Chapter Text
The silver bike was back, and it was parked directly in Iwaizumi’s way.
His Harley roared beneath him as the wheels crunched over the gravel. He stalled at the edge of the dirt square he’d used as a parking spot for the past two years. It was shaded by a canopy of branches, the sunlight filtering through the leaves and dappling the shiny paint job on the sleek silver motorcycle. It had been well-maintained. The body was spotless, the only visible dirt ground into the treads of the tires.
Iwaizumi thought about kicking the damn thing over.
Instead he eased the throttle forward and parked to the side, where the sun would soak into the leather seat of his bike and make it uncomfortably warm. He swung a leg over and engaged the kickstand, raising his arms overhead in a spine-cracking stretch. He’d been riding for nearly two hours, which wouldn’t have bothered him several years ago. As he flirted ever closer to thirty, his body grew stiffer every time he took a lengthy ride.
If Oikawa had been there, he would have made a joke at Iwaizumi’s expense. He would’ve called him an old man, or said maybe Iwaizumi should consider trading in his Harley for a cane. Iwaizumi would’ve hit him, and Oikawa would have complained for at least twenty minutes afterward.
But Oikawa wasn’t there, and as Iwaizumi pulled off his helmet, the copse of trees remained blissfully silent.
It would have been a perfect day, if an idiot stranger hadn’t parked in Iwaizumi’s spot.
He scuffed toward the trees, puffs of dirt stirring around the soles of his boots, and slipped through a cluster of branches to reach the clearing beyond. The distant rush of ocean waves and the muted cries of seagulls swirled in the salt-kissed breeze. There were a pair of sun-bleached picnic tables that were rarely used, a low cliff overlooking Sendai Bay, and a single man standing at the edge, arms folded as he stared out at the water.
This overlook wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t frequented by many people, either. There were other scenic stops along this road that attracted more traffic, and a rest stop a couple miles ahead that lured in most bikers.
But Iwaizumi preferred this spot, and judging by the silver bike that had been there the past few times he’d stopped, this man did, too.
Iwaizumi stepped up on the bench of a picnic table and sat on the edge, the old wood creaking beneath his weight. He leaned back on his hands, the rough surface threatening to splinter into his palms.
The stranger glanced over his shoulder, taking in Iwaizumi with a cut of sharp eyes, before refocusing on the bay. A puff of smoke drifted away on the wind and he tapped cigarette ash onto the dirt.
Iwaizumi took a few minutes to enjoy the serene atmosphere, appreciating the quiet and suppressing his mild annoyance, before reaching into his jacket for his own pack of cigarettes.
For the past three years he’d insisted he was quitting.
It hadn’t happened yet, but it was still part of the plan.
He tapped one out, held it between his lips, and fished through his pockets for a lighter. After a minute of searching, he realized he’d either misplaced it or forgotten it.
Iwaizumi could wait until he got back home, but it was almost an hour’s ride and he didn’t want to fend off a nicotine craving that long. The need for it was already gnawing at him like a hungry wolf.
Ahead of him, the stranger dropped his cigarette in the dirt and ground it out beneath the heel of his boot.
Iwaizumi was inclined to dislike the man because of his stolen parking spot. He certainly didn’t want to ask him for anything.
Regardless, he called out, “Hey, can I get a light?”
The stranger looked back at him. He didn’t immediately move as he considered the request, but finally turned away from the view to approach the picnic table.
“Here,” he said, tossing the lighter.
Iwaizumi caught it easily. He flicked it to life, singed the end of his cigarette, and tossed it back. “Thanks.”
The stranger nodded and tucked it back inside his jacket. “I’ve seen you here a few times,” he said, looking out at the water again. “You come out a lot?”
Iwaizumi shrugged and exhaled a plume of smoke through his nose. “I’ve been coming here for a couple years now, I guess. My life is too loud. I like the quiet sometimes.”
The man nodded and leaned back against the table, leather squeaking as he folded his arms. His hair was in disarray from the press of his helmet, strands scattered in all directions, pale dipped in dark ash. He pushed it back, still looking out at the distance as he said, “I’m Semi. Semi Eita.”
