Holy moly this ended up WAY longer than I planned and a
whole lot more serious without much NSFW or even sexual tension but hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

---

She remembers him from high school, he can tell by the look
of shock on her face. He can’t really blame her though. Anyone from those days
would be surprised to see Oikawa Tooru, former pretty boy of the Abojosai
volleyball team, sporting an arm sleeve tattoo, a lip piercing and wearing
ripped jeans.

Pushing away from the wall, he approaches, stride steady, a
confident smirk on his face. But just before he meets her eyes again, a girl
interjects herself between them. Tooru’s former tendency to indulge his fans
exerts itself immediately, old habits do die hard, and by the time he’s done
with her the object of his initial focus is gone.

Clicking his tongue, Oikawa shifts his gaze over the crowded
frat house. There’s people everywhere, the semester kickoff party in high gear.
Finally, he spots her on the dance floor and goodness can she move that body!
She’s grinding up on some dude who looks about ready to cum in his pants.
Oikawa is openly staring at her, willing her to make eye contact but she’s
either completely oblivious or completely uninterested because she never once
loses her focus on her dance partner.

And Oikawa decides right then he wants that attention on
him. Sure, he’s always been a bit of an attention whore, but who could blame
him coming from the environment he did back in high school? Other than Iwaizumi
of course.

His eyes stay riveted on her, still moving fluidly, sexily,
and fuck now he’s got a tent in his pants just from watching her! Then again,
it’s been a while since Oikawa has had any action of the bedroom variety. Just
because his team is rough and tough doesn’t mean they don’t work hard.

Terushima makes certain of it.

Oikawa laughs a bit to himself thinking back on their first official
meeting. He’d only ever seen the guy at tournaments, his team loud and flashy,
but horribly erratic. Then something happened that shifted his focus and in
addition to having fun, he got smarter. His whole team got smarter.

And now he’s Oikawa’s captain.

Shaking his head, Oikawa zeroes back in on her. She’s still
dancing, smiling with sultry eyes and moving her hips just so.

She can feel his gaze on her, its intensity rippling over
her skin like electricity but she remains focused. He’s not going to have
things go his way, not tonight. Because she’s in control and he’ll just have to
deal with it. The song ends and she leans up, pecking her dance partner quickly
on the cheek. He goes to make a move but she shies away, giggling, “That
was fun, thanks for the dance,” then she’s absorbed into the crowd but not
without stealing a glance at Oikawa only to find him still looking right at
her.

Damn. Well, she almost made it without giving him a piece of
the attention he craved.

And it’s only wet his appetite for more.

The next day Oikawa is still thinking about her, her sultry
smile, her bedroom eyes. With a self-deprecating laugh, he realizes he has a
crush! An honest to goodness crush. He can’t remember the last time this has
happened, where his attention was so fully fixed on anything besides
volleyball. Practice over, he makes his way back to his dorm only to see her
sitting beneath a tree reading, her eyes narrowed in concentration at the text
before her. Calling up his best smile, Oikawa saunters towards her, only
speaking once he’s right in front of her seated position. “You know, you’re too
pretty to be frowning, you look much better dancing.”

His voice startles her and he can’t stand how cute she looks
huddled in an oversized sweater, leggings and boots. Is this really the same
girl he saw last night? It’s the perfect fall look, her hair blowing in the
sudden breeze that’s kicked up. A subtle shiver overtakes her body and he
shrugs off his jacket. “Here,” he offers draping it over her shoulders.

Warmth spreads over her body and it’s not just from the
placement of his jacket. Oikawa is looking at her with complete focus. She’d
often wondered what it would be like to have his gaze turned upon her and now,
looking at it, she’s both enamored and afraid. How could a high school crush
last this long? Or did it just flare up
quickly at the sight of him, a knee jerk reaction to Oikawa’s presence? She
realizes she should be speaking, should be saying thank you not only for the
jacket but the compliment paid her earlier but the words won’t come.

He really doesn’t remember her.

Oikawa tilts his head, a little confused as to why she still
hasn’t said anything when she suddenly shoots to a standing position. Swiftly
she removes the jacket, handing it back to him. “Thank you, Oikawa-san, but I
was just leaving. Have a good evening,” she says a bit rushed, hurrying away.

