Work Text:
Iwaizumi was used to the pub scene. Large wooden rafters above, peanut shells scattered below, the lull of conversation that centered around sports games on the televisions conveniently placed above the bar, and the slick perspiration of a frosted mug of beer in his hand were a comfort after long, grueling mornings of reading blueprints and lugging timber and the grating sound of screwdrivers and hammers embedding in his brain. It had become a welcomed tradition to traverse to Philly's Pub with his construction crew and enjoy a hearty lunch and good conversation on their lunch break.
So when one of his coworkers suggested they try a new place, Iwaizumi had been hesitant. Why change something when what they already had was good? Great, even.
It was the promise of 'the best burgers in the country' that made him reluctantly agree. He figured he'd humor his coworker and stretch his horizons a little.
It turned out the guy hadn't been lying. The burgers of 'Aoba Johsai' were big and juicy and packed full of flavor. Iwaizumi was impressed.
So their lunch spot switched from a smokey pub to a polished diner. Best damn burger he'd ever tasted or not, he felt a tad out-of-place, wondering if anyone would ever complain about a bunch of sweaty, and at times dirty, men coming from the job to disturb their peace. The opposite of Philly's Pub, the diner was spacious and bright, with large windows letting in the sunlight and modern architecture. It definitely didn't have any peanut shells on the floor. In fact, the floor's linoleum shone in the sunlight, so much so that Iwaizumi was tempted to infer the owner had some kind of OCD. Or, maybe, Iwaizumi reasoned, he himself could afford to bring his cleaning standards up a notch.
Not that he was a slob. But someone visiting his apartment might have to step over a few things on the floor to walk through the living room.
The anxiety of being unwelcome faded after a few weeks had passed, and all they ever got was a huge pearly smile from a busty, red-haired waitress named Holly. He had a sneaking suspicion she enjoyed the attention his crew showered on her. He'd even thrown her a flirty compliment or two, even though he was as straight as a cooked noodle, because she had a habit of slipping chocolate chip cookies under a napkin and 'accidentally' leaving them behind.
He rather liked chocolate chip cookies, especially if they were free.
But what caught Iwaizumi's attention more than Holly, more than chocolate chip cookies, and even more than burgers (and what a feat that was), was a certain frequent customer who'd always sit in a booth by the windows. Sometimes, he'd be with friends, and other times not, either with a book or a laptop, sometimes wearing glasses, sometimes not. Despite the inconsistencies, there was one thing that never changed.
His nails were always painted.
They looked professional, too. Having grown up with three older sisters, Iwaizumi was no stranger to all the filing, buffing, polishing, painting, and intricate stencil work. It certainly didn't fit his own image, but he'd always held a fascination regarding nail work, stemming from watching his sisters put blood and tears into making their own nails look cute.
And this stranger's nails always looked cute.
The pattern would change often. Navy blue with silver stars, teal with polka dots, an alternating mix of reds, greens, and yellows with little apples on them. Gray and silver stripes, green with black ovals that reminded him of alien eyes (he chuckled at that one), and even a glittery pink that should have been at least a little odd on the guy, but somehow wasn't.
Iwaizumi tried his best to observe those nails without being noticed. His crew would no doubt make wisecracks about him if they knew he was admiring pretty nails, and he certainly didn't want make the guy himself think he was a pervert for staring. Because, really, he was just interested in the nails.
Even if, he had to admit, the guy was really pretty himself.
It had become so commonplace... go to the diner, have lunch, see what kind of pattern was on pretty nail boy's nails that day, admire it, steal a few glances at pretty nail boy himself, and leave. It was a little weird, if he really sat and thought about it, but routine was routine, and this was a routine he rather enjoyed. It wasn't like the mystery guy was there every single time... but he was there more often than not. Lunch time was always the same for Iwaizumi's crew. He wondered if the guy had a lunch time at the same time, or at least a break. College student, maybe? The books and laptop and guesstimate age wouldn't make the idea weird. But, while the diner's prices weren't anything outrageous, they weren't dollar menu material either. Iwaizumi had never gone to college, jumping straight into the workforce instead, but he heard that typical college students were broke as hell. Would a college student be able to eat at Aoba Johsai every day? Did he do his own nails, or did he get them done at a salon? Iwaizumi was fairly certain he'd never seen the same pattern on the guy's nails for more than three days... surely he wouldn't get them professionally done that often?
Those kinds of thoughts filtered through Iwaizumi's mind every time they entered the diner. It was entertaining to create questions and imagine the answers.
Today, the guy's nails were striped like candy canes; blue and white. Iwaizumi stared at the way they rested against the diner's typical clear tumbler, the bold colors popping out.
