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“This is the third time this month,” Hanamaki declared loudly.
“And we are in the second week of the month,” Matsukawa commented behind him, flat voice. Iwaizumi frowned at them for a moment, before turning around and pretending to read something from the history book. He knew perfectly what the two friends were talking about, which was the main reason he was ignoring them.
“You don’t want us to believe that’s your sweatshirt,” Hanamaki insisted pointing a finger at him, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“You’re making a big deal out of it,” he snorted.
“Because we are talking about Oikawa! He’s obsessed with his stuff, he doesn’t lend anything to anyone and instead you’ve had that sweatshirt for two days, and when he saw you, he just shrugged. If I wore it, he would have already threatened me in ten different ways and would have taken it off me by force!” he exclaimed.
“He knows he mustn’t come near me,” was Iwaizumi’s flat reply, and Hanamaki let out a dramatically exaggerated snort.
“You’re so dense.”
“Oi,” Iwaizumi grunted.
“It’s true. You can’t deny that Oikawa is jealous of his stuff. Once he lent me a pen. A pen, Iwaizumi! And the next day he was pissed that I lost it,” Hanamaki kept insisting.
“It was a gift from Takeru,” Iwaizumi explained.
“And that time I borrowed one of his shirts? It was also a horrible shirt that he threw away after a week.”
Iwaizumi shrugged.
“Or that time he lent me a book, he gave me an endless list of things I shouldn’t do and the next day he demanded it back, like I might have already read it.”
Iwaizumi snorted, annoyed by that conversation that had been going on for more than two weeks now, and all just because once or twice he got confused and put on an Oikawa sweatshirt that his friend had forgotten at his house.
“Not to mention the time I asked him to lend me some hair gel, he looked at me like he was going to kill me and made up a ridiculous excuse not to.”
“That gel costs a lot.”
“Iwaizumi!” Hanamaki snapped, slapping the table to get his attention, and Iwaizumi looked up from the textbook, frowning.
“What the hell do you wanna hear? Yes, Oikawa is jealous of his stuff, he’s weird, you see.”
“That’s not the point,” Hanamaki snapped clearly annoyed. “The point is that when it comes to you, he is no longer jealous of any object. He lends you anything.”
“It’s not like he lends them to me, I’ll just take what I want,” Iwaizumi retorted, and Hanamaki glared at him.
“Don’t pretend you don’t understand. If I acted like you, or if anyone else did, he would have threatened us by now.”
“He’s right,” Matsukawa nodded.
Iwaizumi frowned slightly. He had nothing to say, however, because it was true. Oikawa was very jealous of everything, and in fact even Iwaizumi was surprised when his friend didn’t tell him anything when he accidentally took his favorite sweatshirt. But Iwaizumi thought it was different because they had grown up together and had always lent each other’s items. It was normal, natural, an age-old habit. Oikawa probably knew that Iwaizumi would give him everything back, or he knew he could get it back at any moment by simply entering his room.
“It’s probably just because we grew up together,” he finally shrugged.
“No,” Hanamaki said. “It’s because he likes you.”
“Oh please!” Iwaizumi exasperated.
“He’s right,” Matsukawa said, and Iwaizumi glared at him.
“He does not like me,” he spat out slowly, hoping he would get inside his friends’ heads. Apparently though, it was impossible.
“So why if you steal his favorite sweatshirt doesn’t he say anything? I’ll tell you why, because he likes you and he likes to see you in his clothes,” Hanamaki said, with a satisfied smile as if he had just made the discovery of the century.
“You’re ridiculous,” Iwaizumi said flatly. He would know if Oikawa had a crush on him, and he definitely didn’t. And not only because Oikawa was his best friend, but because his crush on his best friend had made him observe him closely, looking hopefully for any sign of interest. Which, contrary to what Hanamaki and Matsukawa said, there wasn’t.
“Okay, I’ll prove it,” Hanamaki said. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, waiting, and his friend leaned forward with a dangerous smile. “You’ll be wearing his jersey at practice tomorrow.”
