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It all starts because Tooru forgets his keys.
The rain had begun when he was a few blocks down, nothing bad, just a light drizzle, so he had ignored it and continued on to the next street. But the rain picked up, so he turned around grumbling and started making his way back to the apartment. The rain got heavier and heavier, and by the time he actually made it to his apartment it was downright torrential.
Which was fine. Until he realized he didn’t have his apartment key.
“Fuck me,” Oikawa said to himself, before knocking on the door. “Iwa-chan?”
When there was no response, Oikawa pulled out his phone and dialed Iwaizumi’s number. It went straight to voicemail. Cursing, Oikawa calls and texts a few more times before resigning himself to his fate. He sits down on the front step in the rain. He continues to knock on the door, but Iwaizumi does not come running to let him in.
Where could he be, the brute? Why isn’t he checking his phone? Oikawa texts him a few more times, struggling because his screen is now getting rained on.
It had been chilly when Tooru had left for his walk, but now it’s windy and just downright cold. A breeze sends a shiver through Tooru’s body. He’s cold and wet and a little bit miserable. All he can do is hope that Iwa-chan will check his texts soon. He knocks half-heartedly.
Ten minutes later and the wind has become merciless. Tooru curls up into a ball, trying to shield himself from the chilly breeze. His clothes are absolutely drenched. He doesn’t want to think about what his hair looks like. He had spent a good half hour on it, and it was all ruined. Silly Iwa-chan. Where is he, anyways? He had only been watching TV when Tooru had left.
Ten minutes later, Tooru can feel his bone marrow shivering. He wishes he had any keys, his car keys or something, but he’s stuck out in the cold with nowhere to go. And Iwaizumi is in the apartment– Tooru had checked to see if his car was gone but it hadn't moved. Iwaizumi has just… fallen asleep or something. Tooru knocks again hopelessly.
Five minutes later Iwaizumi throws open the door in a panic. His hair is in a bad state of disarray that confirms Tooru’s sleeping theory. He looks overrun with concern. Tooru stands up quickly.
“It’s okay,” Tooru says before Iwaizumi can say anything. Iwaizumi steps aside to let Tooru in and he is finally in a warm shelter and not being rained on.
“It is not okay,” Hajime sounds horrified. “Tooru, I’m so sorry, I fell asleep on the couch and my phone was on silent. Are you okay?” Iwaizumi reaches for Tooru’s face and winces. “Tooru, you’re freezing. Come on, get out of those wet clothes. I’ve got you.”
“T-There are easier ways t-to get me u-undressed than leaving m-me out in the rain, you know,” Tooru teases, but he can tell it doesn’t land by the way he shivers through the words.
“I’m sorry,” Hajime says guiltily, and Tooru looks at him, startled.
“It’s not your f-fault, H-Hajime, I was joking,” Tooru shakily removes his shirt, wincing at the way he’s dripping water all over the floor. “M-my fault. Forgot my keys.”
“You could get pneumonia,” Hajime stresses. “Come take a hot shower, okay?” He grabs Tooru’s hand and leads him to the shower. “Strip, it does no good if you’re wearing wet clothes.” He turns on the shower and starts running his hand through the water.
Tooru huffs and obeys him, taking off the rest of his wet clothes and leaving them on the floor. Now he’s still shivering, just naked.
“Okay, it’s warm. Get in,” Hajime orders.
Oikawa sticks his tongue out as crosses the bathroom. He stares at Hajime. Hajime looks terribly disgruntled. “Come on, Hajime, I’m okay. J-just a little cold,” he says.
Hajime looks at him and Oikawa reworks his previous thought. Hajime does not look terribly disgruntled, he looks terribly worried.
“It’s not your fault. Don’t worry. I’m going to take this hot shower and I’ll be fine. I’m not fragile, you know.”
“Right,” Hajime says, turning on his heel and walking to the door. And he hesitates, just for a moment, but Oikawa catches it.
“Or m-maybe Iwa-chan wants to take a shower w-with me,” he says.
Hajime turns around, his cheeks flushed red. “A-actually,” he stammers.
Tooru’s jaw drops open. That was not the answer he had expected. “S-such a pervert, Iwa-chan,” he says, but he sounds more shocked than teasing.
Hajime’s expression turns annoyed. “Shut the fuck up, Tooru,” he says, “It’s not… not for that. I’ve just always wanted to– whatever. Just get in and stand there. I’m coming in soon.”
So Tooru steps under the steady stream of warm water and sighs in relief, it feels so much better, he closes his eyes and tips his face to the warmth. He stands with a blissful smile for a small while, opening his eyes only when he hears the rustle of the shower curtain and sees Iwaizumi stepping in.
