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Hanamaki downs another shot and Iwaizumi’s worry is spiking by the minute. It’s been over five hours that they’ve been seated in this booth at this not very inconspicuous bar and it’s getting close to past midnight. Hanamaki had burst into Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s humble home a few hours back, demanding to grab a drink together, obviously very disgruntled and they couldn’t help but wonder why.
Now though, as Hanamaki starts refilling his shot glass again determinedly, mumbling a choice of swear words, Iwaizumi just starts coming to how he and Oikawa forgot about Hanamaki’s really short tolerance to alcohol.
And now it’s definitely showing.
“He doesn’t love me, Oikawa,” Hanamaki groans, slumping onto the table in despair. Iwaizumi has lost track of this conversation now and he asks himself if he should bother.
Oikawa’s seated beside Iwaizumi, being responsible with holding his alcohol for once and he pats Hanamaki’s hand across him in consolation.
“Makki, no…”
“He’s never going to love meeee,”
“It’s all in your head…”
What the hell is going on?
Hanamaki’s wail is muffled into his arms and Iwaizumi sends an alarmed frown towards Oikawa.
What’s going on, he mouths to him and Oikawa presses a finger to his lips, beaming.
“He’s probably straight anyway!!” Hanamaki slurs.
Oikawa pats Hanamaki’s hand again.
“Oh, Makki noo, no,”
“Iwaizumi, just punch me—”
Oh so this is what it is. Iwaizumi groans internally.
“Makki, you’re drunk,” he says.
“No, I’m sure this time, Iwai….zumi, su—re,”
“That’s not quite right, Makki—” Oikawa tries again.
“Maybe he’s still figuring himself out,” Iwaizumi adds helpfully. God, Issei will kill him.
Hanamaki shakes his head, whining some more. For once, this scene is familiar and Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa with unimpressed eyes.
“He got this from you,” he deadpans.
Oikawa looks visibly affronted.
“Why, Iwa-chan how dare—”
Hanamaki lifts his head and cuts Oikawa off. He’s smiling confidently all of a sudden as though he’s figured something out.
“I know what I’m going to do,” he says bravely. “I’m going to tell him tonight.”
“You’re what?” Oikawa and Iwaizumi say in unison, suddenly having a creeping feeling of doubt.
Hanamaki taps the table with his fingers.
“I’m gonna tell him how I feel!”
Oikawa and Iwaizumi remain suspicious.
“Well that’s not really bad—” Oikawa starts.
But then: “I’m gonna make it grand, everyone has ‘ta know—”
“MAKKI, NO,”
“Makki, you’re drunk.”
“I’m gonna do it! This is a brilliant plan, he’s going to know now for sure, I’m so awesome—” Hanamaki sits upright, bright and determined and he continues relaying how brilliant his plan is and Iwaizumi is a little dazed.
“Makki, listen, you’re not yourself. Why don’t you do this when you’re sober?” Iwaizumi suggests.
Oikawa smiles encouragingly.
“Yeah, Makki! Also, it’s pretty late now, we should get you home—”
“No, no! I can’t do that, I have to do it now or I’ll forget!” Hanamaki says stubbornly, sounding more and more like Oikawa on normal days by the second. It’s surreal.
Iwaizumi runs a hand over his face.
“Alright, alright. I have a deal, we get you to our place so you can sober up and then we can tell you how ridiculous your plan is okay?”
Oikawa chuckles and Hanamaki grins.
Iwaizumi drives Hanamaki to his and Oikawa’s shared apartment complex, Hanamaki humming loudly in the backseat on the way while Oikawa looks at him now and again from the front.
Hanamaki gets hold of Oikawa’s laptop upon arrival and immediately goes on the net announcing he’s going to “look for flashy ways to confess” and Iwaizumi’s about to just give up right then. Oikawa is thoughtful though.
“Iwa-chan, we should help him,” he says. “No harm save for Mattsun’s part,” Oikawa giggles.
Hanamaki looks up from the laptop and bores a hole staring at Iwaizumi.