“Iwaizumi Hajime.”
The stranger – Semi – nodded in acknowledgment.
Iwaizumi took another drag of his cigarette and found that he didn’t dislike this man quite as much as he’d thought. Semi had parked in his spot, but he didn’t seem to be a bad guy, overall. He was polite, and he’d enabled Iwaizumi’s nicotine addiction.
Iwaizumi appreciated the quiet, but he didn’t mind the occasional conversation, either.
“I’m guessing that’s your bike out there?” said Iwaizumi, gesturing toward the trees. “The Kawasaki?”
“Yeah,” said Semi. He didn’t quite smile, but the sharp set of his eyebrows softened. “Got it a few months ago. Rides like a dream.” He eyed Iwaizumi, lingering on his time-worn leather jacket.
Iwaizumi had a nicer one, emblazoned with the name of the gang Oikawa had started up several years before, but he didn’t wear it when he was alone. Some people – namely other gangs – didn’t take kindly to the emblem.
Iwaizumi wasn’t one to turn down a fight, but even he didn’t want to find himself in the middle of an aggressive group of rival bikers with no one to have his back.
“What do you ride?” asked Semi, when it seemed he’d confirmed Iwaizumi was a biker, too.
“A Sportster.”
Semi snorted, mouth quirking to one side. “Of course you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” said Semi. He glanced at Iwaizumi again. “You just look like the type.”
Iwaizumi wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be an insult. It could easily be interpreted as one, but Semi’s tone didn’t suggest offense. Instead of jumping to an affronted conclusion, as he usually would have done, Iwaizumi simply said, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
The quirk of Semi’s mouth pulled higher. “You should. I meant it as one.”
That could have been the end of the conversation. They fell into a peaceful, natural lull, and Semi didn’t speak again.
Those could have been the last words they exchanged, and Iwaizumi could have gone on about his day as planned.
Instead he took another puff of his cigarette and said, “You from around here?”
Semi was. They were from the same prefecture, had grown up a half-hour drive from one another, and had frequented some of the same clubs and hangouts in their younger days. It was surprising they hadn’t run into each other before, but Iwaizumi knew they hadn’t. He would’ve remembered someone like Semi.
Semi laughed at something Iwaizumi said. It was low and raspy, lines crinkling from the corner of his eyes as he smiled.
Semi was attractive. Iwaizumi would go as far as to say stunning. No one could have denied it. More than that, and what really captured Iwaizumi’s attention, was that Semi looked strong; the set of his jaw, the width of his shoulders, the way he carried himself with absolute confidence. It was appealing, and Iwaizumi’s stare lingered a bit longer than he’d intended.
Semi glanced over and caught him looking, their gazes forging a link of shared heat. Iwaizumi should have looked away, but he didn’t.
It was Semi who broke the stare first. He looked out at the water one last time before stepping up on the bench and sitting on the table beside Iwaizumi.
It was a large picnic table, wide enough to seat at least four people on either side. Despite the space, Semi sat right beside him, so close that their knees touched.
Semi lit another cigarette. He took a drag and offered it to Iwaizumi, their fingers brushing as he accepted it.
“You doing anything after this?” asked Semi.
Iwaizumi inhaled a breath of smoke. His stomach lurched, but not unpleasantly. It was the sensation of sloping down a hill while riding too fast, the wind in his hair and a swoop in his gut.
He tapped off a bit of ash and passed the cigarette back. This time when his hand nudged against Semi’s, he let it linger.
“No,” he said, low and raspy from the smoke in his throat. “I’m not doing anything.”
Semi gave him a quirked smile and looked out across the water. Iwaizumi did the same, his heart kicking a little faster.
Iwaizumi wanted to take back his rude thoughts about the silver bike. It could park in his spot anytime.
They ended up at Iwaizumi’s place, standing on the doorstep of his apartment just long enough to share another cigarette.
Iwaizumi’s bike was parked in the same spot as always, between a concrete curb and his neighbor’s compact sedan. The paint was glossy black, a sharp contrast to the shiny silver Kawasaki propped up at its side.
