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When Oikawa told Hajime they would be spending the evening together, he assumed it would be just the two of them. It was nearing Christmas after all; perhaps Oikawa had planned a romantic dinner at a restaurant, or even just a night out in town. No schoolwork, no college, no worries. Completely stress-free, just the two of them.
Of course, Hajime had set his sights too high. Because naturally, when Oikawa said they would be spending the evening together, he didn’t mean they’d be spending the evening with just the two of them. He meant they’d be spending the evening together spying on Oikawa’s kouhai at a study session with his crush and classmate.
Case in point: Yahaba Shigeru, Oikawa’s favorite junior, with one of Hajime’s roommates, Kyoutani Kentarou.
“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, look!” Oikawa’s leaning too forward on the library desk, his eyes gleefully wide as he takes in the sight of Kyoutani talking to Yahaba. “They’re flirting.”
“They’re talking, Shittykawa. What the hell are you on and honestly, what the hell are we doing here?” Hajime gripes.
His boyfriend doesn’t spare a glance towards hi, but a finger waggles his way. “Ah-ah-ah, Iwa-chan! You don’t hear what I hear!” He taps his forehead with a sly, knowing grin. “Unlike you plebeians, I can hear everything going on up here!”
Hajime facepalms. “Keep into your own business, Crappykawa.”
“But Shigeru-chan asked me to help him get with KyouKen!”
“I’m almost like, 125% sure that when he said ‘help him date Kyoutani,’ he did not mean spy on their study session.”
Oikawa doesn’t respond—his dark brown eyes are glued on Yahaba and Kyoutani on the opposing table on the far side of the library and Hajime groans.
He definitely was not going anywhere anytime soon. Unless he was willing to ditch his boyfriend and both he and Oikawa know he won’t be doing that at any given time. He grips the wooden table and feels it dent under his fingers. Well shit.
As though he was listening to Hajime’s frustrated thoughts, Oikawa tsks underneath his breath and wow, Hajime really wants to smash Oikawa’s face in. With his fists.
“That’s not nice, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says idly and Hajime’s caught off guard by the movement of Oikawa’s pale pink lips, soft and plump and ready for kissing—
“Much better,” his boyfriend sings, and never mind. Hajime’s going to smash his pretty, kissable lips into his stupid, mindreading brain.
Whether Oikawa heard his following thoughts or not is unknown to him, because he suddenly jumps up, clasping his hands together. The book he had been hiding behind falls to the table with a loud thump and Hajime yanks at Oikawa’s arm.
“Sit down!” he hisses, but Oikawa pulls away, his gaze firmly on Yahaba and Kyoutani.
They had stood up and were now having a quiet conversation; Yahaba’s doing all the talking and his hands move in small gestures as he speaks, while Kyoutani nods along. Despite Kyoutani’s super dog hearing, it appeared he had not heard Oikawa’s noise and Hajime really fucking prays that he doesn’t hear them at all.
Finally, they finish and Yahaba waves at a leaving Kyoutani as he gathers his belongings using his levitation. The minute the door shuts behind the blond-haired male, Yahaba turns and looks directly at them, his brown eyes narrowed.
“Oikawa-senpai, Iwaizumi-senpai. What are you doing here?” he says slowly, lips curled.
“Ah! Yahaba-chan! What a coincidence!” Oikawa trills, but Yahaba isn’t stupid.
He makes his way over to the pair of them and Hajime feels his lifespan shorten by thirty years—Yahaba’s fully glowering at them (though most of the glare is directed at his stupid boyfriend). He stops in front of them, arms crossed and Hajime sees a bead of sweat drop from Oikawa’s forehead (he almost laughs; Oikawa is one-year Yahaba’s senior and here he is, looking terrified of his kouhai).
“Oikawa-senpai. What are you doing here?” he enunciates. Oikawa’s forehead sheds another sweat droplet.
“Ahahaha...studying?”
“Liar!” He whacks his senpai in the head with a nearby book (the same one Oikawa had hidden behind),
“Ow! How could you hurt your dear senpai?” Oikawa whines and both Yahaba and Hajime roll their eyes at the same time. Causing the former to pout even more.
Yahaba flicks a look to Hajime, eyebrow arched: is he always like this?
A tired grin in return: unfortunately, yes.
“Stop talking about me!”
