Chapter Text
Oikawa Tooru did not like mud. He had told that to his agent multiple times. Oikawa Tooru liked his hair, being complemented, and aliens. Clearly, however, Oikawa's constant nagging still hadn't gotten the message across. This was made clear when Oikawa found himself driving down a dirt path toward his new part-time job. His inevitably muddy part-time job.
"I need a new agent." Oikawa gripped tightly onto the steering wheel as he hit yet another hole in the narrow road. He clenched his jaw as relentless brambles scratched the side of his car. If he found even a single mark, he was suing.
Oikawa Tooru hated mud, wind (it ruined his hair), and now brambles. They didn't care how much this paint job had cost him. In hindsight, the paint job was the entire reason Oikawa had needed to find a part-time job. His mother had told him to watch his money. He hadn't. He hadn't needed to until recently; all the newest modelling jobs were being snatched by this new 'up and coming' model. What was his name? Akaashi?
Akaashi Keiji was drop-dead gorgeous. With his lustrous dark hair, Akaashi could win any modelling contract. His hair shone like newly varnished wood, glinting dangerously under the insistent camera flashes. His eyes glistened enticingly. They were sharp, deadly, stunning. His teeth, pearly white behind his baby pink lips, nicer than Oikawa's teeth-
No. Oikawa was perfect. He knew that. Girls loved him, boys couldn't resist him, and people stopped to gawk at him on the street. Oikawa wasn't intimidatingly attractive like Akaashi; he thought of himself as a more approachable sort of attractive. Recently, though, he'd been beginning to question himself. He used to look in the mirror and consider himself void of all flaws. Now he struggled to compliment himself. His eyes were pretty, he supposed. His hair was still his pride and joy- the one thing he had left that he felt beat Akaashi.
A quaint cottage rose into Oikawa's view, tucked away at the end of the dirt path. The brambles, which had undoubtedly done their worst to his car, loosened their embrace to reveal an expanse of dried mud which appeared to double as a carpark. A number of cars were abandoned there, all covered in crusty dirt, much to Oikawa's distaste. A dull green Range Rover was closest to the cottage. It clearly hadn't been cleaned in years. The paint was peeling and cobwebs trailed from the wing mirror to the bonnet. Next to this was a rundown old Fiat, the black paint barely reflecting the bright sunlight. Inside the car, sat on the dashboard, were two plush toys. Two crows. One looked way too happy to be sat in a boiling hot car, and the other reflected Oikawa's exact emotion at that moment- irritation.
Oikawa pulled his car in next to the black one. He hoped the Fiat wouldn't kick up too much dirt if it drove away before him. He wanted to leave this place without needing to clean his car. Something told him that wasn't going to happen.
Oikawa slammed his head back against the headrest. He did not have high hopes for this new job. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing for a miracle. Anything would do. Money to fall from the sky, modelling contracts coming from all angles, his car to explode... He was getting desperate.
A sudden banging to his right caused Oikawa to practically leap out of his seat. His head collided with the sun visor he had pulled down earlier, resulting in an almighty 'thump'.
"Dammit," Oikawa muttered, rubbing his forehead and checking for any signs of a bump. He wouldn't receive any modelling jobs with a massive bruise on his head.
After he was satisfied that there was no serious damage, Oikawa looked for the source of the noise. A man, probably about his age, stood just outside the driver's window. He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Now Oikawa couldn't stay hidden away in his car. He sighed, closing the sun visor before he injured himself further. Unbuckling his belt, the brown haired boy pushed the door open and swung himself out in one swift movement.
Oikawa was slightly taller than the man who had so rudely torn him from his reverie. Oikawa scrutinised him carefully. He looked friendly enough, an awkward smiled plastered on his face.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump," he offered Oikawa his hand. "I'm Sugawara Koushi, your new colleague. Welcome to Karakomasai Farm!"
"Nice to meet you, Sugawara. I'm Oikawa Tooru, the new part-timer." Oikawa took his hand, shaking it as he forced what he hoped represented a friendly smile onto his face.
Sugawara's face exploded into a huge grin, his eyes crinkling at the sides. His hair, an intriguing silver colour, seemed to sparkle under the relentless heat of the sun. A beauty mark just beneath his left eye added an endearing uniqueness to his appearance. He was cute, angelic almost. His pure beauty contrasted heavily with the tattered overalls he was wearing. It certainly was not a fashionable ensemble. The hideous green material was caked in what Oikawa hoped was mud. It was fraying at the sleeves, loose threads hanging from the joints. There were a number of mismatched squares of material, sewn haphazardly over holes and tears in the overalls. This drab green colour combined with the filthy black wellington boots was almost too much for Oikawa. He was used to wearing high street fashion- shirts emblazoned with bright patterns, trousers fashionably ripped and tatty, shoes made for aesthetic rather than comfort- not abhorrent overalls.
