Work Text:
A plan of two hours lasting nap crumbles as in the fifty-sixth minute he shifts on the bed and his eyes find themselves in the place where the ray of sun lays. It may be also a fault of Cat’s weight on his chest that makes breathing harder. Another option is that he has simply sensed another presence next to him.
His eyelids flutter.
“Don’t mind me, go back to sleep.”
Issei would like to. But the dream he had, a particularly weird and confusing one, left him in the state where he feels more exhausted than before taking a nap, to the point where he has to deal with a headache now and he definitely won’t fall asleep again with his head pounding like this.
Unwillingly, he opens his eyes and stares at Hanamaki sitting on his bed, his arm reached somewhere above him with an odd object hanging over Issei’s face. Cat meows with discontent when her sleeping place moves and she jumps off the bed and, passing the ajar door, runs to the narrow hallway between two rooms, where a washing machine stands proudly with two baskets of clothes waiting to be put in and washed up. Usually, Cat takes a delight in fishing out some dirty cloth from these baskets and pulling it out and then being confused when everything other suddenly also falls on the floor. After this, she evacuates herself under one of the beds and stays there until one of them cleans up the mess. Issei hopes she’s not doing all of this again.
“What are you doing?”
“Installing a dreamcatcher. Testing something,” is a vague answer. “Since you’ve decided to wake up anyway I need to ask you a question. What did you dream of? Was is weird? Concerning? Nightmare?”
Issei squeezes his eyes as he tries to recall something, but that only gives him a bigger headache. “No, it was normal I think,” he replies finally. “I mean weird but in dream way weird.”
Hanamaki clicks with his tongue and mutters something Issei can’t hear.
He looks at the other side of the room which is filled with flora in fifty percent, whether it’s a cactus or some orchid. An unmade bed with white sheets falling on the floor like a waterfall and one pillow as the only thing that belongs to its place, unbothered by mess around. A phone tucked under the said pillow and no black mug in view. All that combined means that Iwaizumi is back from his classes and probably in another room or at least somewhere near, where he can drink his green tea without greater disruption.
His bed creaks as he stands up and reaches for pants to wear them in front of Hanamaki. Unabashedly, as they have seen already every inch of every part of their bodies, is that a white scar on Issei’s hip or always dry skin on Hanamaki’s elbows.
“Where did you even get that dreamcatcher? It’s rad.” Yeah. A skeleton of the object is covered with a thick green woolen thread, the net is white and looks like a spider web, waiting for nightmares to be imprisoned and good dreams to let them pass through the net. Feathers are hanging off the circle, some of them adorned with beads in all rainbow colours.
“I got it from Suga. He told me it should protect you from any nightmares or whatever that is what disturbs your sleep. Did you know that these feathers are from crows? Impressive.”
“How did he even know that I have a trouble sleeping?”
Hanamaki shrugs and uncaps a modest bottle of hand sanitizer. “That’s Suga.” Thoroughly spreading gel from the tips of his fingers to the wrists leaves his hands all cold and fresh. And smelling very strongly of alcohol.
Issei cringes visibly as the smell reminds him of this one situation with drinking spirits for fun, that didn’t end well. It’s still too early for reliving these memories. Does he regret anything? No. But does he has gag reflex just after smelling a sanitizer from distance? Yes, of course.
Cat makes a pitiful sound. She’s probably decided it’s more fun to socialize with humans than pulling another dirty socket out.
“Did you feed her?”
Hanamaki nods. “Mhm. But she’s so spoiled that she thinks that we’re going to fill the bowl every time she eats all of it.”
“And you’re surprised? That’s Kuroo’s fault. She needs to go on a diet.”
“And she was only a week with him. What a princess.”
"Right?" Issei looks at Cat. "You're a princess, aren't you? Aren't you? Nya? What are you saying, you still hungry? Let's figure something out then-"
Since their small living space had been invaded by Kuroo, shouting that he has a cat to give for a week or month without a word of explanation, they have been blessed with a presence of remarkably social and lively kitten with minute bump instead of a tail. Cursed, not blessed , would snarl Oikawa, but it’s only because three days ago Cat nudged a mug with coffee almost spilling a hot liquid on Oikawa’s open laptop. If not for Issei who was reaching out for the mug in that moment anyway, nobody would be able to see, let alone react on, Cat’s attempt to sabotage Oikawa’s homework. (It was the only moment in Issei’s life when his reflex got plus 70 points - usually it’s minus 15)
It’d been two days, researching all information about cats, a few outraged gasps, three trips to the pet store, plenty of meowing and admiring the cuteness later, until Kuroo’d decided to call them and explain the situation. Long story short - someone with allergy, Kuroo’s taking a cat from them to search for another owner, Kuroo’s other cat not liking the new one.
“You get it, they were fighting all the time. I tried to separate them, y’know, taking one of them to the other room, but they were still coming to each other and asdfghjk. Pretty wild situation. And you are living in another dorm so...”
The questions why did Kuroo didn’t pick up any calls or avoided them for two whole days (Hanamaki swears he saw Kuroo and Bokuto taking a turn once they saw him) had been treated with laugh and pretended shouts of ‘ Who? Me? Avoiding you?? Never! ’. The only promise they’d got is “ There should be someone in a minute! I’m telling you! This cat is purebred! ” On one occasion Kuroo’d given them supplies and money for cat food, on another one a few tips on cats’ language.
Cat that seemed to be shy at first, they were strangers after all, turned out to be very playful and seeking for attention anytime she isn’t sleeping or eating. Iwaizumi is pouring water from the bottle to the glass? She gets in his way, climbing up with her claws out on Iwaizumi’s bare legs. Hanamaki is painting his nails? She decides to trip over and fall with her grey coat on his nails that are halfway drying process. Issei is the one (because he is her favourite) that Cat makes a pillow of, and being a clever animal, she waits until he is already sleeping and she collapses on the stomach or chest. But being a bit fat cat she is, it makes the breathing hard.