“You have to help me,” he says.
Iwaizumi scowls. “Why me—”
“Iwaizumi how did you confess to Oikawa?”
Iwaizumi inhales sharply and Oikawa bursts out laughing, laughter that doesn’t stop for a straight minute while Iwaizumi sounds pained when he mumbles, “Er,”
“Come on, Iwa-chan be helpful,” Oikawa snickers, poking at Iwaizumi’s side.
Iwaizumi glares at him and swats his fingers, that awfully embarrassing flashback during high school graduation running through his head and he can almost remember the feel of his second button in his clammy hand.
“I-It wasn’t anything fancy,” Iwaizumi eventually spits out.
“But tell me—” Hanamaki insists.
Iwaizumi’s cheeks are starting to heat up, a bad sign and a very good chance for Oikawa to start teasing.
“I-I just told him I liked him let’s drop this—”
Oikawa rests his chin on Iwaizumi’s shoulder and sighs dreamily, fluttering his eyelashes.
“With flowers~” Iwaizumi can almost see a heart emoji tacked at the end of the phrase. He won’t give in to this embarrassment, he won’t—
“Shut up, Oikawa.”
Hanamaki looks as though he’s thinking hard.
“I’m gonna do that, I’m gonna give Issei a shitton of flowers,” Hanamaki drawls, words almost unclear and he faces the laptop again, possibly looking for flowers he can scatter around Matsukawa’s doorstep.
“Oh boy,” Oikawa mutters.
Iwaizumi sighs. “You bet. You look after Makki, I’m going to warn him.”
Oikawa nods cheerfully before walking towards Hanamaki as Iwaizumi digs for his phone and dials Matsukawa.
Matsukawa starts talking before Iwaizumi can even say hello.
“Iwaizumi. Have you seen Takahiro? I’ve been trying to call him for hours and he’s not answering. Have you seen him? Where…?” he sounds genuinely concerned and Iwaizumi waits until he finishes a torrent of questions before replying.
“I’ve seen him, yeah,” Iwaizumi says, glancing at where Hanamaki and Oikawa are seated on the couch. “He’s okay, but listen, he’s drunk as hell.”
In the background, Hanamaki giggles drunkenly while Oikawa nods in mock seriousness.
“He’s what?”
“Yeah, you heard me. Drunk. He doesn’t get drunk often does he? It shows.”
“Oh my god,”
Iwaizumi can’t help but chuckle.
“We’re bringing him home in a bit, don’t worry. Keep your eyes peeled.”
“Iwaizu—”
Iwaizumi cuts the call and walks over to where Hanamaki and Oikawa are still huddled over Oikawa’s laptop.
“How’s it going?” Iwaizumi asks tentatively though he’s not sure he wants to know.
Hanamaki looks up. “Do you have a lawn mower?”
Iwaizumi is rather taken aback.
“A lawn mow—huh? What for?”
Oikawa smiles sweetly. “He’s going to cut grass.”
“What’s that now?”
Hanamaki stares brazenly.
“Grass means homosexual love in flower language.”
Oikawa nods appreciatively.
Iwaizumi gapes in disbelief.
“You are NOT mowing our lawn in the middle of the night,”
“Why not?” Hanamaki says, indignant.
“Yeah, why not?” Oikawa echoes, more of a teasing than anything.
Iwaizumi flicks at his forehead and closes the laptop much to Hanamaki’s dismay. Iwaizumi scoots closer to look at him seriously.
“Hanamaki, listen to me, no don’t look at the laptop look at me. You’re drunk as hell. Sober you would never try mowing our lawn at one am.”
“Ughguhguhgughhh, but I have to tell him…”
“I’m sure, like definitely sure there’s a ninety percent chance he already knows that, Makki—” Oikawa says.
Hanamaki sinks back on the sofa and Oikawa and Iwaizumi wonders if they’ve finally succeeded this time. No lawns will be harmed, no dignity shed, no grass cut…
That is until Hanamaki sits up again with a brighter, more determined look in his face.
