Archive of Our Own ^beta

Oikawa Tooru knew a lot of things about Terushima Yuuji.

He knew that the other was a year younger than him, and was therefore the youngest athlete on the Japanese equestrian team. Oikawa wasn’t mad about that, not at all, he was still the youngest dressage rider after all. No need to be salty about something as trivial as that. He would never.

He knew that Terushima rode a chestnut mare named Simplicity and Fortitude and had been quite successful with her in the past - obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t be here right now, riding at the Olympics.

He had seen Terushima ride before, and he knew that his strength lay in the two jumping thirds of his discipline. His dressage work was still good, but it was sloppy, and Oikawa had found himself frowning more than once when he had seen Terushima’s hands and legs slip where they didn’t belong just because he was riding the discipline so carelessly. It made his blood boil.

So, he knew all that and more. He knew that Terushima was loud, that he had a hollering laugh that could often be heard before one even entered the stable, and that he was super excited for - well, everything. And loudly so.

What he had not known until now though, was that the asshole had a tongue piercing. Whenever he had met him had been during training, and he was pretty sure the piercing had been nowhere to be seen on those occasions, because he surely would have noticed. He prided himself on being observant, and to notice little details about people others would most likely miss, so something as flashy as a silver stud on someone’s tongue surely wouldn’t have slipped his notice.

Now that they were living together in the Olympic village, everything changed a little. Seeing his teammates in casual clothes was unfamiliar enough as it was, he rarely ever saw them out of their riding gear, and meeting them in places that wasn’t the stables also took some getting used to.
But then Terushima walked into the common area that morning with his hair still tousled and wearing only a tanktop and sweatpants. He greeted the others that were already up as well and yawned, and that was when Oikawa nearly fucking lost it at the flash of silver in his mouth.

He didn’t even know why his mind wouldn’t shut up about it - it was just a piercing, and surely he took it out during training to prevent injuries, but Oikawa’s thoughts were screaming bloody murder and someone was banging pots together in his head and it was way too fucking early for this.
He forced his gaze away from Terushima who had skipped over to the coffee machine - who had even allowed that hyperactive brat to get his hands on caffeine? - and focused on his own cup of green tea. Now was not the time to be obsessing over random things. They all had competitions to worry about, after all.

And it would have been all fine, no trouble at all, if Terushima hadn’t lived up to his reputation as an absolute human disaster when he plopped down right next to Oikawa and dug into a bowl of what could only be described as a manifestation of diabetes.

“What on earth is that?” Oikawa asked, unable to stop himself as he scrunched up his nose at the colorful chaos inside the bowl.

“Marshmallow Mateys,” Terushima replied happily. “Want some?”

“No, thanks, I like my teeth intact. How can you eat that, especially while drinking all-black coffee?”

Terushima eyed his own coffee mug for a few seconds as if he hadn’t realized that it was, in fact, filled to the brim with unsweetened black coffee. Oikawa had taken notice of this a long time ago, simply because he thought that dosage of caffeine should be illegal for people like Terushima. 

“I don’t know,” the latter said and shrugged. “I like sweets, but putting stuff in coffee is just nasty. It balances each other out, don’t you think?”

“Something balanced would involve eating some greens from time to time. You do realize you’re an Olympic athlete, right?”

Terushima just laughed and pointed at a neon-green marshmallow piece in his cereal. “See? All balanced.”

By now, Oikawa had to do his best not to puke at the thought of eating any of that and following it up with black, bitter coffee. How anyone could force their taste buds and stomachs to submit to that kind of combination was beyond him, but honestly, pretty much everything Terushima did was a mystery to him.

“Whatever. Enjoy your bowl of caries, I’ll go get ready now.”

Terushima furrowed his brow. “I thought we’re leaving in an hour?”

“Not all of us spend only five minutes in the bathroom, you know.”

“Ah, right,” he chuckled, “have fun, then, I’ll see you later.”

“Yay me,” Oikawa murmured and pushed his chair back a little too forcefully while getting up.

He didn’t know how, but Terushima always knew how to push his buttons, and no, it wasn’t just one of Oikawa’s “terrible morning moods” - he didn’t have those at all, Iwa-chan, thank you very much - but just the fact that Terushima was inherently and as a whole insufferable.
Something about him ticked Oikawa off, even if he couldn’t quite place it. The constant smiling and excitement and carelessness was simply infuriating, not to get started on his riding. There was so much talent in both horse and rider, and yet Terushima tackled everything with a carelessness that drove Oikawa up the wall.

He tried not to think about it too hard, though, but once again it proved hard when an hour later they assembled to get on the bus and Terushima stuck out like a sore thumb with his purple-blue windbreaker. 
His coach only sighed at the sight and eyed everyone else’s perfectly normal black riding jackets for a moment before shrugging it off and boarding the bus. This wasn’t the first fashion issue they had encountered with Terushima, but at least he was wearing breeches this time, so it seemed nobody wanted to get into that discussion again.

The ride to the stables didn’t take too long, their house in the Olympic village was the one closest to it since they needed to go there multiple times a day, mostly at different times, too, so they couldn’t always take the bus together. For training hours like this though, the whole team went since there was only a limited amount of time for which their coaches had booked the training grounds.

The stables themselves were massive long buildings which had been built for this occasion, so they were brand-new and only after the event would they start being used as an actual riding stable. Until then, the Olympic horses found accommodation here, and Oikawa had to admit he really couldn’t complain. The stables were split into team areas per country, they were spacious and modern and held everything they needed, there were hired grooms and volunteers buzzing around and the whole area had been shut off to keep away curious spectators.