“She doesn’t have a name really.”
So they call her Cat, occasionally sweet names like princess or honey.
An alarm in Iwaizumi’s phone goes off, giving out a default melody. Ten seconds later Iwaizumi enters the room, putting the empty mug with a clang and takes his phone to turn off the alarm. He nods at them and leans down to take a bottle of water standing next to his bed intended for watering the plants. Starting with these on the desk, through the ones that are on the shelves amongst books and finishing on these that need more sunlight and their place is on the window sill.
Issei tries not to attract any attention.
“Yeah, I still remember that it’s your turn to take the rubbish out and sweep the floor.”
Failed.
“I am a simple man that likes to procrastinate, okay,” he yawns with a groan. The tears gathered in the corners of his eyes are wiped with one move of a head down to his shoulder. “I had a weak and futile hope that you’d spare me.”
Hanamaki next to him covers his mouth, a phenomenon of yawning passed on.
“No way.” There is a grin in Iwaizumi’s voice. “It’s been a week or three. I’d rather die out of Kuroo’s culinary experiments again than let you off the hook this time.”
“Would you?” Maybe Issei’s voice sounds a little bit more dead than it usually is and should be, because even Iwaizumi scrutinizes him with narrowed eyes.
“I’d have to think about it more,” Iwaizumi succumbs, seeming a bit concerned. But he doesn’t get to ask Issei anything because of Hanamaki.
“Oh. That reminds me that Tooru was supposed to buy some food. But at this rate we may die out of starvation first.” Hanamaki pulls his knees to his chest and embraces them with his arms, leaning against the wall, careful not to tear any of the posters or unstick any of the notes Issei has made.
A good share of them - sticky notes - is on the wall next to his bed, but honestly, they can be found on any surface. A door, table, mirror, desk. A shower cubicle every in a while. Used as a bookmark in books. His part of the room is snowed under the neon pink, azure blue or bright green (“Like aliens!” Oikawa shouted out cheerfully this one time) pieces of paper. That’s just sticky notes but it’s thanks to them that Issei can lead a fairly peaceful life - his mind may be forgetful and he himself may ignore the reminders in his phone but if these sticky notes (‘history of graphics design exam friday ch7-13' or ‘watch this film bokuto was talking about ’ or ‘drink water!!! ’) are on display then his boyfriends will also remind him about some matters. Two heads are better than one, let alone four of them.
Issei plucks a painfully yellow note off the poster of Star Wars, that’s been placed perfectly on Kylo Ren’s helmet and says ‘milk, blue cheese, energy drinks, toothpaste, top-up’ . He puts the note on the back of his phone to not forget about this little shopping list.
“We can go buy some groceries together,” he offers. “And in this way there won’t be any crying that something has been forgotten or whatever.”
Hanamaki tilts his head, bearing this incredulous look on his face and grumbles under his nose.
“What?”
He glances properly at Issei. “Well. If you manage to convince Tooru to go out right now? Good luck.”
[[some of the notes stuck on the wall next to Issei’s bed]]
-homework
-meet akaashi at 3pm MONDAY
-HOMEWORK!!!!!!!! fuck it | Are these famous last words
-If you don't do your homework, you'll fail, but then you can become a homeless artist and/or change your identity, do what you want - elope for ex., consider it | If you do your homework I may leave you leftover pizza from my study group meeting tomorrow
-suddenly there is a motivation in me thx
The main difference between Issei’s and Iwaizumi’s room and the one owned by Oikawa and Hanamaki is cleanliness. Of course it is, with Hanamaki living in this place. When the former room is all sticky notes, plants, a clutter of objects thrown and left on the floor, remnants of chinese food on the table and unmade beds, the other room is air freshener, no crumb in sight, books in piles arranged from the heaviest to the lightest on the top. However it’s not deprived of warmth and empty - a pride flag hung up all over the wall along with a few constellation maps on the right side of the room and way too many Hanamaki’s shoes on the floor (“They are pretty and that’s not my fault that some match only two of my clothes."') that make it sometimes hard to open the door. Every in a while Hanamaki also tapes his sketches to the wall, usually the ones that are too vague and made too quickly and they later serve him as a help in further making art.
But except for above mentioned shoes the floor in the room is usually clear.
So snips of various fabrics along with scissors and threads pique questions. Just like ice-cold temperature that make Issei shiver and see the steam from his breath, and that explains why Hanamaki escaped to the other room. Nobody is willing to have hypothermia because of half-open window. Issei stops even playing with his plug in the right ear and hides his hand in the pocket of hoodie.
Oikawa, who is sitting on the window sill with a lit cigarette, is obviously the one to blame.
“Satan must’ve cursed you with this freaky immunity to the cold,” Issei huffs, sizing up Oikawa who has only a violet t-shirt and boxers on himself, while Issei feels a freezing embrace of Death while wearing the thickest of his hoodies that’s only the one of few layers of his clothes.
Oikawa smiles lazily, letting a puff of cigarette smoke out of his mouth together with steam.
“I could be also blessed by God. Joining the party?” He offers Issei a cigarette and Issei takes it, standing in front of Oikawa and using the other as a shield from the wind.
Three inhales and exhales of the smoke and he hands it back to Oikawa. Sharing a bad habit is what caused them to become friends in the first place. And gossiping. Yeah, definitely the second one.
“It looks like you’re getting ready for a New Year party which requires a disguise,” Issei says, studying a dark green silk laid out on the floor.
“Nearly. That’s cosplay and I’m getting paid for doing this shit. That’s for Tendou.”
“For who?”
“Tendou. But you”re right, he’s not a matter of who but what.”
Issei rolls his eyes. “Cut him some slack maybe? He shouldn’t be blamed for… why are you even doing this if you don’t like him?”
“As I was saying, he’s going to give me money. And you have to keep your enemies close.”
