on_this_one_guys, have_i_ever_led_you_wrong_before,
      i_do_not_go_for_simpering_whiny_bottoms
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-25 Words: 2630
****** cool spring ******
by JeanSouth
Summary
     Tsukishima Kei manages not to get stuck in the rut of Hollywood-
     driven, over-romanced Alpha/Omega relationships by pure luck and by
     having the numbers on his side. For a while. Luck runs out,
     eventually. Must be the mirror he broke when he was seven.
Notes
     do please note tsukki is still a teen whereas oikawa is a legal adult
     in this, in case that's not up your alley
Tsukishima thought he might scream, which was both extremely embarrassing and
highly unlike his usual character. High school was bad enough as it was;
everywhere around him he had to deal with obnoxious gasps at his height, and
unfunny jokes that he was surgically attached to his headphones.
He had only thanked every god he didn’t believe in that alphas at his school
were rare, even in relation to the low numbers of them to start with. Less than
five percent of the population, with omegas turning up in similarly low
numbers. Genetic anomalies for no good reason; Hollywood liked to speculate,
and the bond between alpha and omegas was obnoxiously romanticized to the point
he never mentioned his own unfortunate genetics, and there had been no alphas
to find out so far.
Until his second year brought a new math teacher and a former volleyball
prodigy eager to stick his nose into their team. And as Tsukishima’s luck would
run, an alpha.
The alpha’s nose twitched when he strutted into their math class for the first
time. He had nice, fluffy hair and looked like he might have been a model if
not for the way he looked like he couldn’t be serious even if he was paid for
it. His eyes locked on Tsukishima for a minute subtly, while he unpacked all
the materials he would need.
“My name is Oikawa Tooru,” he said eventually, straightening up with a bright
smile. He scribbled out his name on the chalkboard in a hand surprisingly neat
for a teacher. Maybe with age it would deteriorate; he was plenty young and had
the female students halfway in his pocket. “I’m twenty-four, my hobbies are
volleyball and cooking, and I’m single!”
He paused to let it sink in, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his amused
smile when half a dozen boys buried their faces in their hands, faced with
another obstacle to overcome before approaching the girlfriend of their dreams.
“Oh!” he added, loudly, to catch their attention. “And I’m an alpha, looking
for the omega to fill the other half of my heart!”
On queue, the girls swooned, excitedly scribbling notes to pass back and forth
as soon as his back was turned. Alphas like him were the reason half the young
romance novels featured terrible bound-by-fate, love-on-first-sight plots.
Tsukishima sighed, rested his chin on his hands, then went completely tense,
earning him a look of worry from Oikawa. Volleyball.
-
“The new teacher is weird,” Tsukishima sniped out in the middle of practice,
unable to bare Nishinoya’s incessant chatter about how cool alphas were, and
how Daichi should have been one. He stopped mid-sentence, rounding on him with
Tanaka.
“You’re only saying that because he’s an alpha and you’re an omega. I bet
you’re just pretending to dislike him because you like him,” Tanaka pointed
out, leaning in far too close. Over the past year, he resented how well they’d
gotten to know him, and saw things he wouldn’t admit to himself, like the
curiosity the terrible romance movies had stirred in him, and how they’d made
him wonder for years if Alphas truly were undeniably irresistible, and if he
would find one that felt like everything slotting into place.
Every other book said a different thing; some ruthlessly cut down rumours and
claimed an alpha and omega ought only meet to soothe a mating heat, where
others waxed romantic that from the first heat sated by an alpha, they
would know if they were the one, and never get back the pieces of souls traded
between them.
“If he liked Tsukki back, that would make him a pervert,” Kageyama piped up
from gathering the volleyballs. Tsukishima appreciated small mercies, and the
shaky but long-standing alliance that had sprung up between him and Kageyama
after an evening of bonding over being tall, surly teenagers bullied by the
rest of the club.
“I don’t think Oikawa is that way…” Hinata protested, seemingly fond of their
new teacher, and saying his name seemed to have summoned Oikawa from whichever
dark pit Tsukishima was certain he spent most of his time in, waiting to pounce
on unsuspecting students. He wouldn’t let his guard down, he decided. As Oikawa
came in, he grabbed one of the volleyballs, jump-serving it to Hinata, who
spiked it for Nishinoya to block. Tsukishima almost rolled his eyes; the two
idiots would be immediately fond of him.
“Hello!” Oikawa called out, until the first years perked up and came to
investigate too. “I’m going to be helping out in training from now on. I used
to be a setter, too, and I still play a lot. My high school team won nationals
twice, and in my first year we came second, so my credentials should be pretty
good.”
He tilted his head to the side, making his fluffy hair bounce with the
movement.
