Chapter Text
Later, Tooru will adamantly state that this was all Ushiwaka’s fault. Ushijima, as the resident winter fairy, thinks that’s absolute bullshit (and he’s not wrong), but being the polite asshole that he is, he won’t call Tooru out.
Tooru keeps running until he's absolutely positive Iwaizumi won't hear him any longer. He picks a shady spot under a random stairwell and peeks around the corner, refusing to relax until he sees Iwaizumi walk in the opposite direction towards his university.
He'd been doing so well, keeping his distance from Iwaizumi while slowly inching his way closer. (Every once in a while he can hear Suga laughing at him, but honestly Suga can shove it, because Tooru can actually see Suga's own lovesick eyes at Sawamura and it's sickening.)
Summer had been absolutely fantastic, and once Tooru had noticed Iwaizumi’s biceps, he may or may not have slightly increased the heat, revelling in Iwaizumi’s subsequent annoyance with shirts of all kinds. Tooru probably spent an alarming amount of days swooning before Suga got tired of laughing at him and pushed him to “just talk to him, for god’s sake Tooru, I’m not getting any younger here.”
So that was how Tooru had found himself in front of Iwaizumi’s apartment door, hand raised and ready to knock on a late Sunday afternoon. He had known that Iwaizumi was inside, studying at his desk because it was Iwaizumi and Tooru didn’t (and still doesn’t) know anyone more hard-working. Tooru had fixed his hair for the tenth time in just as many minutes, adjusting his clothes that he’d picked on a whim from a semi-crowded store (because despite his bizarre investment in humans and their culture, he wasn’t entirely sure what was considered fashionable these days). But fucking Ushiwaka and his goddamn wind had swept in like a frosty reminder that summer should have been over two months ago, and the next thing he knew Tooru was passed out on the floor.
By next morning, Tooru had been on the verge of stretching, just barely waking up, when he had realized with an abrupt jolt that Iwaizumi himself was on the phone and crouching a whole two goddamn inches away from Tooru’s face. When the other man leaned closer, presumably to figure out who the fuck was passed out in front of his apartment on some random morning, Tooru rolled over, praying with all his heart that it looked decently natural.
By some miracle of Tooru’s boss probably, Iwaizumi had straightened up and left, returning just a few minutes later with a jacket that he draped over Tooru’s shoulders. His hands clumsily shifted the jacket around, and Tooru squirmed more with every passing second. Once morning had come and the sun was up again, Tooru hadn’t actually been all that cold, and the jacket combined with the proximity of Iwaizumi just made Tooru itch with the urge to do something.
“I-!”
Tooru shot upright, mouth open ready to introduce himself, confess his crush, kiss Iwaizumi, anything to escape.
Iwaizumi had stared back at him, unblinking and blank with surprise.
“Bye!” Tooru had squeaked, forcing a pinched grin and fleeing the scene.
Which brings Tooru back to his current predicament, having stood up and bolted as fast as he could, with minimal amounts of screaming and crashing as he ran from Iwaizumi’s apartment.
“Suga,” he hisses at his friend, who has somehow appeared next to him just in time to laugh in his face. “Suga what do I do?!”
“Well I mean,” Suga says with a sparkle in his eye and oh lord, that is never a good sign. “You could always just, you know, talk to him.”
“Me?” Tooru screeches, pressing a hand to his chest feigning shock. Iwaizumi, by now, is a block away, heading towards his university. Not that Tooru knows where that is, of course.
“Oikawa, just go talk to him. Use that cheesy bravado that seems to work so well on all the girls.” Suga nudges him with his shoulder in the direction that Iwaizumi went, and Tooru lets his shoulders sag.
“Whether or not you want to talk to him, you should at least explain this morning,” Suga adds thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his chin. “Looks like you might have to thank Ushijima after all.”
Tooru bristles. “Hell no,” he says, scrunching up his nose in disgust.
Suga stares at him with a grin that Tooru recognizes all too well. He’s seen it work wonders on Sawamura. “Look, you can either go embarrass yourself in front of your second-grade crush, or you can apologize to Ushijima for wasting this opportunity he’s given you. What’s the worst that could happen? You’ve already been stalking him for the past two months, might as well make something of all that effort.”
For all that he loves Suga, Tooru does not trust a single word coming from his friend’s mouth. If this was just a matter of another summer fling (which, ha you are not nearly as funny as you think you are, Sawamura), he doesn’t doubt that he would’ve been all over Iwaizumi weeks ago. From the very beginning, that was all Iwaizumi was ever supposed to be. Tooru had been planning and counting on finding someone to chase after for the first month of summer, heavily flirt with during the second month of summer, and possibly sleep with in the third month, just in time for autumn to roll around and for Tooru to bid goodbye. He has a tried and true formula, and he had been so damn close to sticking with it.
Tooru didn’t think that he would ever be this stupid over one person, but here he is all the same, unable to bring himself to head in Iwaizumi’s direction.
He sighs and peeks around the corner again, though Iwaizumi has long since been out of eyesight.
Suga pats him on the shoulder, gentle smile on his face. “Wanna brainstorm shitty background stories for you on our way to the university?”