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Oikawa's chewing bubblegum. It smells fruity and sickly sweet—strawberry, most likely—and has Daichi scrunching up his nose when he's offered a stick.
“No thanks,” he says, lets his mouth fall open into a smile, his own now-flavourless gum sticking between his front teeth. It's after classes have long since finished for the day, and they're slowly making their way back to their shared room, Daichi with a few textbooks under his arm, Oikawa with no school bag in sight.
“Mint, Dai-chan? How boring.”
“And that stuff'll rot your teeth,” Daichi replies mildly, earning him a dramatic eye roll and an anticipated huff, though he doesn't mean it. Oikawa likes mint, Daichi knows—he was chewing peppermint breath mints the last time they studied together, curled up on Oikawa's bed, pillows and papers spread between them. Why he likes to chew mints, Daichi doesn’t know—it’s definitely one of Oikawa’s tamer eccentricities, though, and at the time he was too concerned with the numerous definitions he had left to memorize to bother asking.
As if to spite him, Oikawa unwraps the stick he'd offered to Daichi and pops it into his mouth, chewing noisily, and Daichi can only just hold back a bemused smile. He knows if Oikawa catches sight, he won't be left alone about it and he refuses to explain just how soft a spot for Oikawa he actually has. He grabs the wrapper before Oikawa can toss it over his shoulder, throws it and his own piece of gum into a garbage can, ever the responsible one, and the kiss Oikawa blows his way just borders on obnoxious. Daichi shakes his head, baffled at how irritation and fondness can feel so similar.
The novelty of chewing loudly wears off quickly, much to Daichi’s relief, especially once Oikawa’s certain Daichi won't make any comments (Daichi had learned his lesson not to nitpick early on, when they were dancing around each other as roommates-and-potential-friends). Oikawa returns to chewing closed-mouthed, his jaw working behind his cheek on the wad of gum which, if Daichi hasn't miscounted, now consists of three sticks. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the stretch of the gum over the tip of Oikawa’s tongue, watches him pop a little bubble. It's too thick to do much with, but Daichi has seen Oikawa blow bubbles big enough that if popped, could cover his face up to his eyes. He hasn't had the fortune of witnessing this happening, but neither has he given up hope that someday he might.
For as long as Daichi’s known him, one of Oikawa’s other eccentricities has been his ability to talk around whatever he's got in his mouth. He chews on candies, pencils, pens, gum, chopsticks, and talks while he's doing so. Irritatingly enough, he's legible, and once, earlier during the semester, when Daichi had the nerve (Oikawa’s words, not his) to pluck one of his pencils out of his mouth, he really didn’t have an excuse when Oikawa demanded an explanation.
‘Your mouth distracts me’ would be particularly disastrous considering they weren't together, Oikawa had maybe three girlfriends at any given time, and they were roommates. Unfortunately for Daichi, it would also be the truth.
So, when Oikawa begins talking around his gum today, Daichi tries his hardest not to be distracted by how he slips into a lisp on certain vowels on account of his mouth being extra full. He tries to look away when Oikawa blows another bubble, fishes the bit that got stuck on his upper lip back into his mouth with his tongue.
He doesn't realize Oikawa is asking him a question until they’ve halted and he glances around, confused, wondering why exactly they have stopped.
“Somebody's daydreaming,” Oikawa sing-songs, and Daichi clears his throat gruffly.
“History quiz tomorrow,” he says by way of sheepish explanation, wondering not for the first time if Oikawa has caught him staring and is letting him off, while laughing about it internally. God, what Daichi wouldn't give some days to get inside that pretty head of his. Then he'd catch sight of his roommate’s intent stare, realize he’s watching videos on UFOs, and decide maybe he’s better off leaving Oikawa’s brain untouched.
“Hm.” Oikawa doesn't seem convinced, and Daichi has to fight to keep his gaze off the rhythmic motion of Oikawa’s jaw as he chews thoughtfully. “I guess I’ll have to start my story all over again.”
He only sounds half-petulant, which means he wasn't talking about anything really important or he hadn't gotten into the meat of whatever story he had begun. Both options mean that Daichi hasn’t been caught after all, and he nods, only too eager to focus on something that doesn’t make him want to drop all his books, grab Oikawa by the collar, and kiss him breathless.
“You better listen this time too, Dai-chan! Maybe I'll quiz you after to make sure!”
Daichi laughs at that—Oikawa jumps topics so frequently that it's practically impossible for him to remember what he was talking about in the first place. Daichi thinks it would have to take some sort of divine intervention to happen—or perhaps help from the aliens Oikawa still insisted were real.
“A quiz from you, a quiz for history, can’t I ever catch a break?”
Oikawa smiles then, all sunny bright and bubblegum pink. Daichi’s stomach drops.
“I let you off once already, Dai-chan, isn't that plenty?”
The snap of his gum is loud over his laughter as Oikawa turns to continue down the hall, and Daichi remains rooted to the spot for just a moment, trying to think of a response. When nothing comes, he turns, hurrying to catch up with Oikawa’s quick, long-legged gait, cheeks as pink as the stick of gum Oikawa again offers.
This time, Daichi accepts it with only a small, self-directed grimace, and pops it in his mouth as Oikawa begins his story once again.
Later that night, when Daichi kisses him for the first time, Oikawa tastes like bubblegum, and Daichi doesn't think he minds the flavour so much after all.