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Hajime searched through his drawers and gave a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair. Where were all of his shirts? He searched his closet and every drawer but there was no sign anywhere of his usual shirts. Usually they were out of the wash by Sunday, but now all he could find were all the gaudy printed shirts and muscle tees that Oikawa had given him on several occasions as gag gifts.
He went down to the laundry room in the basement and found his mom and dad standing next to the washing machine. The floor was littered with tools and parts while the pile of laundry lied in a corner. His mother looked up and gave Hajime a exasperated smile. “The machine is broken, your father insist he can fix it-” “I can,” her husband interjects but she continues with a roll of her eyes, “but I think it’s about time we get a new one, that one was bound to break down anytime now.” Hajime nods with some understanding.
“Hey dad, want me to take a look at it?” Hajime offers and starts to walk down the stairs.
“No, no.” He waves off his son’s concern and walks back to the machine with his hands on his hips. “I got this, have some faith in your old man and it’ll be up and running again in no time.” He says and picks up a screwdriver with a frown.
“Well, alright…I’m gonna head over to Tooru’s, call me if you need anything,” Hajime reluctantly leaves and his mother calls “Have fun!” at his retreating steps.
Hajime hesitates in the hall and considers changing for a moment. He looks down at himself and decides yes, he should change, the idiot would probably end up complaining about his sweat or smell or something. (He always did.)
With his final decision, he trudged back to his room where he rifled through the pile of hideously tacky clothing Oikawa has managed to smuggle into his room with- ‘I thought of you when I saw it, Iwa-chan!’ and as gag gifts. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
He spotted a less offending color shirt and held it up. It was a black muscle tee with- You can volley MY balls any day in white blocky letters and of course a volleyball. Hajime mutters “oh my god” under his breath but takes off his shirt and pulls it on. Huh, not bad actually. Loose and a bit drafty but it was exactly what Hajime needed during summer’s sweltering weather. He gets up but not before shoving everything back in an unorganized pile in his closet. Grabbing his phone and keys, he’s out and down the street.
--
One 7 minute walk later, he’s on the porch of the Oikawa household ringing the doorbell impatiently. Hajime hears the call of ‘I’m coming! Gosh, Iwa-chan have some patience!’ and the door swings open and he can feel the rush of AC on him and it’s glorious. Next thing he knows, he’s shoving his way in before Oikawa can say anything else. It was hot on the way here why did he even bother changing.
He hears Oikawa gasp. “Iwa-chan, what are you wearing?!” Hajime turns around with a grimace and now “Shut up,” Hajime growls as Oikawa laughs and his face is most definitely not red from blushing, it was the sun, the god damn sun, alright? “My family’s washing machine is broken for now and all of my clothes that were supposed to be in the wash-aren’t.” he grumbles.
“Well Iwa-chan, I’m glad to be of help!” Oikawa snickers. He stands in front of Hajime and taps a finger on his chin. He tugs the low bit of the armhole and his finger brushes Hajime’s skin. He suppresses a shiver.
“Hmm you look even more like a Neanderthal, showing off your big sweaty muscles, Iwa-chan.” It comes out like a tease but his name leaves Oikawa’s lips like a breath. He drags his finger up the armhole while pulling and the shirt stretches towards Oikawa and they both watch.
It keeps stretching until it slips off the tip of Oikawa’s finger and it falls back on Hajime.
Hajime lets go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
He breaks whatever that was going on.
“Dumbass, you’re going to ruin my shirt.” He looks down at his shirt and adjusts it. He hears Oikawa scoff, “You can’t ruin what was already a hot mess.”
“You were the one that bought this!”
“I didn’t think you’d actually wear it, Iwa-chan. I thought you had a few brain cells left. Clearly, I misjudged you.” Oikawa squawks when Hajime musses up his hair and heads to the boy’s bedroom.
=
It’s a day later and the washing machine is still not functioning. His mother ordered a new one set to come tomorrow.
He has a team bonding to go to and thank god he has enough clean underwear and pants. He digs through the pile of guady clothing again and he hears the doorbell ring. At first it’s just one ring but then someone is ringing the doorbell repeatedly. Then he hears a beat pounded on the front door and he can hear beatboxing from his window. God damn it.
He rushes downstairs and yanks the door open to reveal Hanamaki with his fist up and other hand on the doorbell and Matsukawa with a hand cupped over his mouth. “Oh, hey Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki says like he wasn’t just abusing the purpose of a doorbell and pounding on Hajime’s door.
Matsukawa drops his hand and straightens up. “I was just about to drop some of my sick fires you wanna hea-”
“No thanks.” Hajime swiftly shuts him down because once Matsukawa starts he will not stop. “Just come in before one of the neighbors call the cops on you guys.”
“What are you doing still half naked? It’s usually Oikawa that takes forever to get ready, what’s the hold up?” They follow Hajime up to his bedroom.