“I… I’m not… I just want to take care of you,” Iwaizumi says shyly. “Seriously.”
“Okay, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says softly. Iwaizumi looks so serious that Tooru can’t help but be genuine too. “You can do whatever you want. I’m yours, you know.”
“You were out there for so long,” Hajime says, wrapping his arms around Tooru, then pulling Oikawa’s head down so that he can kiss his forehead. “My heart nearly stopped when I saw all those missed calls from you.”
“I’m okay, Hajime. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s my fault.”
Hajime just shakes his head. After a few moments of silence he frowns and says; “I’ve always wanted to wash your hair.”
Tooru gasps and jabs an accusing finger into Hajime’s chest. “Years of you making fun of how I take care of my hair and you want to wash it! You little liar, do you truly mean none of the things you mock me for?”
Hajime sticks his tongue out and then seems to realize what he’s done and puts it back in his mouth. Oikawa really is rubbing off on him. “You definitely spend too much time on your hair,” he says, crossing his arms and beginning to mumble. “You know I like doing stuff for you.”
Tooru softens then, as he always does when Iwaizumi says something vulnerable like that. “You know I like it too. Go ahead.” He almost says I love you.
So Hajime uncaps the shampoo and lathers some up in his hands before tilting Tooru’s head back and running his hands through his hair. He massages his scalp like that, making sure that the bubbles and water don’t run into Tooru’s eyes.
It feels magical. Hajime’s fingers are so unfair, the combination of warm water with the circles that Hajime is rubbing with his thumbs. Oikawa can’t help but let out a breathy sigh. Hajime is so cute for wanting to do this for him.
Curiously, Tooru flutters his eyes open just to see. Hajime’s face is surprisingly close, screwed up in concentration with his tongue pointing out the side of his mouth. Fucking cute. Oikawa closes his eyes again, reveling in the feeling of Hajime rinsing the shampoo out of his hair.
For a few seconds, Oikawa mourns the loss of Hajime’s hands in his hair, but Hajime’s there again almost instantly, running conditioner through his hair. He doesn’t use enough, the heathen, but Tooru would never complain, happy and content and in love with the way Hajime takes care of him.
He washes the conditioner out too, even though it’s a leave-in, and something about that is so endearing. It’s been years and Iwaizumi still doesn’t take care of hair properly. Oikawa loves him a normal amount.
When Hajime’s hands leave his hair, Oikawa thinks it’s over, but when he opens his eyes, Hajime is lathering soap up in his hands. No way, Oikawa thinks.
Hajime grabs Oikawa’s arm, almost defensively, but begins to wash his arm so tenderly that it can’t be denied like that; that Hajime loves him. Tooru holds his breath a little bit.
It is completely silent as Hajime devotes himself to washing Oikawa’s whole body with his soapy hands. It is disgustingly intimate and surprisingly non sexual, even as Hajime kneels down and soaps up Tooru’s legs, his feet, there is no ulterior motive. Hajime’s just doing this because… because he likes doing things for Tooru. It pierces very sharply in Tooru’s chest. He breathes through it.
Hajime stands up now, carefully rinsing the soap off of Tooru’s limbs, running his hands down Tooru’s back and chest and neck. He is so close. Tooru lets out a shaky breath and Hajime looks up in concern.
“Is this okay?”
He’s such a pretty thing. Tooru looks down at Hajime’s pretty eyelashes and his cute nose and admires his boyfriend for a few seconds. “Let me do it to you,” Tooru says.
Hajime smiles and shakes his head into Tooru’s chest. “Not today. I want it to be about you today.”
“You really spoil me, Iwa-chan.”
Hajime shakes his head again but it’s more like he nuzzles his face into Oikawa’s collarbone. “You deserve it. I like doing things for you.”
Oikawa bites back his next words because he knows Hajime would just flip the words around or deflect. But Iwaizumi deserves to be spoiled and taken care of too. And there is nothing Oikawa loves more than making Hajime smile.
Tooru tries to brainstorm things he can do to return the favor to Hajime, but his brain is mush. After being stuck in the freezing cold, being warm and tenderly touched feels so good that his brain has turned into white noise. He smiles sleepily into Hajime’s hair and Hajime turns off the water and reaches for a towel.
Similar to the way he had washed Tooru’s body, Hajime attentively dries Tooru from top to bottom, leaving butterfly kisses when he feels like it. Overwhelmed by the intimacy, tears prick at Oikawa’s eyes and he just sucks in his breath and tries to keep them in. He’s okay, it’s just been a while since he’s felt loved like this, if ever.