“Oi, dancer-chan!” he calls, easily catching up to and
standing in front of her. “I’m at a disadvantage here, you know my name but I
don’t know yours?”

Her eyes are on the ground, unwilling to meet his and he wonders
what he did to offend her. When she finally looks up, he flinches; her eyes are
so hard. “If my name didn’t matter to you then, why does it matter to you now?”

“Eh?”

“Never mind, I…I have to go.” She brushes past him, willing
her legs to go faster. Why did she think it was a good idea to bait him at the
party? Because she didn’t really think he’d do anything, that’s why. She just
wanted to frustrate him a little, but the fact that he stared at her the entire
time and now approached her yet again is doing uncomfortable things to her
heart. It was stupid, she’s not this person! She isn’t someone who toys with
other people! And why oh why does she even want
Oikawa? He’d be nothing but trouble, even more so now that it appears he
joined a gang or something.

---

“You barely know her, in fact, you don’t know her at all so why are you making such a big deal out of
this?” Iwaizumi yawns through his question, eyes closing as he lays on his bed,
phone to his ear. Even when separated by hundreds of miles, Oikawa somehow
finds ways to annoy him. Like calling at one in the morning to lament about how
a girl he has a crush on won’t even look at him, much less talk to him. “Looks
like you don’t always get what you
want, Trashy-kawa,” he adds with a snort.

“Shut up, Iwa-chan! You’re supposed to support me, not kick
me while I’m down!”

“Stop whining, you’re giving me a headache,” grumbles his
former ace.

Silence fills the line before Oikawa takes a deep breath.
“I…I don’t know why completely. And,” he adds quickly before Iwaizumi can shoot
another barb, “despite what you think it isn’t
because she’s playing hard to get. More like impossible to get but whatever,”
he mumbles making his best friend chuckle. “The point is,” he goes on with a
sigh, “I…I really want to get to know her but she won’t even give me a chance!”

“Oikawa, are you just pestering her? I mean, I know you
think you’re a bad ass now because you have ink and a piercing but you’re the
same alien obsessed, volleyball idiot you were in high school, the dressing’s
just different.”

“You know, sometimes I really wonder why I call you my best
friend,” Oikawa grumbles.

“I wonder that too, but the point still stands. Why the hell
did you do that shit in the first place anyway?”

Oikawa grits his teeth. How had the conversation shifted
from him getting advice (so embarrassing)
on how to get a girl to go on at least one date with him, to Iwa-chan
criticizing his choices? “Would you please stop acting like my freaking mother
and just help me out here?” he grunts.

“Fine, what have
you done?”

“I left her a couple notes, one at her job at the on-campus
bookstore and one at her dorm when I found out where she lives. You know, just,
“hey I’d like to get to know you, text me and we’ll make plans”. But she never
responds. I offer to walk to her to class but she says no. I even tried to join
a study group with her but she dropped out the next day. I just…I don’t know why
she hates me!”

Iwaizumi sits up, rubbing his eyes; there’s no way he’s getting
to sleep anytime soon. “Tooru,” he says and he can hear his friend sit up straighter,
“Have you considered the possibility that your advances, instead of being
welcomed, are putting her on edge? You said she’s changed since you first saw
her, what do you mean by that?”

“Um, well, the first time, like I told you, was at a party.
She was dancing and, just, wow Iwa-chan, she was so hot! Like, my jeans were tight enough as it is but then she started
moving those hips and-“

“TMI! Focus on the question, Shittykawa!”

“Sorry, sorry! Ok, so the second time and really every time
since then, she’s been very reserved. Like, she wears these adorably oversized
sweaters that flood past her knees with leggings and ankle boots and her hair
is always a little messy cause it’s so damn windy around here this time of
year. Oh! And she has this cute little pout when she’s really concentrating on
something and taps her pencil when she’s thinking and-“

“You realize you sound more or less like a stalker, right?”
Iwaizumi cuts in but his tone is gentler. He’s very aware now of just how much
this girl has managed to get under Oikawa’s skin. Part of him hopes something
does work out between the two of them simply so he could meet her one day and
shake her hand. A girl who got the indominable Oikawa Tooru to sound like a love-sick
puppy? This was one for the books. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whines, “was there a point to that
question?”

“Oh right. Well, maybe the reason she isn’t responding is
self-preservation.”

