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“Babe, I’m home!”
The door slams close behind Tooru and he sets his grocery bags against the wall as he toes off his shoes. He pauses momentarily when he hears no response and peers into the dim house. Is Tobio not home?
“Babe? Tobio?”
Tooru frowns and looks at the shoes neatly arranged on the doorway. Huh. Tobio’s favorite sneakers were sitting on their usual spot, as were his flip-flops and Vans. Tooru would have to have a discussion with his boyfriend if he were walking around Tokyo barefoot.
He carries the groceries to their kitchen, expertly stepping over a spiky stress ball laying on the floor. Their apartment was full of them, just waiting for someone to slip and break their neck. Tobio had the bad habit of rolling one under his foot while doing other things, forgetting to pick them up after he’s done.
Tooru stacks packs of ramen into a cupboard, humming a song under his breath. Maybe he should be concerned about Tobio’s absence, but his boyfriend was in his twenties and could take care of himself. He was probably with Hinata, hopefully behaving.
Tooru’s ears perk up when he hears a clang followed by faint cursing. Ah. Tobio is home. He hopes the clang was not anything serious. If Tobio broke one of Tooru’s colognes again, he’ll… well, he’ll probably take one look at Tobio’s sad puppy eyes and forgive him instantly.
Tobio has that effect on Tooru. It’s the reason he wins their every argument even if he’s in the wrong. Worst part is he’s not even doing it on purpose to manipulate or guilt-trip Tooru; he’s just an adorable bastard who doesn’t realize his own power.
“Tobio, honey? Are you okay in there?” he calls out as he puts the last of the milk in the fridge.
“Yeah,” comes from somewhere, probably the bathroom based on the slight echo. “Dropped the hairbrush in the sink.”
Tooru hums and moves towards the place Tobio’s voice is coming from. “I called out earlier. Didn’t you hear me?”
There’s a pause in the shuffling behind the bathroom door. “Are you coming closer? Wait, hold on. Stay there.”
Tooru frowns and stops right in front of the door. He sets his hand on the doorknob. “Why? Tobio, what are you doing in there?”
“Nothing! Just don’t come in yet, okay?” Tobio’s voice sounds a bit frantic, and if he thinks that’s supposed to make Tooru worry less, he’s sorely mistaken.
Alarm bubbles in his chest and he grips the knob tighter. “I’m coming in.”
Ignoring his boyfriend’s protests he yanks the door open and barges inside maybe a touch too aggressively. Still, he’d rather be safe than sorry. Tobio’s behaving unusually today, he’s never been one to shut himself in their bathroom.
He meets Tobio’s wide eyes as he whirls to face him. He’s clutching a hairbrush to his chest and his shirt is stained, but that’s not what catches Tooru’s attention. He gapes at his boyfriend silently.
Tobio’s blond. His hair is blond. Not black. Blond.
He tries to speak, but the words stick to his throat. What the fuck? “I- your hair. It- what?”
Tobio flushes a pretty red and touches his hair self-consciously. “I dyed it.”
Tooru takes a deep breath. “You dyed it.”
“Mm. Well, Hinata dyed it, really.” He looks to Tooru, hesitating. “Do you like it?”
It’s that look on his face, that pinched, insecure one, that snaps Tooru into motion. He steps closer to Tobio and pushes a tentative hand in bleached locks. He can feel Tobio’s eyes on his face as he runs his fingers through his hair, scratching his nails over his scalp at the same time.
His eyes trail over every detail, taking in the look. It’s a shocking contrast to Tobio’s earlier hair color, a total 180. It’s jarring, seeing bright blond where he’s used to seeing inky black. But…
The more he stares at him, the way pale hair falls over blue eyes, compliments fair skin, the more he likes it. Loves it, even.
He lowers his gaze, smiles fondly at his boyfriend. “I do. You look beautiful.”
Tobio smiles bashfully and tilts his head. Tooru leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips. His heart feels instantly warmer, the way it always does when he kisses Tobio. He’s never felt love like this, not toward his exes in high school, not toward Iwaizumi, anyone. It used to be scary, but now he just embraces it.
He pulls back slightly, chuckling when Tobio follows blindly. His fingers find themselves in the other’s hair again, tugging gently. A soft hum escapes Tobio.
“I assume this was an impulsive decision? You don’t usually keep stuff like this from me,” Tooru questions as he eyes his boyfriend’s hair. It makes sense he would look amazing with bleached hair, Tooru has yet to find one color that hasn’t worked for him.
Tobio leans into Tooru, sets his head on his shoulder. He’s a clingy motherfucker, Tooru has come to find out. He’s clumsy and awkward about it, never really learned how to ask for physical affection, but Tooru’s always happy to give it to him all the same.
His hands find Tobio’s waist, familiar with the feel of curves and muscle. He turns his head to watch them through the mirror. Tobio’s back is slightly hunched and his hands dangle between them limply, hairbrush still in hand. Tooru chuckles and presses a kiss to the blond’s temple.
Tobio’s words are muffled as he speaks against Tooru’s neck. “Hinata came over with the supplies and said I should bleach my hair. I would’ve called you, but I didn’t want to interrupt your time with Hajime.”
“Baby, you don’t need my permission to dye your hair. Besides, you look gorgeous. Are you going to keep it?”
A shrug. “Maybe. Probably not. My hair feels really brittle.”
Tooru has to agree. Tobio’s soft hair is gone, replaced by rough texture. He hums lightly. “That’s fine. We’ll just let it fade on its own. Did you buy purple shampoo?”
Tobio peers up at him with a slight grimace. “Uh, no. Should I have?”
“Well, if you want to keep it pretty, you need to take care of it. It’s okay, we can go shopping later. My mom used to bleach her hair, so I know some things that could help.”
Tobio relaxes in hold again. “Okay.”
They stand there in silence for a while, Tobio with his eyes closed, tucked against his neck and Tooru with his eyes glued to the mirror, trailing over their interlocked bodies. Tobio really fits between his arms perfectly, like he was made for it.
Tooru frowns when he finally notices Tobio’s stained shirt. “Hey, is that my shirt?”
“No,” Tobio answers too quickly, shuffling even closer. Fond exasperation swells in Tooru’s chest.
“You lying thief,” he murmurs against Tobio’s hair. “Should have never asked your sorry ass out all those years ago.”
“You didn’t ask me out, you pulled me into a supply closet and kissed me. Besides, you love me,” Tobio mumbles sleepily. He’s like a cat, dozing off every time he curls up against someone.
Tooru sighs and smothers a smile against rough, blond locks. “And every day I regret my decision to do that.”
It’s what he says, but they both know the truth. Tooru gives the bigger portion to Tobio every time they split a dessert at dinner, he washes his hair when he’s too tired to do it himself, he reads books out loud to him when he has trouble falling asleep, he has a velvet box in his pocket, just waiting for the right moment to pull it out and ask the question.
Oikawa Tooru is unquestionably, unapologetically, fully and utterly in love with Kageyama Tobio.