Hajime looks up at him finally, eyes wide and saying something that Tooru pretends he can’t understand. “You good?” Hajime says.
“Of course. You?”
Hajime just nods and used the wet towel to dry himself haphazardly, as if he couldn’t care less. The contrast from how he just treated Oikawa is so striking that Tooru shakes his head in disbelief and reaches for the towel.
Tooru stands up and towels Hajime off before pinning him against the wall and kissing him like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to do this. Hajime blinks back at him with wide eyes.
“I love you.” Oikawa says, mouth dry and heart pounding. “I love you. And maybe I’m not supposed to say that yet but I love you.”
“I…” Hajime averts his gaze, and he seems so nervous that Oikawa’s heart breaks but he doesn’t have it in him to want to take the words back.
“It’s okay,” Oikawa says.
“You know,” says Hajime, his gaze now stuck on the floor. “You know because it’s so obvious. It’s in everything I do. You pretend you don’t know because you do.”
Oikawa rubs his thumb over Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Yes,” he says. Of course he knows. It is earth-shattering knowledge, the fact that Iwaizumi loves him.
“You don’t have to say it just because you know. That I. That I… that.”
“You don’t have to say it until you’re ready,” Tooru promises, squeezing Hajime’s shoulder. “But I’m not just saying it to make you feel… well, I’m not just saying it. I love you. You’re my favorite person in the world and I’m in love with you. And it’s okay if you don’t believe it. Will you still let me say it?”
“You’re unbelievable.” Iwaizumi says slowly. He reaches for Oikawa’s hand.
Oikawa shakes his head and presses a kiss to Hajime’s forehead. “I wish you would believe it. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. I’m not that nice.”
Hajime forces a small laugh and smiles at Tooru, but he looks so rattled that Tooru sees through it instantly. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.
“Sorry, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says lightly, tugging on Hajime’s hand and leading him to their bedroom so they can get dressed. “I know that… that it’s still hard for you to believe it’s not one sided anymore. I should let you process.”
“I’m being stupid,” Hajime says.
Oikawa tuts lightly and squeezes Iwaizumi’s hand. “You’re not being stupid. Be nice.”
Hajime shakes his head. “But we’re dating and you’re everything I’ve ever hoped for. I should be able to trust that you… that you love me.”
“You’ve also spent years convincing yourself that I’m not into you,” Oikawa pokes Iwaizumi in the forehead. “It’s okay. It’s not like I’m super secure either. I don’t mind spending my time convincing you that you are something worth loving and that I love you more than anything.”
Hajime wraps his arms around Oikawa’s middle and kisses his neck. He doesn’t have to say anything. Oikawa knows what he means. It’s the result of years of unspoken communication, years of Iwaizumi’s eyes flicking to the side and Oikawa tossing to him before he calls for it. It’s how Oikawa understood Hajime was in love with him. Once he stopped convincing himself otherwise, he could open his eyes and realize that Iwaizumi weaves Oikawa into everything he loves. So whenever Iwaizumi decides to stop convincing himself that Oikawa is going to change his mind and walk out the door, he’ll see the way that Oikawa’s feet point toward Hajime in everything he does. That Oikawa’s heart is a compass and Iwaizumi is always north.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” Oikawa whispers into the top of Iwaizumi’s head. “Let’s get dressed and make dinner, okay?”
“‘Kay,” Hajime mumbles into Oikawa’s chest.
They don’t move. In the tiny space of their bedroom, there is no sound, only the miscellaneous city sounds that seep through the window and the steady beat of two compasses straining to reach their north and pointing towards each other.
::
“What do you want, Oikawa?” Hanamaki answers Oikawa’s phone call at the first ring.
“Why are you assuming that I want something? Maybe I’m just calling to check up on my good friend Hanamaki!”
“Are you?”
“No. Are you free next week to go see Iwaizumi’s game with me?”
Hanamaki hums, pleased. “I was wondering when you were finally going to show up to one of them. I used to go to like, all of them, back when he was first starting. Yeah, I can join you for the next one. What made you decide to finally show up?”
“Hmm… I was brainstorming ways to convince him I love him.”
Hanamaki chokes. “L word?”
“Oh my god, Hanamaki, grow up. Don’t call it the L word. Obviously I love him.”
“That part was obvious to me too, I just didn’t know you knew. Oikawa, I watched you be in love with him for months before you noticed.”
“I’ve never been gay before, I’m sorry I didn’t know how to do it right,” Oikawa says.
“You think you would have noticed your feelings if he was a girl?” Hanamaki asks, amused. “Well, anyways. I’m glad you’re doing this. I really do think it’ll mean a lot to him, and you’re right. He does need some help understanding that you love him. He can really be dense.”