“Well some stuff happened with the washing machine and long story short- I’m stuck wearing the tacky shirts Oikawa gave me.” The teen stands over the pile of clothes and Hanamaki and Matsukawa instantly go rummaging through it.
“Oooh, let us pick something out for you.” Matsukawa holds up a t-shirt with bananas printed all over it. Hajime kneels besides them and scoffs.
“Like hell I am. I don’t even understand half of these.” He holds up a red shirt. “What is a bae? Bae Watch? Isn’t it spelled wrong?” Hanamaki snickers and Matsukawa pats his shoulder sympathetically while shaking his head.
“Ah, this one is perfect for you Iwaizumi.” Hanamaki lays the white shirt out and it reads I’d flex but I like this shirt.
“Nonono this one here-” Matsukawa settles a hideously neon pink muscle tee on top and it says Strongest Mom in big black letters on the chest. Hajime greets his face with his palm and takes deep breaths and counts back from ten.
“No. Absolutely not.”
=
They spread out all the shirts and the two others insist on narrowing down the choices.
“Okay. So I vote for- Ball is LIFE, Dank Memer (“What the hell is a ‘dank memer’?” “That’s not important Iwaizumi-”) and Too Hot, Hot DAMN.” Matsukawa holds the shirts in his arms and Hajime can’t understand why the boy is clinging to the memer one so tightly.
Hanamaki presents his with a flourish. “Okay but get this- you can vote for mine over his. I have BEAST, Thirst is Real and, the flexing emoticon.” Hanamaki grins like all of his suggestions aren’t completely terrible. Matsukawa wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
Hajime sighs like the defeated man he is. “You know what. You guys can pick out one of those shirts and get this-fuckin’ keep them. Merry Christmas.” He drags a hand down his face as the two exclaim and start shucking off their shirts in favor of the ones they picked out.
“Re-gifting is kinda lame Iwaizumi but I’m willing to let this slide because I look pretty sweet.” Hanamaki smirks in his I Suck But At Least I Swallow muscle tee and Matsukawa is busy taking a selfie in the Dank Memer tank and mumbling about posting it on his blog. He shrugs.
Hajime sifts through all the clothing one more time and settles on the Ball is LIFE one and I’m with dumbass (surprise, another muscle tee). He examines both and knows he’s already attached to the- I’m with dumbass shirt already. Oikawa knows him too well. He pulls it on.
“Ooh very you, Iwaizumi.” Hanamaki snickers.
“Shut your face, let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.” Hajime doesn’t bother picking up the clothes. He’ll do it later.
Hanamaki shoves his previously discarded shirt in Matsukawa’s knapsack and they leave.
=
They arrive at the park and part of the team is engaged in a competitive game of Frisbee and Oikawa stands under a tree talking with Kunimi. “Hey, not sorry we’re late, Iwaizumi here had a fashion crisis.” Matsukawa jerks his thumb back at the scowling teen. They go join the fray of competitive keep away from Kyoutani. Hanamaki watches as Kindaichi narrowly avoids being tackled with a screech and runs as fast as his noodle legs can bring him. Ah, youth.
“Makki, what are you wearing?!” Oikawa looks delightfully scandalized. Hanamaki sidles up to Oikawa’s sticky side and doesn’t mind the sweat when he leans in close and murmurs “It’s a little provocative isn’t it? Wonder what you were thinking when you bought it for Iwaizumi.” Hanamaki snickers and Oikawa looks considerably less willing to talk about Hanamaki’s fashion choices.
The setter turns his head away and brushes the teen off of him. “It doesn’t matter, Makki.” He says airily. Kunimi watches them with mild interest. The first year seems to approve of Hanamaki’s shirt. He winks and Kunimi recoils with only slight disgust. Hanamaki is appropriately offended.
Kunimi coughs pointedly. “Pining and sexual tension aside, I’m gonna… go.” He lazily jogs to join the group of sweat and testosterone and hops over Kindaichi’s fallen body.
“Wow would you look at that, your sexual tension with Iwaizumi over there has scared off little Kunimi.” Oikawa shoves Hanamaki and he laughs.
“Shut up! There is no tension! Sexual or otherwise!” They watch Iwaizumi tackle Kyoutani and yank the frisbee out of his hands. They wrestle for a bit and Oikawa whimpers. Hanamaki raises an eyebrow.
“Fine! Maybe just a there’s a little! Just a little!” Oikawa’s voice goes shrill.
He pats Oikawa’s back sympathetically. “Glad that’s settled. Now all you gotta do is tell him and you can go at it- fluffy feelings and sweet nothings, the whole deal.” The setter whines.
“You know how it is, Makki! I can’t ruin what we have, that’s over 14 years of friendship thrown away for my carnal urges and stupid feelings I’ve had since we were like, 10!” He hisses. Hanamaki looks at him with disbelief and shakes his head. He turns to the boys that have taken to dog piling Iwaizumi and he cups his hands around his mouth and Oikawa’s eyes widen and he scrambles to pull Hanamaki back.