He realized he stared a little too long when his coworker turned around to look too.
“What's got your attention?” He asked, eyes scanning the diner as if looking for something particularly interesting. Iwaizumi grabbed his drink and took a gulp.
“Nothing,” he said smoothly. His coworker shrugged and returned to his food. It was then, looking down the bar at his coworkers, that he noticed two men at the end of the counter. Iwaizumi didn't particularly like to judge others based on first glance, but their shit-eating grins practically screamed trouble. Seeing Holly's frustrated expression as she walked away from them only confirmed that intuition.
And they kept looking over at pretty nail guy, snickering and whispering to each other.
Iwaizumi frowned and glanced back at the guy. He didn't seem to notice the two at all, with his back to them and eyes trained on the laptop on the table.
“Thank you, beautiful!” One of Iwaizumi's coworkers exclaimed as she handed him their check.
“Oh hush, now,” Holly cooed, now sporting a big smile next to their group. Iwaizumi looked passed her, where one of the two men at the end of the bar was sliding off his stool while the other chuckled behind his hand. Schooling his expression, the guy walked over to pretty nail guy (wow, knowing the name of the guy he'd been secretly oogling... or, the guy he'd been oogling the nails of, for the past couple weeks would have been very helpful at this point) and stopped next to his table.
“Excuse me.”
Iwaizumi could hear the conversation clearly from where he sat, and watched as pretty nail guy looked up at the newcomer with a puzzled expression.
“... yeah?” He replied easily.
“Iwaizumi, get your part of the tip,” one of Iwaizumi's coworkers said. Iwaizumi cursed to himself and grabbed for his wallet.
“My friend over there was wondering something,” the guy said, throwing a thumb back in his friend's direction. “Are you a girl, or a boy?”
Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes and practically threw his part of the tip on the counter. He knew it would be something like this. He had a feeling in his gut, and that feeling was hardly ever wrong.
He saw the irritation on pretty nail guy's face, even if he didn't react harshly. He merely rested his cheek on his fist and looked up at the nuisance with a raised brow.
“And why's that any business of yours?” He asked.
“Friend would love to take you out! If, you know, you wore a dress, maybe some heels. Your nails are perfect already,” the guy snickered.
Iwaizumi was vaguely aware of his crew standing up to leave. He followed the motions, but kept his eyes trained on the situation. He expected pretty nail guy to get upset, or angry, but that didn't seem to be the case. In fact, he gave the nuisance a sugary sweet smile that was downright fake.
“He's sweet, but no thanks,” he said, turning pointedly back to his laptop screen.
“Aw, what about me, then?” The asshole continued, clearly not knowing when to quit. “I'm sure you're interested in this. Mine's bigger than his anyway.”
He made a crude gesture to his crotch. Iwaizumi was aware of the asshole's friend busting into laughter, of his crew already at the front door without him, of pretty nail boy's eyebrow twitching and upper lip curling, before his hand found purchase on the asshole's shoulder. He may have squeezed a little harder than he'd intended, he realized, after the asshole winced.
Oops.
“Hey. He's not interested,” Iwaizumi barked. He knew he was an intimidating person, his height be damned. He used that to his advantage, narrowing his eyes dangerously and flexing his muscles enough to squeezed the guy's shoulder just a little harder.
“What the fuck, dude?!” The asshole exclaimed. It just pissed Iwaizumi more to see him pull that kind of 'I'm innocent' move after clearly harassing pretty nail guy. Speaking of, Iwaizumi saw him scoot out of the booth and stand from the corner of his eye.
“I can speak for myself,” pretty nail guy said, staring Iwaizumi straight in the eye. Iwaizumi had never been this close before... had never noticed how warm and rich his brown eyes were, or how soft his skin looked, or how much taller he was than Iwaizumi, God damn it, or... well, how muscled the guy actually was. He wasn't buff, like Iwaizumi, not by a long shot, but watching the lines of his body as he turned his attention back to the asshole and wound a fist back, there was definite defined muscle there and- Iwaizumi started when pretty nail boy hid those pretty nails in his fist and punched asshole square in the face. “It'd hurt just as much if I was in a dress, asshole.”
Iwaizumi was pretty sure his jaw was hanging open. Sounds happened all around him... gasps from other customers in the diner, expletives and groans from the floor, running footsteps of asshole's friend to kneel next to him, murmured confusion from his coworkers at the door..
“Oikawa!” Holly's voice rang over all of them.
Oikawa...
Iwaizumi watched as pretty nail guy looked over at her and muttered a 'what?'