It had been a forty-five minute ride from the overlook. Whatever tension had blossomed between them had dissolved as soon as they hit the asphalt, swept away on the wind. They’d slipped around each other on the road, Iwaizumi leading at times, Semi sliding in front of him at others, the two of them riding abreast when space and traffic allowed it. Iwaizumi didn’t fool himself into thinking he could’ve kept up with Semi if they’d truly been competing for speed. Iwaizumi’s motorcycle was fast, but Semi's was built solely for speed.
As soon as they’d arrived and dismounted, the tension had returned. Now, as Iwaizumi snuffed out the cigarette and unlocked his apartment, it reached its peak.
There was a buzz in his fingertips as he crouched to unlace his boots, and a flutter in his gut as he shrugged off his jacket, the leather a smooth slide against his skin.
There was another slide along his arm, this one warmer.
Semi’s fingers lingered at his shoulder, tracing the line of his bicep, before dropping away. He combed a hand through his own helmet-flattened hair.
“Nice place,” said Semi, giving the apartment a cursory glance before returning his attention to Iwaizumi.
“Thanks,” said Iwaizumi. He looked around too, as if he hadn’t seen it a thousand times before.
Silence lingered between them, edging toward uncomfortable. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure what to say. It was obvious why they were here. Neither of them had been very subtle about their intentions. Still, this wasn’t common practice for him. He didn’t know how to start or what to say.
Semi spared him the trouble.
Firm hands braced against Iwaizumi’s chest and his back was against the wall, caged in by strong arms and broad shoulders. Semi’s hair drooped onto his forehead, into one eye, but the other glinted like smoldering steel as he pressed close, the lines of his body strong against Iwaizumi’s.
Semi’s lips were rough from the chafe of too many cigarettes. He kissed slowly at first, almost warily, but became more insistent as their lips moved together, firm and eager. Iwaizumi licked at Semi’s mouth, tongue slipping between his lips. Semi tasted of bitter smoke and sweet desire.
Semi’s teeth snagged at Iwaizumi’s lip and he pulled back, a wash of color shading his cheeks. “Where’s your bedroom?”
Iwaizumi’s stomach swooped. Instead of answering, he sidled away from Semi and led him across the apartment, stepping through a doorway and turning on the lights.
Semi stopped just over the threshold, giving the room a quick sweep and lingering on the unmade bed against the wall. His eyes flicked back to Iwaizumi and stayed there as he slipped out of his jacket, the leather sliding through his fingers and crumpling to the floor. Without prompting, Semi’s shirt followed, ruffling his hair as he pulled it overhead, his muscles shifting beneath pale skin.
Iwaizumi had only a few fleeting seconds to scan the tattoos painting his arms before Semi’s mouth was on him again, and this time Semi didn’t let up until they were on the bed, Iwaizumi on his back and Semi stretched over him, pressed together from chest to thigh.
Iwaizumi grazed his hands over the bare skin of Semi’s back. He kneaded into firm muscle and leaned up to meet him in a kiss. Semi gripped Iwaizumi’s hip and rutted against him, the friction through their jeans both too much and not enough.
Semi propped himself up on one arm, his breath coming in warm bursts. “How do you want to do this?” he asked, eyes dipping to Iwaizumi’s lips, down to his neck, and back again.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Iwaizumi. He wrapped his hands around Semi’s biceps, dragged his fingertips along dark ink. “What’s your preference?”
“Don’t have one,” said Semi. “I’m fine with whatever.”
“Same.”
Semi’s mouth tilted into a slight smirk. He nudged against Iwaizumi’s jaw and grazed his teeth over the skin of an exposed neck. “How about I top,” said Semi, the words warm against Iwaizumi’s throat. “Since I have to ride back home after this. Might be uncomfortable otherwise.”
Iwaizumi skimmed his palms over Semi’s shoulders and down, lingering at his lower back. “Yeah, okay.”
They sealed the agreement with a taste of lips and tongue, and Semi grinded against him once more before relenting. He slid off the bed and pulled at his belt, metal clinking against metal.