Hanamaki is doing this. It’s happening. He’s making it happen, bro.
He takes a deep breath and he bellows, “JUST DO IT.”
The boys suddenly grow quiet and Matsukawa perks up from beneath Yahaba and Kunimi. He musters all the strength of his memeing soul to physically shove Yahaba and Kunimi off of him and bellows back at Hanamaki, “JUST DO IT”. Dear god, it was like a mating call.
Kunimi gets up off of Yahaba groaning but manages a monotonous “Just do it,” slightly above his normal volume.
Hanamaki turns to Oikawa and yells with all his shitty meme passion into Oikawa’s relieved but grimacing face. “JUST DO IT.” Oikawa regrets many things, few of which include introducing Hanamaki and Matsukawa to blogging. He’s got 99 problems and they are about fucking half of them.
Now, the team has gotten up from their hot sweaty pile and Yahaba, Watari and Kindaichi don’t really understand what’s going on or what Oikawa should just do but shout along anyways. Kyoutani silently gets up off of his senpai and offers a hand up to Iwaizumi.
Matsukawa leads the boys to Oikawa and Hanamaki under the tree and Iwaizumi follows with confusion, Kyoutani following closely behind.
It was a valiant effort on Oikawa’s part not to stare at Iwaizumi. Great effort. So much incredible effort not to stare at those muscular, shiny with sweat, biceps and defined jawline, and that one drop of perspiration running down the side of his temple slowly and down his neck. Oikawa blinked. Well, shit.
Matsukawa grins from behind Iwaizumi. God fuck that guy, he’s in cahoots with Hanamaki, of course he is, the traitor, Oikawa opens his mouth to say something and but doesn’t get the chance to when over 70 kg is fucking shoved into him in the Adonis form of Iwaizumi Hajime and then meet the ground in a graceful manner called ‘what the FUCK, Mattsun’.
Suddenly, Hanamaki shouts about a race and next thing they know they’re all sprinting to the other side of the park where the fountain is and Iwaizumi and Oikawa are very much alone.
There’s a root nudging the side of Oikawa’s head and it kinda hurts but Iwaizumi hasn’t gotten up yet and he’s content just watching Iwaizumi get his bearings together and feeling his weight on him.
Iwaizumi growls. “Those assholes-” He moves to get up but Oikawa swiftly brings his hands around the back of Iwaizumi’s neck and keeps him in place. “What are you…” He trails off, seeing Oikawa’s serious face. Iwaizumi tries to laugh, “C’mon it’s hot and we gotta catch up to the others.” And he tries to get up again.
“Iwa-chan.” He stops and not for the first time, he simply looks at his best friend and wonders what’s going on between them.
“We’ll be best friends forever right?” Oikawa asks softly and his eyes examine each curve of the boy’s face. He finds himself wondering when the baby fat had melted away, when the flare of acne and pimples had gone down and left a few scars behind, when Iwaizumi had gotten so… breathtaking.
He headbutts Oikawa in the cheek with no actual force. “Of course, dumbass.” His voice is just as soft and warm; it makes Oikawa’s heart clench.
“Really? ...Even if…” He feels goosebumps up and down his arms and his skin burns with his touch. They’re so close, Oikawa realizes faintly. He can feel Iwaizumi’s breath on his lips and their eyes flutter closed. Their lips brush when he speaks again. “Even if…”
“If…?” Iwaizumi murmurs and they share each other’s air and little minuscule shifts to keep their lips brushing together.
“If… I… like you.” Oikawa whispers and they close the last millimeter with a pleasant shiver running down their backs. They go back and forth, tugging on each other’s warm lips and tasting each other for the first time.
Oikawa strokes Iwaizumi’s wet hair and skin and holds him as close as he can.
Iwaizumi leans into his touch and meets each shuddery breath with his own.
When they pull apart their breathing is messy and Iwaizumi rests his head on Oikawa’s shoulder. He presses a kiss to the sweaty skin and the boy shivers again.
Iwaizumi rolls off of Oikawa but stays close despite the heat. “I like you too. For a while.” He admits quietly, facing Oikawa. He takes hold of one of the boy’s hands and he kisses the palm offered to him when it strokes his cheek.
Oikawa chuckles softly. “Well that makes two of us, huh?” They laugh a little.
“Hey… was this what all the chanting was all about?” Oikawa groans and covers his face with his hands.
“Stupid Mattsun and Makki and their stupid memes.” Oikawa grumbles. Iwaizumi pulls his hands away and asks-
“By the way, what’s a ‘dank memer’?”
They hear chattering getting closer and the setter sighs with much exasperation. “You’re lucky you’re cute Iwa-chan.” He pecks him on the lips and he stands up, dusting himself off. Iwaizumi frowns with confusion and sits up, ready to protest.
“You’re better off not knowing.” Oikawa interrupts before he can say anything and sighs. He waves over the team.
Iwaizumi looks up at Oikawa and his breath hitches when the boy smiles down at him.
He’ll ask later.