Work Text:
If six months at college have taught Iwaizumi Hajime anything, it’s that coffee can carry you through bullshitting an essay at 4 in the morning.
Yes, he’s fully aware that he should have planned ahead and completed it earlier but God, life has been far too tiring. Between trying to maintain some form of a social life, struggling to complete all his damn assignments, and suffering with his shitty sleep schedule, Hajime hasn’t exactly been putting 110% effort into his written work.
It’s not his fault essays are a pain in the ass. Especially when they’re about boring and irrelevant topics.
God, he hates essays.
Staring at his computer screen, Hajime continues to write, the clicking sound of his keyboard filling the silence. He picks up his coffee and takes a sip, eyes still on his computer as he lets out a deep sigh. The words on his screen begin to blur as he’s setting down his cup and he blinks, trying to refocus. He’s been at this for hours and can slowly feel his eyes sinking deeper into his head. He stares at his essay for a bit longer, hands hovering over his keyboard before he drops them and promptly lets out a loud groan.
He only needs to finish this last bit, his conclusion paragraph. His bibliography is already finished—God bless those online citing websites—so only a few more sentences and he’ll be free from this stupid essay, but something just won’t let him finish.
Hajime tries to focus on his screen, but his vision blurs and he rubs them in an attempt to make it go away. His eyes and body feel heavy, like multiple cement blocks are weighing them down. His chair is uncomfortable and his back is aching from his god awful posture. Hell, his ass even hurts from sitting for so long.
A buzz comes from his phone and he turns his head to look at it. Picking it up, the screen illuminates to show a notification from none other than Oikawa Tooru.
Hajime taps on the message notification and unlocks his phone. He scoffs at the message and quickly types out a response.
shittykawa: iwa-chan r u still up ??
iwaizumi hajime: yeah
shittykawa: ISNT IT LATE FOR U ?? GO TO BED
iwaizumi hajime: essay
Hajime sighs. His eyes flick back up to his computer and he groans upon seeing his work staring back at him. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them after a few seconds. His phone vibrates in his hand and he looks back down at it.
shittykawa: WHY DIDNT U FINISH IT EARLIER ?????????
shittykawa: AT LEAST TAKE A BREAK
Hajime thinks for a moment, leaning back in his chair. He really doesn’t have that much left to write, and the essay is due tomorrow at midnight. He only has one lecture tomorrow; if he manages his time well enough he’ll be able to finish it later.
iwaizumi hajime: fine
shittykawa: GOOD
With a sigh, Hajime saves his document. Despite autosave being turned on, he’s had his fair share of deleted works to know autosave cannot be trusted.
He slides out from his chair and stands up, tilting his head side to side to stretch. He shuts off his laptop and pushes his chair back under his desk. Quickly, he makes his way to his bed and lies down on it, making himself comfortable. Another notification comes through his phone and he starts replying back to Oikawa once more.
shittykawa: what was the essay about ???
iwaizumi hajime: boring shit
shittykawa: AT LEAST TELL ME WHAT IT WAS ABOUT
shittykawa: BORING SHIT DOESNT EXPLAIN ANYTHING
iwaizumi hajime: we have to research and write an essay on a famous person and their importance to our work field
shittykawa: iwa-chan is working hard then ??
iwaizumi hajime: i was before you texted me
shittykawa: U NEEDED A BREAK
iwaizumi hajime: whatever
Despite his response, Hajime really is grateful. He’s been bored of this essay and procrastinating for days. He crammed all his work in and just barely managed to hit the word count.
He’s exhausted if he’s being honest, but Oikawa doesn’t need to know that. Hajime looks back down at his phone to see more replies from his best friend.
shittykawa: ur right tho it does sound boring
shittykawa: anyways since u arent working rn TALK TO ME
shittykawa: IWA-CHAN HELLO RESPOND
iwaizumi hajime: it’s only been like two minutes calm down
shittykawa: AND THATS TWO MINUTES TOO LONG
Hajime rolls his eyes fondly at the message, a small smile making its way onto his face. He can practically hear Oikawa saying that in his stupid, whiny voice.
Glancing down at his screen, he sees a small seal image on his phone. It’s a Mamegoma Line. Oikawa’s been obsessed with using them lately for some reason, and Hajime can’t help but feel his heart soften a little upon seeing it.
The sleep deprivation must really be getting to him.