Oikawa had been to his fair share of competition stables, but this one was by far his favorite - in fact, it was his favorite competition in general. Ever since he had started doing dressage he had dreamed of going to the Olympics one day, and now that he was here, he found that it was everything he had ever dreamed of and more.

There had been some major setbacks in his past, the accident, or that year when he had missed qualifying by a hair, and he had failed again and again and again until finally he managed to break through.
Now that he was here, he wouldn’t waste his chances.

It wasn’t long anymore until the actual competitions, so nobody was putting their horses under a lot of strain - only a bit of light training to get their muscles and brains working and also to get them used to the surroundings and to help them focus.

Oikawa was trotting his stallion around the dressage arena, keeping him on a long rein and letting him stretch. He had been quite calm so far and Oikawa saw no reason to get him riled up, it might be useful on the actual day of competition, but as far as training went, he was glad when his horses were calm and focused rather than all over the place.

Growing up around horses, Oikawa had learned to read them almost effortlessly by now. Sitting on his stallion right now, he could feel only by the tension of his muscles or the way his body moved while walking if he was calm or excited, the tiniest change in the hoof beat on the ground told him exactly what he needed to know, and what he needed to do.

If someone asked him what exactly he was doing while riding, he often found it hard to explain because it had become something so primal to him that his body often moved on muscle memory alone. Every horse was different, but with the years he found it easier and easier to fall into synch with each one in their own way, and after years of hard work and with gaining more experience, he had mastered the skill of listening to the horses.

There was an old saying which stated rider and horse shared a language built in silence, and Oikawa couldn’t agree more. Learning this language was difficult, it required a lot of effort and most importantly, consistency and repetition. It didn’t come over night, of course. But once one understood how to communicate and understand their horse, they would be able to draw out the very best of them according to all their individual abilities.

Oikawa had sacrificed a lot for this passion. Being an equestrian was time-consuming and expensive, and especially in his teenage years, he had to do without lots of things people his age normally had or did, because he spent all his time at the barn or in training. That was why he didn’t like when people called his horsemanship ‘talent’, because that wasn’t the point, not at all. He wasn’t some kind of genius who could sit on a horse and work his magic. He had simply given his all to make sure he knew how to listen.

Some of his peers didn’t understand why he would give up so much for this sport, but he had never cared, not when he loved what he was doing so much. And of course, Iwa-chan had always been by his side, even if his passion lay elsewhere and he yet had to come into close contact with any horse and not freak out, but there was nothing Oikawa appreciated more than his best friend supporting him with this. 
Iwa-chan would be there, too, cheering for him in the crowd. Through the years of Oikawa’s endless rambling, Iwaizumi had picked up on some things concerning the equestrian sport as well, but he still didn’t really have an eye for it. It didn’t matter though. He was cheering for Oikawa, and that was more than enough.

With his best friend in the crowd, and his other best friend who was sporting four legs and white fur, Oikawa felt assured. He was aiming high, he knew that, but he didn’t plan on settling for any less. He was going for the gold, and everyone knew it.

He exhaled slowly, stiffening his body the tiniest bit, and his stallion immediately took the cue and slowed to a walk. They had done half an hour of light work, and Oikawa was confident that that was enough for the day, so he gave the reins forward even more and let his horse cool down.

There were two other riders on the track, and left to them was the showjumping arena where others were still practicing. Oikawa gave his horse a gentle pet on the neck and let his gaze wander around his surroundings, not looking for anything in particular, but rather just taking in the atmosphere of one of the last team trainings before the competitions would start.

His eyes caught on the chestnut mare in the showjumping ring involuntarily, but how could they not? Terushima was racing his horse around the jumps, taking turns so tight that Oikawa had to hold his breath and pray the horse would somehow get its legs sorted out - which it always did, by some miracle - and both horse and rider were overflowing with energy, so much that it almost made Oikawa dizzy to watch.
He could hear Terushima’s coach yelling at him all the way over to the dressage ring, and it made him scowl and focus on his own horse again.

Terushima had a knack for precision in his riding. That much was clear, otherwise he’d never be able to take turns as tight as he was doing at the speed that he was going, and Oikawa had to admit that that was kind of amazing, but it was also infuriating at the same time, especially whilst knowing how Terushima handled his dressage.
He obviously knew how to be spot on and precise in his equitation, so it would always exceed Oikawa’s understanding why he didn’t use that knowledge in dressage as well. It just didn’t make sense, and Oikawa didn’t like things which didn’t make sense.

So he tore his gaze away from Terushima who was grinning apologetically as his coach was lecturing him, and dismounted his stallion, giving him a good pat on the neck.
He wasn’t here to think about other people’s riding skills after all, he was here to win a medal. And gods knew he would move heaven and earth to reach that goal.

The day of the Grand Prix was also the day when the dressage discipline of Eventing would be held, but the former started in the morning while the latter would be held in the afternoon so the arena could be cleaned in between and the spectators would get a break as well.

Oikawa didn’t spare the other discipline any thought before his own competition. It was game day, which meant he was a hundred percent focused on himself, so much that he didn’t even care that Terushima got up just as early as him - who in their right mind would get up at four in the morning if their competition was in the late afternoon? - and ate his disgustingly sweet cereal right next to him. At least he withheld from chattering the entire time again, so Oikawa could have his own breakfast almost in peace.

His nerves were starting to get to him slightly, he could feel the tension in his own shoulders when driving to the stable and all the way while preparing his horse. It was a funny thing though, no matter how nervous he got before competitions, the feeling vanished as soon as he mounted his stallion.
On his horse’s back, there was no place for insecurity. He trusted in his horse, he knew what he was doing, and therefore all doubts got blown away as soon as he put his foot in the stirrup.