“Oh, right. Totally. Keep them close. Seduce. Make out with them. And other not safe for work stuff.”
Oikawa quickly lets a breath out, indignant. “Are we your enemies?” He rubs the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray and shuts the window.
“Are you not? With the amount of times when you’ve waked me up from my naps I shouldn’t even continue this acquaintance,” he snorts. Oikawa stretches his right leg and nudges Issei’s calf, knee, and lifts it even higher, so Issei finally succumbs and take a hold on Oikawa’s leg and starts caressing a skin behind his knee with his fingers, but not rubbing circles. It would annoy Oikawa as fuck.
“You going with us to the grocery? We run out of few things.”
“Sure.”
Issei raises his head at him, confused. “That was... easy.”
“What have you even expected?”
“Blood, tears and fire. Spilled coffee. Hiro mentioned that you hissed when he tried to make you take a break.”
Oikawa waves him off. “Bullshit. I was focusing on threading a needle. Whatever sound I was making was for higher purposes only.” Issei gently lets go of the leg and Oikawa approaches the closet hiding his clothes, a smell of the cheap tobacco and his shampoo dragging behind him. “Just need to put something on.”
As Oikawa peers at the reflection in the mirror to see how his pants are laying on him, Issei shots a pose in the background, one hand on the hip that’s pushed out on the side, another hand slowly running through his dark curls. Then he gets closer to inspect his permanent and completely natural eyebags, impossible to be ever covered by any concealer, in contrast to Oikawa’s reddened skin around eyes. Huh. A shitty sleeping schedules manifest in various ways, more or less fair.
Though recently he has started to actually like his eyebags as they give him a good excuse not to engage in meaningless conversations, everyone just assumes that he is too exhausted to talk. He doesn’t mind; that reduces the amount of sweet chats about nothing in his life.
Oikawa snickers at him and sends a snap to Iwaizumi and Hanamaki with caption ‘team #neverenoughsleep ’. The statement is true even if he and Oikawa are completely other cases, one taking nap every few hours, another not taking them at all.
[[some of the notes stuck on and in the art history textbook of Hanamaki] [yes, because Issei genuinely likes to read about art history in free time]]
-da vinci was gay
-gavin hamilton ‘Achilles lamenting the death of Patroclus’ page 167 | oh i like this one but i read that one book about these ancient gays being gay and it destroyed my soul into spiritual plancton |
- I like how all these paintings with greek mythology as a topic show us half naked men. Their defined muscles are A Thing to be appreciated
- Yeah, you definitely know a thing or two about nudity | Iwa-chan!! what perverse thing are you thinking about!! | I certainly don’t want to know what kinky shit YOU are thinking about but I meant that you’re an art model
- why are you sticking these notes on the cover of my textbook, instead of talking normally
-we are giving you a silent treatment for using all the hot water in the shower
-also page 136 has a nice sculpture
That’s ridiculous how long it has taken them to get ready.
For Issei it’s only a moment - getting his hearing aid (yeah, only one out of two - that’s pretty much enough for now and he doesn’t feel like wasting battery by unpacking the completely new one for the other aid and then not wearing his hearing aids in the weekend which has just started. Also, the battery in this one tiny device he takes should die in a few hours, therefore he wants to use it up) and another two layers of clothes to keep the warmth takes him not more than four minutes. Iwaizumi is just behind him in this competition because of taking his sweet time caring about his dear plants, then Oikawa, Hanamaki following them after long eight minutes of making sure that his bag contains everything what could be useful, in circumstances which are unlikely to happen.
When they go out on the corridor, Cat quickly slips through the narrow space between closing door and the wall. All of them have a wishful thinking that Cat understands that staying in the corridor is good enough and she won’t try to go outside, where about five degrees of Celsius is collaborating with the wind. Iwaizumi convinces them that wishful thinking isn’t usually working in their case, so they make random two or maybe six people swear they will keep an eye on Cat.
And Oikawa has to go back for the shawl which is more of voguish blanket, de luxe, even. Then Issei himself turns back to grab his phone with shopping list on it, he completely forgot about this detail. Later Oikawa again realizes that he has left his glasses in the bathroom, but one of them grabs firmly his shoulder and blocks the way back, so they can finally have their little trip.
As soon as they got to the mall, Issei and Iwaizumi have only each other.
“Huh? Hey, wait,” starts Issei, however he his response time disappoints him once again. The energetic duo is too far and definitely too loud – well, Issei hears them loud enough, but still doesn’t completely gets the meaning of words that Oikawa and Hanamaki are yelling. It's not like hearing aid is a perfect solution, but it's still notable one. “I wanted… together… shopping lists?”
But Hanamaki and Oikawa get too ecstatic again on the prospect of looking for the weirdest shit to eat and throwing them in the shopping cart when Iwaizumi doesn’t look and Issei cooperates with them distracting one of his boyfriends.
Iwaizumi doesn’t even raise an eyebrow at these antics and scans his notes in the phone.
“Cereals… so milk too. Bread. No milkbread. Some washing powder, toilet paper. Instant ramen times eight. Coffee, of course,” he mutters to himself, while Issei pushes the shopping cart and takes a jelly dessert. It was long since he has eaten the one with cactus flavour.
Iwaizumi gets one bottle of six-litre water.
“The one from the tap is the same,” comments Issei.
“Caffeine pills mixed with water are the same what energy drinks then.”
Issei says no more.
In the next alley they find Oikawa and Hanamaki picking up the bottles of varying drinks, checking the tables of components and calories, putting it away and complaining about degeneration of current products and the fall of the humanity morals. Normally, Hanamaki wouldn’t be willing to reach for almost every of the product (“Imagine how many people have touched it.”) but since it’s early December and it’s cold outside as fuck, he can wear gloves as a great excuse and afford for such a careless, according to him, behaviour.
“What even gellan gum is? Oh, look, this shit has three grams of fat, do you believe? It doesn’t look like this.”