With a sigh, Hajime types out a reply to Oikawa, hitting send as soon as he’s done.
iwaizumi hajime: gonna sleep now its late
iwaizumi hajime: sorry shittykawa
A few seconds pass by and his phone pings as Oikawa’s response comes through.
shittykawa: DONT CALL ME THAT
shittykawa: ALSO GOODNIGHT
shittykawa: DREAM OF ME IWA-CHAN <3
iwaizumi hajime: night
iwaizumi hajime: <3
Hajime feels his face warm as he looks away from his phone. He quickly turns it off and sets it on his bedside table face down.
Did he really just send a heart to Oikawa? God, what the hell’s going on with him?
He doesn’t wanna think about how that stupid little heart on the end of Oikawa’s text made his stomach flutter. It’s not like it meant anything anyways. It was just a friendly gesture. Something between best friends. It’s not gay to send your best friend a heart after you say “dream of me”, is it?
Hajime feels himself cringe at that.
Maybe some sleep will make him stop thinking like this.
Apparently, no, eight hours of sleep will not make you stop thinking gay thoughts about your best friend.
Instead, eight hours apparently amplifies said gay thoughts tenfold.
What the fuck.
It’s noon and Hajime is still in bed, face red as he thinks about Oikawa.
More specifically, thinking of kissing Oikawa.
There’s no way this is happening.
Why now? Couldn’t God have waited a year or two until he was done with college? Let him have one crisis at a time?
He hates this. Hates that the only thing occupying his mind right now is the idea of kissing his shitty ass best friend. Hates how that idea makes his stomach curl. Hates the fact that he isn’t all that against it.
Hajime groans loudly, covering his face with his hands. His skin feels as hot as the sun. The scenario runs through his mind again and he sinks deeper into his mattress.
Why must feelings exist?
Rolling onto his side, he picks up his phone and opens it. He sits up and taps on the phone app, scrolling to find the person he’s looking for. The phone rings for a few moments against his ear. “Hello?” Matsukawa’s tired voice comes through.
“Hey, Matsukawa,” Hajime replies.
“Iwaizumi, with all due respect—in which I have none for you at this given moment—it is one in the fucking morning. Why are you calling me right at this very moment.”
Hajime winces in guilt. “I forgot about the time difference, sorry Matsukawa. We can do this later if you’re too tired.”
Matsukawa’s sigh comes through the phone. “I’m awake now, it’s whatever. So, what’s up?”
“I have an issue,” Hajime says simply.
“You’re gonna have to explain a bit more Iwaizumi.”
“Okay so well, I’ve been having these… dreams, right? And I don’t think they’re normal. It’s usually just about kissing Oikawa and stuff, and I’m always thinking about him. Like, I can’t do anything without it linking back to him. And it’s not like we’re gay right? Going on boba dates and hanging out all the time and cuddling can be platonic, right?”
“So let me get this straight,” Matsukawa says in complete and utter deadpan, “you’re asking me if it’s normal to repeatedly have dreams about kissing your best friend? Really?”
Hajime nods despite Matsukawa not being able to see him. “Yeah, I just said that.”
“And, you want to know if it’s gay to cuddle, go on boba dates, and hangout at any and every given moment with said best friend?”
“Yes, that’s what I said. Now, do you have an answer for me or what?”
Instead of an answer to his crisis, Hajime receives the most exasperated sigh he’s ever heard from Matsukawa. “You and Oikawa are the stupidest people I’ve ever met. Makki’s gonna get a kick outta this.”
Hajime cocks a brow. “That’s not an answer.”
“Oh my God, nope, not doing this. I’m going back to bed, don’t call me again.” And with that, Matsukawa hangs up on him.
Fine, Hajime can figure this out on his own.
Maybe it’s just from sleep loss or something.
However, as the week goes on, he begins to realize how impossible it is for him to not think of his best friend.
Oikawa Tooru occupies his every thought in every moment. Hajime can’t do anything without being reminded of his childhood best friend; he can’t even go to the grocery store without seeing Oikawa’s favourite sushi and thinking of him. He goes to the mall to buy himself some clothes and suddenly all his thoughts are about whether or not Oikawa would like them on him. He sees one fucking seal and all he can think is that Oikawa would love it.
Listen, Hajime knew he’d miss Oikawa when he left Japan, but he didn’t think it’d be like this.
He doesn’t think most people who miss their best friend dream about kissing said best friend. Most people’s insides don’t turn into complete jelly upon thinking about how pretty their best friend is. Most people don’t think about how good their best friend looks in skin tight jeans (holy shit, Oikawa’s thighs look good in them though. Don’t even get Hajime started on his ass.). Most people don’t—
Oh.