The nervosity didn’t come back when he rode from the warm-up ring to the arena, on the contrary, all that heightened was his excitement as he could already hear the crowd cheer. And sure enough, as he urged his stallion into a collected trot and rode through the gate, waving to the spectators, a smile spread on his face and he squared his shoulders. He was exactly where he belonged.

There were far too many people to find Iwaizumi in the crowd, but Oikawa knew he was there, they had met up briefly before with Iwaizumi wishing him good luck and in his own affectionate way telling him not to fall off and break something, and that was the last bit of assurance Oikawa had needed. 

He took a deep breath and steered his horse into the ring. Staying on a straight line in collected trot wasn’t an issue anymore, and the halt in the center was smooth, just like they had practiced.
The crowd was cheering, the announcer was talking over the speakers, and there was music playing, but Oikawa tuned it all out. The only sound he needed was his own breathing and his horse’s hoofbeat, nothing more.

He breathed in, out, dropped his hand in greeting to the judges, and then he took up the reins and rode.

He couldn’t tell if it was silent or loud, if people were cheering or holding their breath. Reality blurred into a dream-like state, and he and his stallion were the only ones existing in it, moving in complete harmony, floating over the sand, dancing along to the silent language only the two of them could feel.

It was exactly like every other ride, and yet it wasn’t the same at all. Oikawa loved riding with all his heart, but it had never felt this magical before, and he never wanted it to end.
Their performance went by in a blur, and when he came to a halt in the center again and dropped his hand in the judge’s salute, it felt like waking up from a coma with how fast the sound came rushing in, the roaring of the crowd suddenly audible again as if Oikawa’s ears had been on mute before.
He let the joy spread through every one of his cells, and let the reins drop to give his stallion a big pat on the neck, urging him forward the tiniest bit to start walking out of the arena.
The announcer spoke, and if it wasn’t for the cheers of the crowd surging up again, Oikawa might have just forgotten to check his marks.

He turned around on his horse to get a glance at the screen. It took a few seconds for the numbers to sink in, and even then he could hardly believe his eyes, but it was right there, white numbers on a blue screen: He had managed to score over eighty percent. His first goal for these Olympics, and he hadn’t only met it, he had smashed it. 

His eyes stung as a wide grin spread on his face and he leaned forward to hug his stallion’s neck, keeping his balance just enough not to tumble off as he whispered praise into his horse’s mane, too quiet for anyone to hear, anyone but his four-legged friend who would always carry him towards his dreams.
The Olympics had only started for them, but Oikawa was already sure that he couldn’t ever be happier than in that moment.

Everything after the show happened in kind of a blur, teammates and coaches and grooms were circling him to congratulate him on taking the lead, but the horse had to be taken care of quickly so there was barely any time to stick around.

Once back in the stable, Oikawa practically showered his stallion with pats and massages and treats until one of his grooms ushered him out to, quote, ‘give the poor thing some rest’.

Everything felt so unreal, and Oikawa was still floating on his little cloud of dopamine and though Iwaizumi rolled his eyes at his blissed out grin when they met up, he still gave him a firm pat on the back as congratulations.
They went out to get some food and Oikawa chattered non-stop about the ride, and even though he was pretty sure Iwaizumi didn’t get sixty percent of what he was saying, he was still listening and nodding along. When they were finished with dessert and their little spat about who would pay the bill (Oikawa insisted on treating Iwaizumi as celebration, to which the latter just answered that he was the one getting celebrated and thus should be treated), they ventured back to the Olympic Equestrian park.

“The dressage for Eventing will start soon,” Iwaizumi pointed out as more and more people started pouring in through the gates. “Wanna watch?”

Oikawa considered for a moment because there was still so much of the venues they hadn’t seen, but then again, they had a lot of days left - and also, maybe a certain someone with a blonde undercut passed through his mind - and so he nodded. 

The second half of the Dressage Grand Prix would be the next day. There were still lots of riders to come, and nothing was set in stone yet, but there had only been two other people scoring barely above eighty percent, which put Oikawa in the lead by a stretch so far. His whole body was buzzing with excitement, though he knew he’d still have to wait.

They entered the arena with their passes, and Oikawa greeted some of his teammates who had also come to watch.

There were a lot of good riders in eventing dressage - this was the Olympics after all - but Oikawa found it interesting to see that the horses were slightly different from those which only competed in dressage. The differences were very subtle, but definitely there. It made sense, of course, a horse which was expected to run an exhausting obstacle course needed a different physique from one whose training was focused solely on precise movements.
Nonetheless, many of the riders and horses excelled in the tests, and Oikawa found himself enjoying to watch (and ranting to Iwaizumi about technical things he probably didn’t care for).

It didn’t take too long until Terushima’s number was up, and Oikawa clapped along with his cheering teammates, but he also leaned forward, squinting through his glasses.

Terushima’s mare was going in a good, collected trot, but just upon entering there were little errors in the beat already, and if he had to guess, Oikawa would say Terushima’s sloppy leg aids were to blame. That, or the mare was nervous, but given that she was an experienced competition horse, it was rather unlikely.

“Why do you have that constipated look on your face?” Iwaizumi asked, startling Oikawa out of his thoughts. “He’s your teammate.”

“Only if you go by country,” Oikawa corrected, which only got him an eyeroll as an answer. “No, I don’t know, he just irritates me, I mean look at him.”

“I am. What is it I’m supposed to see?”

Terushima had made it to the center and brought his mare to a halt - she stood with all legs parallely, not moving. At least that had been a flawless execution on Terushima’s behalf.

