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Though no one knows how or why, at midnight on a person’s 16th birthday, they get writing on their wrist, almost like a tattoo. This writing, whatever it says, has something to do with your soulmate. It’s usually something like the first thing they say to you after it appears, or an inside joke you two will have, maybe a phrase they say a lot. Simply a push in the right direction, fate’s little nudge-nudge wink-wink about what future you have in store.
Oikawa lived the typical, decent college life. He was thrilled when he and Iwaizumi learned that they would be going to the same college together, so of course they immediately roomed with each other. Thus, enter the bantering about of who does the dishes one night and the power studying through the next with ample amounts of coffee and rallying each other through the monotonous part of their major’s required coursework. Nothing much had changed there.
But with the new chapter in their lives came new friends and new people, and for once they began to have friends that were not in the same social circles. Not a bad thing at all, just a change. But the friends all got along with both people in their natural pair, so it was always a good time.
Oikawa had run into Sugawara one day at the grocery store after running out of cereal, and though he had no immediate need to get said cereal, he felt his foot falling asleep and promptly decided that if he didn’t get out of their tiny apartment soon, he would probably explode. Sugawara had spotted him and walked over with a cheery smile and kind attitude, and while Oikawa was wary at first (old wounds tend to fester with his personality), he quickly warmed up to the fellow setter. They exchanged numbers and soon they were study buddies of some sort.
Oikawa particularly enjoyed it because Suga, as sunshine and rainbows as he made himself out to be, was a terrible gossip and under that sweet as sugar exterior had a sharp tongue and a snarky streak a mile wide. Plenty of afternoons were spent in the library filled with hushed whispers and gasps about who had slept with who, who had gotten drunk off of their ass, and which student teachers were unfairly attractive. Of course, this wasn’t all they did - both were quite studious when they set their minds to it, so study sessions were organized meticulously and very helpful.
Iwaizumi got along well with him, too. Together, they relentlessly cared about Oikawa, monitoring his activities when they thought he might be slipping into unhealthy habits again. The bond had started when Suga had come over to cram for a large test that they both had in a few days, only to find Iwaizumi sighing over a passed-out Oikawa. Notes and books were strewn around the brunette in a frenzy, three empty mugs were in a five-foot vicinity of him, and he was lightly snoring in the middle of it all.
“How had he survived this long?” Suga gasped, looking at the mess before him in a mixture of mild awe, and terror. Iwaizumi had turned to him with a haunted expression, one that had clearly seen this occur one too many times.
“Me.” Iwaizumi had sighed, and they two had cleaned up the mess and bonded over how worried they tended to get over their friends. Thus, Suga had passed Iwaizumi’s test, and became Oikawa’s closest University friend.
Iwaizumi was a bit different, in that regard. He naturally gravitated towards the quieter, more studious types, but tended to achieve friendship with exact opposites because of how often he went to the gym. Not to say that this was anything bad, but Oikawa found it highly ironic.
One day, Iwaizumi came back covered in sweat and with a highly puzzled expression on his face as he slung his gym bag down and went to grab some water from the fridge. Oikawa, lounging on the couch, waited patiently as Iwaizumi sat down with him, not even having to ask before Iwaizumi launched into an explanation of sorts - perks of being friends for over a decade.
“These guys keep on wanting me to spot for them,” His eyebrows were pinched together as he spoke, confusion clear in his tone. Oikawa looked around before making a ‘go on’ motion with his hands.
“They’re like an amped-up Hanamaki and Matsukawa, in a way. Kinda bro-y, but not in a frathouse way. They’re nice.” Iwaizumi continued at his prodding, picking at his nails absentmindedly.
“So you made gym friends? That’s good, I don’t see the problem here.” Oikawa deadpanned, wiggling his socked feet as he shifted on the couch to fully look at his friend.
“I don’t want them to be gym-friends, I want them to be friends.” Iwaizumi replied simply, and that was all it took for Oikawa to understand. Most of Iwaizumi’s good friends had been naturally made through volleyball and team energies, or through Oikawa. He wasn’t used to initiating a friendship, he hadn’t done so in years and years. And Oikawa was the most social person he knew.
