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‘Stay hydrated!’ says the note plastered on a bottle of water left on the counter.
Oikawa shrugs and sinks it deep in his bag before leaving the flat.
On his way to the station he stops by a sweets shop to buy a box of her mother’s favourite rice cakes – his eyes linger on the weird spicy curry-chocolate cookies Sugawara said he liked. His mind wanders off, he ponders whether to buy some, even if they would end up broken into fine powder by the time he returns home.
“Sir?” he hears the cashier asking. “Anything else?” He turns to her flustered, opening his wallet to pay.
“No, thank you. Or you know what, I would like to have one of those too.”
“Yes, sir. It will be…”
Oikawa pays and grabs the box of sweets without waiting for the girl to wrap it up nicely.
Once on the bus, seated in the last row, he starts shaking his leg unconsciously. Listening to music he looks out the window – the passing cityscape barely registers in his brain.
He is all nerves, unable to relax since the moment he has awaken with the other side of the bed almost cold, sheets left tangled and Sugawara’s scent still lingering.
He is off to visit his parents.
*
“What should I tell to my mom, Suga-chan?”
“About what?”
“Last time we spoke, she made comments on how I didn’t bring a girl home since high school.”
Suga raised a brow, curious.
“It shouldn’t be so hard, should it? You either admit finally that you got accustomed to blowjobs or continue lying that you are currently single.”
*
The station looks the same as he remembered – but not the boy, standing tall and lanky by the schedules, waiting for him.
“Just how much do you plan to grow still, Takeru?” Oikawa asks as his nephew greets him with a bone crushing hug.
“I’m not that much taller than you, Tooru.”
“But I’m already quite tall myself.”
“Are you jealous, uncle?”
“I might be. So what?”
“Your personality is just as rotten as ever. No wonder you are called Shittykawa by Iwaizumi-san…”
“Oh, Iwa-chan? When did you two get close?”
“He is the coach of my team,” the boy rolls his eyes, puffing the back of his jacket up to showcase the mint coloured “AOBA JOUSAI” label on its back.
Familiar, yet new.
“I am the ace now,” Takeru grins.
“I’ll believe it if I see it.”
“Come to our matches then! Inter-high prelims start next month!”
“Will keep it in mind. But now that you mention; I haven’t seen my jacket in a while.”
“Because I stole it. Back in middle school.”
“How come I’ve never noticed?” asks Oikawa scandalized.
“Maybe, because you’ve been wearing that black one for a while, the one that’s a bit tight?” Takeru smirks.
Oikawa’s heart stops, the blood freezes in his veins. If ever air existed in his lungs, it’s squeezed out, sharply, forcefully, leaving him breathless and empty.
“Oh my, did I shock you? You must’ve thought you were careful,” Takeru continues nonchalantly. “You’re not senile, uncle, but rather naïve…”
“Tell me ‘bout it,” Oikawa mumbles. “Who are you and what did you do with my cute little nephew?”
“Iwaizumi-san had some friends from the Karasuno Neighbourhood Volleyball Association coming this once to a practice match, and there was this guy…”
*
“Suga-chan?” Oikawa croaked into the phone.
“What?” came the reply, relaxed as ever.
“Change of plans. You can’t come over today.”
“Why?”
“My sis popped in and she brought my nephew along. You’re not allowed near Takeru.”
“Why?”
“You would taint him and plant all kind of dirty thoughts in his mind.”
“Tooru, he is a child!”
“I didn’t mean it that way. But you could teach him how to tease people…”
*
“I’m appalled,” Oikawa says, walking ahead of his nephew to push the door open.
“I didn’t tell anyone, if that’s what bothers you” Takeru assures. “But don’t you think it’s about damn time?”
“Respect, Takeru, when did you lose it?”
“Maybe when you asked me to take your picture with your kouhai bowing before you?”
“Now that was ages ago!”
“Your relationship started ages ago, too,” Takeru points out as they cross the house to reach the back garden, where the other members of the Oikawa family have gathered.
Oikawa stops abruptly, Takeru bumping in him hard.
“Ouch.”
“Did Suga-ch… Sugawara tell you that he thinks it’s time I tell my family?”
“Why, how long do you want to hide it?”
“Did he mention it?” Oikawa turns, and be Takeru taller, he still stumbles back from the fire in his uncle’s eyes. “Did he seem to be unhappy?”
“He didn’t say a thing,” the boy pushes him from the way, crossing to the garden. “It was purely my opinion that you’re a coward.”
*
“Your father asked me if my intentions were pure.”
Sugawara spit his milkshake.
“He asked what?”
