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Oikawa rolls an orange lollipop with his tongue across the palate from front to back. He does it again and again for hundred times. Tooru counts the seconds until the plane lands, looking at a huge screen in the middle of the waiting room at Ezeiza Airport. Waiting is not that simple as it seems.
Early in the morning, people already drink Havanna coffee – the expensive and bad ones in the whole country. Oikawa’s time concept three times ahead of the real time. Finally yellow number on the electronic airport clock changes to another, when this is on the count of 184 in his mind. Tooru manages to go to the bathroom to fix his perfect-to-even-touch hair and cross the waiting room from KFC to Havanna for few times until the plane lands.
Oikawa almost became a new Wizard of Oz on his own yellow brick road he made while endless waiting and frustrating of waiting (Tooru hates to wait and do nothing more than anything but maybe for Hajime he was able to do what he doesn’t like that much), but he is sure Iwaizumi don’t let him go to another world again. Everybody from the past life agreed that Argentina is the other world. Probably a whole galaxy.
Only fifteen minutes later on real time, Iwaizumi enters to the huge airport corridor and - accidentally blending in the crowd of Argentines – put his passport in tiny waist bag. Oikawa recognizes the gift he gave to Iwaizumi last year.
“¡Hola! ¿Cómo estás, novio?”, he giggles before cuddle his boyfriend and get it all over his body.
Tooru closes eyes and stopes his time for a while.
Breath in the smell of your darling and feel warm, every fold of clothes, every single millimeter of his body… all of this is a privilege.
It’s a privilege to be open for cuddles, touches, quick kisses on the forehead, cheeks and corners of the lips. They want to enjoy it fully, completely and perfectly, like little children.
Oikawa wants to be one of the huge vessels what he sees every morning on jogging. The huge vessel is full of liberty and rights to do what he wants to do and to be who he really is. The freedom to live without any reservation and silence for two. Here his feelings aren’t the secret anymore.
“I almost died because of waiting, Iwa-chan!”, he says gently while trying to move away from his boyfriend. Novio in Spanish. It sounds good like peach dream or honey on his tongue. “Why so long?”
Iwaizumi only rumple Oikawa’s hair and turn it from perfect-to-even-touch to something-horrible-happened-with-me in one second. But Tooru doesn’t mind. He obviously doesn’t.
While he is trying to stop taxi cab and importunately taking away Hajime’s travelling bag with some clothes and gifts for new Argentinian (“Don’t be such a stubborn, Iwa-chan! I've been waiting so long! And this is how you repay me? Let me help you!”), Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa carefully as if he is seeing his beloved for the first time and immediately falling for him. Tooru seems like on photos that he sends almost every day, but even deeply prettier. As always, tall, handsome and Hollywoodish. As always, with the heartwarming mole on his nose and his habit to put his hands in the lock as copping mechanism to protect himself, he steals Iwaizumi’s heart again.
And Iwaizumi obviously doesn’t mind.
In Buenos Aires cab, with open windows and with the air conditioning up to a maximum, they are holding hands. Tooru sleeps on Hajime’s shoulder and wrinkles sun-tanned nose every time, when taxi goes on sunny side of the road.
And Oikawa thinks, “Everything will be okay since now”. But it was not bad until now. By the way.
It was a little difficult. A little bit lonely. A little different than he would like and a little different from what he really wants.
Often Tooru asks himself,
“So, what do you really want?”
And no one of his own answers seems right or even acceptable.
“Let’s drop out your bags and go to drink some coffee”, proposes Oikawa.
Oikawa’s apartment has only one room for living and it was full of houseplants at different stages of flowering. The proudest plant is lily-white azalea, the most capricious and demanding of all flowers in his little garden, he calls it “my sweet daughter”. Oikawa has good genes because his plant daughter is as pretty and lovely as the self-proclaimed florist.
The rest of the room belongs to whole Oikawa’s present life. There is a place for Iwaizumi too.
The Buenos Aires heat is a cotton covering for city. Hajime secretly takes pictures of his boyfriend (and “his boyfriend” in head sounds like tinkles on the back), when Tooru orders two americano with milk. The americano with milk is a mockery, almost a sin, but Iwaizumi doesn’t mind. He probably wouldn’t mind if it’s latte without milk or coffee without caffeine, if only beside Oikawa and together with him.
Iwaizumi finds himself in middle of his 20’s at the airport counter in Tokyo. It seems to be absolutely fine. He has good career, money, plate on the center of Tokyo. He even has good relationship with his family. He has everything except one what he keeps silent about. At the earliest opportunity he flies away to his school best “friend”. He will do it over and over again.
