Work Text:
Iwaizumi tapped his pen in a staccato rhythm, furrowing his brow as he silently mouthed each syllable of the sentence he was reading. The words felt strange on his tongue.
Pages of English study materials were spread out on the coffee table in a dizzying array of foreign letters and awkward sentence constructions. Next to him, Oikawa hummed thoughtfully while balancing a pencil on his upper lip; it fell off when he startled at a knock on Iwaizumi’s bedroom door.
“Hajime, Tooru-kun, how about a break?” Iwaizumi’s mother stepped inside, a tray of barley tea and snacks balanced on one arm. Oikawa’s eyes lit up as she set down the tray and he pounced at the milk bread, his gratitude quickly muffled by cream and carbs.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” scolded Iwaizumi. He tossed several napkins at Oikawa. “Also, you have crumbs on your face, you slob.”
Iwaizumi’s mother smiled indulgently at the two. “I need to drop by the market to buy a few more things for tonight’s stew; you boys can call me if you need anything.” As she left, she patted Oikawa’s shoulder. “Tooru-kun is welcome to stay for dinner, as usual.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Iwaizumi!” chirped Oikawa, the picture of a model house guest. Then, the minute the door shut, he slid closer with a mischievous grin on his face.
Iwaizumi could already feel the beginnings of a mild headache.
“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chaaaan.” Oikawa drew out the “ah” sound as he rested his chin on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.
Iwaizumi continued to twirl his pen between his fingers while turning to the next page of his textbook, pointedly ignoring the added weight on his right side. “What is it this time?” he said, hoping the open irritation in his voice would deter the setter from whatever stupid ideas he had. In the middle of carefully writing down another sentence (“John will take Mary to the carnival on Friday night”), he felt warm fingers snake their way around his waist and under his shirt. One well aimed smack later, and the hands retreated with a loud yelp of pain from their owner.
“That hurt!”
Iwaizumi rubbed his temples, exhaling loudly. “Serves you right, idiot. I’m trying to finish my homework; you should be doing the same.”
“But it’s boring and no fun at all,” whined Oikawa. His pout became a smirk as his fingers returned to play with the hem of Iwaizumi’s shirt, then brazenly slipped underneath. “Besides, your mom’s out grocery shopping, which means she shouldn’t be back for at least a few hours.” He leaned closer, his hands lightly brushing along the circumference of Iwaizumi’s waist. “Meanwhile, we’re here. All. By. Our. Selves.”
The vice captain didn’t even need to think twice. “No.”
“Come on, at least a kiss or two?”
Iwaizumi gave an involuntary shiver as warm air tickled his nape, suddenly hyper aware of how close Oikawa’s lips would be to his own, were he to turn his head ever so slightly. He felt his face warm with the realization. Mortified by his own thoughts, he shrugged himself out of Oikawa’s grasp then bent down over his worksheet, hoping that his flush had gone unnoticed.
“No. Finish your work.” A beat. And then, hesitantly, “Maybe after that.”
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes at the gleeful noise that followed, and watched the taller boy buckle down to work. He turned back to his own book, scrawling the last few sentences before setting the pen aside, and leaned back. He watched Oikawa wield his writing tool like a sword, a determined expression on his face, and Iwaizumi wondered how he ever agreed to go out with this five-year-old.
**
“Finished!”
Oikawa slammed down his pencil with a triumphant shout. He dove into Iwaizumi’s side, knocking them both onto the floor, and draped himself on top of the other boy with a happy sigh.
“You could’ve given me a concussion just now, stupid Asskawa!!”
Oikawa wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s torso, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “I would never let such a thing happen to my precious Iwa-chan,” the setter replied airily. He went on to press several butterfly kisses down Iwaizumi’s face and neck before blowing a loud raspberry at his clavicle, earning an especially hard smack over the head. Oikawa pouted, but quickly recovered. “Iwa-chan, I want my kiss now!”
“You just had several,” Iwaizumi pointed out.
A smug grin in reply. “I meant with your mouth, of course.”
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “You and your one track mind. Fine.” He tilted his head up while Oikawa leaned down, their mouths meeting in a series of soft, close-mouthed kisses. After the third kiss, Oikawa scrunched his face in mock dissatisfaction. “You should learn to use lip balm more often, Iwa-chan. Your lips are kind of chapped and gross.”
“You should learn when to shut up,” Iwaizumi responded in kind, no actual heat behind his words. He also refused to admit that he was actually rather fond of the mint flavor that Oikawa’s lips currently tasted of.
Oikawa mimed zipping his mouth, grinning as he leaned in for another kiss. This time, he licked teasingly at the seam of his boyfriend's lips, silently asking for permission. Iwaizumi relented, opening his mouth to meet him halfway. After a few lazy exchanges, Iwaizumi drew a hand up to cup the back of Oikawa’s head, his fingers threading through carefully styled locks. He resisted the sudden urge to ruffle the strands loose from their gelled bindings, knowing that doing so would elicit an endless stream of complaints from the setter. When they broke apart for air, Oikawa curled in slightly to lay his head on his boyfriend’s chest, contentedly tracing little swirls (or were they alien crop circles?) over Iwaizumi’s heart.
“I love you, Hajime.”
It took Iwaizumi a split second to register the phrase, and when it did his heart stuttered in surprise.
Judging by Oikawa’s muffled snort, he’d felt it, too.