“What?! It’s not like I’m gonna hurt her or anything-“

“Oi! You and girls don’t have a good track record Oikawa!
You can whine about it all you want, but it’s still the truth! If she knows you
from high school, which it’s clear she does, your reputation is already set!
And it sounds like you should know her if she was that upset you didn’t
recognize her. Which is also not surprising since you always had your head
stuck on volleyball!” Iwaizumi takes in a breath, knowing his words are going to hurt his friend but he needs to hear them and it always seems to fall on his shoulders to tell him hard truths. “And look at you! You’re projecting this “bad boy” image
that is totally not who you are! But if she thinks it is, how could she not be
leery? She probably thinks you’re just toying with her! Or maybe someone placed a bet! Unfair as it is, Tooru, people do cast judgement based on appearances and past
behavior and both of yours are not doing you any favors.”

Oikawa inhales deeply, pain radiating through his chest. “Is…is
that what you really think of me, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi groans, flopping onto his back. “No, because I know your crazy ass too well. I’m
telling you all this from the perspective of someone who doesn’t know you. Just, shit,” he rolls to his side, unsure exactly
how to even help his friend, “if she doesn’t want to talk to you, maybe stop pushing
the issue? Give her some space to breathe.”

“I have! I don’t try this shit every day you know!”

“Then stop trying all together! Clearly it isn’t working so
why continue to torture yourself like this? And for what? A girl you don’t even
know?” Iwaizumi is at the end of his rope, tired of the circular formation of
this conversation.

Oikawa sits silent in the dark of his dorm, but he nods. “You’re
right, Iwa-chan. I…I just need to stop,” he finally agrees.

“Good. Ok, now, let me get some sleep asshole.”

Oikawa can’t help chuckling but before he says goodbye,
Iwaizumi adds, “And I really am sorry.”

---

It’s been weeks since she last heard from Oikawa, his
disappearance just as sudden as his appearance in her life. And though she
knows it’s the product of her own making, she can’t help feeling a bit
disappointed. Every time she believed she’d have the courage to reciprocate in
some fashion, she lost her nerve, resulting in cold shoulders and brusque push
offs of his advances. Really, she’s surprised he tried as many times as he did.

“I have no idea what’s wrong with you,” her roommate had
snapped one day after she witnessed her friend practically running away from
Oikawa,” he’s ridiculously hot and so into you, it’s a little sad. Why won’t
you go out with him?”

“I…it’s just, complicated, ok?”

“You’re just chicken shit. High school is already a lifetime
away!”

“Maybe for you but it’s still raw for me!”

Her outburst had ended the conversation never to be brought up
again.

And now here she is, the setting almost an exact copy of the
first time they’d seen each other. A party, a sorority one this time, that she’s
been drug to by overstressed and overtly horny friends looking for a cheap buzz
and a one-night stand. And there he
is, leaning against the wall, but now, instead of torn jeans and a t-shirt,
Oikawa’s sporting a button down with sleeves rolled to his elbows, black slacks
and shined shoes. The contrast of his “preppy” look coupled with the ink still
adorning his arm and the ring in his lip invariably makes him even more
attractive, a fact proven true by the swarm of girls around him. To his right,
she sees who she now knows to be his captain from the volleyball team, dressed
similarly but rougher around the edges, opting for dark wash denim jeans, tight
white t-shirt and a black button-down vest.

It really should be illegal to look so good.

“Ok everyone!” the house mother calls out. “Gather round, it’s
time to draw for…7 minutes in heaven!”

A resounding cheer from the girls goes up while the males
all smirk and chuckle, elbowing one another in gleeful anticipation.

Swallowing the remaining contents of her Solo cup, she tries
to head to the exit but her friend grabs her wrist. “Nope, you’re gonna get
something tonight, even if it’s just kissing.” Protests fall on deaf ears, her
hand shoved in the fish bowl drawing out a number.

“Alright, ladies and gents,” the house mother calls again
once the bowl is empty, “first up, number 12!”

Terushima pushes off from the wall, his movement pulling out
small appreciative gasps from the surrounding crowd of females and one of them,
a red head with cat-eye glasses, sashays up to him. He grins, taking her hand
and giving it a peck. “Shall we?” he asks gesturing to the hall closet. At her
eager nod, he pulls her in, winking at the spectators before slamming the door.