"Oh, call me Suga!" Sugawara- no, Suga- waved his hands in the air. The pair fell into an awkward silence as Oikawa looked disdainfully at Suga's mucky overalls. He hoped he would be given less filthy jobs. Were there any clean jobs on a farm? Animals stunk and flung their faeces around, fields were muddy, and his surroundings were dusty. He was not used to this. What if they got him to muck out stables or something? If they even tried to get him to do such a disgusting job, he would walk out. Oikawa Tooru would rather lose his newly painted car than lose his dignity in a stinky horse stable.
"Uhm, I suppose I should take you in to meet Daichi. He owns this place, so he'll be making sure you're doing okay. He's pretty busy at the minute, so he'll probably hand you over to one of the farmhands to teach you the ropes." Suga broke the awkward silence, a bright grin still plastered on his face, his eyes crinkling.
He gestured for Oikawa to follow him, spinning on his heel in the dirt. Suga was headed toward the cottage, talking as he went. Oikawa wasn't really listening to his story- something about a guy named Hinata and a cow- but was instead taking in his surroundings. The area was certainly picturesque, fields and forests running for miles around them. The blue sky was almost entirely void of clouds, only tiny tendrils of white fluff dragging themselves laboriously across the sea of sky.
The cottage that stood in front of him seemed to fit in with the surroundings. Oikawa could barely make out that it was painted white, due to the copious amounts of ivy crawling up the walls. It coated the walls and tangled itself around the mouldy drainpipes, threatening to spill in through the windows. The emerald green leaves danced elegantly in the wind, all seeming to follow a well practised routine. Oikawa wondered how long the ivy had been working its way up the house. The dirt cleared away enough to reveal a cobbled pathway that led up to the front door. The door was painted a questionable orange colour. The paint was flaking away, loose pieces joining in with the elaborate dance of the ivy. It looked cosy, though Oikawa was not sure he could live there himself.
"It needs a little TLC, I know. I keep telling Daichi we need to tame the ivy a little, but we never really get around to it." Suga smiled fondly at the house, his eyes twinkling with memories.
"No," Oikawa patted Suga's back lightly. "It has charisma."
"Oh, is that what it is? I just thought we were too lazy to take care of it."
"Maybe a bit of that too."
"You're not meant to agree!"
Oikawa grinned, holding up his hands defensively, "Hey, you said it! Besides, as a newbie, I'm not allowed to disagree with my superiors."
Suga chuckled lightly before walking toward the front door. He shoved it open, causing the hinges to scream in protest. Suga kicked off his boots and dumped them just inside the doorway. Oikawa followed him into the entry room. The floor was tiled, clearly anticipating the amount of mud that would be dragged inside. Oikawa removed his trainers, laying them neatly beside Suga's carelessly discarded Wellington boots. Suga had already exited the entry room, and Oikawa rushed to follow him.
"Daichiiii! The newbie is here!" Suga called.
Oikawa found himself in a sparsely decorated hallway, save for a few pictures hanging on the walls. The pictures held memories of Sugawara and a man with dark hair. A picture of them working on the farm, another of them on holiday together, one more of them in what Oikawa assumed was a volleyball uniform. On the opposite wall was a plethora of certificates; most of them were for Sugawara, declaring that he had won at some horse riding event, all of which were accompanied by a brightly coloured ribbon. Three doors led off from the short hallway, and a carpeted staircase was situated at the end of the hall.
"Do you want something to drink? We've got loads of green tea; Daichi has been hooked on that stuff lately."
"No thanks," Oikawa replied. "I could really do with a generous glass of sake though."
Suga chuckled, "I can empathise, city boy."
Suga led Oikawa through into a cosy looking living room. He signalled for Oikawa to take a seat, before excusing himself from the room. Oikawa sunk into the chair, hoping that he could drown in the depths of the spongy sofa. He could disappear into the soft pillows, never to be seen again. He could live a happy life as a pillow; maybe the pillow people would actually offer him some damn modelling jobs. They'd appreciate his gorgeous brown hair and luscious, chocolate brown eyes. Maybe he'd find a nice wife, or an amazing husband. They'd appreciate him for who he was, rather than the money he did or didn't have. They'd raise children who he would support to the best of his abilities. He'd love them and-
"Daichi, I got your call and- who the hell are you?" Oikawa, for the second time that day, jumped out of his skin. He had been rudely interrupted and violently removed from his fantasies. Oikawa turned, ready to snap. His intentions changed completely as soon as he set his eyes on the man who had just bombarded his way into Oikawa's daydreams.
"Well, hello," Oikawa slunk off the sofa, rejecting his pillow family for a much more delectable alternative. "I'm Oikawa Tooru. Model." He stuck his tongue out from between his lips, holding a peace sign in the man's face. Nobody could resist that; it was his signature pose.
The man standing before him was shorter by a couple of inches. His hair stuck up haphazardly in every direction. It was a gorgeous chestnut colour, deep and rich like freshly brewed coffee. His eyes were a beautiful brown, with green flecks shooting out from around the pupil like an emerald flame. His cheekbones and jawline were perfectly chiselled, set in his face as though they were sculpted as carefully as a marble statue. A light stubble ran the length of his jaw. It ran up into the depths of his hair, and Oikawa felt the urge to trace it, to follow the tempting path into his soft hair, maybe even tangle his fingers in the little hairs at the back of his neck. At this close distance, Oikawa could see a thin scar running vertically through the man's left eyebrow. His skin was lightly tanned, probably from long hours working out in the fields under the intense heat of the sun. This man was so attractive that Oikawa was willing to ignore the filthy jeans clad in mud and the shirt that had certainly seen better days. Especially as the shirt fell loose around his neck, giving Oikawa a lovely view of his sharp collar bones and pectoral muscles.
