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Four days after the finale of the sappiest romantic drama series to ever air on television, Iwaizumi witnesses a very embarrassing marriage proposal in his favorite restaurant. He is eating dinner there with Oikawa – because they’re both too tired from exams and volleyball practice to cook anything at home (and they’ve been having instant ramen for dinner for the past week anyway) – when the waiting staff suddenly bursts into song. This is followed by the tuxedo-wearing guy at the table next to them dropping down on one knee and proposing to his date.
The guy is holding out a black velvet box, and the gigantic diamond on the gold ring is actually glittering. The waiting staff is still singing. It’s the theme song from the TV-drama. The woman covers her face for a moment, and then murmurs “yes.” The guy says, “Thank you. I hope to make every day of our wedded life an adventure,” just like the protagonist did in the finale, and the two of them hug. Then they kiss, briefly, right in front of everyone.
Iwaizumi is horrified. He wouldn’t do anything like that, ever. He turns away from the couple.
“Ah, that’s so sweet,” Oikawa says, wiping his eyes with his dinner napkin. His fake-crying skills have improved considerably over the past year. “Sometimes I lose hope in humanity you know, Iwa-chan, especially since we’ve moved to this big city. Such apathy everyday on the sidewalks and in the trains! And how coldly people have treated me all of my life. Those younger than me, like that Tobio. My own family members. And those who are my boon companions, like a certain Iwa-chan. But then there are nights like these, nights wherein a hardworking man taps into the romance seated deep inside his heart and-”
Iwaizumi tunes Oikawa out. The restaurant is quiet again. The agedashi tofu, grilled fish, and rice he has just finished are settling comfortably into his stomach. He feels drowsy. He can’t wait to crawl into bed and sleep for the next ten hours. There’s no volleyball practice tomorrow morning, so he’s going to sleep in. He’s not going to get out of shape just by sleeping in one morning. He deserves it, after that grueling Calculus exam he took today.
Oikawa bumps his left knee against Iwaizumi’s, clasps his hands together, and continues, “He probably goes straight to a florist after work and buys flowers for his girlfriend. Well, fiancée, now. Every single night without fail. And then he goes home to her, and they have a lovely candlelit dinner together. How romantic, right?”
“Your turn to pay the bill,” Iwaizumi says, getting to his feet.
Oikawa pouts. “Iwa-chan, you’re not being very nice to me,” he says. “I want to stay longer. Both of us could benefit from learning from that lovely couple.”
“They’re just copying that drama,” Iwaizumi murmurs, so that the couple doesn’t overhear. “Hurry up.”
“We haven’t had dessert yet!”
“You never buy dessert from here!”
That came out a little too loud, Iwaizumi realizes when the people around them turn to stare at him. The newly engaged couple looks especially disapproving. Iwaizumi glares at Oikawa and motions his head towards the doors.
Oikawa complains all the way back to their apartment. Once inside, he makes milk tea for himself while sulking and whining about how mean Iwaizumi is to him. Iwaizumi goes into the bathroom and murmurs “relax, relax,” as he brushes his teeth. He has been trying to practice the anger management techniques Hana Misaki taught him. He goes to bed.
When he hears Oikawa moving around in the living room, however, he drags himself out of bed, goes back out into the hallway. As expected, Oikawa has his DVDs of past volleyball matches between Aoba Johsai and Karasuno, and of Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa, spread out on the coffee table. He minimizes a window on his desktop, and then he reaches for one of the DVDs.
Iwaizumi throws a couch pillow at Oikawa’s back. “No,” he says.
Before Oikawa can start complaining again, Iwaizumi pulls Oikawa to bed and then sucks him off, nice and slow. When Oikawa wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s shoulders, says, “why so shy, Hajime, let’s have proper sex,” they do that too.
Oikawa is pleased afterwards, but this means that he wants to cuddle. It’s stuffy in the room, and their fan is broken. Iwaizumi compromises by letting Oikawa cuddle one arm. Oikawa is going to let go after Iwaizumi falls asleep anyway. Oikawa will go back out to the living room and spend most of the night on the computer, something he’s been doing more often since April. Then he’ll be very irritating in the morning.
Oikawa strokes Iwaizumi’s arm, humming softly. Iwaizumi closes his eyes.