“I’ll do it by hand!!” Hanamaki declares, standing up before Oikawa and Iwaizumi can do anything and he stomps his way into the kitchen all the while saying loudly, “I’ll take the grass by hand, I can do that hey, Iwaizumi do you have some plastic bags??”
Oikawa and Iwaizumi watches him go, Iwaizumi feeling helpless, swearing up and down he’ll never let Hanamaki touch anything barely alcoholic in his line of sight ever again.
Oikawa sighs though he doesn’t sound exasperated. More like tolerant of a stubborn child. He nudges Iwaizumi.
“Come on, Iwa-chan,”
“Ugh, okay.” Iwaizumi finally relents, standing up to follow Hanamaki in the kitchen before he can wreck anything else, Oikawa following him close.
That’s how moments later, Iwaizumi finds himself outside in the lawn at 1 in the morning, feeling cold as he holds out a medium-sized trash bag as Hanamaki throws in handfuls of grass, haphazardly ripping them out of Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s otherwise pristine garden.
Oikawa’s looking after Hanamaki, holding a flashlight over his head so that he can see what he’s grabbing, just in case he also manages to grab a passing garden snake somewhere. Hanamaki’s looking very serious for someone who is too drunk to realize how cold it is outside.
When the bag becomes half full of miscellaneously uprooted grass, Iwaizumi stops Hanamaki.
“Okay, this is enough,” Iwaizumi says.
“Our garden is looking pretty bad at this area,” Oikawa observes from where he’s standing and Iwaizumi can almost feel himself blanching.
“Are you sure that’s enough?” Hanamaki murmurs. “Do you think he’ll get the picture…?” Hanamaki continues worriedly, shaking his dirty, now green hands. It’s a good thing Iwaizumi had told him to remove all accessories he had on him.
“Sure, he will, Makki,” Oikawa assures him, steering Hanamaki back into the house. “Now let’s go wash your hands so you can go see Prince Charming, a’right?” He says it like he’s ushering a child, throwing a wink towards Iwaizumi as they pass.
There are 5 miscalls and 14 messages from Matsukawa when Iwaizumi checks his phone. It starts to vibrate again—another call—just as Iwaizumi is starting the car. Hanamaki’s in the backseat again, holding the bag while Oikawa sits next to Iwaizumi.
“Iwaizumi, your phone is vibrating,” Hanamaki comments, words drawling.
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says and he takes the call. “Hey—”
“Iwaizumi, where the hell are you? Where’s—”
“Hey, hey he’s right here, don’t worry.”
Oikawa chuckles.
“Who’s that?” Hanamaki wants to know. “Is that Issei? ISSEI?”
“Oh no,” Matsukawa says at the other end of the line and Iwaizumi can’t help the grin forming on his face.
“I told you he’s drunk,”
“This is my fault,”
“He got carried away with the drinks,” Iwaizumi says. “Maybe you shouldn’t fight over small things next time,”
Matsukawa sighs.
“We’re on our way, see you.” Iwaizumi ends the call just as Hanamaki whoops.
Matsukawa is waiting at the doorstep when they arrive.
“Oh,” Hanamaki says, disappointed. “How’d the jerk know we were coming?”
Oikawa bursts into laughter.
“Love will find a way,” he jokes.
They get out of the car, Hanamaki dragging the bag along and Matsukawa strides towards them and stops when Hanamaki raises a hand.
“WAIT! Don’t come closer!” Hanamaki exclaims and Matsukawa steps back in surprise.
Iwaizumi and Oikawa hang back, standing beside their car to watch, Oikawa looking delighted, Iwaizumi a little worried.
“Hiro, what’s going on?” Matsukawa asks in confusion.
Hanamaki smirks. Matsukawa is always so clueless! Always so blind—
“I’m sorry about earlier okay?” Matsukawa continues. “I called you several times but you never answered, I know you felt bad I forgot about our—”
Hanamaki stops listening, feels for his phone in his pockets and checks it and oh 12 miscalls, how could he have missed that?
Matsukawa inches forward again.