“It’s so stupid that he thinks he’s underwhelming,” Oikawa shakes his head in disbelief. “He does the tiniest thing and I’ll lose my shit. He’s everything.”
“Aww, you’re so gross,” Hanamaki coos. “I’m kidding. I’m excited to see you there. You’ll lose your mind. Iwaizumi’s amazing.”
“Of course he is,” Oikawa says fondly, before hanging up. He’s heard the buzz, anyways, about how good of a year Iwaizumi is having. Considering he just moved from one league to a considerably better one, Oikawa’s not surprised to hear that Iwaizumi’s amazing. But it’s different than seeing it in real life, as Oikawa soon learns.
Oikawa is late to the game the next week, but not by much, Iwaizumi’s team, the Yokohama Falcons, have one point while the Suntory Sunbirds have four.
“Are you late to every engagement you have?” Hanamaki asks when Oikawa slides into the seat next to him.
“Are you?” Oikawa replies, distracted. Iwaizumi is beautiful, and his muscles are sincerely stupid the way they’re bulging and flexing. It’s unfair.
The Sunbirds serve, and the libero receives it, the setter comes out of nowhere and sets it, and someone else slams it down on the other side of the court. Oikawa, however, processes none of this, distracted from looking at Iwaizumi rotating positions, jumping for the ball, and pumping his fist victoriously. He didn’t touch the ball once and he is the most captivating thing Oikawa has ever seen.
But Iwaizumi is up for a serve next, which flies through the air in a blur, but the opposing team somehow receives. Iwaizumi receives it now, so low to the ground that his knees almost touch the floor, and Oikawa loses track of the match yet again because of the way Iwaizumi’s thighs bulge, he really is the sexiest thing, face pulled tight in concentration while his muscles tauten obscenely. Seriously, obscene. Iwaizumi’s body is frankly criminal, not to mention his skill and talent.
“Interesting.” Oikawa says.
Hanamaki looks at him smugly. “Keep watching.”
Oikawa does.
He might be biased, but Iwaizumi is one of the greatest players that Oikawa has ever seen. His moves are so precise, so graceful, his strength shows through every calculated move. He gets to the ball faster than Oikawa can even think. He’s so much better than Oikawa could have ever dreamed of being but Oikawa doesn’t have it in him to be jealous. He’s just proud. And in love. He loves Iwaizumi with every bone of his body, with every vein and every dendrite. There’s nothing he feels more than that, watching his lover run to and from, digging balls and slamming them down on the other side of the court.
He’s done what his past girlfriends thought was impossible– loved someone more than he’s ever loved volleyball. He knows it because he showed up. He knows it because volleyball doesn’t hurt anymore: it’s Iwaizumi’s sport now. It’s not his, but it doesn’t hurt to let go. He’s happy if Iwaizumi shines. He’s happy because he too, shines, by being Iwaizumi’s.
He doesn’t stand up and scream and cheer when the Falcons get a point, just feels the roar in his chest. Just thinks, that’s my boyfriend, that’s my Iwa-chan, and smiles even wider.
“Oh my god,” he says when Iwaizumi hits a serve that doesn’t even come close to the line. “Oh my god. I really love him.”
“You’re saying that because he missed?” Hanamaki raises an eyebrow.
“My heart,” Oikawa leans back and gets comfortable. His heart pounding like mad, a pulsating tiger in a tiny cage. “I’m saying it because it’s true. How could it not be? Look at him.”
Iwaizumi shakes his head but claps his hands in efforts to rid himself of his frustration and amp his team up. Next time! he mouths.
“He’s like, like the emotional part of a movie. When the pretty music kicks in and you realize that it’s a happy ending after all. He’s really everything to me.”
Hanamaki nods. “You’ve really got a way with words.” A sideway glance tells Oikawa that he’s being completely sarcastic.
Oikawa rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then leans forwards and rests a cheek on his palm. His eyes don’t leave Iwaizumi for the rest of the game.
::
Oikawa texts Hajime after the game – surrrrrprise iwachannnn! Im here and ur the hottest volleyball player of all time! Come talk to me <3 – and after a bit of a wait, Iwaizumi emerges, a little gross but hauntingly pretty.
“No way you’re actually here,” he says. “How are you here?”
“I heard this is where you go to see sex bomb Iwaizumi Hajime in action,” Oikawa teases. “Did you know you’re really hot?”
“You don’t… you’ve never come to a game before.” Iwaizumi states.
“And what a fool I was! I’m going to be cheering you on all the time now! You never looked into the stands, Iwa-chan. You would’ve seen me.”