“Then invite them over for a post-workout whatever the hell you do, or just to watch a movie or something. And do it while I’m here, it puts less pressure on making conversation with solely you all the time.” Oikawa recommended with a small little smile. Iwaizumi was branching out, and he was proud of him.
“Or you want to meet them and interrogate them like a father would with his daughter’s new boyfriend.” Iwaizumi accused with a little smirk, and Oikawa shrugged shamelessly because he couldn’t exactly deny that.
The next day, three sweaty bodies came into their apartment instead of the usual one, marking when Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutarou became a more regular part of Oikawa’s life with their loud laughter, boyish schemes, and large grins that spread from ear to ear.
Kuroo was more sly, with witty remarks and intelligent side comments being all but trademarked with him, while Bokuto was more of a unharnessed force of nature in himself. The brunette was slightly terrified to think about what he would be like if he had coffee. The two were soulmates as well, but were never overly showy about it. Oikawa liked them, but the real test came when he asked them why they approached Iwaizumi.
“Oh! I always spotted him when we came to the gym, and he always looked so dark and brooding and alone so I wanted to say hi.” Bokuto explained, looking at Kuroo for confirmation, to which his boyfriend nodded.
“We thought his reps were impressive and he was a good guy, so we kept it up, and now here we are.” Kuroo finished, and Oikawa nodded. They had passed, and slowly but surely became more frequent visitors to their tiny apartment. It was the kind of thing that happened so seamlessly that it was unnoticeable until someone pointed it out one day and you went ‘Huh. I guess you’re right.’
“They grow on you,” Oikawa had commented fondly one day to Iwaizumi as the other two were rambling on about something or other that was most likely unimportant to everyday life. “Like fungus.”
“That sounds familiar.” Iwaizumi had snorted, giving him a meaningful look. Cue the indignant squawk, flicks on the forehead, and the nostalgic fuzzy feeling in his chest of the old and the new melding together perfectly.
So all in all, University life was going great. Oikawa had Iwaizumi, he had Suga, he had Bokuto and Kuroo. He had good grades, he had nice teachers, and life was going as smoothly as a college student’s could. He had started a new semester of Biology, so it was a whole class of new people of whose names he would maybe remember three. That was when he saw him come in.
The prettiest man he had ever seen in his life.
And he didn’t say that lightly, mind you. As vain as it may be to some, he took great care when it came to his appearance, styling his hair and occasionally putting on some makeup if he felt like it. A goal of his in his freshman year was to be so androgynously pretty, that he would make people question their sexuality (a goal that he had no doubt achieved), and while he preferred now to wear more masculine clothing, he still put on some mascara occasionally. He wanted to look put together, as to put his best foot forward. He considered himself to be a very pretty man. And for goodness sakes, he was friends with Sugawara Koushi, who looked like he was a halo and wings short of a literal angel!
But with this guy, he was floored.
He was the natural kind of pretty, the kind that happened with little to no effort. Simple and elegant, he walked in with just a simple white t-shirt, dark wash jeans and converse but he still looked like he could be modeling the newest summer look. His pale skin almost shimmered in the afternoon sunlight that streamed through the windows, and he carried himself with a lazy sort of grace. Dark tousled locks laid imperfectly-perfectly atop his head, and green eyes scanned the room in vague interest.
They still had a bit of time before the lecture started, so the brunette casually got out his phone and texted Suga as quickly as humanly possible.