Iwaizumi took a moment to understand, and then smiled slightly. If Oikawa was normally jealous of his things, for that jersey he had an obsessive bond. Everyone knew how much he cared about it, how proud he was to wear it, and how much his heart ached already to have to leave it to Yahaba next year.
“Ok. You’ll see that he will complain” Iwaizumi accepted convinced. Oikawa could normally be condescending with him, but there was no doubt that he would go mad for that shirt. He would make a dramatic scene and eventually force Iwaizumi to take it off, whimpering and ranting. Come to think of it, that would have been fun.
“Good,” Hanamaki smiled. “If I’m right, you’re gonna have to get me cream puff for a week.”
“Otherwise, you offer me ramen for the whole month” Iwaizumi decided, and Hanamaki accepted.
***
Iwaizumi found himself a little in awe when he took Oikawa’s jersey to put on. He had shown up for practice earlier so that his friend wouldn’t see him and stop him from doing it, but now that he saw Oikawa’s jersey raised in front of him, with the number one printed on the back, he found himself feeling a certain heat in the stomach.
“Wear it instead of thinking about your crush,” Hanamaki teased, and Iwaizumi glared at him.
“Shut up” he said but he followed what his friend had said and hurriedly put it on. After all, it was just a shirt, and it wasn’t the first time that Hajime took his friend’s clothes. Even if that was Oikawa’s jersey. It probably would have been less intimate to take a pair of his boxers. Iwaizumi quickly dismissed the thought before it developed into scenarios he wasn’t ready to face right now, and turned to Hanamaki.
“Prepare the money for ramen.”
“I don’t need it,” the friend smiled. “I’ll win.”
“Tsk” Iwaizumi just snorted, and then walked out of the locker room and went to the gym. He decided to start the warm up and Hanamaki followed. Shortly after the teammates arrived too, and slowly joined. Kunimi shuffling his feet, Kyoutani looking pissed already, and Kindaichi looking particularly in a good mood.
Oikawa didn’t come, however, and Iwaizumi realized that it was strange when the coach made them all line up and asked for the captain.
“He’s in the locker room,” Matsukawa explained. “Maybe he can’t find his clothes,” he commented with an amused little smirk as he glanced at Iwaizumi, and he frowned. Then he snorted.
“I’ll go get him,” he decided. The coach didn’t object and Iwaizumi passed in front of his teammates. He jumped slightly when he heard Kindaichi whisper to Kunimi “It’s Oikawa’s shirt” and for some reason he felt his ears warm up. He ignored the feeling and kept walking but before leaving the gym Oikawa entered out of breath.
“Sorry for the delay coach, but I couldn’t find my...” Oikawa paused and his gaze lingered on Iwaizumi, descending from his face to his chest and gaping without any sound coming out. Iwaizumi felt himself blush even more, because well, that was Oikawa’s shirt and he kept thinking that wearing it was much more intimate than anything else. And he felt more and more embarrassed, because now all the teammates were looking at him and who knows what they were thinking and it was all Hanamaki’s fault and he would have choked him and…
“You’re late,” Iwaizumi snapped abruptly, to interrupt any thoughts.
Oikawa blinked, and opened his mouth several times to say something, but without making a sound. He looked shocked, and Iwaizumi knew that this was only the beginning before the friend began to freak out and scream like a spoiled child over his captain’s jersey. Iwaizumi was already ready to snap back at him and throw a ball at him at the slightest complaint, but Oikawa didn’t scream.
“That’s my shirt,” he said finally, his tone surprisingly calm but his eyes still wide.
“Uh. Yes, I confused it with mine” he just said and Oikawa nodded slowly. Iwaizumi scrutinized him, ready to brace himself for any nagging complaints, but surprisingly Oikawa did none of that. Instead, he blushed and turned his head slightly, avoiding his gaze.