“He’s too nice,” Kageyama murmured darkly in his ear, rolling his eyes when
Oikawa continued talking, offering any of the team a chance to challenge him to
show off his moves. “I bet he’s like a nougat, with a hard, smiley shell and a
liquid centre of pure evil.”
Tsukishima turned just in time to catch the barely-there smile on Kageyama’s
lips, proving fleetingly he wasn’t entirely void of a sense of humour. As soon
as his speech was finished, the first years anxiously milled about, unwilling
to challenge their newest coach.
“Back to practice, then!” Tanaka called, hands on his hips, cackling faux-
evilly as the rest of them scrambled. Tsukishima bent to straighten up all the
water bottles knocked over at some point, and tensed at the hand on his lower
back. The scent of alpha flooded his senses and he grimaced, displeased by the
way he couldn’t pinpoint any of the reasons it annoyed him.
“Tsukishima Kei, was it?” Oikawa questioned, his hand slowly slipping off
Tsukishima’s back when he stood up, lingering only briefly.
“Yes. Class 2-4. 16 years old.” He stared pointedly at Oikawa, taken aback by
the shameless smile that curved his lips. They were quite full and looked soft.
“Age isn’t important if you feel that spark when you’re mating,” Oikawa
countered, and offered him a slow, warm smile before he turned back to the
court, watching each of their players for a moment.
As he watched, Kageyama tossed; his perfectly controlled toss allowing for
Hinata’s jumping power, their spike only barely caught by the blockers. For a
few minutes, he carried a monologue.
“I used to hate geniuses,” Oikawa confided in him, sitting heavily on the bench
behind them, hands cupping his chin. He seemed to wait, to see if he had
Tsukishima’s attention. “I always worked so hard, but they could match me
without even trying. I had to work twice as hard and exhaust myself to even
touch on their level. I hated it. My only goal was to see them fall to my
team.”
He stopped for a second, sighing, then smiling at Yamaguchi’s serve. For a
moment, Tsukishima wondered if Hollywood might not have it a little right, and
fate placed compatible people together. Oikawa would understand his bitterness…
“Eventually, we kept winning,” Oikawa smiled, but it wasn’t as happy as he had
expected. “But I wasn’t really having fun. I was too bitter… too focused on how
much I hated their natural ability. I was so jealous and proud I couldn’t enjoy
our victories.”
He glanced at Tsukishima from the corner of his eye, patting the bench next to
him until they were sat together instead.
“Slowly, I stopped hating them. It was hard, but it wasn’t their fault they
were geniuses… Once I let go, and practised for the joy of winning and working
with my team, I was a lot happier.”
Tsukishima stayed for a second, pretending to clean and inspect his glasses.
“Why would you tell me that?” he asked, unfamiliar feelings churning around his
gut. Oikawa laying bare one of his scars was completely unexpected in contrast
to the smiling, confident teacher who had captured the hearts of half the
students.
“To let you know you can trust me,” Oikawa smiled at him, and it made him look
his age. Eight years wasn’t a big gap. “Not all alphas are geniuses who excel
at everything, and have no feelings but pride.”
With that, he pushed himself up from the bench, and found Yamaguchi first,
leaving Tsukishima alone with his curiosity and the uncomfortable feeling that
he may be able to like Oikawa.
-
After that, he tried not to think of Oikawa, which proved to be more difficult
than anticipated. He had math every other day, and nine out of ten times,
Oikawa showed up to practice.
“You’re staring, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi informed him with a slight shake to his
shoulder, drawing him out of his reverie of wondering what Oikawa was like at
home. Did he cook? Tsukishima thought he would like it if Oikawa cooked, but
not all the time. He wondered if his hair flattened after a shower, leaving him
an inch shorter and sort of adorable.
“Thanks,” he shook his head, and bowed out of practice for a few minutes to
splash water on his face. The past few weeks had been odd enough, but the past
few days had been a nightmare, his focus entirely shot to hell and his body
refusing to cooperate, waking him up throughout the night, sweating and
uncomfortable.
He ran the tap until it felt freezing, sticking his wrists under the cold
spray, then dipped to do the same with his face. It helped less and less every
time.
“Should you be in school?” Oikawa was behind him, frowning, concern clear on
his face. His arms were folded over his chest. Nice arms. Tsukishima wanted to
see him play a match.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” he countered, drying his face off with paper towels and
slipping his glasses back on.
“By the smell of you,” Oikawa stepped in closer to him, nose pressed to the
crook of Tsukishima’s neck. “You’re going into heat today or tomorrow. Do you
really want to risk going into heat in the middle of practice?”
His frown deepened as he took another deep breath, hands tightening for a
second on Tsukishima’s waist until he stepped back slowly, a clear bulge in his
trousers that drew Tsukishima’s attention both by sight and smell; Oikawa’s
frustrating scent amplified tenfold by arousal.