>> KOU-CHAN
>> KOU-CHAN I THINK I’M DYING
>> HAVE IWA-CHAN PLAN MY FUNERAL
What have you done this time, Tooru? <<
>> this is harassment
<3 <<
>> THE PRETTIEST MAN I HAVE EVER SEEN JUST WALKED INTO MY CLASS AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
>> HE’S PRETTIER THAN /ME/ KOU-CHAN
Damn <<
Prettier than me tho??? <<
>> *sigh* Y E S
Wow he’s pretty attractive then <<
Get in his pants <<
>> KOU-CHAN TACT
Where? I see none when I look at you :) <<
>> STOP ROASTING AND /HELP ME/
But this is so much more funnnn <<
Send pics <<
>> send nudes
Touche <<
>> gimme like two seconds
Oikawa looked up from his phone with a slight sigh only to hear the scraping of a chair in the desk beside him, and oh. Oh no. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, because Perfect Stranger was sitting next to him now and he was even prettier up close. He turned back to his phone with wide eyes
>> HE’S SITTING NEXT TO ME THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT HE IS SITTING NEXT TO ME
>> I’M POSSIBLY HYPERVENTILATING
LMAO R I P <<
SENDPICSSENDPICSSENDPICS <<
>> (attached image)
OH MY FUCKING GOD <<
I KNOW HIM <<
>> Y O U W H A T
Yeah, that’s Akaashi Keiji! <<
He was vice captain of Fukurodani, we went to a couple of training camps together <<
>> Fukurodani
>> As in
>> The school that Bokuto was captain of?????
Yeah???? <<
>> Bokuto went to school
>> with the prettiest man ALIVE
>> AND HE DIDN’T THINK TO MENTION THIS TO ME
You didn’t exactly ask <<
He’s nice, pretty soft-spoken from what I remember <<
He’s a setter ;))))) <<
>> FUCK MY LIFE
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Iwaizumi, Kuroo, and Bokuto returned from the gym later that day to find Oikawa lying on the couch, possibly comatose as he stared at the wall.
“Earth to space geek?” Kuroo had called with a lazy smirk, causing a few blinks as brown eyes focused enough to look at the three new people in the apartment.
“Over and out, owl fucker,” Oikawa retorted with a playful vigor, his eyes narrowing slightly as Kuroo snickered. “Speaking of owls - Bokuto, why the hell did you not mention that your vice captain was the prettiest person that I have ever goddamn seen?” He exclaimed, causing said owl to pop his head out from the kitchen.
“What, you mean ‘Kaashi? He’s super pretty, yeah!” He agreed, and Kuroo started to guffaw. After catching the strange look Oikawa was giving him, his trademark smirk made its way onto his lips between his horrible, hyena-like laughter.
“Sorry, running thing I had in high school, gotta tell Kenma about this-” Kuroo managed to wheeze, and Bokuto grinned as well as he and Iwaizumi padded in from the kitchen.
“I’ll explain - I’m pretty sure that not a single guy who’s met Akaashi has not fallen for him at least a little bit. Like, I swear it’s a thing.” Bokuto started with wide eyes.
“Like Kiyoko, the old manager from Karasuno.” Kuroo interjected, and Iwaizumi gave a hum of understanding.
“-Yeah, like her. I had my gay crisis because of him, not gonna lie,” Bokuto laughed without a hint of shame in his body. “But that was before I met Kuroo, and he was more of a great friend, anyways. We still hang out a lot, did you not meet him at my birthday party?”
“I had a cold, I didn’t come.” Oikawa said after a moment of thought.
“Right, right,” Kuroo nodded. “He’s never dated anyone, though, so good luck with that.” He added on, and admittedly Oikawa’s hopes fell for a bit.
“Okay hold on, just how attractive is this Akaashi guy?” Iwaizumi interjected, clearly interested since it wasn’t every day Oikawa showed this much interest in a guy, and he never put them above him in a scale of attractiveness. Bokuto whipped out his phone and showed a picture of, sure enough, him and Akaashi next to a statue of some sort. Iwaizumi whistled. “Okay, very.”
“I’m going to die, he sat next to me in class today. I’m going to see that every day.” Oikawa moaned, and Kuroo rolled his eyes.
“You’re such a drama queen, I swear. We could introduce you, if you want.” Kuroo offered, but Oikawa shook his head.