“You probably won’t see anything,” Oikawa sighed, “because he’s good. He’s excellent, in fact, and his horse is really talented as well. But if you know what to look for it’s really frustrating, because-” he paused, pulling a face at the last two strides of an otherwise beautiful half-pass in trot, “-stuff like this happens. He’s sloppy, and it pisses me off.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because there’s all this raw talent and he just doesn’t put it to use during dressage! Why compete in the first place if you won’t give it your all?”

“Don’t go around assuming things, Shittykawa, he’s probably doing his best. Making mistakes doesn’t equal not trying.”

“I guess,” Oikawa huffed, eyes still trained on the chestnut mare who was currently doing a piaffe under Terushima - a rather good one, in fact. “It just confuses me to see it, because I’m sure he’d be able to to it in theory.”

“I’ve been told you have an eye for that sort of thing, that’s obviously not something I can judge, but still, just don’t be a dick about it.”

Oikawa gasped in feigned shock. “Iwa-chan, how dare you!”

“Years of practice, and now shush.”

By some miracle, Oikawa did manage to refrain from commenting on anything else for the whole rest of Terushima’s performance, but still his mind was running non-stop. The performance was good as a whole, it was good, but not outstanding, and when Terushima gave the final salute and rode out of the arena with an average score, he was grinning so happily that it infuriated Oikawa even more. He just didn’t get it.

However, he wasn’t going to spend the entire time thinking about things that didn’t even concern him - honestly, why did he even care? It wasn’t even like Terushima was a potential rival, there was no way the other would even think about competing in dressage only, so technically, Oikawa shouldn’t even waste his thoughts on him.

But something about him just stayed at the back of his mind,  and even when he spent the entire rest of the day with Iwaizumi and some of their friends at the Olympic venue, the little voice never left.

The next day came quick, the last competitors in the Grand Prix started to set the final scores, and when everything was over and done, Oikawa felt his heartbeat quicken steadily as he saw the results with his own name at the very top.

He had placed first in the Grand Prix. 

The Olympics were far from over, but there were no words to describe the sheer happiness he felt when his teammates and friends surrounded him to congratulate him on taking the lead, or when the team placements were announced and Japan took second place. Oikawa had to work hard on not tearing up when he climbed the podium and received his first ever Olympic medal, a beautiful silver thing, and he couldn’t stop staring at it, could hardly believe it at all.

Most of the eventing team hadn’t been there for the dressage award ceremony because their own competition started shortly after, and maybe it was because he was so blissed out that Oikawa agreed to go over and watch the cross country course with the rest of the team. Iwaizumi joined them, though Oikawa’s sister, who had also been there, excused herself to the hotel for a little while since Takeru needed a break from all the excitement, and they agreed to meet up the next day again.

The cross country course was packed with spectators, but since they had VIP passes - the perks of being an athlete at the Olympics - they got a good spot with view on one of the obstacles, and a big screen to see what was happening on the rest of the course.
Since cross country was a discipline where riders had to ride through a pre-set course that was fairly long, as a spectator it was impossible to see the entire thing and screens were placed alongside the course to allow people to see more than the one obstacle they could see in front of them.

Oikawa didn’t know a whole lot about cross country rides, except that it was one of the most dangerous disciplines in horse riding and required a lot of planning. The riders walked the course before the competition, and from there on it was all about measuring distances, calculating speed and mapping out the course to figure out how to get through in the most efficient way. Even though it looked like the riders were just breezing through head-on, Oikawa knew that there was actually a lot more to it, and each ride was planned out precisely in order to stay within the time.

As the first riders came through though, it became obvious that actually finishing within the time limit proved to be rather difficult - so far nobody had managed, even though some came fairly close to it.

Though this wasn’t his favorite discipline, Oikawa had to admit it was mesmerizing to watch. Racing through this course and facing those obstacles, some of which were truly intimidating, had to require lots of courage from both rider and horse, and Oikawa honestly didn’t think he’d manage.
Before settling for dressage, he had done showjumping for a couple of years as well, but eventually he had realized it wasn’t for him. He still took the occasional jump, but he had given up on competing in the discipline to concentrate fully on dressage.

When Terushima’s number came up, everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen, even Iwaizumi’s, even though he kicked Oikawa’s shin first and asked, “Are you going to complain about him again?”, but Oikawa just pouted and didn’t deem that worthy of an answer.

Terushima rode towards the starting line, and Simplicity and Fortitude was already hot for the run, it was evident in the way she was dancing back and forth on her feet, a rubberband drawn taut ready to burst.

The cameras zoomed in on both rider and horse, and though Terushima looked concentrated and focused on holding his horse back to avoid an early start, there was a grin on his face as he kept his mare toeing the line.

Then the starting signal sounded, and even through the screen Oikawa could see that all it took for Terushima was to give the rein a little and sit back, and his mare shot forward with a terrifying speed. The crowd cheered as they raced out of the arena, taking the first jump like it was nothing, and it felt like they were out and around the corner in the blink of an eye.

Iwaizumi gave a low whistle. “Damn, that horse can run.”

“Oh yeah, she sure can,” Oikawa agreed, eyes still glued to the screen.

Terushima was now approaching the second obstacle, three down-hill steps measled into the ground followed by a jump directly at the bottom, and Oikawa’s heart skipped a beat when he barely slowed down beforehand and only reined his horse back when they were almost at the steps, the hind quarters skidding a bit over the grass as his mare slid to a quick almost-halt and then proceeded to hop down the stairs and took the jump at the bottom almost effortlessly despite approaching it from a difficult angle. 