Hajime heaves a sigh. “Shittykawa, we weren’t even saying anything.”
“With your eyes you were!”
Hajime exchanges another look with Yahaba, who’s fully grinning at him, almost feral like a coyote. He returns it, feeling just as snarky, and there’s another cry of, “STOP THAT!”
—
Hajime can hear the noise from the triple dorm room before even reaching their floor. It’s raucous, rowdy laughter at almost eleven at night, and he feel the impounding headache slam his brain.
There’s a cackle and a shriek of “FUCK” from behind the door and Hajime massages his temples before opening the door (Thank god he had walked Oikawa to his dorm before going to his; the headache would get twice as worse if his guess as to who is currently in his room is correct).
He counts to three, inhaling and exhaling sharply, before unlocking and door and walking in.
Sure enough, one of his roommates, Kuroo, sits cross legged on his bed with his boyfriend, Kenma, curled in his lap. They’re both holding video game controllers, eyes focused on the screen. At the foot of Kuroo’s bed, Bokuto, one of Oikawa’s roommates, is half standing as he tries to block Kuroo’s sight. Slim, dark haired Akaashi is in the corner, a book in hand and legs stretched out so that they brush Bokuto’s ankles.
Akaashi is the first to see him and he raises his hand in greeting, just as Bokuto screams and Kuroo tips his head back and laughs.
“Hey Akaashi!” Hajime shouts over the loudness of his roommate and his best friend. “Where’s Kyoutani?”
Kenma lifts his head up to peer at Hajime, his golden eyes hazy with exhaustion and probably staring at the screen for too long. “Kyoutani’s in the bathroom, Hajime. I think he might be there for a while, considering…” He nods towards Bokuto and Kuroo and the now clear screen (ah, Mario Kart, breaker of all friendships).
Hajime nods in understanding, just as Kuroo’s rooster head pokes up from Bokuto’s headlock.
“Oh, hey Iwaizumi! Sorry about the mess...and the noise,” Kuroo says, a sheepish grin.
“Apologize to the neighbors about the noise,” Hajime replies, bending down to pick up a soda can. He drops it into a trash can before dropping his belongings onto his bed. “Seriously though, what the hell are you guys doing?”
“Playing Mario Kart!” Bokuto volunteers all-too-enthusiastically for eleven pm.
“You have Kuroo in a headlock,” Hajime says, and this time, it’s Kenma who shrugs.
“Semantics. I’m playing Mario Kart. They’re being dumb,” Kenma says and Kuroo rips himself out of Bokuto’s grip to throw himself at his boyfriend.
“Kenmaa! Why are you so mean to your boyfriend?” he whines and the smaller boy shoves him off, dropping him on the floor without a hint of remorse. There’s a ‘ meow’ when Kuroo hits the floor, and a black cat peers up at Kenma, a distraught expression on its face.
“You’re distracting me,” is all he says, returning to his video game.
Bokuto hoots his laughter from the floor and feathers begin to sprout from his arms the harder he laughs. Meanwhile, cat Kuroo is full on pouting now, pawing at Kenma’s arm. Akaashi’s thoroughly ignoring their antics, but he does look up to say, “Bokuto-san. Please be quieter; it’s too late for you to be this loud and you’re shedding feathers.”
“I’m going to see how Kyoutani’s doing,” Hajime says, though he knows no one’s listening and he ambles to the small bathroom in the corner. “Yo, Kyoutani? You good in there, man?”
Silence. Hajime knocks again, before he tries the handle. It opens with a click and he finds Kyoutani on the floor, a manga upside down next to him and piles of shredded papers.
Kyoutani’s eyes are flared, his expression shifting into a startled dog’s, but it disappears almost immediately, a hostile one replacing it.
“Leave,” he growls, and Hajime’s voice in stuck in his throat. There’s a single image frozen in his mind, and he can only bob his head twice, before he hurries out and shuts the door.
He staggers over to his bed and he catches sight of Akaashi’s curious stare when he collapses face down onto his pillow.
No fucking way.
Oikawa was fucking right. Just before he had left the bathroom, he had seen the messy scrawl of four words on a ripped piece of paper.
Yahaba, I like you.
—
Oikawa pays for their breakfast. Thankfully, Hajime had not needed to coerce his boyfriend to buy him breakfast that morning; the events of the night before were convincing enough.