“You can't just punch people- oh my gosh, your father is going to have a field day!” Holly exclaimed.
Oikawa.
He finally had a name.
“Tell dad to ban both of these guys from the diner. We don't need customers who harass people,” pretty nail gu-- Oikawa said with a huff. He turned, shutting his laptop and grabbing his drink. Iwaizumi tensed when those brown eyes were on him again, for a brief second, but then Oikawa was stepping over asshole's leg, cutting his way through the crowd of Iwaizumi's coworkers, and making his way out of the door.
“Motherfu- is it broken!?” He heard asshole moan on the floor.
“Dude, what the hell was that?” One of Iwaizumi's coworkers asked, walking over.
“What am I going to do with that child?” Holly asked, clearly to herself, shaking her head before looking at the guy on the floor. “Alright, up with you two!”
The scene around him was chaos, but Iwaizumi couldn't shake his eyes away from the last spot he'd seen Oikawa in.
He knew he was a weird guy, amidst it all (he'd been obsessed with staring at a guy's nails for weeks, after all), but he never would have thought he'd develop a honest-to-God crush on a guy after watching him punch someone.
“... I need a drink,” Iwaizumi concluded.
“We're due back to work in ten minutes!” Iwaizumi's coworker combated.
---
His nails had a bubble motif today. A dark blue background with various shades of blue bubbles. Oikawa had a thing for blues and greens, Iwaizumi had realized. He also realized the other man had to be connected to Aoba Johsai in some fashion... if the way he knew Holly, if the way he'd had the two harassment guys banned from the diner by his word alone, if the way he'd carried a cup out of the restaurant without a worry in the world, had anything to say.
He also realized Oikawa had caught him staring, again, and quickly averted his gaze.
Shit.
Everything had changed since the incident. Oikawa knew of his existence, now. It was like Iwaizumi couldn't keep up his casual glances without Oikawa sensing them, now. Or, maybe that had a little more to do with Iwaizumi staring directly at his face, and his hair, his neck, his shoulders, his.. everything, rather than at his nails.
Shit.
Iwaizumi was looking away, so he had no way of knowing if Oikawa was still looking at him, but it felt that way. He took a big gulp of his drink.
“You know,” one of Iwaizumi's coworkers groused, rubbing a hand contemplatively through his short beard. “I think we've pretty much sampled everything off this menu, and then some. And the burgers are delicious, but seem kinda repetitive lately. Do you guys want to switch back over to Philly's for a while?”
Iwaizumi stilled.
Oh.
He had to agree that having the same food over and over was a little much. Philly's had some damn amazing nachos that he'd been craving lately, too. Aoba Johsai didn't have nachos.
But Philly's didn't have Oikawa.
“I'm for it,” a coworker agreed, followed by another affirmative. Iwaizumi gripped the handle of his mug, reared his head back, and started chugging it. There were murmurs of confusion, but Iwaizumi ignored them, throwing his beer back until the last drop fell on his tongue.
“Aah!” Iwaizumi sighed, thumping the empty mug back on the counter and using his forearm to wipe his mouth. With determination fueling his movements, he stood, whipped himself around, and made a beeline for Oikawa's booth. He was by himself today (thank God) reading a book with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Warm brown eyes flickered up at Iwaizumi and widened as the construction worker sat himself in the booth across from Oikawa. “Hi.”
Oikawa stared at him. Iwaizumi quickly realized how stupid he must have looked, marching over here and taking a seat without asking and only managing a 'hi'. And shit, he was still in his work clothes (of course he was!) and how dirty had he gotten today? Had he sweat a lot? Did he stink? Heat bloomed on his face.
“... hi,” Oikawa answered, somewhat warily, though he placed a bookmark in his book and closed it. That was a good sign, right?
“I wanted to say I'm sorry,” Iwaizumi started. Seeing Oikawa's eyebrows furrow, he stormed on, “... for the other day. I really wasn't trying to treat you like you were a damsel in distress, or anything, I was just pissed off at the guy.”
Oikawa tapped his painted nails against the book cover.
“I'm sure guys like that piss a lot of people off,” Oikawa commented. Iwaizumi was going to take that as an acceptance to his apology.
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi agreed. There was a lull in the conversation, and Iwaizumi inwardly panicked. Now what? His crew would probably be going to Philly's tomorrow for lunch, which meant he wouldn't see Oikawa... he had to do something.
“... is that all?” Oikawa asked. He looked genuinely curious, and didn't reach for his book again. It was obvious the man was giving him a chance, here, so Iwaizumi had to take it!
