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Iwaizumi Hajime was having a bad morning. It was rare, (according to him, his first period class would disagree) but even he could recognize that this morning was being cruel to him. His travel coffee mug was still in the dishwasher, having forgotten to turn it on last night, so he was holding a cup of shitty K-Cup coffee from the cafeteria in his right hand, and a stack of essays in the other. His first period class was most often obedient and quiet, exactly what he needed this morning, which is why he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the raucous laughter emanating from his classroom.
You have got to be kidding me.
Perched nonchalantly on top of his desk was Oikawa Tooru, looking as unruffled and unperturbed as always. He currently had his head thrown back in laughter at something one of the students had said. Iwaizumi felt the throbbing in his temples simultaneously alleviate and worsen. Why was he here? His department was on the other end of campus, not to mention he didn’t have a first period class, so he always came in late.
“Iwaizumi-san, good morning!” Oikawa singsonged.
Iwaizumi merely grunted in reply. He tried for an amicable, welcoming grunt, but judging by the slightly disturbed looks on his student’s faces, his attempt fell squarely in the neanderthalic category.
“What a way with words you have, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa teased, his grin only spreading wider when Iwaizumi’s face morphed into a deeper scowl.
“I was taking a healthy morning stroll when I ended up near the History Department.” Oikawa continued, his trademark smile plastered over his face.
“Huh.” Iwaizumi commented, returning Oikawa’s smile with his trademark “I-see-through-your-bullshit” expression.
“Exactly. And I just happened to notice that you were running a tad late, and figured I would keep your students company by regaling them with joyful tales courtesy of the astrophysics department.” At this juncture, many of Iwaizumi’s students nodded emphatically, some giggling. (presumably about the stories.)
“Right. I hope you’re not here on some sort of fucked up espionage mission to convert my History majors to Science majors.” Iwaizumi accused.
Oikawa gasped dramatically, raising his hand to point at Iwaizumi.
“Iwa-chan, did you just swear? How dare you?! These are children! I will not stand blithely by while you corrupt them with your foul mouth.” By the end of his declaration, many of Iwaizumi’s students were outright laughing, struggling with the effort to sit upright. Even Iwaizumi began to crack a smile, though he quickly schooled his expression to one of dead seriousness.
“We’re college professors, Oikawa. Not preschool teachers.” Iwaizumi delivered this line in what he hoped was a deadpan manner, and not the amused fondness that was beginning to bleed into his voice and smile.
“I know that, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa pouted. Iwaizumi had to bite down on his bottom lip to contain the smile threatening to spill over onto his face.
“Excuse me, Iwaizumi-sensei?” Iwaizumi looked over to see a student with her hand up in the air.
“Yes, Miko-san?”
“Can we also call you Iwa-chan?” Miko-san had a shit-eating grin on her face, and winked at Oikawa.
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, and fixed Oikawa with a disapproving frown. “She’s one of yours isn’t she?”
“Miko-san is an incredibly capable astronomy student who is minoring in some liberal arts thing, if that was your question.” Oikawa responded, deliberately circumlocuting.
“For the record,” Iwaizumi stated, turning to his class, “none of you may call me Iwa-chan. That’s an annoyance reserved for this asshole.”
Oikawa began to protest, when Iwaizumi continued, “An asshole who is leaving right now.”
Iwaizumi practically shoved Oikawa out the door, all while Oikawa espoused the benefits of having an astrophysics degree. As he closed the door, Iwaizumi couldn’t help but smile. He allowed himself to indulge for approximately 7 seconds before he returned his attention to his class.
“Alright everyone, quiet down. I know that having a Science professor here is always an interesting morning, but before you end up in too good of a mood, we need to discuss your last essays. Emiko-san, Hikaru-san, please divide this stack and pass back papers.”
Iwaizumi strolled back to his desk, allowed a couple minutes of solitude as his students received their grades and looked over any and all mistakes. By now, his shitty K-Cup coffee was probably cold, but he didn’t have nearly enough caffeine running through his veins to make it through the day yet. As he reached for the cup, he noticed his travel coffee mug sitting on his desk chair, out of sight. Stuck on it was a post-it note that read, “You left this at home, Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi picked up the mug, and sniffed at the liquid inside. His favorite Ethiopian brew, strong and dark. He took a long sip, and perched on top of his desk, ready to assign essay revisions at last.
Don’t get it wrong. He was still having a bad day. He was still in just as bad of a mood, and that asshole had nothing to do with any sudden and drastic changes. (Shut up.)
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When Iwaizumi opened the door to his apartment that night, he practically collapsed in a heap in the front room.
The day had been long, regardless of if he had been in a good or bad mood. It didn’t help matters that most of his students had failed their last essays, a new style of prompt that he had been testing out clearly not working very well. He had been forced to consider grading them on a curve, once faced with the exhausted and disappointed faces of his students. Then, he was faced with the teasing of his fellow faculty for being soft on his students. His brief and only respite came when Sawamura-san, another history teacher, commended him quietly, and placed a cup of gourmet coffee on his desk.
Iwaizumi sighed, and collapsed into an armchair in the living room. He was so caught up in his own exhaustion, he didn’t hear someone else come down the stairs.
“Iwa-chan? Are you okay?”
Iwaizumi looked up to see his husband peeking into the living room, half hiding behind one of the walls.
“What are you doing, Shittykawa? Come here.”
“I-I was a little worried that you were mad at me.” Oikawa admitted. When Iwaizumi continued to stare blankly at him, he added, “For this morning.” Iwaizumi’s face softened, and he beckoned Oikawa forward. Once Oikawa had taken a seat in his lap, Iwaizumi buried his face into Oikawa’s shoulder. “Tooru, I don’t know what I would have done without you today.” Oikawa melted, wrapping his arms around his husband, trying to soothe him. “You’re never without me, Hajime.” Oikawa whispered. Iwaizumi’s lips quirked into a soft smile, and Oikawa couldn’t help but kiss him. After a couple seconds, Iwaizumi pulled back. “This is not an open invitation for you to come into my class whenever you like.” he stated firmly, trying for the authority he held in the classroom. “That’s exactly what it sounded like,” Oikawa teased. Iwaizumi groaned and stood up, pulling his husband into the kitchen to have dinner. He figured Oikawa understood what he was trying to convey.
Actually, scratch that. Iwaizumi decided he should be prepared for Oikawa to drop in much more often. This was exactly Oikawa’s idea of a good time. Just the prospect annoyed him, and yet…
...if it didn’t bother as much as it should have, he figured that was okay too.