“Talking to him isn’t the problem, it’s that it’ll be harder to focus.” Oikawa pouted, but Iwaizumi sighed in exasperation and flicked him on the head - a familiar feeling that never lost the irritation factor from either party.
“Just talk to him, then. If you get to know him, then maybe it’ll normalize him and neutralize his effect.” Iwaizumi suggested, and after the brunette huffed indignantly, his eyes slid to the side in defeat.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad plan, I guess.” He twirled his hair in one finger absentmindedly, his aloof tone a sign of unspoken victory for Iwaizumi.
“... Hey, Kuroo, remember when Akaashi wore a dress to Kenma’s birthday?”
“Oh, yeah!”
“I hate you all.”
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The next day, Oikawa arrived earlier to class, because his seat last time was too far for him to see the board properly without his glasses. The lecture room was way less full this time, so he went to get his favorite seat in these classroom layouts - smack dab in the middle of the front row section - when he saw someone sitting next to his desired spot. And of course, that someone was Akaashi Keiji.
After a moment of pure shock rolling through him, Oikawa shook it off and hopped up the stairs chipperly, walking right up to the pretty man and shooting him a dazzling smile. First impressions and all, right?
“Hi, is this seat taken? I need to sit closer to the board, I hope you don’t mind.” Oikawa said politely, watching as the other lifted his head from the book he was reading and looked at him with what Oikawa could only describe as disbelief, but not in a negative way? Those slate eyes were ensnaring, dark thundercloud that rolled over the sky and loomed over at the brunette. A tiny smile flitted across Akaashi’s features.
“Of course not, they’re not assigned, anyways. By all means.” Akaashi invited, his melodic tone sweeping over Oikawa and causing his eyes to widen. Those words were all too familiar to him - they were the swirly, delicate gold letters that had been tattooed on his wrist since his sixteenth birthday. Pink lips formed a perfect little ‘o’, and Akaashi’s smile widened further. Almost robotically, Oikawa sat down and put his stuff to the side before returning to Akaashi, awe being replaced with a bright smile.
“So, we’re soulmates, then. I’m Oikawa Tooru, nice to meet you.” Oikawa introduced himself, internally awestruck but maintaining his cool outward appearance as to not drool over his soulmate.
“Akaashi Keiji, it’s nice to meet you, Oikawa… Your name sounds familiar. Do you by chance know Bokuto Koutarou?” Akaashi asked, cocking his head slightly.
“Who doesn’t?” Oikawa laughed, but he nodded afterwards. “Yeah, he and Kuroo are friends with my roommate, Iwaizumi.”
“That would explain it, then. He talks about Iwaizumi often, and you as well,” Akaashi said with a light smile, and Oikawa just about melted. Too soon, the professor entered the lecture hall and began class. “Ah. We can discuss this later, maybe after class?”
“We could get coffee, I don’t have anything after.” Oikawa offered, and with a nod of agreement, the two turned their attention to the teacher.
Well, almost… more than a few glances were thrown the other’s way, and when their eyes met, they both smiled. They knew that their future together would be bright.
Epilogue:
“You were never supposed to see those.” Akaashi intoned with a seeping distaste in his tone, staring daggers into the cardboard box that his mother had dropped off while he was at work. Oikawa, however, was far too busy laughing his ass off at the contents of the box. What was in it, one might ask?
Baby pictures.
Pictures of Akaashi in a onesie and dark hair. Specifically, a very chubby, very disgruntled toddler Akaashi. They only got better - he was fairly certain there wasn’t a single one where he was smiling. His hair was unruly and his freckles were far more prominent from playing out in the sun. Round glasses adorned his face as he grew up - there were pictures from first grade and elementary school, as well. It was adorable and hilarious, but it gave Oikawa such an appreciation for Akaashi’s glow up, because holy shit.
“You- You look grumpy and adorable!” Oikawa crowed, his eyes alight with mirth and laughter as he fell over on the couch. Akaashi was quick to snatch the box away, embarrassment coloring his cheeks as a frown danced across his lips.