“Oh. Ok” he just said and then walked past him and caught up with the fellows in line. Iwaizumi looked at him in shock because, what the hell? No yelling? No complaints? Not even a little criticism that he stole his shirt?
He looked from Oikawa to Hanamaki, who was smiling not subtly.
“I want the first cream puff tonight” he told him and Iwaizumi was ready to throw the ball at his head.
***
Iwaizumi didn’t know what was happening to Oikawa, but the boy wasn’t playing well. No, actually, he was playing badly. By Oikawa’s standards of course, so he wasn’t exactly shit, but the difference in his sets was felt and he wasn’t the only one who noticed it.
“Sorry Kindaichi, it was a little short,” Oikawa said scratching his head nervously, and Kindaichi hurriedly shook his head.
“No, it was perfect!” he exclaimed.
“It sucked,” Iwaizumi retorted. “Take it back Trashykawa, we’re losing against those two” he pointed to Matsukawa and Watari, who smiled from over the net, as if they were having a great time.
“Iwa-chan, don’t get mad, it’s just a workout,” Oikawa said still avoiding his gaze and Iwaizumi frowned at the behavior. It wasn’t like him to behave like this, or avoid looking at him, or speak in a composed voice, or talk about a workout like it was nothing. Oikawa was competitive in everything, it didn’t matter if it was just training, he always wanted to win.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“A bad day can happen to everyone Iwa-chan. I promise the next launch will be perfect.”
Iwaizumi snorted, but didn’t insist and let him play. However, the situation didn’t improve. Oikawa missed his first serve by sending the ball out of bounds, when he tossed the ball to Kindaichi it was too high, and when he caught a ball, he was too slow. They lost the three-on-three in a short time, and Iwaizumi looked at his friend puzzled, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.
He would have approached him but besides not being able to train well, Oikawa was also behaving strangely, avoiding looking at him or talking to him. He hadn’t bothered him once, and this was something Iwaizumi didn’t remember ever happening. Even when he was in his worst mood, Oikawa never missed an opportunity to tease him.
Iwaizumi was starting to worry and, considering that his friend had behaved perfectly normal that morning, his first thought was that Oikawa was upset about his jersey. Iwaizumi sighed and a little annoyed he approached his friend and grabbed him by the shoulder, starting to push him towards the closet.
“Iwa-chan, what are you doing?” Oikawa jumped taken aback, trying to turn around. Iwaizumi tightened his grip and kept pushing him.
“We have to talk.”
“About what? Why do you have to bring me here? Do you want to kill me?” Oikawa complained as he gave up trying to escape.
“Stop being dramatic and come in,” Iwaizumi snapped, though he was relieved to hear his friend joking. He pushed him in and released the grip, then Oikawa turned around but he looked at him for just a second, before moving his gaze to the mats and taking an old broken volleyball to spin in his hands.
“Is it for the jersey?” Iwaizumi snapped straight to the point scrutinizing his friend. Oikawa blushed violently, and confused, Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” his friend stammered, staring at the hole in the volleyball.
“If you were so pissed that I took your shirt, you could have told me, idiot. I would have given it to you right away, you know,” Iwaizumi said and then frowned. Actually, he was still confused as to why Oikawa hadn’t made a scene when he saw him. Yes, Iwaizumi would have teased him, and probably his teammates as well, but it wouldn’t be the first time Oikawa would act overly dramatic.
“It’s not that,” Oikawa muttered, and gave him another look that seemed almost shy. Which was ridiculous, because Oikawa was anything but shy.
“So, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting weird ever since you joined the gym. Honestly, I thought you’d make a fuss to see me like this,” Iwaizumi said.
“Should I have done that?” Oikawa murmured.
“Well... yes!” Iwaizumi exclaimed. At least he wouldn’t lose his bet with Hanamaki. Oikawa didn’t answer and went back to staring at the ball in his hands as if he was uncomfortable, and Iwaizumi sighed. He wasn’t used to that version of his friend, and he didn’t really understand what was going on. Annoyed he approached him and Oikawa instinctively backed away and fell sitting on the pile of mats.