***
Oikawa wants to hold hands while they are on their way to class on Monday. Iwaizumi refuses. He’s not going to hold hands after what happened earlier. There was only one seat left in the subway car they had squeezed into, and Oikawa had sat down on it, leaving Iwaizumi trapped between two sweaty guys who kept stepping on his sneakers and breathing on him. And then Oikawa wanted to stop at a café near their campus. They had to wait fifteen minutes in line, and another thirty to get their orders. As they were leaving, a group of five fanboys and girls had rushed out of the café after them, asking to take selfies with Oikawa. Then Oikawa wanted one of them to take a photo of him and “his beloved Iwa-chan,” but Iwaizumi wasn’t having any of that.
“My hands are cold, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa protests now.
“Why did you buy an iced-coffee?” Iwaizumi snaps.
Oikawa presses the cold cup against Iwaizumi’s nape, and Iwaizumi jumps. The cappuccino he was holding sloshes out of its cup, splatters across his chin and shirt.
“Oops,” Oikawa says, smiling apologetically. He scratches the back of his head, sticks the tip of his tongue out. “At least your coffee wasn’t too hot?”
As the coffee drips down Iwaizumi’s chin, Oikawa continues, “How about we hold hands while standing really close? No one will notice. That’s what you want, right? You want to keep this thing we have between us,” he forms a heart with his thumb and pointer fingers, “a secret. Because you’re ashamed of me.”
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, trying to keep his voice down, “I am very, very ashamed. Of myself. All these years I’ve known you, the most annoying asshole on the planet, and I still couldn’t stop this,” he points to his wet chin, “from happening to me.”
“Oh.” Oikawa beams. “That’s okay then. It’s good to acknowledge one’s failures. Your reaction time is getting really slow, hm? Hang on, I’ll get some tissues. There’s probably someone handing them out near the library.”
“There’s a pack in my bag. Get it out for me. Carefully, Asskawa, without messing up any of my shit.”
Oikawa presses a quick kiss to Iwaizumi’s shoulder before unzipping the bag. Iwaizumi reflects that things could have been worse. He could have been wearing a white shirt instead of blue. He can go home at lunchtime and change his clothes. There’s no point in staying angry.
“You’re very quiet, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, as he dabs at Iwaizumi’s chin with a tissue. “Are you getting ready to hit me with something?”
“No,” Iwaizumi says.
Oikawa smiles at him, a small smile without any humor, his gaze thoughtful.
***
While the Physics professor fills the board with formulas they need to know for their semester final, Iwaizumi reflects on the events of Friday night and this morning. Oikawa has been acting strange. Oikawa has always been flashy and excessive, but most of that is a performance for other people. He is less obnoxious when it’s just the two of them.
Iwaizumi tries to figure out what could have gone wrong. They’ve won most of the matches they’ve played this season. Almost all of the volleyball geniuses they know from high school are playing pro now, so Oikawa isn’t working himself to the ground trying to beat them. He complains about how much he hates geniuses only once every few weeks. He has been getting good grades. He began coaching at the kids’ volleyball center near their apartment this year, where Iwaizumi also coaches part-time, and seems to like his job. Aside from the bad sleeping habits, he’s doing pretty well.
But obviously there is something going on with him. Oikawa isn’t the kind of guy who requires a lot of romancing. The two of them don’t really do couple-y things, like setting time aside to go on proper “dates.” They’ve been on one life-long date since they were kids. Their relationship has progressed from friends to friends-who-live-together-and-fuck-often, and in Iwaizumi’s opinion, that’s all they need.
Maybe the change began in April, when Oikawa started watching that drama. He usually watches sci-fi, but he was fascinated by that show, City Adventure, in the love triangles, the pretty people with their proper speech, the rags-to-riches story, the sparkling Tokyo penthouses Iwaizumi has yet to step inside in the fifteen months he has been in this city, the melodrama.
“I’m observing the human condition, of course,” Oikawa would answer each time Iwaizumi questioned him about his new obsession.
“People don’t act like that in real life,” Iwaizumi tried to explain at first, but then he let it go because he liked staying at home with Oikawa on Monday nights, leaning against him as they watched that mostly unrealistic, occasionally endearing show. It was better than going out and having to share Oikawa with others, something he has to do almost all the time they’re in public.