“Nope, nope, nope,” Hanamaki tells him, brandishing the bag. He’s going to do it. He’s really going to do it now, he’s finally going to say it so this idiot will finally know…and so unceremoniously, he dumps the contents of the bag in between the two of them.
Grass goes everywhere. On the path, on the other grass growing along the path, Hanamaki’s shoes…Hanamaki can distinctly hear Oikawa’s shout of glee.
Matsukawa looks appalled or at least, flabbergasted by what just happened, and really Iwaizumi can relate.
Satisfied with the grass, Hanamaki turns his full, blurring attention to Matsukawa.
“W-What is this?” Matsukawa says, hushed.
“Grass,” Hanamaki says bluntly.
“I see, yeah? Are you still mad at me?”
Was he ever mad at him? Hanamaki can’t really remember. He’d probably drank too much. When was he ever mad…?
“Grass is I love you in a gay way,” Hanamaki says because this is the most obvious thing! Silly Mattsun can’t even get something so apparent.
Matsukawa blinks at him slowly, clearly still a little baffled and someone is snickering. Definitely Oikawa.
“Grass?” Matsukawa echoes, sounding ludicrous.
Hanamaki covers his face with his hands so at least his voice will be muffled when he says, “Because I—hic I like—love, I love you a lot but you don’t like meeeee,”
There’s footsteps.
“Um, Hiro, hold on—”
“You might even be straight all this tiimmee…”
Matsukawa laughs, the sound is very sudden that Hanamaki takes his hands off his face momentarily to glare at him, affronted.
Matsukawa is smiling crookedly now.
“Takahiro, listen,” he says, taking hold of each side of Hanamaki’s shoulders.
“Ge’off,”
Matsukawa shakes his head and takes both of Hanamaki’s hands and lays it in between them as though he’s showing something.
“Oh,” Matsukawa sounds confused again. “Where’s your ring?”
“Huh?”
“Oh!” Iwaizumi pipes up, digging into his pockets. “I have it,” He tosses said ring to Matsukawa while Hanamaki looks on with a scowl.
“He was busy uprooting our prized Bermuda so I had him take it off before he loses it.” Iwaizumi explains, unimpressed. Beside him, Oikawa just smiles.
Matsukawa gives Iwaizumi a grateful smile and turns to Hanamaki’s hands again. He drops the ring on Hanamaki’s palm. Hanamaki’s using all his willpower to focus on the ring.
“Look here,”
Hanamaki looks up. Matsukawa’s holding up his left hand, pointing to his ring finger with his thumb, pointing to the ring identical to one on his palm.
Oh.
“You’re really far gone, huh?” Matsukawa says, amused and a little sad. “It’s my fault I forgot our anniversary and you left before I could say anything,” Matsukawa continues and just then, though slightly fuzzy, Hanamaki can recall bits and pieces of him storming out dramatically. How bizarre.
“You had to go spend the night with Iwaizumi and Oikawa too, instead of me,” Matsukawa adds.
“Oh he was terrible—ow!” Oikawa comments sarcastically before being elbowed by Iwaizumi.
“So you…?” Hanamaki pokes Matsukawa on the chest hesitantly. “You love me right? That’s real? No joke?”
Matsukawa snorts. “Yeah,”
Quick as a flash, Hanamaki bends down and grabs a handful of grass and smacks it across Matsukawa;s face before he can even react.
“You—You—‘re such a bitch,” Hanamaki mumbles and then slumps against Matsukawa’s chest, snoring.
“Eh? Hiro?” Matsukawa grumbles, trying to balance Hanamaki’s weight on him.
“Oh, love,” Oikawa says cheekily, giggles as he watches unabashed and nudges Iwaizumi.
Iwaizumi smirks, runs a hand through his hair and to his disbelief, feels a blade of grass through it that he takes out. He stares at it for a second before poking it against Oikawa’s cheek.
Oikawa blinks, surprised and when he sees what Iwaizumi is holding, he grins, chuckling as he takes it and leans down to kiss Iwaizumi on the cheek.