Oh.
Oh God, Hajime’s fucked.
When Hajime moved to America seeking change in his life, this wasn’t what he meant. In the span of one day he’s realized three things: One, he’s never been attracted to women in his life. Two, he’s apparently God awful at differentiating between platonic and romantic feelings. Three, he’s in love with (or has been for multiple years) Oikawa fucking Tooru, his childhood best friend of 13 years and has been completely clueless about it. Maybe that would make four.
It’s not a big deal though. Maybe if he ignores this it’ll go away.
Maybe.
Hajime presses his face further into his pillow, hoping the flush on his cheeks will go away. He’s groaning lowly when a ping comes through his phone. He lifts his head to look at the notification only to be greeted with the words Oikawa Tooru glaring back at him. He taps on the message and unlocks his phone.
shittykawa: r u busy ???
Hajime feels himself raise a brow at the message. Oikawa usually doesn’t ask, just does things and knows majority of the time Hajime will be fine with it.
iwaizumi hajime: no why
shittykawa: I WAS JUST WONDERING
shittykawa: U’VE BEEN BUSY A LOT LATELY
shittykawa: WE SHOULD WATCH A MOVIE OR SOMETHING TODAY
iwaizumi hajime: sure when
shittykawa: i’ll text u when im ready
iwaizumi hajime: got it
Hajime turns off his phone and sits up on his bed. He stands up and walks over to his desk. Maybe doing some work will help him get his mind off of Oikawa for a bit.
He works for a few hours, taking a few minute breaks, trying to resist the urge to check his phone. He’s typing out the conclusion of another project when a knock sounds at the door. He checks the time on his computer. It’s only 7:48pm. Why the hell is someone knocking at his door?
Hajime shrugs, assuming someone must have the wrong apartment. He’s about to start typing again when another knock rings out. He tries to ignore it, but when he does the knocking just increases.
He stands up and storms over to the door, ready to give the stranger a piece of his mind. He swings the door open and—
Holy shit.
Holy mother fucking shit.
There in his doorway stands none other than his childhood best friend of 13 years, Oikawa Tooru. He doesn’t look much different from the last time Hajime saw him, but his smile, God, his smile is still the same as it was when they were teenagers. The same smile he fell in love with.
“Hey, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says fondly, eyes shining.
“Shittykawa,” Hajime responds.
Then they’re rushing foward and their arms are wrapped around each other and fuck, Hajime knew he missed Oikawa, but seeing him now makes him feel invincible. Hajime tightens his hold on Oikawa, fingers digging into Oikawa’s clothes as if holding him tight enough would keep him here forever. “I missed you,” Hajime says, hoping it’s enough because God, he doesn’t know how to put it into words.
Oikawa pulls him tighter too. “I missed you too, Hajime.”
Hajime feels his face flush, feels the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It’s perfect; natural, really. His name rolls off of Tooru’s tongue as if it was always that way and has always meant to be. Ha-ji-me.
They hug for a few more seconds before pulling away and he’s so perfect, Hajime has never wanted to kiss Tooru more in his life.
All impulse choices and never thinking before he acts, Hajime does just that.
He rushes up and kisses Tooru.
His mouth is warm and his hands are on Tooru’s cheeks and it’d be perfect if Tooru was kissing him back. Hajime steps back, swallowing thickly.
Tooru’s eyes are wide and his hand has come up to touch his lips. Hajime doesn’t know what to do. He’s rooted in place; his body feels numb, he can’t move. Regret and satisfaction and want all flow through him. He wants more, but the sheer fear renders him helpless. Hajime wants to run, he needs to run; to forget this ever happened and just go back to the way they were before, because the idea of Tooru leaving him hurts far too much.
Hajime refocuses in time to see Tooru marching up to Hajime, yanking him by his shirt and kissing him on the lips.
Holy mother fucking shit.
Tooru’s kissing him with so much love and passion, no hesitance in his actions whatsoever. They meet perfectly, as though this is what they were always meant to do. They separate to breathe, and surge in again. It’s gentler this time, but still full of love. Their hands are all over each other, soft yet desperate touches. Hajime’s going to die because of this; Tooru’s gonna fucking kill him.
When they pull away again, Hajime looks at Tooru with the warmest smile on his face and Tooru mirrors it. Hajime wants to kiss him again.
“I’m home, Hajime.”
“Welcome home, Tooru.”