They sit at an outside table, a plate of sausages, eggs, and bacon, with a black coffee in front of Hajime and pancakes drizzled with syrup, fruit, and powdered sugar, with a caramel latte for Oikawa.
It’s shockingly warm out, despite the winter season. The sun is bright in the sky, paired with lazy white clouds and heavier gray ones in the distance—basically a perfect enough morning date.
“Mm, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa hums around a bite of pancakes. “What’s going on? You sounded quite frazzled when you texted me last night.”
Hajime meets his boyfriend’s stare and Oikawa scans him, his thoughts for a moment. He can almost feel Oikawa’s presence in his head—carefully curious and sifting through his thoughts.
And then, he feels when Oikawa retracts his mental presence and guffaws out loud. His laughter flies in the open air and Hajime groans.
“Trashkawa, shut the fuck up.”
But his words go unheeded as Oikawa throws his head back and laughs harder, slamming his fist onto the table.
“Shittykawa I swear to god—
“Watch it, Iwa-chan, you might break the table,” Oikawa chortles through his giggles. “And say it out loud, Iwa-chan!”
“Say what?” he snarls and his boyfriend’s grin grows even larger, as he tries to smother his laughter and smugness.
“You know,” he says back. “Oh wait, let me get my phone to record—
“You were right about Yahaba and Kyoutani,” Hajime relents and Oikawa makes a face.
“I wanted to record it!”
“Hell no.”
“I’ll give you good payment later,” Oikawa responds and Hajime chokes, but he continues on. “So, you saw KyouKen-chan writing a love letter to my dear kouhai?”
“Yes,” he grunts, shoveling a piece of sausage into his mouth.
“And did it say anything else other than ‘Yahaba, I like you’?”
“Nope. But there were other papers so it probably wasn’t the first one,” Hajime says, pulling away from his now empty plate. “Thanks for the meal, by the way.”
“Mhm, anything for my Iwa-chan,” Oikawa answers, sending a flush of pink down Hajime’s neck. “Aw, you’re blushing, that’s cute,” he adds offhandedly and Hajime glares. Underneath his clenched hands, the wooden table cracks.
“Shut up, dumbass.”
“Anyways, do you think KyouKen threw those notes out?” Oikawa wonders thoughtfully, his fingers drumming against the table.
Hajime shrugs. “Probably. If he didn’t, Kuroo would’ve picked them up and we all know what Kuroo would do with those.”
“Give them to Bokuto-chan, who would give them to Yahaba-chan, who would consequently go after Kyoutani, confess his love, and Kyoutani would kill both my roommate and yours.”
“Yup.”
A feral grin flashes over Oikawa’s face and Hajime’s stomach sinks.
“Say, Iwa-chan. Would you like to do me a favor?”
Shit.
—
The plan is for Hajime to go through Kyoutani's trash (yes, an excellent idea, thank you Oikawa Tooru, love of Iwaizumi Hajime's sad little life). Considering that it’s Wednesday and trash day is Fridays, Kyoutani’s love letters would still be in his trash can and since Hajime’s classes normally ends before Kyoutani’s, he could go home, find the letters, and give them to Oikawa.
Then Oikawa would pass them off to Yahaba, who would confess to Kyoutani and yes, yes, all would go well, Oikawa had assured.
Hajime is not assured that everything would go well. Hajime is, however, very assured that Kyoutani would rip his throat out with his dog fangs, quite literally.
Sure, with Hajime’s super strength, he could probably fight back against Kyoutani’s Doberman form, but he didn’t care for attacking his roommate. It definitely would make the rest of the year extremely awkward.
Though Kyoutani would have no hesitation in doing so.
“Yo, Iwaizumi.” A hand claps Hajime on the back and he blinks, meeting the concerned eyes of Sawamura Daichi and his boyfriend, Sugawara Koushi.
“Hey Daichi, Suga. What’s up?” he greets. The other two shrug in unison.
“Well, I was going to ask you how you think you did on the physics test, but you look quite worried about something else,” Daichi says, eyebrows furrowed. “You alright?”
“Eh. Somewhat. Oikawa’s just being…”
“Oikawa?” Suga suggests, half jokingly.
