The argument with Oikawa had been circling for what felt like hours—sharp words bouncing back and forth, neither of you willing to give ground. His brown eyes glittered with that infuriating mix of arrogance and vulnerability, the same look that made you want to both kiss him and strangle him.

Your chest rose and fell as silence finally slipped between the two of you, heavy and heated. He moved first. In a blur, Oikawa stepped forward, pressing you back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You fell against it, and he followed, caging you beneath him.

His hand slid down your wrist, pinning it to the sheets as his knee nudged between your legs, spreading you without hesitation. His lips hovered a breath away, voice low, roughened by frustration but edged with desire.

“Let’s settle here like adults.”

You barely had time to protest before his mouth claimed yours. The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was all teeth and heat, fueled by everything you’d just fought over. His tongue swept in, silencing the last of your anger, replacing it with a fire you couldn’t fight against.

His weight pressed you deeper into the mattress, every inch of him demanding your attention. Fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer despite yourself. The kiss deepened, turned desperate, until it was less about winning and more about surrendering—to him, to the moment, to the messy way love and rage always seemed to blur between you.

The argument was long forgotten. The only thing that mattered was Oikawa’s lips on yours, his breath hot against your skin, and the way your body ached for every inch of him.