Her hind legs grazed the top part of the obstacle slightly, but Oikawa knew that cross country jumps were built like that on purpose: On many of them, there was a bit of green or bushes at the top, and it wouldn’t be a penalty if the horses grazed it. Experienced horses knew they didn’t need to jump over completely, whereas less experienced ones would see it as part of the obstacle and jump higher to avoid touching it at all.
But since this was far from Terushima’s first race on his horse, Simplicity and Fortitude knew exactly that she didn’t need to jump as high, and therefore they managed the obstacle gracefully and raced on towards the next one.

The speaker was hard to understand over the chatter of the crowd, but Oikawa could hear him commenting on the immensely high speed that Terushima was going, wondering if he could keep it up until the end - but this was what Terushima was known for in the sport. It was what got him here in the first place.

The next fence was a bridge spanning over a ditch which the mare took in stride, and after that came a bit of a more complicated question. Terushima had to ride downhill, make a tight turn, and then take a rather small fence that wasn’t all too high but easy to miss after the turn, especially at Terushima’s pace.

Oikawa held his breath for a second when the mare’s foot slipped in the turn, but she regained balance immediately and hopped the fence just a little crookedly, knocking the marker flag off the side of the obstacle, but since she had jumped through the opening with both front legs and shoulders Terushima wouldn’t receive a penalty.

Despite the rather shaky jump, they landed easily and took off again, and Oikawa let out the breath he was holding. Watching this was exhilarating enough, he couldn’t even imagine what kind of adrenaline had to be pumping through Terushima’s veins right now when he was the one actually riding this course.

The rest of the first half went by without any complications. Terushima and his mare jumped every fence without penalties, and though they knocked a few flags down, they always stayed within bounds and when the time tracker showed up on screen halfway through the course, it showed that he was three seconds ahead of the optimum.

Any second now and he would be approaching the obstacle that Oikawa and the others were standing next to, and they got closer to the barrier to get a better look. 
Sure enough Terushima soon came racing around the corner, and the crowd around them started cheering him on. Oikawa clapped along with his teammates, and he got a glimpse of Terushima’s satisfied grin as the other whooshed past him and guided his mare towards the fence, two rather tall hedges following each other, once again jumping them in a way that looked effortless. As the crowd erupted into cheers again, Oikawa could feel the little hair on his arms stand.

There were a few moments in the rest of the course when Oikawa was sure Terushima’s mare would slip, or they’d stumble over a fence, but even with a few shaky moments, they managed to pull through without any penalties and then suddenly they were on the home stretch approaching the very last fence, the clock counting down the last few seconds.

The crowd was basically screaming at this point and Oikawa’s eyes were glued to the screen, he could barely breathe as he watched Terushima urge his mare forwards, hooves beating into the ground faster and faster and Terushima was giving it his all now, leaning forward, throwing his heart over the last jump, taking off, and a heartbeat later he reached the finish line and the clock counted down to zero. No time penalties and a clear round. 

The crowd erupted into cheers again and the number one appeared on screen, putting Terushima into the overall lead for the moment, and the cameras zoomed in on his wide grin as he turned his mare onto a little circle to gradually slow her down. He was waving to the crowd, joy written all over his face and then he leaned down to hug his horse’s neck, almost catapulting himself out of the saddle with the move, but luckily his groom was running up to him just in time to grab the reins and slow the mare down.
Only when they slowed down to a walk did Oikawa feel like he could breathe again.

He barely noticed when Iwaizumi came up to him. “So, what’s the verdict for today? I’m no expert but that looked pretty good, didn’t it?”

“Amazing,” Oikawa breathed out, his brain lacking the right words to describe the magic he had just witnessed. “He was amazing.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s high praise coming from you, are you feeling alright, Shittykawa?”

Slowly regaining his composure, Oikawa just stuck out his tongue at him - being the mature Olympic athlete that he was and bumped his shoulder on his way past. “Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving.”

Iwaizumi just scoffed and followed, and though the topic of Terushima’s triumph faded out of conversation gradually after a few hours, Oikawa couldn’t keep replaying the scene of the other taking that last jump in his head over and over again.

In the night, a storm hit. The weather forecast had predicted it, and it wasn’t even that severe, but the rumbling thunder still seemed to make the houses shake, and sometime after midnight Oikawa decided to give up on sleeping and changed into his stable clothes.
He took his car to the stable and ran through the rain for a few meters to get into the building, showing his pass to the security guards who waved him through, though he didn’t miss the raised eyebrows and puzzled looks. Of course he didn’t need to go check on his horse, there were enough grooms and security guards around to make sure everything was fine, but he couldn’t sleep anyways so he might as well check for himself, if only to have something to do.

He walked past the rows upon rows of sleeping horses in their boxes, careful to tread lightly as not to startle them. The lights in the stables had been switched off to ensure the horses would get proper rest, and he used his phone flashlight to find his way without shining it into the boxes.

When he reached his stallion, the horse was snoozing peacefully, apparently unbothered by the thunderstorm outside and Oikawa just leaned up against the box door and looked at him a fond smile sneaking its way onto his lips. 
His stallion was a majestic animal, standing proud and tall most of the time, but when he was dozing off like this he looked really cute with the way his ears twitched and the little grumbling sounds he made every few seconds.

He just listened to the rain pattering on the roof and the horses snoring around him, a peaceful atmosphere until another thunder cracked through the silence, though barely any of the horses stirred.
But then, just as the noise faded again, Oikawa heard a soft whisper coming from a few boxes beside him. He turned, curious, and walked over the few meters to peek into one of the boxes to see none other than Terushima Yuuji in there with his mare.