“He wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t use you only to…” Oikawa turned bright red, hiding his face behind his fries. “I’m pretty sure I’ve left the wrong impression, if only he knew it’s not me who’s…”
“I don’t ever plan to share the details of my love life with my father, especially not the delicate ones,” Sugawara hissed through his teeth.
“I know, I know, I didn’t mean it that way…”
“So? What did you tell him?”
“What could I?” Oikawa looked up, miserable. He was not willing to tell – Sugawara was not willing to guess.
“What could you?” he asked, his warm eyes unwavering. Oikawa wished he could be so shameless, bold and honest as Sugawara. Yet, he blushed, as every time Sugawara asked him so openly.
“I… I told him that he has nothing to worry about and that I pursue his son with my utmost honest feelings.”
“You pursue me?” Sugawara snorted. “As far as I know, you are more prone to run away…”
“That was one time.”
“The morning after karaoke. The graduation ceremony. That time when my mom arrived home early. That elective lecture we both took in first year. That time when you went drinking with Iwaizumi, or oh, what happened when your parents came visiting?”
“Okay, enough. I didn’t think you were the type to bring up the things you hold against someone in a fight.”
“I’m not holding a thing against you, and this is not a fight. I’m just reminding you of how things are.”
*
“So tell me, Tooru, how are things in the city?”
“Same as ever, mom. I’m busy with work.”
“Aaand?”
“And?”
“Any dates?” his mom pushes, face glowing in anticipation.
“There’s no way anyone would date this guy,” Takeru cuts in snarky,
“In case you didn’t know, Tooru has always been popular,” says Oikawa’s sister, grimacing at his son over the table. “Much more than you will ever be.”
“May I have some more rice?” their father asks, closing the topic. Oikawa sends a silent, thankful glance at him.
It’s not the first time this has come up. It’s not even surprising, really.
He just… has no idea how to answer.
*
Oikawa sometimes wondered just how much Sugawara’s personality was effected by his clash with Kageyama over the setter position in his last year of high school. As soft as he looked, he was as strong, carrying all his burden with dignity.
In some sense, Oikawa was the opposite – running often on pride and spite alone, he was a fragile soul behind a firm façade, ready to break at the smallest friction. He was so good at acting cool, so good at playing perfect – yet so bad at admitting his weaknesses, so bad at giving up or giving in. He could pursue his dreams to hell and back, but couldn’t face the boy he loved. Not when he couldn’t unsee the rival in Sugawara.
“Would you please, for once, face me directly?” Sugawara begged for his eyes, but Oikawa glared at his hands, fiddling with a dirty band aid on his pinky.
Sugawara was what he aspired to be; a fearless man. He never had problems facing his family head on; telling his father whom he loved or what he wanted to do.
“Just how long will you keep lying?”
Honesty required a kind of bravery he was not accustomed to, the type where he could have fallen, torn into bits and burned if failed.
“Tooru, I’m afraid. I don’t know if I can do this any longer.”
“I… I’m sorry?” Oikawa offered. He sounded empty. He knew he sounded empty and he hated himself for it.
“It’s embarrassing to be a hidden lover. It feels like you are ashamed to introduce me to your family.”
“I’m not!”
“Really? Then, what’s preventing you from telling them?”
*
“Something on your mind?” his sister plops down next to him, beers in hand.
“I got in a fight with Takeru.”
“Not that surprising. He’s in that age, you know? He thinks he can solve everyone’s life problems, and gets highly offended when you tell him it’s not that easy…”
“Hm.”
“He thought you won’t come alone.”
Oikawa snorts out his beer through his nose.
“Actually we all thought,” his sister continues, leaning back on her chair.
“I’m single.”
“Dare look at me in the eye and repeat it,” she snarls. There is a unique tone to her voice, a tone that has made Oikawa obey to her ever since they were kids, the tone she used whenever she caught him red-handed.
They stare at each other for a while – black eyes searching a pair of brown, one inheriting their father’s strict glare, the other their mother’s beautiful iris – then, without his sister speaking up, Oikawa breaks.
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
There’s something in his sister’s expression. Something he knows, but he can’t seem to get a grasp on.
“I thought the same when I realized that Takeru was on the way,” she says sipping her beer. “But you know, if I waited until I was ready, I would probably have never had kids.”
Something he has seen many times, but never openly directed at him.
“No one is ready, ever.”
A hint of pity.
*
“I reached my limit,” Sugawara said, voice strangely flat. “I’ve reached my limit ages ago, yet here I am. Do you have any idea how pathetic it feels when you are taken for granted? Or how much you start to hate yourself when you realize that you really forgive everything all the time?”
