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“Happy birthday.”
The first time was in high school, a day later than it should’ve been because Oikawa didn’t know it was Futakuchi’s birthday. Futakuchi instantly forgave him of course, but Oikawa still felt terrible for missing the younger boy’s birthday.
He made a promise to himself that day.
“Happy birthday.”
From the next year, Oikawa made sure never to miss the brunet’s birthday, whether he was texting him a quick birthday message or whether he was calling Futakuchi or whether he was to ambush the other boy and give him a bear hug to wish him the best.
Strangely, he had a strong desire to be the first person to tell the other boy “Happy Birthday”. He didn’t want to miss it. He wanted to be the first person to make that brilliant smile, one that could light up the whole sky with a shining glow, appear on Futakuchi’s pretty, pretty face.
“Happy birthday.”
That plan collapsed when Oikawa completely forgot the existence of time zones. He waited patiently in Argentina until it was exactly midnight, then he proceeded to text Futakuchi.
He made the mistake of asking whether he was first, then he felt his phone ring and he picked it up in excitement and curiosity.
“Do you want to know what number you were?”
Oikawa eagerly nodded on the other end of the call. He heard Futakuchi giggle, and it piqued his curiosity. Why was he laughing? And how was it possible for him to sound cute on a call with crackling voices and echoes?
“Twenty-seventh.”
An indignant shriek erupted from Oikawa’s end of the call and the last things Oikawa heard were light-hearted giggles and a quick “Thank you though” before the call died.
Needless to say, Oikawa was transfixed. He stayed frozen until the microwave pinged at him irritatedly, prompting him to get his dinner to allow him to ponder over the younger boy, who was as unclear as a box of gifts wrapped with shiny paper and velvet ribbon.
But, Oikawa thought to himself, presents are exciting.
“Happy birthday.”
He made sure that he managed to come back to Japan earlier so that Futakuchi didn’t have to bother to pick him up from the airport.
They met up in a small seaside restaurant, one which Futakuchi had recommended, and Oikawa sat in their designated seats as he waited for the other boy to turn up.
Just when he looked up at the clock to check the time, a pair of soft hands, smelling of something floral - hand cream?- covered his eyes, and Oikawa nearly slapped them away when he heard a familiar voice close to his ears.
“Guess who?”
Oikawa turned, and the biggest smile lit up his face when he saw the familiar, utterly gorgeous, shy smile on Futakuchi.
“Hello, birthday princess.”
The punch he received lightly on his arm was enough to make Oikawa dizzy with happiness, and he let Futakuchi sit.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, angel.”
Futakuchi laughed again, the melody he sang in his sweet voice triggered a snort from Oikawa as well, and soon, peals of their laughter filled the air and made it simply drenched in sweet, sweet, love.
“Thank you, darling .”
The night began, soft moonlight and the sound of the ocean whispers fluttering against their ears.
“Happy birthday.”
Futakuchi opens a box to see a pair of earrings, shaped like little stars dipped in argent. He leans over, faces close, he sees Oikawa clearly and they’re both flushed, and Oikawa rests his hand on the back of Futakuchi’s neck. Futakuchi hesitantly pulls the chestnut hair back to reveal a pair of gold star-shaped studs on Oikawa’s ears.
Oikawa awkwardly clears his throat, and the younger boy lowers his hand, only for Oikawa to swoop down and plant a kiss on his fingers.
“Matching. How sweet.”
“I know. I’m a genius when it comes to presents.”
“Happy birthday.”
This year was matching necklaces with a pendant of silver moon, sapphire embedded on Oikawa’s and emerald on Futakuchi’s.
They both loved it.
At first, they kept their respective colours, but then Futakuchi asked whether they could swap the colours.
As they traded, Oikawa didn’t miss the joyful expression on Futauchi’s face, and everything, all of his confusion and interest, melted away apart from the boy in front of him.
He later found out that Futakuchi wanted to swap, because having the other’s significant colours made Futakuchi feel closer to Oikawa. The reason was wonderfully beautiful in Oikawa’s eyes, and it made his chest dance with warm, golden flames of what he called love.
“Happy birthday.”
“What are you giving me this year?”
Oikawa hums out a response.
“Mhm.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Want an apple?” Oikawa tosses one from the fruit bowl without warning and the brunet yelps, then fumbles with his phone and catches the fruit,
“That was dangerous, bastard.”
“Then be patient for your present.”
Futakuchi huffs, and bites into the shiny apple as he watches Oikawa pull something out from his bag.
“Do I need to catch this too, then?”
Oikawa laughs and places a small box in Futakuchi’s hand.
“Nope.”
The younger boy stares at the little gift on his hand in shock, then back at Oikawa.
“...You didn’t.”
“Oh, what if I did?” The smirk on Oikawa’s face makes Futakuchi want to punch it off, but he doesn’t.
“You didn’t.”
“See for yourself. Open it.”
Futakuchi, uncertain and a little hopeful, opens the box.
“Happy birthday.”
“Are you running low on present ideas?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, yes, I am.”
“I thought you were a gift-giving genius?”
Oikawa huffs at the other boy.
“It’s hard, okay? I don’t know what you like, apart from sour gummies, and I get you that all the time anyway!”
Futakuchi pretends to ponder, then a little chuckle escapes his mouth as he gives a glance to Oikawa.
“I think I know what I want.”
Oikawa sighs. “You need to tell me earlier, I have to go and buy it now. What do you want?”
Futakuchi, after a moment of hesitation, strolls over, pulls Oikawa by the collar, and plants a kiss on his lips. When he pulls back, he has an accomplished smirk on his face and he winks flirtatiously, waving his left hand mockingly, gold gleaming on the ring finger.
“Thanks for the present, darling. ”