He was crouched on the ground next to his horse’s head, who was munching on her hay, and ran his hands through her mane, whispering softly to her. He was so quiet Oikawa almost couldn’t make it out, but once he concentrated he could actually make out the words being said.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t worry. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

Another thunder boomed through the night air, and Oikawa raised an eyebrow as he saw that the horse didn’t even react, but Terushima on the other hand flinched violently and pressed his face into the horse’s fur. Oikawa had to smile a little even though he felt almost bad for it.

“Who’s comforting whom here, huh?”

Terushima gave a surprised shriek and whirled around, but even that barely fazed his mare who just looked up from her hay for a second before going back to chew on it.

“Way to give a man a heart attack,” Terushima breathed out and stood up, brushing some straw off his sweatpants. From the looks of it, he hadn’t changed out of his sleeping clothes before coming here, he was wearing grey sweatpants and a loose white shirt that dropped to the side and revealed a little too much collarbone to be called decent. His hair was ruffled, all the piercings had been taken out of his ears, and his face was somewhat pale, though it might have just been the lack of light in here.

“Did you plan on sleeping here?” Oikawa asked upon looking him up and down.

Terushima grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but Oikawa didn’t miss the way his eyes shut too tightly for the fraction of a second when the next thunder rolled around.

“Nah, I just wanted to check on Simp. She gets nervous during storms sometimes, and we have the showjumping event tomorrow, so…”

Oikawa chose to refrain from pointing out that the mare looked perfectly fine. He had originally planned on going back to the house soon, but upon seeing Terushima like this, he didn’t really have the heart to leave him here by himself. 
The guy was a menace at best, but the way he stood there with his shoulders drawn up and flinching every other second at the thunder was a whole new side to him that Oikawa had never seen before, and he wasn’t that heartless.

So instead, he said, “Well, the horses look fine right now, how about we camp out by the straw bales for a bit to make sure everything stays calm?”

Terushima’s shoulders untensed a little, a wave of relief washing over his features. “Sure, that’d be cool.”

Terushima exited the box, giving his mare one last pat on the neck and she barely acknowledged him as he left, still too preoccupied with her hay.

They walked down the alley between the boxes for a bit before reaching the hall that bordered on the building where the straw and hay was kept, and Oikawa knew they weren’t technically supposed to stay there, but he sure as hell wouldn’t sit on the cold hard floor, not when they both had competitions the next day.

“Here,” he said, “I’ll go over to the staff room and make some tea, do you want some?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Oikawa had sweet-talked his way into the staff room days ago, but at this time of the night, there was nobody in there anyways, so it didn’t take him long to prepare two cups of tea and return to Terushima, who had sat down on the straw bale and was eyeing the window in disdain.

“There you go,” Oikawa said and gave him the cup. “Oh I forgot to ask, do you take sugar?”

“No, thank you,” Terushima replied and drew the cup a little closer to him, wrapping his hands around it fully to warm them up.

Oikawa sat down next to him, careful not to spill his own tea over the straw.

“How come you only eat such disgustingly sweet food and then you go and drink black coffee and tea without sugar?”

That actually earned him a chuckle. “I don’t have an answer to that, I don’t question my brain anymore. It just gets confusing otherwise.”

“Fair enough.”

Even in here the thunder was still clearly audible, and Terushima’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the cup too tightly. He was obviously trying hard to hide it, but he was being as subtle as a neon sign about it, and things like these didn’t easily slip Oikawa’s notice. 

He contemplated just ignoring it altogether - if Terushima had wanted to talk about it, he probably would have said something, but on the other hand he didn’t want him to feel as if this was something to be embarrassed about, and he also wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help.

In the attempt not to be too blunt, he asked, “Not a fan of thunderstorms, huh?”

Terushima winced as if he had just been caught stealing something. “Ah, no, not really.”

“It’s supposed to pass soon, I doubt it’ll hold much longer. The weather forecast said the sun will be out by morning again, so the arena floors might be a bit wet but I don’t think there’ll be any problems with riding.”

Terushima honestly looked relieved. No wonder, if he was this nervous about the storm while being safely inside, Oikawa could only imagine how horrifying it would be for him to be outside on horseback in the middle of it.

He didn’t want to ask outright if he could help in any way, because Terushima looked uncomfortable talking about this and Oikawa guessed he would only be brushed off if he tried to bring it up, so he took a different approach. He would simply distract him.

“I saw your ride today.”

Terushima’s eyes widened a bit, but then a smile spread over his face as he met Oikawa’s gaze. “I didn’t know you came to watch too. So, what’s the verdict?”

“I’m sure your coach tells you this many times, but you’re reckless. I wouldn’t have been surprised if some of those jumps had pulled the legs right out from under your mare, and some of the risks you took could have led to you breaking your neck.” Terushima opened his mouth to reply, but Oikawa continued quickly, “However, whatever you’re doing is clearly working. You had the best time today, and it was breathtaking to watch. It was a great performance.”

Whatever Terushima had expected to hear, this clearly hadn’t been it judging by the way he struggled for words a few seconds before finally managing a tentative, “Thank you.”

“You’ll have good chances on taking a place on the podium tomorrow if the showjumping goes well, right?”

“Yeah,” he replied, smile slipping back onto his face, “I’m not in the lead anymore because of my dressage score, but it’s definitely up there, and Simp is a great jumper.”

Another thunder boomed through the night and Terushima winced once again, though not as violently as before, so Oikawa quickly resumed talking.

“Do you train your dressage work a lot?”

“Ha,” Terushima asked and rubbed the back of his neck, “I think I know what you want to say. Our score probably wasn’t up to your standards, right?”

“I mean, it was a good score.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it was okay. To answer your question, I do train a fair amount, but yes, I could probably do more. I’m not that into dressage to be honest.”