“I didn’t know I was going into heat,” Tsukishima admitted begrudgingly. There
was a lot about his own biology he didn’t know and hadn’t ventured into, and
his extended family boasted no other omegas to help him. “What happens now?”
He hated to ask, and Oikawa looked torn between two answers before he settled
on one, looking slightly disappointed.
“A lot of masturbation, I guess,” he shrugged, running a hand over his face.
“You’d be satisfied for a few hours with a knot, but… without it, most omegas
use knotting toys. I’m gonna guess you don’t have one, though…”
The idea of sex toys turned Tsukishima’s face red, but by the time he would
find some online and have them delivered, his heat would be over.
“And if I wanted your help?” he watched Oikawa grimace, hand drifting to his
cock to try to relieve some of the pressure.
“You’d only have to call. You have my number from the daytrip last week,” with
that Oikawa fled, a slight limp in his step, and Tsukishima wondered how bad it
could really be.
-
How bad it could be, it turned out by Wednesday, was very. His brother hadn’t
stopped laughing since Monday evening, and Tsukishima was plagued by constant
arousal and unrelenting thoughts of the way Oikawa had smelled aroused and
ready to knot him there on the spot, if only he’d asked for it. He slipped his
fingers inside himself, grateful that his odd biology made it easy and slick,
and grasped his cock again. Every time he did, it felt less satisfying, and it
was becoming harder to make himself come.
He rolled over, face buried in his pillow, and tried to chase away the thoughts
of Oikawa leaving the choice up to him, of Oikawa talking to him openly and
frankly, and of Oikawa not treating him like he could take having sex with him
for granted. It made him want Oikawa to fuck him. Gritting his teeth, he
grabbed his phone and found the right number.
Can I come over?
Sure. Here’s my address.
-
Oikawa had a nice house with two potted plants by the front door, and a brass
knocker he ignored in favour of ringing the bell three times, slightly hunched
over with the need for anything, for something to relieve him, only slightly
soothed by the sound of Oikawa running to the door and dragging him inside,
only barely holding himself back.
He looked flushed, nostrils flared and his fingers dug into Tsukishima’s upper
arms.
“Are you sure?” he insisted, looking like he was ready to lock Tsukishima out,
even if it pained him to do so. “Not just because you’re in heat?”
“I’m 90 percent sure,” Tsukishima laughed, slightly strained, and stepped in
closer himself, his heart fluttering in his chest at the look of pleasure that
swept over Oikawa’s face. “You’d better make my morning after good.”
Smiling at his faked confidence, Oikawa took the stairs two at a time,
Tsukishima’s hand in his own, leading him to the bedroom, saturated in the
scent of Oikawa full of hints of the times he’d pleasured himself. And no one
else, Tsukishima realized with a possessive sense of joy.
He tugged his hand free to strip, no teasing but only urgency until he could
crawl on the bed, staying on his hands and knees to tempt Oikawa into coming
closer, faster. The bed dipped when he crawled on too, pressing a kiss to
Tsukishima’s lower back.
“I love how you get slick and loose,” Oikawa moaned out, two fingers rubbing
over Tsukishima’s well-fingered hole before slipping in for a few seconds, the
feeling clearly driving him over the edge until he lined himself up, his chest
to Tsukishima’s back, begging a kiss and permission to enter him.
“Just hurry up,” Tsukishima pushed his hips back, the tip of Oikawa’s cock
bumping against his hole before he thrust forward, penetrating him deeper and
deeper before the faint start of a knot bumped against his hole. Oikawa begged
more kisses from him as he thrust in and out, eventually grinding forward to
slip the beginnings of the knot at the base of his cock inside Tsukishima.
It felt… good. Bigger than his fingers and bigger than Oikawa’s cock, swelling
slowly inside him until he felt full, the knot pressing and rubbing against his
prostate where Oikawa kept grinding into him, his hands curling around
Tsukishima’s cock to drag him over the edge and make him come.
He groaned as he felt Oikawa’s cock pulse inside him, releasing all of his come
until his legs gave out and he nearly collapsed to the side, keeping Tsukishima
spooned close to his chest.
“I’ll keep coming inside you for a few minutes,” Oikawa’s fingers rubbed at his
nipples, teasing them gently. “Then when we’ve had some time, I’ll fuck you
again, okay?”
He sounded sated and pleased, pressing even closer until it felt like he’d wrap
Tsukishima up and no let him go again.
“We’ll have to stop to eat eventually,” Tsukishima felt suddenly shy at the
blatant affection, and basked in the sound of Oikawa’s laugh.
“In the morning, I’ll make you breakfast in bed, with my famous omelettes and
salmon,” he promised, and it was a very large step towards a good morning
after.
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