Iwaizumi looked at him in surprise, and frowned. He still didn’t understand what was going through Tooru’s head and now annoyance was beginning to mix with concern.
“Okay, got it,” he said and started pulling off the shirt. He had his arms raised when a ball hit his head, and Iwaizumi glanced at his friend, who was now completely red.
“What are you doing?” Oikawa practically yelled.
“I’ll give you back your jersey so you stop acting like an idiot,” Iwaizumi grunted. “Anyway, it’s not like I ever wanted to steal it from you.”
“This is not the problem!”
“Then what the hell is the problem?” Iwaizumi snapped. Oikawa started to answer, but then seemed to reconsider and closed his mouth. His cheeks still flushed, he turned his head back towards the door and took the ball back in his hands. “Oikawa, if you don’t tell me what’s the matter right now, I swear to God I’ll send the awful selfies you took with my phone to Hanamaki and tell him to send them all over the school.”
“Don’t you dare!” Oikawa exclaimed turning to him, and Iwaizumi stared at him seriously, to let him know that it wasn’t an empty threat. “You promised you’d keep them to yourself!” the friend complained.
“I never promised, and you’re pissing me off,” Iwaizumi snapped crossing his arms. “Come on, we don’t have all day. If it’s the jersey, I can give it back to you and...”
“You know what, post those selfies! I will always hate you, and I will never set to you again, but if you care so much, do it and leave me alone!” Oikawa snapped. Iwaizumi frowned in surprise at that reaction, which was the last thing he had expected. Oikawa would do anything to prevent those selfies from public, he cared about his image obsessively, so if he allowed him to, it meant he was hiding something potentially more embarrassing. Which didn’t make sense.
“Hey, really, just tell me what’s wrong, I wanna help you,” Iwaizumi admitted as he sat down on the mat next to him and forced himself to be more understanding.
“There’s nothing wrong,” Oikawa muttered, turning the ball over in his hands.
“If there wasn’t, you would have yelled at me for threatening to post your selfies, which is still a valid threat by the way. Come on, what are you hiding?” he said, touching his shoulder to his. Oikawa snorted slightly, and then moaned in a low voice.
“You’re going to make fun of me.”
Iwaizumi was about to reply that he always teased him, but noticing how really nervous Oikawa looked, he decided to change his approach. Maybe it was really something serious, and Iwaizumi was starting to worry. He was also worried about doing or saying something wrong, he wasn’t exactly the most sensitive person.
“I won’t,” he promised then.
“You make fun of me about everything.”
“Yes, you too. I won’t do it this time,” Iwaizumi said and then added, “I promise,” he raised his little finger and Oikawa looked at him from under his lashes.
“Promise you won’t act weird afterward.”
“I promise” Iwaizumi immediately said without thinking and when Oikawa squeezed his little finger Iwaizumi wondered what the hell his friend should tell him and began to feel anxious. The anxiety grew even more as Oikawa stared at the closet door in front of them, biting his lower lip nervously.
“It’s… the jersey,” Oikawa finally snapped.
Iwaizumi blinked in confusion.
“But you said...”
“Not in the way you mean,” Oikawa interrupted. “It’s just… it doesn’t bother me that you’re wearing my jersey.”
Iwaizumi continued to look at him without understanding.
“So, what’s the problem?” he dared to ask slowly. He had the feeling that he was missing something, but he really couldn’t figure out what.
“That I don’t mind you wearing my jersey,” Oikawa repeated louder.
“Oikawa, you’ll have to be more specific, because I really don’t…”
“Looks good on you. My jersey.”
“Um… thanks?”
“Uhhhh you are so stupid!” Oikawa exclaimed in frustration.
“Hey!”
“No, I won’t take it back. You are really stupid Iwa-chan. What the fuck, I’m telling you that my jersey, my fucking captain’s jersey, the one I keep like a relic because it’s one of my greatest prides and that I would never want to give anyone, looks good on you!” he snapped. Iwaizumi didn’t get the point.