*
Oikawa glares at the beer in his hand.
He is reminded of the water bottle, left attentively on the counter. Sugawara has always looked out for him – even when they were fighting.
A single thought crashes his mind – it works better than his mother’s nagging, his nephew’s lecturing or his sister’s words to make him feel guilty.
What has he done for Suga-chan?
.
He is reminded of their all-nighters during university, digging deep into the books until the break of down – until they both got glasses for life.
..
He is reminded of the times Suga has fallen ill – he has been seriously weak against seasonal colds. How he treated him back to good health, mocking him how their roles have swapped, the aspiring doctor being the problematic patient.
…
He is reminded of Suga’s smell, his smile, his terrible puns and his casual cruel jokes. He is reminded of how many times he was at the verge of losing it all, thanks to his cowardice.
“You know I live with this guy,” he starts, not looking at his sister at all. “He’s called Sugawara. We share the rent.”
There’s a tangible pause – Oikawa can feel 4 pairs of eyes on him.
“We share many other things too.”
Now that he started speaking, the words – though sounding awkward – come easy. He glares at his beer, at the droplets of dew on the surface of the cold glass, and he sees his own reflection, ugly and distorted – truly representing how he feels.
“He is a medic, an intern at the hospital near our flat. He can be insufferable sometimes, but in general, he is way too good for me.”
He takes a deep breath, ready to not breathe anymore at all. Honesty takes a toll on his body – it’s heavy, but at the same time, deliberating.
“We’ve been together since high school.”
He doesn’t dare to look up to see their reactions. Even now, he is a coward – the court being the only place where he knows no retreat.
Panic rises in his throat and sharpens his senses. He can hear his mother’s sharp inhale, his sisters small shriek (it’s almost a chuckle), he can feel Takeru stepping closer.
His father is the first one to talk.
“It took you five years to crawl out of the closet, huh?”
Oikawa snaps his head up in a movement so sharp his neck hurts to meet his father’s deep dark eyes. His old man smiles at him mockingly.
“I’ve always told your mother that she only makes it worse with her constant nagging, but she would never listen to me.”
“But it was painful to watch!” Oikawa’s mother cuts in. “I just wanted to give him a push…”
Oikawa stares at the members of his family – his vexed mom, angry at his father; his animated father, arguing kindly but firmly against all the points of his mother’s; his amused sister, secretly sipping her beer; his bemused nephew, glance jumping from one another.
At least that last one he can relate to.
“You knew?” he asks.
“You knew?” Takeru asks, simultaneously.
“I tried to hint at it, in ways more sophisticated than you mom,” Oikawa’s father starts. “But you just never got it.”
“It was pretty obvious from the beginning,” his mother continues. “That expression on your face when you first brought him home? It was the exact same I could barely erase from mine after meeting your father.”
“In the beginning we found it funny, how hard you tried to hide it.”
“Then, it just became awkward,” his sister adds. “Mom tried to sabotage you many times with early morning visits and all, but you just couldn’t give up hiding…”
“After a while I thought you wanted to keep him all to yourself, like how you did with your first volleyball,” his father says. “You made your sister cry, and even punched Iwa-chan once when he tried to take it from you… it was a huge scene in the kindergarten, and you had to schedule it for the exact day I went to pick you up instead of Mom…”
It feels strange.
.
It feels light.
..
It feels surreal.
…
He feels like a total and utter idiot.
It’s deliberating.
*
“Glasses, Tooru?”
“I’m near-sighted.”
“It suits you. You look almost intelligent.”
“Almost?”
“You can never hide your dumb face enough.”
“Oh, Suga-chan, I thought you loved me.”
“I did,” the boy leaned forward, clinging onto Oikawa’s back.
“So you no longer love me?”
“Hmm… let me re-evaluate.”
*
“I feel so stupid. Am I a boomerang?” Sugawara asks, standing on the porch of the Oikawa household.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Oikawa starts, and immediately regrets his choice of words upon seeing the frown on Sugawara’s face. “I was supposed to go and get you, you should’ve only told me where you were. I would’ve come flying.”
“Nice save, Oikawa.”
“No, but really. All this while I’ve been running away… it’s damn time you make me run for my money…”
Sugawara stops him by fisting his hands into his shirt to pull him in for a kiss.
“Don’t ever run. Ever.”
“Not even if a wild boar is chasing me?”
“Then pretend to be dead, you dumb idiot,” Sugawara says, knocking on his forehead.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“I love you so much.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can stop.”
“I bought you your favorite disgusting-looking weird cookie.”
“I love you too.”
*****