“Here,” said Iwaizumi. He shuffled to the edge of the bed and then off, kneeling in the floor. He gently pushed Semi’s hands away and unhooked the belt himself before moving on to the button of his thigh-hugging jeans, dragging the zipper down with a glance up at steely eyes.
Semi’s lips were slightly parted, his pupils swelling to devour flinty irises. His hair still fell in his face, a little wild from the cage of his helmet.
Iwaizumi dug his fingers into the band of Semi’s jeans, tugging, waiting for approval. When Semi nodded, Iwaizumi pulled until the clothing bunched just above his knees, laying him bare.
Iwaizumi spread a hand on Semi’s thigh, smoothed it upward, and brushed a thumb against the base of his half-hard cock. Semi shuddered, his fingers twitching at his sides. Iwaizumi sat back on his heels and took the opportunity to look up at Semi, lingering on his full lips, his solid chest, the tattoos covering him from shoulders to wrists. When he’d looked his fill, he leaned in and took Semi into his mouth.
A hand was tight in his hair immediately, but just as quickly it loosened and pulled away. Iwaizumi groped for it, caught Semi’s fingers, and pressed them back into his own hair. It was silent yet explicit permission, and the grip went tight again as Iwaizumi hollowed his cheeks and sucked.
Iwaizumi squeezed Semi’s thighs and took his quickly hardening cock all the way to the base, his tongue pressing against the underside, flicking at the tip as he pulled back. He kept his heat tilted up, eyes locked with Semi’s as he stretched his lips around his cock until it nudged at the back of his throat.
Semi’s fingers tensed in Iwaizumi’s hair, pulling just enough to hurt, and Iwaizumi’s dick throbbed.
“Fuck, that’s good,” said Semi, his voice a low rasp. “Fuck.”
Iwaizumi swallowed around his cock, took it a little deeper, and laved his tongue around the mouthful.
Iwaizumi’s scalp stung as Semi’s jerked at his hair, pulling him off.
“Okay, that’s… yeah,” said Semi, taking a shuffling step back. He gripped the base of his cock, fingers sliding in Iwaizumi’s saliva. “Do you want to, umm… take your clothes off?”
Semi’s sturdy façade of confidence faltered, a dark blush coloring his cheeks and rising in patches along his collarbones. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure of the cause, but he didn’t want Semi to be uncomfortable. He stood and pulled his shirt over his head, catching the way Semi’s eyes immediately strayed down to skate across the exposed skin.
Iwaizumi moved on to his jeans, peeling them down his hips, soaking in the sharpness of a steely stare. When he was stripped down, Iwaizumi sat on the edge of the bed and reclined on his hands, as casually as he could manage.
“Second thoughts?” asked Iwaizumi, quirking a brow.
Semi snorted. “Definitely not.” He glanced down, lingering at Iwaizumi’s lap, before again meeting his eyes.
Iwaizumi nodded toward his bedside table and Semi took the hint. He pulled out the top drawer and kicked his jeans the rest of the way off as he combed through the contents. Iwaizumi waited patiently, eyeing the lean lines of Semi’s shoulders and thighs.
When Semi mounted the bed, he straddled Iwaizumi and curved down to kiss him. His mouth was hot, greedy, and Iwaizumi wondered if Semi could taste his own cock on Iwaizumi’s tongue.
Semi pressed his palms against Iwaizumi’s shoulders, flattened him against the bed, and nudged his ribs.
“Turn over,” said Semi, backing off long enough for him to obey.
Iwaizumi flipped onto his stomach, braced himself on his forearms, and watched Semi over his shoulder. He couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but he was familiar with the slick sound of lube. Semi leaned over him, his cock rubbing against Iwaizumi’s ass and his fingers teasing between his thighs.
Iwaizumi spread his legs a little more, a clear invitation that Semi accepted. He pressed into Iwaizumi, slow but firm, waiting for him to adjust before pushing further.
Iwaizumi exhaled and willed himself to unwind, welcoming the intrusion of Semi’s fingers, pushing back to indicate he could take more.
Semi curved over him and dragged his lips up Iwaizumi’s shoulder, leaving open-mouthed kisses against his neck. Iwaizumi tilted his head to the side, giving him room, as another finger slipped inside of him.