The man backed out of the door, "Daichi, who's this asshat?"
Oikawa frowns, reverting his tongue and lowering his peace sign to his side. Normally that works. Maybe he really was losing his touch. Twenty one and already washed-up, Oikawa thought.
"I told you to stop calling Suga that, Iwaizumi." A teasing tone can be heard in the disembodied voice.
There was a muffled 'hey!' from the room opposite. Iwaizumi was practically shoved back into the room by a man that Oikawa recognised from the photos he had seen in the hallway. This must be Daichi. Daichi stood slightly shorter than Iwaizumi. His build was thicker, but his face was a lot friendlier. He looked too young to own a farm; he must've been about the same age as Oikawa. He couldn't imagine taking on that sort of responsibility. He could barely cook for himself, let alone manage all of the tasks that running a farm entailed. He'd already proven that he couldn't manage his own money, so there was no way he could budget a farm.
"Nice to finally meet you, Oikawa. I'm Sawamura Daichi, owner of this wonderful farm." Daichi held out his hand to Oikawa. Oikawa took it, before following Daichi in his move to find a seat. Daichi sat back, sighing heavily and stretching out his long legs. It appeared as though he was fresh out of the shower, his hair fluffy and still slightly damp on the underside. Daichi waved his hand lazily in Iwaizumi's general direction, "I see you've already met Iwaizumi."
"I certainly have," Oikawa winked at Iwaizumi, whose face contorted in a look of sheer disgust as he sat in the armchair adjacent to Oikawa.
"Your agent said you're extremely hardworking. Is that true?"
"Well, I mean, I am the hardest working person I know." Oikawa grinned, flexing his biceps playfully.
"Good, because we're seriously gonna need your help over the next few months. Most of our cows have already calved, so that means it's almost peak time for milk production. Not to mention all the work that needs to be done readying the new fields to move the cows, because they've already almost eaten all of the grass in their current field."
Over the next few months? Oikawa had expected this to be a short-term employment. He'd come in, earn enough money to pay off his debts and then leave as soon as humanly possible. He certainly was not looking for a permanent job. Of course, if Oikawa was offered an amazing modelling opportunity, then he'd have to take it. He'd leave the farm without a second thought. There was nothing tying him there aside from his lack of money. Oikawa had no interest in calving or milking.
"Sounds good," Oikawa lied.
At that moment, Suga entered the room, balancing a tea tray on one hand and a biscuit barrel on the other. He placed them both down on the little round table in the centre of the room. He gave Daichi a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down next to him, nibbling on a chocolate biscuit. So, Daichi and Suga were that close.
"I'm glad you think so," Daichi leant forward and grabbed a mug of steaming tea. "Because I'm sure Iwaizumi is going to love working with someone so enthusiastic."
To Oikawa's left, Iwaizumi almost choked on the tea he was drinking. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth before speaking.
"No," he waved his hands wildly. "There is no way I'm working with him." He hissed, spitting out the last word as though it tasted dirty.
"Y'know, Iwa-chan, for someone so pretty, you're awfully mean."
A nerve jumped in Iwaizumi's jaw, "Don't call me that."
"I think it's cute."
"I don't."
"I think you're cute."
"You're not cute."
"You're right, I'm not cute," Oikawa smiled deviously. "I'm hot. Melt your ice cream hot."
Iwaizumi scoffed. His indifference to Oikawa's incessant flirting only made him more interesting. It had been a long time since he'd met someone who had more on their mind than his appearance. It was refreshing.
Daichi and Suga had reclined back in their chair, allowing the event to unfold in front of them. Suga pulled his knees up to his chest and continued to nibble on his biscuit as he rested his chin on his legs. Daichi slung his arm over the back of the chair, trailing his finger back and forth over Suga's shoulder. Their heads bobbed back and forth, as though watching a tennis match, as the pair quarrelled incessantly. Daichi decided to put an end to it, much to Suga's disappointment.
"Well," he clapped his hand to Iwaizumi's back. "I can tell you two are going to get along just fine."
Iwaizumi grumbled something incoherent, though Oikawa was certain it was a string if curse words.
"Want a tour of the farm, Oikawa?" Daichi asked.
"Of course! I can't wait to see all of the adorable animals."
"You've obviously never seen a cow," Iwaizumi drawled.
"Hey," Daichi snapped. "All my girls are beautiful, thank you very much."
"Yeah, when you're stood at the right end. I always end up dodging cow shit left, right and centre when Asahi and the others need help milking."
Oikawa grimaced. Dodging cow faeces did not sound appealing. What if it got in his hair? Ew. Mud was bad enough, but cow crap?
Iwaizumi noticed Oikawa's blatant disgust, "Don't worry, city boy, it's good for your skin."