Now the series has ended and Oikawa wants people to act like those fictional characters, or at least imitate the PDA part. Iwaizumi turns a few pages of his notebook, glances down at the stain on his collar. That drama was probably the catalyst for this weirdness. The next drama they need to see is one in which the main characters treat each other with great kindness and consideration, both before and after they get together.
“What’s up?” Hana asks him as they are leaving the classroom.
Hana Misaki is a good friend who really gets him. She used to be the manager of the volleyball club at Johzenji High and knows how hard it is to deal with really irritating shits who don’t want to listen to good advice. And her current girlfriend is almost as annoying as Oikawa.
Iwaizumi says, “Is it just me, or do you see PDA everywhere?”
“It’s because of that damn drama,” Hana replies, making a face.
When they are parting ways outside the building, however, she says, “Hey, it wasn’t so bad. Not the PDA, but the some of romantic scenes are nice. Mai and I had a candlelit dinner after the finale last Monday, and it was an adventure.” She smiles. “Trying out new things can keeps things interesting.”
***
In the middle of volleyball practice on Tuesday, while Iwaizumi is practicing his spikes and thinking about potential romantic gestures, Oikawa starts to serve his volleyballs directly to the fans sitting on the bleachers. He manages to get three to them before the seniors notice and yell at him to stop.
Oikawa smiles apologetically to his fans and waves. Iwaizumi feels a pain in his fingers and looks down to see that he is gripping the ball in his hands too hard. He waits for the seniors to look away, and then he throws the ball as hard as he can at Oikawa’s ass.
“Ow! Iwa-chan!” Oikawa protests, after the ball connects. “That hurt!”
“Good!” Iwaizumi yells.
Oikawa walks over to him, beaming. “Aw, are you upset that I was paying attention to my fans? You mustn’t feel so insecure, Iwa-chan. How embarrassing.”
“Why are you leading them on?” Iwaizumi hisses. “You’re a piece of shit.”
“Well.” Oikawa taps a finger against his chin. “You know how we can solve this problem, right? You can kiss me right here, and everyone will know whom I belong to.”
Another line from that drama. Iwaizumi wonders what he has done to deserve this. “We’ll talk about this later,” he says, picking up another volleyball.
Oikawa raises an eyebrow. “What’s there to talk about?” he asks, his voice lower, none of the customary flippancy in his tone.
Iwaizumi turns away. They’re supposed to be practicing. After taking five, deep, steadying breaths, he is fine again.
***
He rules out the following: a candlelit dinner (he’s not a good cook), poetry (too embarrassing), flowers (allergies), a box of chocolate (too standard), a song performed on the guitar (he’s never taken guitar lessons). He is left with only one option: matching key chains. That gift doesn’t really bring the protagonist and his love interest closer together in the drama, but the key chains are present in the last scene.
So, on Saturday morning, Iwaizumi leaves a sulky Oikawa, who is curled up on the couch and reading A Journey through the Mind, to go buy groceries and search for key chains. “Love is a painful affair,” Iwaizumi hears Oikawa saying as he closes the front door.
For a second, Iwaizumi considers going back inside and telling Oikawa to come with him. But then he remembers that grocery shopping isn’t very interesting or romantic. He continues on by himself.
He’s going to try out this key chain thing. It won’t be as cool as the gift Oikawa gave him before they started university, that caterpillar which had turned into a beautiful butterfly, but it’s the thought that counts.
At an accessories store near the grocery mart, Iwaizumi finds the matching hearts he saw in the drama. There is a pair of compass and anchor key chains next to it. He picks up the compass-anchor pair and takes it to the cash register.
On the way back home, he buys a box of ice cream bars. It is unseasonably hot today. His T-shirt is sticking to his back and armpits. He’s glad Oikawa brought a new fan home yesterday.
***
Oikawa is near the front door when Iwaizumi enters the apartment. He is dressed to go out. Iwaizumi pushes one of the grocery bags into Oikawa’s arms, and then he closes the door.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa protests, setting the bag down on the kitchen counter, “I’ll help you with the groceries when I get back. I promise. I have a lunch date with some friends from my study group. Actually, you can come with me! They won’t mind.”