“And this one is just… God, I hate empty calories.”
“Mhm. You know that labels bio ,organic and ecological is the fucking same thing in marketing? And a labelnatural is nothing like them, just a way to attract consumers.”
Issei rests by propping his elbows on the cart and his chin on the palms, listening their lively chat about acid regulators and their positive influence by suppressing the bacteria development and prolonging the timespan of utility. That appeals to Hanamaki on spiritual level.
His calmness and peace, he’s worked on his whole life, last for a minute before Iwaizumi takes the shopping cart from him as if it was his property. Yeah, he may know better than Issei where specific things they’re looking for are but it’s not the point-
Oikawa poses with a green can of vegan cola in one hand and normal one in another while Hanamaki takes a few photos. Iwaizumi pushing the cart with in the background looks like a bodyguard, always ready for action and any danger.
“Okay, let’s go get coffee. They can suck my dick now as I’m promoting a healthy lifestyle.”
Oikawa puts off the cans and they go farther, into the grain products alley.
Issei finds himself beside him and slips his hand in the back pocket of Oikawa’s pants. No ill intentions, that’s genuinely comfortable and his fingers are warm thanks to it.
“You? Maybe leave staying up to 5 a.m. and drinking so much caffeinated drinks and occasional smoking, and we can talk about your healthy lifestyle.” Hanamaki clicks with his tongue. The world could be set in fire and it would probably be his reaction.
“Excuse you, I’m doing sport? Eating nice things? Hydrating? No drugs? Regularly treating my skin with masks and you’re just jealous- Hajime, tell him I’m outraged.”
“Tooru says that he’s outraged,” he repeats in lacking in emotions voice and though it’s impressive, he’s still levels behind Issei.
“Tell him that’s fucking truth.”
“Takahiro says that’s fucking truth”
“And these photos I took aren’t that good.”
“He says that these photos he took aren’t that good.”
“Tell Hiro I can’t hear him.”
“He says he can’t hear you.”
“Then tell Tooru that he’s stupid.”
“He stays he’s stupid- Argh, I fucked up,” Iwaizumi actually snickers at his slip. Also he screams on the inside while Oikawa screams victoriously outside.
Hanamaki makes a sound of culminated frustration and, as a small and rather harmless punishment, he directs his fingers in Iwaizumi’s ribs.
That’s a weak point of Iwaizumi. He’s too sensitive and ticklish.
He makes a sound between screech and growl and accidently lets his elbows slide off the shopping cart. He regains the balance and says softly“Parkour,” but the shopping cart slips from his grip and the object is pushed forward.
Iwaizumi doesn’t reach the cart and it hits Issei’s hip before he can evacuate himself (again, his reaction time fault) and he makes a step or two back with hiss and crushes into Oikawa, who loses his footing dramatically and tries to get a grip on something. The obvious option is Issei himself. Then Issei makes a futile attempt to hold on whatever is in his arm reach, however his fingers only graze a shelve and catch two cereals boxes. The last one doesn’t mean anything good.
They are about to get know how does it feel to be buried under cereal boxes.
[[the notes stuck on the door to Iwaizumi’s and issei’s room]]
-nobody below 180cm allowed in | Woah, a hit has been thrown, blood has spilled
-oops
- You’re fucking grounded
-what??????? i can’t hear you from this distance, you have to grow up and tell me then
-Oh I guess you can’t hear right now that I’ve got ice tea, what an unfortunate coincidence
- my boyfriend's back and you're gonna be in trouble lol
“At least we are not in the reality where instead of well packed cereals it were bottles of wine that would shatter, we’d have drowned in alcohol and died. Just like workers in this shop out of mental pain.”
“Stop killing us in your pessimistic scenarios, you’ve already done that fifteen minutes ago.”
“Honestly, it was more like negligent homicide. And that was Takahiro’s fault.” Iwaizumi throws his arms out (quite effective move, executed a fraction of a second slower, as he is holding bags with groceries, though they are no match for him), indignant of being accused of such a thing. Committing the first degree murder seems like a lot of trouble.
They are all used to the threats which are pretty much empty like the corridor of their dorm at 4 a.m. (considering that people are either in their rooms or dorm kitchen at that moment)
And this is a known fact that amongst them all this is Hanamaki who would be the quickest to finish them all, probably already having his detailed plans written in the sketchbook he carries with himself.
Hanamaki has an audacity to villainously chuckle, another one of his default responses beside clicking a tongue.
There is a hissing sound as Issei opens the can and the tiny gas bubbles are released. He slurps the froth of energy drink out of the can and gives out a hum of content. The taste is so artificial, yet he loves it.
With displeasure, they’ve realized that none of them had even spared a thought about taking a backpack or satchel, the consequences now being carrying four heavy groceries in plastic bags that make skin on the palm burn and chop the fingers off. Oikawa and Iwaizumi have offered to carry their purchases under condition that later, Hanamaki and Issei will be the ones to unpack the products out of bags and label most of them with threats before putting into the fridge in a dorm kitchen.
It would be easier if each of them took one bag but hey, they like to have their life harder.
Oikawa and Iwaizumi are going slightly ahead, the first one hitting Iwaizumi’s knee from behind with one of his bag and then gasping in surprise when the other sends a hit with his bag at Oikawa’s ass. The avalanche of ‘so shameless!’ , ‘fix your attitude’ , ’you’re definitely into bondage’ and variations of these follows along with a laughter and barking sound.
Issei hides one of his hand in Hanamaki’s coat pocket, the place where cold isn’t known, and intertwines his fingers with Hanamaki’s. There is so many advantages of not carrying any of the bags - he can drink the caffeinated drink (though caffeine stopped working on him not a long after starting an university) while having all four fourth of his world with himself (one fourth being him, because he’s slightly narcisstic and loves himself very dearly) Four fifth, honestly, because Cat is not here. She quickly made her way into his heart.