It probably wasn’t his place to say, but he had the tendency to be a bit blunt, so Oikawa couldn’t stop himself from saying, “See, this is why I don’t get you. You could be good at dressage, like actually really good. Not as amazing as me, of course, but your horse has loads of potential, so I don’t get why you don’t use it.”

If this offended Terushima, he didn’t let it show. 

“I figured you’d think something like that. Dressage… I don’t know, I’m not really feeling it. For me, it’s like a chore I have to do in order to be able to perform in the cross country and showjumping events. I can throw my whole heart over a jump, but dressage? I don’t know. There’s no passion in it for me.”

That made sense, Oikawa guessed. Those little mistakes in Terushima’s performance, he had always seen that they weren’t results of lacking talent, or the horse’s insecurities, they were simply sloppy, and that made it even more infuriating.

“Dressage lives off of passion. No wonder your performances look like that.”

“Well, I can’t exactly force it, now can I?”

“I guess not… still, I think it’s unfortunate. You could score way higher.”

“Yeah, but I’m in it for the fun. My dressage is passable, and then I can go all out in the other two disciplines. That’s enough for me. Maybe it won’t always bring me to first place, but as you can see I can still fight my way up.”

Maybe their brains were just wired differently, and Oikawa tried to understand this approach, he really did, but it didn’t make sense to him. He could vaguely see where Terushima was coming from, in theory, but he wasn’t able to grasp the concept of how he could be so calm about all of this when Oikawa was straining towards the individual first place with every fiber of his being.

“I really don’t get you.”

Terushima chuckled. “No, I didn’t think you would. You really want that medal, huh?”

“It’s been my dream ever since I can remember.”

It’s what kept pushing him, a reason to keep him going, the goal he had in front of his eyes whenever he had to make another sacrifice in order to maintain his lifestyle the way he did. Without his dream, he didn’t know where he would be this day.

“For what it’s worth, I think you can do it.”

His first instinct was a smug response like I know, but something about the sincerity in Terushima’s voice made him change his mind, and what came out instead was a, “Thanks.”

“I don’t get the whole hype around dressage,” Terushima continued and placed his now empty cup on the floor, “but that’s just me, I guess. I like things fast, and I live for the adrenaline from jumping, the rush of it all, and dressage doesn’t have any of that. It doesn’t mean I don’t see the appeal though.” He smiled. “I saw your performance too, you know.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. It almost made me feel jealous I don’t share that passion for it, because when you and your stallion do it… it kinda looks like magic, you know? I wish riding dressage gave me the same feeling it did when I was watching you, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen. I think I’m just too overexcited for, well, like…”

“...everything?” Oikawa offered, making Terushima laugh in return.

“Yeah, pretty much. I know I get on people’s nerves sometimes, I mean, I’d like to think I’m a little self-aware at least - but I just like to have fun, because if you don’t have fun doing what you do, what’s the point?”

Oikawa thought about this for a second. He’d be lying if he said Terushima had never gotten on his nerves before, and sure, he had had more than one internal rant about the audacity of the guy, but now that he talked to him and got to know a bit about the reasoning why he was the way that he was - it didn’t seem too bad anymore. On the contrary, he had to admit it was quite admirable.

“No, you’re right. It’s not a bad thing to chase that high.” He paused, considering. “You know, there was a time when I lost sight of that. I’m not saying I’m not still competitive, but it was way worse back then, and I only rode to win.”

Terushima hummed and propped his arm up on his knee, thoughtfully placing his chin on his hand.

“And how’d that turn out?”

“Badly,” Oikawa replied and stared at the ground before him. “I overwhelmed my horse, and you know how that goes. Their actions are a reflection of your own. I took a bad fall and messed up my knee, couldn’t ride for weeks after that, but it put some things into perspective.”

“Is that why you quit showjumping?“

Oikawa raised an eyebrow at that. He hadn't expected Terushima to know about his past in the showjumping sport, most people only knew his name from his dressage performances which was where he truly excelled.

Terushima seemed to read the surprise on his face. “Uh, we competed against each other once, years ago. I didn't have Simp yet, I was riding my trainer's horse, so like, you probably don't remember.“

Oikawa sighed. This was exactly what had ruined him back then, his narrow focus to win, and to win only. He hadn't even looked left or right, only over his shoulder to see the people threatening to catch up, and straight ahead towards his goal and the ones he still needed to pass. He hadn't even taken notice of people like Terushima, had been so hyper focused on himself that everything beyond the top became blurry in his view.
Looking at it now, the feeling of knowing what he had done wrong back then came back to him, because how could he not have seen a guy like Terushima? He had been so stupid, though he had come to peace with it and forgiven himself for the most part.

“It's not the only reason I quit showjumping, but partially, sure.“ He pondered this for a second. “Maybe I do understand where you're coming from. Jumping didn't really give me joy anymore.“

Terushima smiled - he really did that a lot, Oikawa noticed, even now when the thunderstorm was obviously bothering him more that he'd like to admit, he smiled through it.

“I guess we can't all be the same, but i think it's good that way.“

“Yeah, probably. I mean, if you competed in dressage only you'd have to go up against me, so it's probably better you stick to eventing.“

He threw his head back and laughed - a loud, joyous laugh that Oikawa had already grown used to hearing in the barn when the whole team was there, but something about this was different. 
He had never paid close attention before, had never seen the way Terushima's face lit up everywhere, had never seen his tongue piercing flash between his teeth, or the way his eyes crinkled in their corners.
He was looking now.