Hajime nods and Suga smiles at him. It’s shockingly disarming and he feels himself relaxing, the crease on his forehead flattening. The tenseness in his shoulders disappears and Hajime sighs with relief—he loves Suga’s powers.
“Better?” Suga asks and Hajime nods.
“Loads better.”
“Good.” Suga brushes a strand of silver hair behind his ear, revealing their slight point. He was an elf, with mystic powers of controlling others’ emotions. With just a touch or brief glance, Suga could make people relax, or even get angry beyond words.
Even now, Hajime could feel Suga’s emanating aura, despite his attention being elsewhere. He was ridiculously powerful, and Hajime’s super strength had nothing against Suga’s control of emotion.
“Now, what’s going on with Oikawa?” Daichi asks, his gaze steady. “You can tell us you know, if you’re worried or need to vent. We won’t say anything.”
It’s one of the things Hajime likes about Daichi and Suga: unlike most of his friends, they’re not the prying type, nor the gossip.
“Oikawa’s trying to matchmake again, and I’m pretty sure one of the people involved is going to kill me,” he grumbles.
“Ah.”
“One of your roommates?” Suga asks sympathetically. “The scary one, I’m assuming. KyouKen, from what Oikawa called him.”
“Kyoutani,” Hajime corrects. “And yeah, Yahaba. Oikawa’s kouhai and dormmate.”
“Ooo I could see that.” The elf grins towards the sky, before pulling out his phone. Daichi pushes Suga’s phone away, smile broad but warning, before turning back to Hajime.
“I’m sorry and I hope you survive,” Daichi says apologetically, his smile turning sheepish. “If you need a dorm to run to, you can come to mine and Suga’s.”
Hajime scoffs and nudges his friend. “Please. You and Suga would be too busy to let me in.”
Daichi turns an alarming shade of read and Suga laughs. “He’s not wrong there!”
His boyfriend starts to cough and Suga pats him on the back. “There, there. Let out the embarrassment.”
Hajime grins at the couple’s antics, before turning over his shoulder. “This one’s my hall, so I’ll see you guys later.”
“Bye Iwaizumi!” The elf waves cheerfully as he slides his other arm around Daichi. As Hajime walks away, he hears him tease the other even more, and Hajime shakes his head.
What a match.
He waves his key card at the scanner in the front and he ambles in, making his way to his room. When Hajime stops in front of his dorm, he feels his stomach roil; there’s still that thing he promised Oikawa he’d do.
With a grimace, Hajime enters the room and to his utter relief, it’s empty. He double checks he bathroom and the beds and when he’s sure no one’s in the room, he starts to dig through Kyoutani’s trash can.
It’s fairly innocent and nothing gross like Kuroo’s; there’s crumpled old assignments, a few snack wrappers, a can of energy drink. But there’s no sign of the shredded papers that had been on the bathroom floor the night before.
Hajime curses; where the hell could Kyoutani have disposed of them?
His phone vibrates in his pant pocket, followed by the annoying chirp he’d set as Oikawa’s ringtone. Hajime answers after the second ring.
“Yo, I couldn’t find—
“Iwa-chan, get down to the library now!”
He blinks rapidly. “But I didn’t find the—
“Doesn’t matter! Just hurry before you miss it!” Oikawa hisses, before the phone line beeps.
“The fuck…” Hajime rubs his temples before he shoves his phone into his pocket and runs out the door.
—
Hajime bursts through the library and immediately, an arm yanks him down behind the desk. Oikawa.
“What the hell Shittykawa?!” he snaps, glaring at his boyfriend. “First, you make me dig through—
“Shh! Look!” Oikawa’s bouncing with excitement, his attention solely beyond Hajime and he can only sigh and look; he’s going to get nowhere with Oikawa in his current state of mind.
To his surprise, Yahaba and Kyoutani are standing at a face off: papers and pencils hover around Yahaba, as if ready to attack Kyoutani, whilst the latter only had a full, plastic bag in hand.
“You’re late,” Yahaba says gruffly, eyes narrowed.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“By half an hour.”
Kyoutani winces and Yahaba throws his hands up exasperatedly. “Do you know how long I waited for you?!”
“Half an hour?” Kyoutani shoots dryly and the other groans, clenching his fists.
“That’s not the point!”
“Ahh, Yahaba-chan, calm down,” Oikawa murmurs, pressing two fingers against his temples, as if trying to mentally relay his thoughts to his kouhai. “Let him speak.”