“Your nails are pretty,” Iwaizumi blurted. He glanced down at said nails for a moment, mortification oozing through his body, mortification that turned into sharp panic when he lifted his eyes and saw Oikawa's own narrowed. “Really! I've noticed you change them a lot... I grew up with three sisters, so there was nail polish in basically every room in our house. They even taught me how to do nails... used it against me. Whenever I owed them something, they'd make me paint their nails. But anyway, yours always look really good. Do you do them yourself?”
Iwaizumi snapped his mouth shut, refusing to rant. He suddenly heard laughter from his coworkers, and felt his entire body burn. The urge to sink down into the booth was strong. God, this was humiliating.
In his defense, he never thought he would actually be speaking to Oikawa. Just... staring at him.
Yeah.
Ugh.
Oikawa looked confused, and Iwaizumi couldn't blame him. Those brown eyes glanced in his coworkers' direction, and Iwaizumi suddenly wished he'd waited until they were gone to do this. That was a stupid thought, though, considering if they'd left, he would have had to go with them, because he had work to finish.
He needed help.
“... I do my own nails,” Oikawa answered, resting his back against the booth and giving Iwaizumi a quick scan with his eyes that had Iwaizumi on alert. “... I'm sorry if this offends you, but you don't seem like you'd be very good at painting nails.”
Was that...
Did Oikawa just smile?
It was a simple quirk of the corners of his lips, but it was there. Iwaizumi didn't dare allow himself to linger on it.
“With these big, fumbling fingers?” Iwaizumi asked, holding his hand up and wiggling said fingers. “Easy.”
Oikawa's smile widened. Seeing him smile wasn't anything new. He'd seen Oikawa smile, and even laugh, along with friends. But he'd never seen Oikawa's smile directed at him, and that was the major difference.
“So,” Oikawa said, leaning his forearms against the table and cocking his head to the side. There was a challenging gleam in his eyes and Iwaizumi was once again on alert. “If you've noticed my nails changing a lot, what was your favorite design?”
Iwaizumi blinked.
Was... was Oikawa testing him?
“I laughed at the green ones with the black ovals because it reminded me of an alien,” Iwaizumi said, not backing down from the intense gaze. Oikawa blinked, his eyebrows shooting upwards.
Then he tilted his head back and laughed, and it was the greatest thing.
“It was supposed to be an alien,” Oikawa chuckled, puffing his chest out as if he was proud of that. Which was a little weird, but whatever. It was cute.
An idea, though risky, came to Iwaizumi's mind, and he chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment.
“... I bet I could paint your nails in a design you'd like,” Iwaizumi proposed. Oikawa gasped rather dramatically, tugging his hands close to his chest.
“I take pride in these nails. And I have high expectations, Mr. Big Fumbling Fingers,” Oikawa said, looking skeptical, despite the teasing words, earning a huff of laughter from Iwaizumi.
“I bet I can do it,” Iwaizumi repeated, confidently. He swallowed, ignoring the flutter of butterflies swooping in his stomach as he forced out his next words. “But if I do, you have to go on a date with me.”
Oh God.
He'd actually said it.
Surprise looked almost as pretty on Oikawa's face as his laughter did.
Almost.
“Iwaizumi!” One of his coworkers shouted, effectively ruining the moment. Iwaizumi didn't mean to whip his head toward him with such a venomous glare, but damn it..! “We have to get back to work, lover boy!”
Ugh.
He hoped his face didn't look as red as it felt.
“Iwaizumi, huh?” Oikawa mumbled. Hearing his name from Oikawa's lips instantly had Iwaizumi's attention back on the brunette. He was looking down at his nails thoughtfully, finally slowly meeting Iwaizumi's gaze again. “... if you wreck my nails, I may have to kill you.”
A shiver went through Iwaizumi's spine that was too pleasant to be fear. What the fuck.
“Understood,” Iwaizumi said weakly. Slowly, Oikawa's lips lifted back up into a smile.
“Alright, Iwa-chan, I accept your deal!” Oikawa exclaimed. Iwaizumi's elbow nearly slipped off the table.
“I- Iwa-chan?” Iwaizumi repeated, gaping.
“He's already got a pet name!” One of his coworkers laughed.
“Shut up,” Iwaizumi hissed at them.
“You'll be here tomorrow, then? Lunch time?” Oikawa asked, looking, dare Iwaizumi say it, eager. And wow, that did things to his heart.
“Yeah..” Iwaizumi agreed. Screw the guys. They could go to Philly's all they wanted.
He was coming back to Aoba Johsai to paint the best damn nails he'd ever painted. And he was going to send all three of his sisters a picture of his finished product to make them jealous.
Hopefully along with a picture of himself and his new boyfriend.