A faint moan is heard from inside followed by a ripple of
teasing taunts and catcalls being thrown at the door. Seven minutes pass and
the door is opened to reveal a thoroughly disheveled girl stumbling out while
Terushima looks smug. “Oh my god, that tongue ring,” she murmurs to her friends
who giggle.

“Next up, number 9!”

When Oikawa steps away from the wall, a collective squeal
erupts only to be dulled to disappointed murmurs when each girl realizes they aren’t
his partner. Looking around, Oikawa searches for the girl he’ll have to put up
with for…no way. And there, blushing so brightly she looks sunburned, is the
girl who’s plagued his mind, both conscious and unconscious.

Smirking, he grabs her hand. “Can’t run away now,
dancer-chan,” he whispers pulling her in and shutting the door.

Her breathing is rapid, breath fanning his chest and neck
and he can feel her shaking under his fingers. He’s not sure if it’s the dark,
the booze or both but Oikawa lets down his mask. “You don’t have to you know?
Or…I mean, you could just pretend I’m someone else, if that helps.”

Her eyes shoot to his face. His voice is so dejected she can’t
stop herself from whispering, “I…I don’t want it to be anyone else.”

That gets his
attention in a hurry. Grasping her shoulders, he murmurs, “What do you mean?”

“I…I want it to be you, Oikawa-san.”

“Time’s running out, are you still alive?” a muffled voice
calls but Oikawa ignores it. Ignores everything except the girl in front of
him.

“Explain to me one thing then, dancer-chan,” he says,
fingers toying with her hair, “if that’s true…why have you been avoiding me
this whole time?”

He can feel her trembling, the cords in her neck
constricting as she swallows nerves and steels herself. “I was…am…afraid of
letting myself really believe you wanted me. I mean, in high school-“

“Yeah,” he interjects, leaning his forearm above her head,
face inches from hers. She can feel his breath upon her face, minty of course
because Oikawa Tooru is always prepared, “what was that whole deal the second
time I saw you?”

Her eyes close despite the darkness still hiding her face. “I
tried to…to confess to you in high school. It was your third year, just before
the tournament.” She feels him flinch, memories of that loss still obviously
raw. She presses on quickly, “I brought you a bento box and some cookies and
left them in your locker with a note. But…you never responded, not even to tell
me no. I waited for you by the school gates like a fool and you never came.”

Oikawa stares hard at her face, his eyes having finally
adjusted to the dark. He has no recollection of her at all other than a visage
in a sea of faces continually vying for his attention. After a while it’s
difficult to determine one from another. But he remembers those presents.

“There was no note, dancer-chan. And even with as busy as I
was, I would not have just left you there. I may have a reputation for being an
asshole but I wouldn’t have done something so cruel,” he says lowly in her ear.

“Wha…what? I was sure…I know I put the note with it!”

He shrugs. “That may be true. Maybe it fell somewhere in my
locker or out of it when I picked up the gift. I remember it, clearly. I remember
looking around for someone watching me receive it but there was no one so I
just took it to be from a secret admirer or one of my fans and moved on.” He
touches her cheek gently, “Will you let me thank you for it now?”

Unable to find her voice, she nods. It’s all the opening Oikawa
needs, swooping down to seal his lips over hers, the taste of cherry coke and bad
vodka lingering. He licks into her mouth, her own flavor much, much sweeter making
him moan rather loudly. Her fingers clutch his shirt, knees going weak under
the ministrations of his tongue and the feel of his lip ring grazing her
sensitive flesh prompting Oikawa to draw his arm around her, pulling her to his
chest.

“Tell me your name,” he rasps.

“________,” she whimpers, lost in the feel of his touch
against the soft skin on her back.

Before time’s up, he hoists her around his waist, throwing
open the door to the shock and awe of those waiting for their turn. Locking
eyes with Terushima, Oikawa asks, “Guest room?”

His captain grins widely. “Up the stairs, turn right, third
door on the left.”

Ignoring everyone and everything around him, Oikawa surges
up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” she gasps.

His eyes shift to hers, gleaming with a predatory glow. “What
I plan on doing to you will take much, much
longer than seven minutes.”

---

I know Terushima is a
year behind Oikawa but since this is AU anyway we’ll just pretend they were in
the same grade since I find the idea of Terushima as Oikawa’s captain
hilarious.