“Then what is?” Kyoutani folds his arms, returning Yahaba’s petrifying glare.
The other sighs dramatically again, throwing his hands up, and this time, the hovering objects follow his motions—they shoot into the ceiling before dropping to the ground.
“Fucking—never mind.” It’s then the levitator’s attention directs to the plastic bag in Kyoutani’s hands. “The hell is that?”
“It’s for you,” he says, and without warning, dumps it’s contents on the floor at Yahaba’s feet.
Hajime feels his eyes widen. Holy shit. Kid has balls.
Oikawa bounces in his spot again, his eyes shining, and Hajime reaches over and drops one of his hands onto his thigh, willing him to calm. Oikawa looks at him, surprised, and moves to cover his hand with his own, before looking back at Yahaba and Kyoutani.
Yahaba’s nose is wrinkled and he scowls at the shifter. “The hell is this?”
“Read one.”
Very slowly, oh-so-gingerly, Yahaba bends down and picks a slip of paper up.
“I like your stupid cream puff hair,” he reads out loud, before arching an eyebrow at the note. “Kyou—
“Keep going,” Kyoutani snaps, and his face is a pale shade of pink, his ears red. The other boy stares at him for a moment, clearly stunned, before reaching for another piece of paper. Kyoutani sits down across from him, watching as he mouths the words of each slip.
Your smile is cute.
I love how determined you are.
You remind me of a prissy poodle.
I like the way your eyes shine when you play volleyball.
Your sets are perfect for me.
I love the way my name sounds on your tongue.
Oikawa murmurs each message to Hajime, and they both watch as Yahaba’s cheeks get redder and redder, until he’s almost the same shade as Kyoutani’s ears.
Yahaba gets down to the final one in the pile, and this one he reads out loud. “Yahaba.” His voice hitches at his name. “I really have it bad for you.”
“I do,” Kyoutani breathes quietly. “I really fucking do, Yahaba, you have no idea.”
“Well, I kinda do now,” Yahaba says softly. “Kyou...I—
“Say you’ll go out with me,” Kyoutani interrupts, his golden eyes flashing. “Go on a date with me and be my boyfriend or whatever the hell they call it, Yahaba.”
“Boyfriend? You haven’t even taken me on a date,” Yahaba teases, stepping closer and placing a hand on his chest.
Kyoutani smirks, a lazy thing that curves slowly on his face. “Well, say yes to that date then. Shigeru. ”
“Yes, I’ll go out with you, Kentarou.” Yahaba’s face flushes even pinker, matching with Kyoutani’s and they smile at each other broadly.
Hajime feels his heart soften at the sight: Kyoutani and Yahaba were a good match. Yahaba brings out Kyoutani’s soft side and Kyoutani fuels Yahaba with a fierce determination.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t see Oikawa stand up and holler, “YOU’RE WELCOME YAHABA-CHAN!”
Fuck.
Both Kyoutani and Yahaba turn around and they wear matching glares.
“You’re welcome?” Yahaba demands incredulously. “Oikawa-senpai, you didn’t do anything.”
“I encouraged you, that’s what I did!”
“ I did all the confessing,” Kyoutani grumbles and Yahaba nods vehemently.
“Sit down, Shittykawa,” Hajime grouses, and he stands too pulling at his boyfriend’s arm. Oikawa had already been seen; there’s no use in hiding now. “We’re leaving.”
“But Iwa-chan! I wanna stay and embarrass Yahaba-chan more!” Oikawa pouts, hanging onto Hajime’s arm. “Can’t we stay?”
“No way,” Hajime scowls down at him. “Let’s go. You’re paying for my lunch.”
“I already paid for breakfast!”
“Too bad.”
“Hey Iwaizumi,” Kyoutani drawls with a little wave and Hajime waves back.
“Congrats you two!” he says and they both blush deeply, though Kyoutani is the first to recover. He flicks a heavy glance to Yahaba, his golden eyes warm with adoration and something else Hajime couldn’t place.
“Thanks. But…”
Hajime blinks as Kyoutani pauses to sniff the air and his nose wrinkles, eyebrows furrowing.
“If you’re making Oikawa take you out to lunch, you might wanna change. You kinda smell like a trash can.”
Oikawa tips his head back and laughs.