“You’re tight,” mumbled Semi. He spread his fingers apart and Iwaizumi squirmed beneath him. “You’re gonna feel great when you take my cock.”
Iwaizumi bunched his fists into the sheets and bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a moan. Whatever had made Semi hesitate a few moments before had clearly been resolved. He was nothing but confident now as he plunged his fingers deeper into Iwaizumi. He rutted against Iwaizumi’s thigh, leaving a damp spill of precome, and sucked at the juncture of Iwaizumi’s neck and shoulder. His teeth dug in gently and Iwaizumi again pushed back against Semi’s fingers, seeking more. His cock grazed against the sheets, the dry friction unsatisfying.
Semi spread his fingers again before pulling away, catching on the rim as he slid out. Iwaizumi fidgeted but didn’t complain.
From somewhere behind him there was the crinkle of a foil wrapper and Iwaizumi’s cock jolted in anticipation. He strained his neck to find Semi rolling on a condom and pumping himself a few times to spread more lube.
Semi grazed his hand along the back of Iwaizumi’s knee, traced up his thigh, and squeezed his ass. He mumbled something under his breath that Iwaizumi didn’t catch, then said more clearly, “How do you want it?”
Iwaizumi licked his lips, still plump from kissing, and watched Semi’s eyes follow the motion. Iwaizumi’s voice scraped low as he said, “However you want to give it to me.”
Semi looked like he’d been slapped. He blinked at Iwaizumi, eyes wide, and that low flush returned to paint his cheeks. “Fuck,” he said. He sat back and ran a hand through his hair, eyes skating to the side. “You can’t just… fuck. Say something like that.”
Iwaizumi snorted and buried his face in his forearms. “You started it.”
“Well yeah, but I didn’t think… hey, stop laughing.”
“You seem like such a badass,” said Iwaizumi, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. “Is that just an act to match the motorcycle?”
“Fuck you. I am a badass,” said Semi. The twitch of his mouth softened the words.
“Yeah? Prove it then.”
The tension between them had been broken, but now it settled on the air again, buzzing like the heat in Iwaizumi’s veins.
“Fine,” said Semi. His voice dropped, brows tucking together. “I will.”
Iwaizumi felt him move, but didn’t expect the hand that slapped across his ass. He jolted from the sudden impact, the sting making him gasp, his cock twitching against the bedsheets.
“Get on your knees,” said Semi, the command a low growl unlike his voice of a moment before.
Iwaizumi looked back and found eyes of smoldering steel beneath a demanding scowl.
But Semi’s mouth was still tilted to one side in an almost-smile, and Iwaizumi relaxed at the sight.
He pushed up onto his hands and knees, clutching twin handfuls of sheets, bracing his toes against the mattress. Semi shuffled up behind him, trailing a fingertip over the stinging patch he’d left on Iwaizumi’s ass.
Semi’s cock nudged at Iwaizumi’s balls, slick with lube. He sank his fingers inside Iwaizumi one more time, testing the stretch, before aligning himself. “Ready?”
Iwaizumi grunted an affirmative and tried to keep himself relaxed as Semi slowly pushed into him. His cock was a tighter fit than his fingers, stretching Iwaizumi to a point just short of pain. It speared him open, prompting a shudder that shook him from his hands to his shoulders to his thighs.
Semi paused for breath when he was completely inside. One hand was tight on Iwaizumi’s hip and the other smoothed up the length of his spine. He pulled back and gave a shallow, tentative thrust. “Think you’re good?”
“You don’t have to keep asking,” said Iwaizumi. He rutted back against Semi’s cock, forcing it deeper. “I’ve been fucked before.”
“I’m being courteous. Shut the fuck up.”
“That was very courteous,” said Iwaizumi.
Semi responded to the sarcasm by slamming into Iwaizumi hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. Iwaizumi braced his weight on his arms and barely kept himself from toppling onto his face.
“If that’s how it’s going to be,” said Semi, “then I won’t hold back.”
Iwaizumi opened his mouth, another snide comment on his tongue, but Semi thrust into him hard enough to make his teeth click.