So, he is not exactly pleased to find out that his phone is vibrating with a coming call.
He always feels it before hearing a ringtone, provided that he even bothered to change his phone mode from silent. That’s a habit to have only vibrations and no sound when call or text message comes - he got his hearing aids only in the middle of his high school, so before it usually had taken him longer to hear the ringtone if he managed to hear it in the first place. And well. Even now he doesn’t wear his hearing aid all the time, that’s simply a waste of batteries and kind of tiring after a longer while, so he takes them with himself only on his classes or on some of the meetings. After all, he can hear people kinda good if they do not whisper or mumble under their noses. Sometimes he doesn’t hear just one part of the sentence and he can easily guess it from the context. Sometimes not, so ‘what?’ is unavoidable but what it is for someone to repeat his words louder? Nothing. And for him it’s essential to carry the conversation, so what’s the deal.
Of course his roommates know about his issues with hearing. They know a lot about each other - their sleeping schedules or the lack of it, (un)healthy eating habits, allergies, little quirks or alcohol tolerance. Their reaction on stress (Hanamaki – eating sweets in a horrendous amount, Oikawa - overworking himself, Iwaizumi - almost impossible irritability and Issei - a total withdrawal from the social contacts, a few levels above the normal one), various meds names or current situation at home which is more or less tense.
That’s quite of overwhelming how much of a blackmail material they have and never use.
Issei picks up his phone with Kuroo on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Good to hear you, Matsukawa. I thought so that you wouldn’t ignore me. Do you have your pretty boyfriends beside you?”
“Maybe? Yeah?”
“Then I need to talk to Iwaizumi? Pretty please.”
Issei hates talking on the phone, preferring text messages above fucking all. Hearing only a voice and not seeing the facial expression is weird, even more if another person calls you just to know how is he doing and then they expect him to carry the conversation. Cruel as fuck.
It’s hard to understand how Oikawa can do it on a daily basis.
The catch is that if gave his phone to Iwaizumi, he’d have to take these bags from him and he definitely doesn’t want to exert himself more than it’s necessary.
But Kuroo’s voice sounds serious.
“I can pass a message to him but I can’t guarantee any results.”
“There’s a pretty tense situation here.”
“That’s rough.”
“Yeah. So firstly I need you to say hi to Iwa and wish him a good evening with you all. For precaution-”
[[notes stuck on the window] [not the one by Issei’s bed or even Iwaizumi’s] [but the one beside Hanamaki’s and Oikawa’s] [how did it even happen]]
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯
-( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
- ooooh please stick on some printed memes hon, a light of my life, my dearest one
- Hey, you have your own window, pay if you want to use this one
- I meant ‘pay”, not ‘stop using’, Matssun. Issei. Hon. A light of my life
The good thing is that the dorm kitchen (the one on the second floor where they live) is empty, so they don’t have to listen to pleas for food because nobody beside them thought about moving their asses to the nearby grocery store.
Hanamaki practically throws the plastic bags on the worktops next to the cooker and pulls a carton of milk out of one of them. Issei sticks a note on it and writes ‘DON’T TOUCH IT OR IWA WON’T EVER TEND YOUR BATTLE WOUNDS’ on it. From all the threats, this tactic is the most efficient one and ensures their food untouched. Nobody will risk dying. (Sometimes Kuroo risks. A fact that he lives in another dorm doesn’t bother him and he still comes to check the fridge once in a while. What Kuroo always repeats is ‘better die out of hypothetical gangrene and tuberculosis than more possible starvation’, but he’s a lucky bastard who would get out of tornado without even a papercut on his pinky)
Milk, two yoghurts and the blue cheese in the fridge later, Issei sits down on the floor, having a relaxation time he deserves after not carrying any of the bags. He unzips his thick jacket, lays his cheek against the wall tiles and enjoys the pleasant coldness. Hanamaki squats beside him, careful so his elegant grey coat doesn’t even brush the floor.
“Are we going to go back to our rooms?”
His lips refuse to give any answer, his mind refuses to connecting with reality again.There is no thing he wishes more than a bit of sleep.
Yeah, it’s a known to everyone fact that his sleeping schedule is a mess - not because of lack of sleep, but actually kind of the opposite, falling in embraces of Morpheus whenever it’s possible. During classes. Between classes. In the evening. At night. And in the morning, when strangely his organism begs for sleep the most, yet it’s taken away from him when fourth alarm set along with vibrations starts annoy Iwaizumi, or surprise, Hanamaki behind the wall, who is too much sensitized for the smallest noise in the morning.
In moments like these, he appreciates some sides of his issues with hearing. It’s pretty foreign concept to him that certain people can wake up just from the hearing steps or other ridiculous things. He often doesn’t even hear someone approaching him without his hearing aids, it’s more likely he will sense their present instead.
Well, lately, he’s been waking up from not so pleasant dreams which aren’t nightmares, but still dangerously near the line. The results are that he wakes up very often, and wakes up extremelytired . Nobody, including him, would suspect it’s possible for Issei to be and look even more exhausted. Hence a dreamcatcher from Suga. (Oikawa and Hanamaki were pretty adamant that only Suga can help him. He shrugged his shoulders and let them do as they want)
A warmth envelops him, the one as if he was sitting by the fireplace, along with the the smell of detergents, when Hanamaki tucks Issei’s head under his chin and nuzzles the dark curls.
“C’mon, let’s stand up and go, you’ll sleep in your bed, not on the floor,” he says softly. Issei almost gives in.
“Five minutes,” he grumbles sleepily into the greyness of Hanamaki’s coat.
And they stay here for a moment or three, Hanamaki’s gloved fingers sometimes caressing his arms and neck, sometimes combing through Issei’s hair. Thoughts in Issei’s head stop running and he is half-disconnected from the world, until he isn’t, this time Hanamaki’s hands shaking him slightly from the slumber.
