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Abruptly being awoken from your sleep, you swatted your hand around you trying to find the noisy culprit responsible for interrupting your much-needed sleep. Subconsciously, you already had a gut feeling about who could possibly be calling at this ungodly hour. While lifting your hand up you managed to croak out an almost undecipherable “hello?”.
The deeper, masculine voice unmistakingly belonged to your long-time friend, Iwaizumi Hajime, the shakiness, worry and sheer uncertainty in his voice makes you feel instantly more awake.
“Y/N, could you come to the club please? I need you right now.” The phrase is enough to send you almost flying out of bed; your mind silently cussing him out, partly for making you worried, and partly because you just wanted sleep. It wasn’t uncommon for him to call you after any kind of boxing game and neither was it uncommon for boxing games for the adult men to take place later at night.
He’d always call you whenever he needed help. You, the reliable one as always. Your feet seemed to carry you towards the front door, haphazardly grabbing your keys from their designated spot on the counter of your apartment; the other hand trying to wipe away the sleepy feeling washing over you in waves.
There you are, wobbling on your legs, pushing open the door to the familiar club you’d spent so much time with your best friend. Nothing really prepared you for the sight you’d soon be facing. There he was, sat on one of the benches, dimmed lights filled the room with low light. Your eyes took him in, curiously searching for the reason as to why he could’ve possibly called you right now. Hands wrapped in protective tape, wrists resting right above his knees as his head was cast downwards. The gym was mostly empty except for a few people cleaning the space up; making your way over to where he was currently sitting you made sure to call out to him.
“Hajime...? What’s up?” Your voice cautiously rung out, easily rising out from the background noise. As his body turned to face to you, a less-than-genuine smile forced its way onto his face; you could tell whether it was genuine, you’d like to think of yourself as a little Iwaizumi analysis guide after spending so many years with him. However, you could never really figure out if he felt the same way ever since you’d developed that small nagging crush in your third year. The feeling was always there, quite like a little figurative devil that followed you around, you had become quite the expert at hiding it after almost leaking your little secret. You weren’t one to make a move if you weren’t sure there was a chance that the person would actually feel the same way.
Your eyes moved to the bruising forming on his chest, reddish splotches on his chest and arms. Older bruises were still present, making the view all the more worrying to you. His chest and stomach were littered with blue-purple-ish and red patches. His lip was busted and his eye seemed to be swelling shut.
You could swear you felt your heart drop to your stomach; your body lunging forward, grabbing his hands as he winced at the sudden movement. “Some carefulness wouldn’t hurt,” his light-hearted joke didn’t seem to be changing much about your current state of worry, your eyes searching to meet his as he kept trying to avoid your unwavering gaze.
“What happened?” your voice sounded thick with concern; brows furrowed.
“I think you can tell what happened, you’re smart Y/N, I lost a match” the side of his mouth curled up; his token expression whenever he took a playful dig at you. As you got closer to his face, you couldn’t help but graze your finger over the busted lip; wondering if it hurt as much as you thought it did. When he winced you pulled back, you felt as if you had been pulled out of some kind of dream. The stare you both gave each other felt like it lasted ages, you managed to tear yourself away, clumsily finding your words.
“C’mon, let’s get you out of here” you avoid any kind of eye-contact, pursing your lips as you lend him your shoulder; Draping his arm over it, you help him up and start walking back to your car. A deafening, tension-filled, silence took over. Neither one of you said anything as you quietly opened the passenger door of your car, giving him support as to allow him to climb in. You sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye, keeping an eye on the road; he looks slightly distraught.
“Not used to losing, Hajime?” a small smile settles itself on your lips as you let your gaze fall back on the road, fingers drumming rhythmically on the steering wheel. He hummed, eyes skimming over your relaxed figure leaning against the car seat, he notices every single detail about you. Your presence makes him feel at ease, something about you has always made him feel that way. You somehow knew what to say during the moments when he was speechless, you were reliable and you had an incredibly kind heart. You’d been friends for over 6 years, you met in high school and kept the friendship going throughout college. He supported you in your pursuit of higher education, while you supported him in his ambition to go pro with his boxing.
Iwaizumi had always been the type who found hiding his feelings to be much easier than straight up admitting them; it felt so personal, almost like he was letting someone see him vulnerable. He didn’t enjoy that feeling very much, so he found it best to stick things out. Oikawa had nagged him about it countless times, how he was wasting time, he’d never listen though. So, there he was, bruised and beaten; he was lucky you’d driven out there so late at night to help him out. Without being aware of it, a smile made its way onto his face.
Turning off the engine you practically stumbled out of the car, trying to quickly get to Iwaizumi’s side, his eyes apologetically looking at you. You draped his arm around your shoulder once again, offering him something to hold on as you made your way to your apartments’’ front door. The way you fumbled around for your keys, nearly dropping them, then in attempt at grabbing them they were almost whacked away by your hand, was clearly less than elegant. Nonetheless, it got an amused chuckle out of the boy next to you. His free hand going up to cover his mouth, nose scrunched and eyes closed. You freeze for a moment, letting yourself admired him; a genuine happy expression on his face was rare. Not unseen, but pretty rare, so you let yourself look for a little longer.
You eventually pushed the door open, helping your best friend inside, guiding him to the small couch you had in your equally as small living room. As you set him down, you padded towards your bathroom, rummaging in your medicine cabinet. As you gathered your materials- disinfectant, a few compresses and bandages- you proceeded to hurry back to the living room. He’d leaned back, arm behind his head as he aimlessly swiped on his phone; blue light illuminating his roughened-up face.
You clear your throat, his gaze returning to you, you hold up the small box containing your bare first aid supplies as you flash him a small smile.
“Let’s get you fixed up alright?” you say as you take a seat next to him, as silence fills the room you get to work. Your fingers skillfully clean the little cuts and scratches with the disinfectant; working your way up from his arms and stomach you finally reach the small wounds on his face. You grip his chin to hold his face still with your thumb and index finger, lifting it up to get a good look.
Trying not to get flustered under his unflinching gaze you divert your attention to the cotton pad lying next to you. As you dip in the liquid and lift it up to clean the last of the little wounds, you feel his hand grip your wrist. You’re like a mouse in a trap at this moment in time, his eyes as staring directly back at you, feeling your cheeks heat up you try to speak up.
“…Hajime?” You furrow your brows, trying to figure out why he was being so quiet. Had you said something wrong? You let your hand fall down from his chin, placing it on Iwaizumi’s arm that had gripped your wrist. Your anxious internal monologue was briskly interrupted as you saw him lean in closer. Instead of your previous thoughts, your thoughts were now scrambled, you swore you could feel your heartbeat in your throat.
His hand found itself on your chin, slightly lifting it up; your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips on yours. This is something you’d been wanting to do for so long, so why were you this nervous? As you feel him pull away, he gives you a half-lidded glance, leaning back while placing his arms behind his neck he gave you a teasing smirk.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”