He gave Iwaizumi no more time to speak. He pounded into him in a fast rhythm, hips snapping forward, pulling Iwaizumi back to meet the thrusts. His grip on Iwaizumi’s waist was almost bruising.
Iwaizumi gritted his teeth and dropped onto his elbows, again digging his fists into the sheets. The change in angle sent Semi’s next thrust into just the right spot, and a moan rumbled in Iwaizumi’s chest, low and deep.
Semi hesitated, half-buried inside of Iwaizumi, grip loosening on his waist. He slid one hand up Iwaizumi’s back, slipping in beads of sweat, and lightly wrapped his fingers around the back of his neck. There was a moment of stillness, of uncertainty. Then Semi pushed Iwaizumi down into the mattress and leaned over him, his cock sliding deeper, his weight pinning Iwaizumi in place.
He mouthed at Iwaizumi’s neck and rutted into him, his cock grinding in just the right way to send sparks dancing across Iwaizumi’s vision.
“Fuck,” said Iwaizumi, breathless from both the pulse of pleasure and Semi’s weight bearing down on him. “Keep doing that.”
Semi knotted a hand in Iwaizumi’s hair and yanked as he thrust into him.
Iwaizumi bit his lip but a moan slipped through, low and dragging and more desperate than he would have liked.
Semi grumbled a curse and dug his teeth into Iwaizumi’s shoulder; not hard enough to draw blood, but possibly hard enough to bruise.
That made Iwaizumi moan louder.
Semi worked a hand beneath Iwaizumi and wrapped rough fingers around his cock. He stroked at the same pace he fucked while his free hand stayed tight in Iwaizumi’s hair.
Iwaizumi arched into Semi’s touch, torn between thrusting into his hand and pushing back against his cock. He didn’t have much time to consider it. A spike of pleasure made him gasp and he said, “Harder. Right there, harder, fuck.”
Semi obliged, slamming into him at a perfect angle, and Iwaizumi came with a rolling moan. His cock pulsed in Semi’s hand, spraying come across his fingers and onto the sheets. He shuddered from the force of the orgasm, his head swimming and his extremities tingling.
Semi’s weight disappeared and he pulled out, leaving Iwaizumi feeling empty.
Iwaizumi took a moment to collect himself, floating down with his heartbeat pattering against his chest and his limbs too heavy. When he worked up the energy to roll onto his side, he found Semi peeling off the condom, his cock still rigid.
“Hey,” said Iwaizumi. His voice was a little hoarse, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “You could’ve finished.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Semi. “I hate being fucked after I just came. It’s uncomfortable.”
“I don’t mind it,” said Iwaizumi. He rolled completely over and propped himself up on his elbows, eyes traveling along the line of Semi’s neck, down to his broad shoulders, and then further to his toned stomach. His cock curved proudly just below it, hard and leaking.
Semi shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
Iwaizumi snorted. He gathered his knees beneath him and shuffled closer to Semi, unintentionally dragging his foot through his own come. “Sit back. I’ll take care of that for you.”
Semi licked his lips at the offer, his eyes dipping to Iwaizumi’s mouth before he settled back against the pillows at the head of the bed.
Iwaizumi crawled between Semi’s knees, nudging at his cock and receiving a shaky breath in return. He dragged his tongue across Semi’s balls, mouthed at them, and braced his hands against Semi’s inner thighs to keep him from clamping his legs shut. He flicked a glance upward to find Semi watching him with half-lidded eyes and kiss-bitten lips, his chest rising and falling with his panting breaths. His hair was messier than it had been when they’d arrived and his pupils were blown so wide that the steel of his eyes was barely there.
He looked wrecked, and Iwaizumi thrived on it.
Iwaizumi stretched his lips around Semi’s cock and sank down on it, taking the full length, bobbing back up just to slide down again. He kept one hand near the base of Semi's cock, thumbing idly at his balls, as he sucked him off.