“You’re never seeing these again.” He deadpanned, about to take them away before Oikawa’s eyes widened.
“Wait, wait- Can I keep one? Please? I already know which one.” Oikawa asked pleadingly, all traces of laughter gone except for the smile that was still on his face. Pausing for a moment, Akaashi sighed and once again fell victim to that charming smile, rolling his eyes fondly and setting down the box.
“One. And I need to give approval.” Akaashi allowed, and Oikawa absolutely lit up, digging through the box for only a moment before he pulled out a photo.
The picture he chose was Akaashi smiling with another kid, whose smile in contrast looked like it could light up an entire city block. Though his hair was jet black and not dyed or spiked to high hell like Oikawa was used to it being, this was most definitely Bokuto. They were both in front of a middle school, and Bokuto’s arm was slung easily around Akaashi’s shoulders. Akaashi was clearly hesitant to smile, maybe because of his braces- in the early stages of them clearly, since his front teeth were way farther apart- but it was genuine nonetheless and Oikawa loved it. Upon seeing it, Akaashi’s eyes softened and he nodded.
“Alright. That one’s fine,” Akaashi said, pressing a quick kiss to Oikawa’s forehead. “But don’t think you’ve heard the end of this.”
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The moment Iwaizumi showed up with a large, family photo album, Oikawa knew he was done for.
“No no no-” He had started, but it was too late. Iwaizumi had ducked under his arm and walked so casually into the apartment. He sat down next to Akaashi, who was sipping his green tea with such a light innocence that it was suspicious.
“Lovely to see you again, Iwaizumi-san.” Akaashi greeted politely, but there was a little flicker of something in his voice. Smugness.
“You too, Akaashi. Oikawa’s mom says hello, and that you two should visit again soon.” Iwaizumi replied back neutrally, but there was that same flicker in his voice. It was way more obvious with him, and Oikawa wasn’t about to let this happen.
“Don’t look through that!” Oikawa yelped, slamming the door belatedly and running over, but it was too late. Akaashi had looked him directly in the eye and flipped open to a random page.
There were a few pictures on the page, which was clearly worn with age and use. There was one with a tiny baby, wrinkly and small with big brown eyes and splotches of light freckles dotting his cheeks. One was of toddler Iwaizumi and Oikawa playing together on a picnic blanket, their eyes wide and bright as they were both caught mid-laugh. One was taken in a darker place- a planetarium, Akaashi assumed- and there was an elementary-school age Oikawa with stars in his eyes in more ways than one. His hair was longer, shaggier and unkempt, with thick frames in his face. He retained a lot of the baby fat in his cheeks, but Akaashi just thought it made his toothy, crooked smile even sweeter.
“You look cute.” Akaashi murmured with soft eyes, to which Oikawa’s face fell slack. Not a trace of passive-aggressive mockery (it was how Akaashi showed his less savory emotions) that he had expected to hear was in that tone.
“Oh.” Was the tiny sound that managed to pass through Oikawa’s lips, much to Iwaizumi’s pleasure.
“Told you it’d be fine.” He huffed to Oikawa, who had called a few days prior to beg for Iwaizumi to keep out of this one. It didn’t turn out well for him.
“Tooru, can I keep one as well?” Akaashi asked as he flipped through the book and examined the photos with a light smile.
“I- just-” Oikawa sighed in defeat. “Yeah, you can. Same rules, though, I have to look.”
Without another moment of hesitation, Akaashi pointed to a photo in the middle of the book. It was right after Oikawa had won the ‘setter of the year’ award in middle school, and he looked so genuinely happy. He was holding up the award in front of him with his mom posing next to him as well. But that wasn’t why Akaashi chose it- it was because there was a light shining in his eyes that Akaashi was unchangeably drawn to. Oikawa looked down at it and stopped for a moment.
“You can keep that one.” Oikawa allowed with a haughty sniff, but he and Akaashi both knew that he was secretly pleased.
Neither of them knew just how many photo albums they would have in the future, but they just knew that this was a wonderful start.