Chapter Text
Quarantine
A/N: Inspired by a sound from Tiktok. Took some time to pick a character because, as much as I love you all, you didn’t give me wonderful suggestions. Binging Haikyuu with my fiancé led to inspiration so here you are.
Quarantine.
It was a frightening word. It was heavy, lording itself over humanity’s head, threatening humankind into submission.
It left you stuck at home, entertaining yourself to the best of your abilities. You didn’t have a large family, so your house was generally quiet, and it wasn’t like you could invite friends over. The internet company had suspended your bill, giving you free access without spending excess money, so you spend most of your time glued to your laptop. Your interests bounced between Instagram, Facebook, and Tumblr, and when your mutual followers were unavailable for chatting, you took to playing games or writing stories.
It was late morning one Saturday, and you were sat at your desk in front of your laptop, mug of tea in hand. Beside your laptop was a plate of scones, perfect for nibbling while you waited for someone to have time for you.
A video chat popped up in your Instagram, and you raised a brow. It was a username you recognized from your news feed, but it wasn’t someone you regularly spoke to.
Kittykawa is video calling you.
Nibbling your lip curiously, you answered the call, nearly falling out of your chair at the face that met your gaze. On the other end of the call sat the most beautiful brunet you’d ever seen, his hair soft-looking and slightly curled at the ends. His chocolate brown eyes were bright and sparkling with interest, but you didn’t know at what the interest was directed. His fair skin was smooth, and you were overwhelmed with the desire to caress his cheek, even though you’d never spoken before.
“Uh… hey?” you greeted lamely, uncertain as to why this beautiful angel called you in the first place.
“Hey,” he grinned, and hell, his smile was perfect because of course it was.
“Not that I mind, but,” you began, hesitating as you struggled to word your confusion in a way that wouldn’t offend him, “why the video call? Have we spoken before and I’m have an amnesia episode?”
He chuckled, and that sound did mushy, tingly things to your inside. “No, we haven’t spoken. I’ve commented on some of your posts, you’ve commented on some of mine.”
That much you remembered, but somehow you didn’t remember the photos on his profile being quite this handsome.
“Did my comments intrigue you?” you questioned before you could stop yourself.
He shrugged. “You’re cute. You’re funny. I thought you’d be nice to talk to.”
Cute. Funny. Forgetting how to breathe.
“Thanks, I think,” was your lame reply, and you mentally slapped yourself. “So, uh… How are you doing? With the quarantine and all?”
The beautiful angel chuckled again, and you were pretty sure that sound would be the last thing you heard before you succumbed to the sweet call of death. “It sucks, honestly. I hate not being able to even go in my yard. I’m an outdoorsy kind of guy, you know?”
You found yourself nodding, even though you absolutely did not know, because you very much enjoyed being indoors. You went outside when you had to, for school or grocery shopping or hanging out with the few friends you’d made, but you weren’t athletic or outgoing.
“Right,” you agreed, desperate to keep the conversation going and keep the brunet online. “What did you do for fun? Before all this shit happened, I mean.”
“I’m on the volleyball team,” he claimed proudly, and damn, did that mental image go straight to the front of your sweatpants.
“O-oh?” you managed shakily, unable to stop your brain from imagining his fair skin glistening with sweat, his lanky frame snuggly wrapped in a jersey and shorts. The angle of his webcam only offered you a chest-up view, but it was enough for daydreaming.
He nodded enthusiastically, either unaware or unbothered by the drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. “I’m the captain of our team, and also the setter.”
“That sounds awesome!” you contributed. You had no idea what a setter was, but being captain sounded important. You’d watched your own school play volleyball once or twice, since you had friends in the club, but you didn’t learn much about the game, having only gone as moral support. “What school do you play for?”
There was a pause, and you mentally slapped yourself again. How could you be so forward? You’d never spoken to this hottie before, there’s no way he would-
“Aoba Johsai,” he grinned, and suddenly everything clicked. The swoop of his hair and the determination in his eyes had been familiar from the second you answered the call, but you’d assumed it was just from stalking his profile.
“Something wrong?” he questioned, and you realized that you’d been quiet for too long.
You shook your head. “N-no, I’m good. Sorry, I just recognized that name. My school, the volleyball club has some sort of beef with yours, I guess?”
That piqued his interest. He leaned forward, thin brows quirked as he tilted his head adorably. “What school do you go to, then?”
“Karasuno,” you murmured, and his lips split into a grin.
“Ahh, the Karasuno volleyball club,” he clarified. “Yeah, I know them well. Some of my teammates went to middle school with their setter, Kageyama.”
You nodded softly. “I know him, kind of. I’ve watched them play a few times but I don’t know very much about volleyball.”
“You should come to a game sometime,” he winked. He fucking winked. “I bet a cutie like you watching me play would bring me good luck.”
Your cheeks had to be on fire this time. You fumbled for a response, tripping over your own tongue repeatedly while he simply grinned at you.
“Y-yeah,” you nodded. “After this whole quarantine thing is over… I’d love to watch you play.”
Where did that confidence come from??
“I could even give you a private show, if you want,” he offered. “Teach you a few moves.”
You absolutely did not swoon, you swore you didn’t, but the chuckle rumbling in Hot Volleyball Guy’s throat proved otherwise.
Someone shouted in the background, and he called back to them before looking back at you. “I should go. It’s lunch time. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“I’d like that,” you managed. Regular calls with this guy sounded like an amazing idea. Realizing that maybe you shouldn’t refer to him in your head as Hot Volleyball Guy, you struggled to catch his attention before he ended the call.
“Wait! You never told me your name!”
He smiled innocently like he hadn’t spend the last hour melting your insides. “Toru Oikawa. What’s yours?”
You gave it, and he repeated it, and you pondered which corner of the yard they would dig your grave in when you accidentally suffocated yourself.
“Talk to you later,” he promised, offering you a wave before the call went dead. You stared at the end-of-call screen, eyes wide and unwavering, before exhaling a loud yelp and falling back, your chair crashing to the floor.