Semi’s hips bucked beneath him. His thighs twitched and his fingers curled into the bedsheets, briefly, before he reached out to bury them in Iwaizumi’s hair instead. He tilted his head back and moaned, low and raspy. “Ahh fuck, Iwa- ah…” He thrust shallowly upward and Iwaizumi pulled back just enough to keep from choking. “Shit. I’m going to come. I’m going to – ahnnn, fuck, fuck!”
Iwaizumi gripped solid thighs and suctioned his mouth around Semi’s cock as he came. The bitter heat shot into his mouth, tickling at his throat, and he swallowed it down. He waited until Semi stopped pulsing on his tongue, a few thundering heartbeats later, before he pulled off and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Semi slouched back against the pillows, boneless. He cracked his eyes open and the two of them studied one other. They shared the same sheen of sweat and the same well-mussed hair and the same sense of warm satisfaction.
Semi’s mouth twitched and suddenly they were both smiling, a chuckle rumbling in Iwaizumi’s chest as he collapsed down beside Semi.
“Was that badass enough for you?” asked Semi, pushing his hair off of his forehead.
Iwaizumi snorted. “I’m pretty sure you only bought that bike to pretend you’re not a huge fucking dork.”
Semi’s grin was a little lopsided. “It was peer pressure. My friend insisted.”
“Yeah?” said Iwaizumi. He dragged his fingers from Semi’s shoulder to his elbow before letting his hand fall away. “What about the tattoos?”
“I can’t blame him for that,” said Semi. He held an arm out in front of him, eyeing the ink on his skin. “These were only for me.”
“They’re nice,” said Iwaizumi.
“Thanks.” Semi gave him a side glance. “Yours aren’t so bad, either.”
Iwaizumi shrugged, folding his arms just beneath the tattoos spread across his chest. They were on his arms too, but he had restricted himself to quarter sleeves to maintain the convenience of his everyday wardrobe.
“Any special meaning?” asked Semi, eyeing the dragon coiled on one side of Iwaizumi’s chest.
“My best friend is a fucking idiot who talks me into stupid shit,” said Iwaizumi. “That’s the meaning.”
Semi laughed. “Yeah, I’ve been there.”
They lapsed into a peaceful quiet, lulled into comfort by pleasant company and satisfying orgasms.
Iwaizumi had just started to doze when Semi shuffled off the bed and startled him awake. He sat up straighter to watch Semi retrieve his clothes from the floor and step back into his jeans.
Iwaizumi started to speak, but swallowed the words down before they left his lips. He wanted to tell Semi that he didn’t have to leave. He wanted to tell him that he’d had fun and he didn’t mind if Semi stayed the night.
He wanted to tell him, but he remembered what Semi had said before, about having to ride home afterward.
Semi had already been planning to leave when they were finished, and Iwaizumi shouldn’t expect anything different. It wasn’t as if they’d ended up here because of an emotional connection. This was a one-time thing, a convenient hook-up. Nothing more.
Semi pulled his shirt on, tried to flatten out some of the wrinkles, and said, “I’ll lock the door behind me. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” said Iwaizumi. He cleared his throat. He felt there was something else to be said, but wasn’t certain what it was.
Semi combed his fingers through his hair and didn’t quite look at him. “I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Iwaizumi. He sat up, but Semi was already stepping through the bedroom door. “See you.”
He listened to the thump of boots as Semi pulled his shoes on and the familiar slide of leather as he slipped into his jacket. Then the front door clicked shut, and Iwaizumi was alone.
A minute later he heard the roar of Semi’s bike in the parking lot and he sank back against the pillows with a sigh.
He’d known from the beginning this was a one-time thing. All he knew about Semi was his name and the model of bike he preferred. There were no strings attached, nothing to suggest they would even see each other again.
Iwaizumi knew that, yet he was still somehow disappointed.
He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, realizing only when he caught the smoky, earthy scent of Semi that it was the one he’d been lying on only a moment before.
Iwaizumi breathed it in, and then sat up and shook his head at his own stupidity.
They’d had good sex. That was it. Maybe they’d see each other at the overlook again and they could have a round two, or maybe they wouldn’t. It didn’t matter to Iwaizumi either way. He hardly knew Semi Eita. It made no difference to him.
And yet, their time together was all he could think about until he again drifted to sleep.