“Well, I mean, it’s the same jersey I wear all the time just with a different number, so… isn’t that surprising?” he said hesitantly. Oikawa turned to him, looking at him like he was an idiot, and Iwaizumi felt a bit like an idiot, for some strange reason.
“You are an idiot. You really are a fucking idiot,” Oikawa said seriously.
“I will hit you.”
“It’s my captain’s jersey! You know how jealous I am of my stuff!”
“Of course I know!” Iwaizumi exclaimed starting to get annoyed.
“Obviously not, if you’re wearing it like it’s normal,” Oikawa hissed, now sounding angry.
“You said it doesn’t bother you,” Iwaizumi defended himself.
“That’s exactly the point, idiot! It should bother me, I should hate it, I should get mad at you and tell you to take it off, but… it looks good on you. Like, really good, and I like to see you wearing my jersey, even if it’s my fucking captain jersey that I’m hyper mega jealous of.”
Iwaizumi looked at him silently and Oikawa sighed as if he was tired.
“I like you, Hajime. That’s what the problem is.”
“Um. What?” Iwaizumi stammered, and suddenly everything Oikawa had said began to make sense. Oikawa liked seeing him wear his clothes. He liked to see him wearing his captain’s jersey, which he would never gladly give to anyone. And now that piece of cloth was starting to feel hot against Hajime’s skin and it definitely felt much more intimate than wearing his friend’s boxers. That was Oikawa’s jersey, which Iwaizumi was wearing like he was his boyfriend and…
“I like you. Romantically. To be clear, since you’re stupid,” Oikawa hissed and then sighed and stared sadly at the closet door. “It’s not that I find out now that you’re wearing my jersey, it’s just that now that you’re wearing it, I realize that I really, really like you, even more than volleyball. I…” Oikawa gave a bitter smile. “Don’t get mad, but I think I’m in love with you.”
Iwaizumi stared at him in silence as he felt the heat move from his chest to his cheeks and ears. His heart started pounding, and his chest tightened as he repeated Oikawa’s words over and over in his mind, trying to convince himself it wasn’t a dream. He couldn’t believe that his friend had just confessed to him, nor that he reciprocated his feelings. In fact, he couldn’t even believe he could wear that stupid jersey without Oikawa getting mad, because the friend was… Oh God. Oh God. That was completely out of his predictions, and it was starting to freak him out.
“Um. I know you’re upset, but I really want you to say something,” Oikawa mumbled.
“I love you.”
“What?” Oikawa turned away frowning, with a hint of hope in his eyes, and Iwaizumi felt even more on fire.
“Oh God” Iwaizumi put his hands to his face feeling like an idiot and unable to spell a sensible sentence. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life and the fact that he was with Oikawa only made it worse. Not to mention the warmth he felt, and that fabric on his skin that made him feel as if he and Oikawa belonged to each other, which was an even warmer thought and…
“Iwa-chan? Do you reciprocate my feelings?” Oikawa asked hopefully, and Iwaizumi dropped his hands from his face and nodded his head slowly. Oikawa’s eyes widened.
“Please say it again.”
“I’m in love with you, you stupid shit,” Iwaizumi said nervously.
Oikawa smiled and a moment later Iwaizumi didn’t understand anything anymore, because his friend literally threw himself on him, making him fall. Iwaizumi felt only the impact of his head against the mats, Oikawa’s arms wrapped around his neck, his long, muscular legs intertwined with his, and his broad chest against his and oh God, his lips. His fucking lips were so soft and so good that Iwaizumi didn’t want to leave anymore for the world.
He brought a hand to Oikawa’s cheek, returning the kiss and tilting his head so that their noses didn’t collide, and kissed him, as he had wanted to do for a long time. He felt Oikawa’s fingers tighten in his hair and their sweat-drenched shirts become matted, but that was the least of his problems.