“If I had looked into the stands and seen you I would have fainted from shock,” Hajime replies, shaking his head in disbelief. ”I never thought you’d show up to one of my games.”
“You what?! I’m a good boyfriend!”
“But volleyball makes you sad, and that’s okay. You don’t have to do things for me if they make you sad.” Hajime counters.
Oikawa shakes his head. “Volleyball is a sad ending but you are the most beautiful beginning. It’s different. You make me so happy I could burst. I liked being here.”
“Oikawa–”
Tooru wraps his arms around Hajime’s neck. “You know what, Iwa-chan? You always tell me that you’re proud of me, but guess what? I’m exorbitantly proud of you. That’s a new word I picked up. I’m overflowingly proud of you. I don’t know if that’s a word. But I’m seriously, seriously, so very proud of you and happy that you’re living your dream. And you are so insanely talented at what you do, and I know how hard you’ve worked, and that feeling I get when I see you in the stands, it’s greater than anything else. I don’t care that volleyball hurt me. I couldn’t be happier with how everything worked out.”
“You’re insane,” Iwaizumi says, wrapping his arms around Tooru’s body, pressing his face into his shoulder. “Thank you for coming. For everything. For being mine.”
Don’t thank me. You are nearly everything that I love. You make me the happiest. Doing things for you is easy for me because I love you and I love making you happy and I am so proud of you. You’re my favorite human being and I wish it was easy for you to believe I love you because it is so easy for me to do it. You deserve to know and to feel it the way I do.”I’m not insane,” is what Tooru says, kissing the top of Iwaizumi’s head. “My Iwa-chan.”
”No.” Iwaizumi says, and he sounds a bit wrecked. “I… Oikawa, I…”
He loves me, Tooru thinks, sure as the sunset in the west.
Iwaizumi just shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”
“It’s reality though,” Oikawa says, reading Iwaizumi’s mind. “That I love you. C’mon, I’m all over you all the time. You gotta be special for me to be that annoying.”
Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything, just holds onto Oikawa’s hand, which Tooru has come to interpret as one of Hajime’s love languages. When Oikawa will make Iwaizumi laugh especially hard, or go out of his way to do something special for Iwaizumi, or maybe when he’s sad and needs to be comforted, Iwaizumi reaches for Oikawa’s hand. Now, it’s the most grounding thing Oikawa’s ever experienced.
“And you’re a fucking amazing volleyball player,” Oikawa smirks. “Especially when you hit that serve in the first set nearly into the audience. Impressive aim.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but squeezes Oikawa’s hand. “Thank you very much, Tooru, for bringing that up and ignoring any service aces I had.”
Oikawa sticks his tongue out, then seized with the desire to be as annoying as humanly possible, licks a long wet stripe up Hajime’s cheek, laughing as Hajime reels back in disgust.
“God, ew, Tooru! What the fuck was that for?” Hajime rubs at his cheek and glares. A teammate walking by stares.
“You okay?” The teammate asks, eyebrows raised high.
Tooru bursts into laughter. Iwaizumi smiles wryly too. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, Hata. Just Oikawa being Oikawa.”
The teammate, Hata, frowns to try to digest this information. “Wait. Is this. Wait.”
“Boyfriend,” Tooru says, trying to sound casual instead of smug. He fails.
“Oh, he’s exactly like how you made him sound,” Hata says to Iwaizumi.
“What, extremely handsome?” Tooru asks.
“Something like that,” Hata says, but he turns to Iwaizumi and makes a face that says Wow.
“Okay, we should probably get going,” Iwaizumi says. “So that Oikawa will stop making scenes.”
“You love it,” Oikawa quips, but he happily lets himself be marched to the car.
“You’re so annoying,” Iwaizumi says. “So very, very…” and then he pulls Oikawa close and kisses him.
“I’m very very into you, that’s what,” Oikawa says when he can breathe again.
“Very into annoying me, more like,” Iwaizumi says.
“Very into your mom, more like,” Oikawa says.
Iwaizumi looks pained. “Babe.”
That shuts Oikawa up. He doesn’t know what to say, the pet name growing butterflies and ants in his chest, his heart picking up speed. He bumps his shoulder against Iwaizumi’s.
Iwaizumi’s understands immediately, like Tooru knew he would. There’s nothing that has to be said there. Iwaizumi just bumps his shoulder back.
They don’t speak. In the breezy weather of the Yokohama parking lot, there is no movement, only the straining of two bodies trying to be as close to each other as possible; because magnetic fields are magnetic fields and they’ve both got lovestruck compasses in their chests.