“It’s been ten minutes, hey. Really c’mon.”
He pays almost no attention to his surrounding as they are going towards their rooms, barely registers Hanamaki scooping Cat from the floor and talking to her some sweet words. Wasn’t she supposed to be watched over by six people, he thinks, but says nothing and pushes the door instead.
A crowd in the hallway is kind of a shock to him that wakes him up from his half-living state immediately. A cacophony of shouts, screeches and hysterical laugh that makes him almost tear his hearing aid from his ear. Almost, because he just subtly takes it off and holds the tiny object firmly, yet gently in his hand, very careful not to drop it by accident.
“That’s… cold. And kind of pleasant, what the hell. Ahh-”
“Oh my god, stop these obscene sounds. You're embarrassing Iwa. And making Oikawa hyperventilate.”
“You don’t want him to stop, do you? Bokuto, please.”
“Not my fault it’s such a nice feeling! I can’t control it.”
“Sometimes we all have to do things we don’t want to.”
“Honestly, do we?”
But at least quarter of his organism is still napping.
Issei pulls some Aloe Vera shit out of the plastic bag he holds and waves it in front of Oikawa’s face. “Is that... yours?”
“Yeah? I don’t steal, you know,” Oikawa scoffs and takes a can from him.
Kuroo immediately takes it away, opens and takes a sip. “Not poisoned,’ he says before giving a can back to Oikawa (who is not so pleased that nearly half of his drink is already gone) and redirecting his attention to Cat that’s currently wandering under everybody’s foot and rubbing against the chosen ones. “Oh, my sweetie cutie pie, what have they done to you? Tell me. You still prefer me over them, right? Right? Nya?”
Thanks to Cat, both Kuroo and Oikawa are sitting now by the laundry machine, busy with baby talking to the animal, so the space by the bathroom door has cleared and Issei is able to take a glance.
Iwaizumi is wrapping Bokuto’s fingers with bandages with some kind of a cardboard to immobilize the middle and ring fingers. The first aid kit lays on the surface of floor, next to kneeling Iwaizumi, as that’s patient who has a privilege of sitting on the toilet seat. An ice spray, used recently, is still on display.
They say that the glass owned by pessimist is half empty, optimist’s is half full. And cautious people have glass always full then, just in case. That’s why their first aid kit they hide in the bathroom is never lacking in medical equipment. Everyone blesses Iwaizumi’s nursing major (and overall concern for his surrounding) and Hanamaki’s small paranoia about keeping himself and things off-germs, so antiseptic? Bandages? Latex gloves? Thirty other stuff? Always here and ready to use.
A nasty bruise, burn, headache from the hangover. People keep coming whenever blood or pain involved and some are in better, some in worse state, each of them hopeful that Iwaizumi’s expertise is enough. (How often do I have to repeat that I’m not majoring in medicine, the fuck? I don’t know why are you sick. Please, go to the actual doctor) At one point, there was once a guy with arm broken in three places (info they got much, much later) and they had a hard time convincing him that hospital is a place where he should direct his steps.
That’s how things are. Another view of Iwaizumi patching someone up, Bokuto again here being patched up.
“Yo Bokuto,” Issei lifts his free hand. “What is it this time?”
Bokuto makes a sign of peace with his good hand as a greeting, sending him a bright smile that cures every possible illness, kills bacteria and viruses.
“A few bruises on the fingers. Kuroo stepped on my fingers, y’know, usual.” Bokuto takes a breath and leans a bit to take the ice spray. Iwaizumi grunts at this, discontent that his friend is moving, making it harder to wrap bandages perfectly. “Did you ever use it? That ice stuff. This is so. Such a weird feeling. There’s a cold, more cold and nothing,” he says excitedly.
Bokuto is one these very few people that make Issei believe for a moment he doesn’t need hearing aids anymore. His voice is just possible to hear if there was a hurricane and a few other natural disaster around.
“I know, right? Nothing, only a void left. No pain. No whatever. Even your debts vanish.”
“Yeah! A medication to everything. When I’m dying, spray me with this cold stuff. I want to feel as if I was about to hibernate.”
“Sure thing.”
“No sure thing,” Iwaizumi cuts in and pats Bokuto’s wrist to let him know that he’s done. “There are people with minor injuries who would gladly use this thing. No hibernating. No dying. Understood?”
“But you’re killing us in your scenarios,” Issei reminds him, with an askew grin adorning his face.
Iwaizumi huffs because he’s right.
“O! I know what I wanted to say. Tell Makki that Akaashi’s gonna pass by. Something about art history.” Bokuto turns to Iwaizumi. “Thanks, man. You’re saving me again,” he tries to ruffle Iwaizumi’s hair, but the latter manages to tilt his head so the hand doesn’t reach its destination. Bokuto tries again. This time Iwaizumi is left with mess in his hair and Bokuto earns a weird sound from Iwaizumi, something animalistic that’s a mix between growl and hiss and reminds Issei of a fox. This is more of Iwaizumi’s reflex to give out this sound than a real threat to bite off someone’s arm. Usually. Sometimes not. Other times there is a bitten off arm.
Well, it’s always cute to hear.
Issei kneels beside Iwaizumi to help him put stuff back together. The scissors, the rest of bandages.
“That was the emergency?”
“Yeah. They made it sound as if there was one limb less and the risk of infection, but. Kuroo is somewhat of an unreliable narrator.”
“That were just bruises,” Issei stands up. “You could do none of it and all would work out fine.”
The bag with groceries stays on the floor. He won’t lean after this, not in this century, ever, he wants to rest. But only for a moment though, as the urge to sleep has almost completely gone, it must have been Bokuto’s magic. The energy emanating from him that makes people want to be alive.
Suddenly he gets a flashback of Oikawa telling him something about Suga and the energy floating around them. What the hell.