Iwaizumi reaches into his pocket and pulls out the key chains. “Here,” he says, handing the anchor to Oikawa, “put that in your key ring before you go.”
Oikawa turns the anchor over and over in his hand, looks at the compass in Iwaizumi’s hand, eyes very wide. Iwaizumi is pleased. It’s hard to surprise Oikawa.
After a long moment, Oikawa asks, “Are you saying that I’m your compass and you’re my anchor?”
“Yeah.”
“Being a compass is a great honor.” He clips the anchor to his keys, between the one for the front door and the mailbox key, his fingers a little unsteady. “Are you sure? I hope I don’t lead you off course, Iwa-chan.”
“It’s okay.” Iwaizumi takes the ice cream out. “Even when we go off course, we’ll find our way back.”
He is about to open the box when finds himself being enveloped into Oikawa’s arms. He almost drops the ice cream. Oikawa squeezes him tight, murmurs into his ear, “You’re very good to me, Hajime. I’m sorry for being so troublesome, alright?”
Iwaizumi pats Oikawa’s hand, says, “You’ve been more of an ass than usual lately. Why?”
“You’re going to laugh at me.”
“That’s better than punching you, right?”
“Actually, I miss that.” Oikawa rubs his nose against Iwaizumi’s cheek. “You’re so calm nowadays. Almost indifferent. I was worried that you were getting bored of me.”
That explains some things, but Iwaizumi has a feeling that he isn’t getting the whole story. He pushes Oikawa off, folds his arms. “Of course I’m calm. We all have to grow up someday. Tell me what you’ve been doing, Asskawa.”
Oikawa gives him a guilty look. “Alright, just a sec,” he says.
After sending a text to his study group saying that he’s not coming to lunch, he begins, in a high-pitched voice, “Well, you see, there’s this website where people upload their photos and other people comment on it. I’ve been using it for awhile because it’s important to take selfies and appreciate oneself.”
Iwaizumi closes his eyes and inhales. Now he knows where this is going.
“So, there’s this guy who’s like a model or something, and he started leaving really mean comments on my photos, saying that I looked like a whore and didn’t know what romance was and could never keep a girlfriend. I was so hurt, Iwa-chan. He has all these pictures of him with his girlfriend, and they look really happy together. So when that overhyped drama started airing, I thought I would watch it and pick up a few pointers. Those nights were fun, weren’t they? But you didn’t want to be romantic with me afterwards, in public where someone could take a picture, or otherwise. I didn’t know what to do.” Oikawa puffs out his lower lip.
Iwaizumi hits him with the box of ice cream.
“Ow!” Oikawa protests. “I thought you were a calmer person now? That was really cold, Iwa-chan.”
“That’s what you’ve been doing at night?!” Iwaizumi yells, pulling Oikawa’s hair. “Going on that website?! What the fuck. Why would you even respond to comments like that. Were you leaving nasty comments first? No, don’t tell me. I’m going to throw your computer out the window.”
“How silly.” Oikawa laughs. “I use both my phone and computer to access that website.”
“That’s not something to be laughing about!”
“I won’t do it anymore. I promise. What does that guy know anyway?” Oikawa kisses Iwaizumi’s cheek. “The best person in the world wants to have romantic-times with me.”
“It’s a one-time thing. I already regret it.”
“Nevertheless, thank you.” Oikawa smiles. He sounds sincere. “How about we have that ice cream?”
Iwaizumi watches, hands clenched, as Oikawa pulls a bar out of the box. Oikawa unwraps the bar. He licks the chocolate coating and moans unnecessarily.
Iwaizumi tries to remain cold and disapproving, but he soon finds that his own irritation is melting along with the ice cream. After a moment, he wraps his hand around Oikawa’s right hand and bites a chunk of the chocolate off. Oikawa smiles, and when Iwaizumi leans in to have another bite, licks Iwaizumi’s tongue.
“Thanks,” Oikawa says, after they have finished the bar. “That ice cream was an adventure.”
“I’m picking our next drama,” Iwaizumi says. “And you’re not leaving the bedroom tonight.”
Oikawa begins, “Is that a prom-”
Iwaizumi pushes Oikawa against the kitchen counter and kisses him until Oikawa has relaxed, until Oikawa is kissing him back in the soft, content way Iwaizumi loves.