The whole planet as distance is nothing for Hajime and his silly feelings.
This is double mockery. This is self-mockery and mockery of others. Nobody knows, but everybody already guesses.
Hajime decided long ago, he won’t hide and lie if somebody asks.
‘invite us to wedding’, texts Makki to their common for four chat.
‘don’t be shameless’, texts Matsun by step.
“I’m sure they’re sitting together and talking shit about us”, Tooru hides a gentle smile in his hand.
“They are like lovebirds”, Hajime says putting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Do you know that the lovebirds can die if somebody breaks their pair?”
“This is a silly legend, isn’t it?”
“Maybe”. Tooru turns his head and looks into Hajime’s eyes. “If even lovebirds can live after separation, so it’s no big deal for people. I’m right, no?”
“I don’t know. Ask your ficus”.
“It’s an azalea, poco loco”.
“You are poco loco because you drink americano with milk, not me”, Iwaizumi gives a little kiss to Oikawa’s shoulder through the fabric of the cotton t-shirt.
“When you leave, I’m gonna plant a new one called… Mmm… “Godzilla”, and you can be sure I won’t water this flower”.
“You’re lying”, Hajime smiles.
“Only about a watering part. I’m not sociopath”. Tooru lovingly pinches his cheek and gives him a smile. The softest, tenderest, most heart-melting smile. It hurts. It really does.
He did not know before that Tooru can smile like this.
With age Oikawa became a person who can be called mentally prosperous. It seems like his traumas and grudges slightly affect him. Wow.
With age Iwaizumi learns how to smile more, to be more open and be more himself in general.
Suddenly, life is easier after 25.
Maybe, life could be even easier, more fully and more like in dreams, if only Oikawa was with him for all the time. If only Iwaizumi was with beloved too.
On sunny day he will move all his stuff and take some place of Oikawa’s flat. Of course, he will start to water all houseplants according еру set schedule and he will stay here. With Oikawa as he should. As he belongs to. He will stay like permanently, like forever. Like he will even send wedding invitations.
But in the meantime, he drinks the americano with milk and calls azalea by ficus.
When they bask in the Sun at the park around San Martino square and watch the clouds and their quirky formations, Oikawa asks.
“Do you wanna buy a Messi t-shirt especially for you?”
“Let’s buy something less saintly”, Iwaizumi laughs.
“So, what about toothbrush and slippers?”, Oikawa rests on his lap. Such a pretty, sunny, unreal in glowing beauty. “I want something yours here. Something you can’t take to Tokyo or where-you-go-for-job, okay?”
Hajime already has something he can’t take away. Someone. Whole grown person who squints at the Sun and talks silly things. Where is this stuff coming from?
It suits Tooru to be adult who is too smart for a volleyball player. For Tooru it was unexpected. He can’t remember when he stopped to be the complicated teenager who rejected everything what he really needed.
He wasn't expecting and he he was’t sure he will kiss Hajime again, whe he kissed him for first time. But here they are. Kissing at Oikawa’s little garden, kissing with passion and true love.
Love and be loved is a privilege. Oikawa’s timer is completely broken but he doesn’t want to fix it. He takes his t-shirt off and undress his beloved by himself.
It suits Hajime too. To be adult who is not afraid to kiss his little lovebird collarbone and draw all love words on bronzed skins by lips.
They stop only when the real alarm rings again. It’s time to water the azalea.
“It’s your turn”, whispers Tooru. “Be a good parent”.
“We haven’t married yet. There are no kids without wedding”, Iwaizumi laughs but still wrap up in sheet and run to the kitchen to bring some water for the azalea and Oikawa who is lying on the bed without any moving.
“We aren’t the traditional family, so we can deal without formalities”, he says finally. “But if you want to marry me, Iwa-chan, you could just tell me and don’t use my sweet daughter as excuse for your wishes and”…
His cheeks are red.
Iwaizumi loves him. Always did. Always will.
“You learned so many smart words. It’s kinda hilarious. I am extremely confused”.
“You're confused? I am fucking confused, Iwa-chan”, Tooru laughs sheepishly. “Azalea just said that she too”.
“I love you and all your stupid jokes”.
Tooru throws a pillow at him.
Hajime thinks, “Everything will be okay since now”, and returns to the bed.
Being around, being together is a privilege and a mockery at the same time. They can survive this.