“Bokuto seems like someone who would be excited about an ice spray so I wanted to use it so he wouldn’t sulk about the bruises on the fingers. They are annoying even if there’s no real damage.” Iwaizumi glances aside, maybe a little embarrassed.
Issei feels as his heart falls into arrhythmia state and he pulls Iwaizumi close and leaves a wet kiss on the cheek.
“What is it for.”
“Can’t I just kiss my boyfriend for being so charming and thoughtful?”
“Get lost.”
But there is no real bite in the words and no real strength when Iwa tries to break out of the hug and Issei leaves him alone anyway in a few seconds.
“Oh, sure. Then I’ll leave you with these bags.”
“That was your plan from the beginning, right?”
Issei offers him an askew smile and goes to look for his mug. There is no energy drinks but there is a chance that a hidden stock of yerba mate is still under his bed.
[[notes stuck on the mirror in the bathroom]]
-coconut or mango fight | but, like to eat or what | That’s a taste of lubricant or what | i meant shampoo smell
-'product kills 99% bacteria' = isolating the 1% of the strongest ones | don’t you even dare to scare me this way, please, you fuck
-the most frequent cause of slipping are: spilled liquids, pollination and icing up. leaving shampoo or soap on the floor is dangerous and i’d appreciate if you weren’t like that
- On the bright side of it, at least Cat wasn’t entering the bathroom when you were washing up, she hates wet surfaces as all cats so kinda good. But seconded
The kitchen functions as a sanctuary at 10 p.m.- 6 a.m.
But it’s still a half after 9 a.m. so he doesn’t meet Akaashi or Kenma or Kiyoko here.
Issei presses the button so water in the electric kettle starts boiling. At least three mugs and two bowls with instant noodle, still in the dried blocks form, are beside the kettle, waiting to be filled.
Beside him, Daichi hits an egg on the rim of a fry pan and stirs it on the dissolved butter. Who does even use oil in these times? Cheap products are good products. Ennoshita is sitting by the table, busy with playing in 2048 on his phone.
“There’s nothing to eat,” Terushima groans, finally closing the fridge after exceptionally long staring contest with food inside, and leans his back against the door of it. Defeated. Deceived. Disappointed. There is only some shit to eat or stuff labelled with threats.
“You’re just too choosy. And It’s not your food,” Daichi scolds him. His voice is somehow distant, the points said in kind of automatic manner that’s unsettling.
“We live in the world of capitalism and exploitation which is hidden under what we call ‘work’. I can’t use my money to buy food and let all these companies earn on my basic needs. They are trying to get us addicted from them, from technology, from everything, until nothing could be granted for free.”
Ennoshita pauses the game. “You seem to have more fire in you after your last week sickness.”
“I wasn’t sick? I was in Mongolia and Serbia last week. I saw a lot. I experienced a lot. You have no idea...”
“Shouldn’t you be, like, thrown out of the uni now? For such a long absence?”
“I’m more concerned about how he managed to visit these two countries in six days and learn so much about life,” adds Issei quietly. He hopes his voice doesn’t come out as too awkward, as if he wasn’t comfortable with their company. It’s also not that that he is, but, uh, somehow being on such a small space with people he talks rarely with makes him slightly nervous. Though, recently his acquaintance with Terushima has been going well, actually.
Terushima turns to him and does fingerguns thing with triumph written all on his face.
“No, but really? How did you get a medical leave? Because you must’ve got it?”
“Forging stuff isn’t that hard.”
Terushima clasp his hands and sends a bright smile to Issei who glares in response at him. Ennoshita looks by turns at Terushima and Issei and when nerves in Ennoshita’s brain finally figure out the information, he’s just got, his jaw slacks.
A kettle makes a sound that’s kinda similar to the beeping of all these machines in hospital. Water is boiled.
“Matsukawa, I’d never thought that you’re doing such a things to pay your tuition.”
Yerba mate, coffee, tea, two bowls with noodles. Issei pours water. He’s been pouring water forever, that’s how it feels.
“What things, Ennoshita,” he says, shrugging with one shoulder. “I just… have contacts.”
He doesn’t even lie.
Life has given some specific talents to Issei. Somehow, beside fast typing without looking at the keyboard and knowing International and Japanese Sign Language (the last one learnt to speak with his father, the first one learnt just in case), he has an ability to make friends with people whose successful career is bordering or not even bordering on illegal. What an irony that he has problem with talking comfortably to everyone else. Not his fault, okay. Watari is okay and what does it even matter that he sometimes usesalternative ways to have money? Ah, and if not for his contacts, Yahaba wouldn’t meet Kyoutani, so they can thank him. At least one person can thank him.
“Anyway, thanks, mate. If it weren't for you, I'd never learn what our lives mean.” Terushima nods and starts humming some k-pop song filling the awkward silence, making it to be more creepy. Issei manages to recognize the song because Oikawa was humming it a week ago.
Ennoshita stands up to take his tea.
“Wow. Daichi, did you hear all of thi- hey?”
There is only a slight smell of burnt eggs and onion. Only now they do realize this and Issei pushes Daichi to turn off the gas. Terushima jumps to open windows for fresh and icy air.
“Man, are you okay?” Ennoshita asks his friend, helping him stand up after unfortunate fall. Issei’s push wasn’t even that strong?? And Daichi isn’t that delicate to fall from the push??
Daichi’s eyes are… empty. Four seconds pass. “Huh. When am I not?” He falls on the chair, exhausted and willing to give himself to Death. Defeated, just like Terushima before.
What happens next is Suga entering the kitchen and making few quick steps to find himself in front of Daichi. He carefully holds Daichi’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and use the fingers to raises Daichi’s head and stare deeply in his eyes.
Issei also notices Iwaizumi in the entry. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I send you for ramen and you weren’t coming back for a long time and, so I’ve got concerned.” Iwaizumi nods at Daichi. “What about him? Another person in need of medical help?” Perhaps his organism has developed some detector, because he always finds himself close to sixty percent of accidents.