“I mean, you're not wrong,“ he finally chuckled, “but don't worry, I intend to stay in my lane. I can't really do without the adrenaline anymore, I'd go crazy“

“Figures, that’d be a danger to society.“

Terushima was basically glowing at this point - or was it the soft yellow light from the lamp shining down on them, painting his blonde hair golden and reflecting on the piercing every time he talked? It was hard to tell, really. But that didn't make it any less mesmerizing.

“You know, Oikawa-san, there were times when I thought you didn't like me“

“There were times when I thought I didn't like you, too.“

He chuckled. “Are you saying that changed?“

Oikawa hummed noncommittally. “You're not awful, I guess.“

“From what I learned about you so far, I can take that as a compliment, so I'm glad to hear it.“

“I didn't take you for someone who cared what others think of him.“

Terushima gave a half-hearted shrug. “I try not to. Thing is, I don't wanna change myself just to be well-liked, but that doesn't mean I don't care what people think. I'm aware my personality clashes with a lot of people on the team, and like, I don't mind being the way that I am, but still sometimes I wish that was okay with others, too'“

“Huh.“ That really wasn't what he had expected. He had always thought Terushima breezed through life exactly the way he handled his riding, fast, without looking left and right, and without a care in the world, but it seemed that had been a wrong assessment on his part. “It might surprise you to hear this, but I actually can relate.“

Terushima gave him an incredulous look. “Surprised is a little bit of an understatement. You're like the favorite child of the team.“

“True, but I get what it's like to try and hold on to yourself and not let people change you, because I did let them change me for a long time, and it's a habit I can't quite shake. I might be popular, but the majority of the people calling themselves my friends would turn their back on me in a second if I gave them reason to. It took me some time to find the people that I knew would stick with me, and to get comfortable being myself. I think everyone's a little afraid of what others think.“

“And here I was thinking that you were like the cool kid everyone wanted to be in high school.“

“Don't get me wrong, I am the cool kid,“ Oikawa grinned, “but the cool kids have anxiety like everyone else.“

That laugh again, and damn it was beautiful. Oikawa was seriously wondering what on earth he had been doing all this time that made it possible for him not to see it. He had been so busy grumbling about Terushima and being salty about the fact that he wasn’t using all of his potential, that he didn’t put his all into winning, had been so caught up in his own competitions that he had failed to see who was right in front of him.
He had lost sight of what was important because of his drive to win once. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

And that was why he placed his own cup down and leaned forward a little, eyes meeting Terushima’s which widened curiously for the fraction of a second before relaxing again, that same smile spreading over his lips both daring and excited. He wanted to savour every moment of this, paid very close attention to every little movement that Terushima made.

The latter, it seemed, wasn’t so patient. “Are you initiating a staring contest or are you going to kiss me eventually?”

Oikawa chuckled, but leaned a little closer. “You really are a brat.”

“Well,” he answered, and they were so close now that Oikawa could see every detail of the other’s face, “someone told me to fight for my goals, I figured I should be more determined in pursuing what I want.”

“So what do you want?”

Instead of answering, Terushima just grinned and leaned in. 

Oikawa didn’t really care for the adrenaline rush that others sought in jumping, but he had to admit, feeling his heart rate spike and breath hitch when Terushima’s lips met his - that wasn’t so bad. No, it wasn’t bad at all. 
He wondered if that was what Terushima felt with every obstacle he took with his mare, because if he did, he certainly understood why the other loved the sport, this wasn’t a feeling he ever wanted to miss again.

Terushima kissed like he did everything else, energetic and confident and a little sloppy, but Oikawa didn’t mind at all. On the contrary, this energy the other brought was enthralling, and it only made him lean in closer.
Time blurred around them in the golden light, one minute bleeding into the next like a constant, gentle flow and he couldn’t tell how much time had passed when they finally broke apart again, the aftertaste of green tea and the memory of a tingling metallic sensation lingering on Oikawa’s tongue.

Terushima was smiling once again, a gentle curve of his lips which were pinker than before.

“No matter what happens tomorrow, I think I already won these Olympics.”

Oikawa chuckled - of course Terushima was a sap, what else had he expected? - and stood up, extending his hand.

“While I appreciate the sentiment, we should still get back. We have medals to win tomorrow.”

Terushima was basically glowing when he grabbed Oikawa’s hand and let himself be pulled up, intertwining their fingers in a way that left no room for doubt that what had happened in the barn tonight was not just a whispered secret for nightly hours. Not that Oikawa had wanted it to be, he never liked half-assing things.

Still, Terushima asked, “You’re serious about this, right?”

As a response, Oikawa wrapped his arms around his shoulders, partly to reassure him, partly to shield him from the cool night air the storm had left behind. “‘course I am. I hope you were looking for a boyfriend, because you got one now.”

“I wasn’t exactly looking for one, but since it’s you, I have zero complaints.”

If looking at what was right in front of him brought pleasant surprises like these, Oikawa supposed he should take Iwaizumi’s advice and do it more often. If he hadn’t taken a step back and readjusted his perspective, maybe he never would have seen Terushima for who he really was - and gods, was he glad that he did.

There was still one thing he needed to know though. “Do you wanna be open about this, or do you wanna keep it on the down low?”

He’d get it if Terushima didn’t want to face the public discourse this would undoubtedly kick loose, but the other didn’t hesitate to answer, “Are you kidding? I wanna shout it from the rooftops.”

He grinned up at him, eyes wild and blazing, and Oikawa fell all over again.

Terushima was a wildfire, loud and blazing with his flames reaching out to embrace everything around him, leaving his mark on all that came into his vicinity; and Oikawa was a wind breezing through life, toppling obstacles over or blowing around them, taking full stride ahead.

Together they formed a fire tornado, and this was a storm neither of them had to be afraid of. On the contrary, Oikawa embraced it with open arms.