“Yeah, we’ve got a case of brainwashing here!” Terushima shouts.
“He’s not okay,” Ennoshita sighs. “And I can’t tell if it’s frontal lobe damage or kind of shock he’s went through hearing about Mongolia and counterfeiting.”
“Ah, don’t worry,” says Suga. “It’s all about energy. Something is interfering with it.”
“Something is what doing?”
“Interfering.”
Iwaizumi frowns. “What? Of course not. He looks dead like Tooru two days ago, I know this look.” He grabs Daichi’s arm strongly. “When was the last time you sleep?”
The answer comes with a slight delay. ”Four days ago? A lot of exams.”
Iwaizumi nods, glad that his assumptions were good.
“So. He just fell asleep while doing these eggs. Ever heard about microsleep? A few seconds nap?”
One hand rises. Suga grabs gently Ennoshita’s wrist and puts the arm down with a saccharine smile. His lips are twisted in even sweeter way and his eyes are crinkled when he turns toward Iwaizumi. What an innocent expression.
“No, there is some interference with energy in the air,” Suga repeats fiercely.
He waves his hand in front of Daichi’s face and pats his cheek. It seems to work out because Daichi’s eyes widen and there is a recognition in his expression. “How are you doing? C’mon, let’s go back to your room, you’ve just burnt our food.”
The two evacuate themselves (more like Suga evacuates both of them), leaving the kitchen in a disarray they've caused.
“Do you have our ramen and your yerba?”
“And even coffee for Tooru.”
A man with dark curls points at the bowls with his finger. Iwaizumi takes each in his hands and looks through his shoulder, he is waiting for his boyfriend to follow. He doesn’t seem disturbed by what he’s just saw.
Issei shots the last look at the sanctuary. The jar with sugar on the worktable beside the cooker is open and the one with salt closed - Daichi must have mistakenly sweetened the eggs, so maybe that’s a good thing they are burnt. On the other hand, Terushima seems to calculate his chance of living after eating it. A new founded life philosophy of not letting government get to his money has been going well so far.
He takes mugs with yerba and coffee.
[[some of the notes stuck on the wall beside Issei bed] [part 2] [yes, there is so many notes]]
-alo alo sunt iarasi eu picasso
-boku no hero academy 2, 14 episode
-read animorphs? idk, tooru’s recommendation
-find time to buy these presents
- Aww that’s sweet, don’t believe all these movies and ads which say that presents don't matter!! You can discuss with me your choice of present for me unless it really must be a surprise
-jfc maybe he doesn’t want to buy you a present? And now you are making him uncomfortable, talking like this? Think again | My heartu got hurtu :’( It’s bleeding now and it’s your fault
A mattress buckles under the weight of another body falling kinda next to Issei, kinda on him and he earns an undeserved kick to his calf.
“Oh sweet Jesus and his apostles.” He opens his eyes. “Would you consider thinking before damn jumping on me.”
“The aim was off but that’s fault of friction. You know, the force resisting-”
“Sure, but you could use these calculations of yours. There sure are some for this situation.”
“Next time, I promise.”
Oikawa fixes his position a few times, also forcing Issei to reposition himself, so two bodies of tall adult men can fit on one single bed, absolutely unsuitable to the aforementioned weight. One pillow is brutally taken from under Issei’s head.
Oikawa takes Issei’s hand and starts playing with the fingers. The light that comes from the small desk lamp on Iwaizumi’s desk (Iwaizumi left it like this before going to the bathroom five minutes ago and Issei hasn’t found an ounce of motivation to move his ass and turn it off) illuminates Oikawa’s face which is quite hidden in the shadow of Issei’s body in between them.
He has closed eyes, weary off expression and Issei expects him to fall asleep in a minute. That could be even better if not for the modest space and fact that Oikawa fidgets while sleeping, sometimes monopolizes the whole comforter, every in a while there is a case of pushing the other person from the bed. That surely must be why he always sleeps between the wall and other person, for precaution. What a sick bastard.
“Why are you laying here?” Issei inquires.
“‘Cause we didn’t have our usual talk ib the bathroom.”
“What?”
“Talk.”
“You don’t sound very lively right now, we won’t be carrying on any intelligent talk now.”
“Yeah, but still wanted to whisper with you for a while,” an amused note in the voice is barely noticeable.
“Please, don’t whisper,” Issei says, closing his own eyes. “We can not talk at all instead. For a change.”
The talk. Their little ritual whose genesis comes from the times when they’d found out that both Oikawa and Issei are able to spend centuries in the bathroom, so to spare fights and time, they’d started to share the space. One puts his mask on the face, another washes his hair. One is plucking his eyebrows, another takes time shaving himself. To keep themselves amused, plenty of secrets and rumours have been spilled and a lot of promises of gaining more information have been sealed by pinky promise.
Now, they are so used to badmouthing everyone around, like old fishwives, that others start knocking after they overstay in the bathroom, one sitting comfortably on the toilet seat and the second on the verge of the shower cubicle or leaning his back against the sink.
A delicate shake of mattress follows after Tooru’s weak nods.
“Okay. Quiet time now. So Tooru.exe stopped working.”
“And Issei 404 not found.”
Oikawa moves himself closer, resting his head under Issei’s chin, his cheek against the collarbone. Issei can’t help but wrap his arm around the person beside him, his hand sunken in brown waves.
A blanket doesn’t cover the tip of Issei’s right foot which is now softly assaulted by Cat that presses her paws on his toes and sole, as if examining the foreign object.
The thoughts about all day are appearing now in Issei’s mind, along with lists to do he tries to recall and can’t. But he has all these notes stuck to the objects, walls, and three people who also read these notes, so he doesn’t truly worry.
Vibrations and a warm breath against his skin are a great medication for peaceful sleep, with or without a fancy dreamcatcher above his bed. Oikawa mumbles something and Issei claims that there are things that only his collarbone deserves to hear.