“Say it again,” Oikawa pleaded between kisses, and Iwaizumi thanked the fact that his friend was continuing to kiss him to have an excuse not to talk, because honestly, it had been embarrassing enough to say his feelings the first two times. He couldn’t have made it a third.
But after a while Oikawa broke away from his lips and looked at him with such a pleading look that Iwaizumi felt his heart melt.
“Please, I’m afraid it’s a dream,” Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi smiled a little, feeling less embarrassed knowing he wasn’t the only one who felt this way.
“I’ll pinch you if you want.”
“Iwa-chan…”
“I’m in love with you, Trashykawa” Iwaizumi managed to say, and the embarrassment in saying it was worth it, because Oikawa gave him a smile that made his heart overturn, and then leaned over him making their noses touch.
“I’m in love with you too, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered and oh God, that sounded exactly like Iwaizumi had imagined in his dreams. He didn’t know what to answer but he didn’t have to, because Oikawa kissed him again, and then again, and again.
First softly, then hard, then softly again, until Iwaizumi steeled himself and reached into Oikawa’s soft hair and squeezed him close, and the kiss was hard again. Iwaizumi tugged at the strands and the moan he heard from his friend’s lips set his stomach on fire.
“Sor…” Iwaizumi stopped apologizing when he felt Oikawa start rubbing against him.
“Do it again,” Oikawa whispered, and completely dazed, Iwaizumi did so. The moan he heard was enough to make him hard but he couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed because Tooru fucking Oikawa was hard against his thigh and he was rubbing himself and oh God.
“Shit, Tooru…”
“You’re so hot Hajime,” Oikawa murmured against his lips, moving his hand up Iwaizumi’s stomach, shamelessly feeling every furrow on him and stopping at his chest. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of this moment.”
“Oh God” was the only thing Hajime could say. He dropped his hands from Oikawa’s hair to his back and hesitated a bit in between, when Oikawa looked up with a half-shy, half-mischievous smile.
“You can touch,” he said with red cheeks and bright eyes, and he didn’t have to repeat it a second time. Iwaizumi let his hand travel down to his ass and squeezed. Oikawa maybe didn’t expect this as he winced slightly and his foot hit some basketballs causing them to fall to the ground.
“Oops,” Oikawa chuckled, and leaned over to kiss him again. But Iwaizumi suddenly realized where they were and embarrassment filled him again.
“We…we should stop…” he tried to speak between kisses, but Oikawa ignored him. “Tooru” he called and finally his friend lifted himself from him, stopping kissing him. He didn’t move his hand from his chest though, not that Hajime minded. “We are… there are our teammates outside. And the coach,” Iwaizumi reminded him. Oikawa snorted slightly and still didn’t move. He didn’t even start kissing him again though, he just stared at him so piercingly that it made the heat rise all over Hajime’s chest.
“I can’t wear this jersey anymore without thinking of you right now,” he said, and Iwaizumi felt himself on fire.
“Don’t say embarrassing things, Trashykawa” he mumbled and Oikawa gave a small laugh, half nervous and half happy and it was perhaps the tenderest laugh Hajime had heard from his friend.
“Seriously, I… couldn’t take my eyes off you. You look really fucking hot in this shirt.”
Iwaizumi felt himself blush even more, because, what the hell. Why was Oikawa telling him? Did he enjoy embarrassing him? But no, that didn’t seem like his goal at the time. He meant it, and that was what made Iwaizumi even more embarrassed.
“It’s literally the same jersey I wear all the time just with a different number,” he said trying not to show his nervousness, which was quite difficult when he felt Oikawa’s entire body pressing into his own.
“You’re always hot indeed,” Oikawa smiled, and Iwaizumi made a huge effort not to blush. His friend’s smile changed from mischievous into an adorable frown. “You should say something like, Tooru you are so sexy too. I want to slam you into lockers every time I see you.”
“Oh my God,” Iwaizumi moaned bringing a hand to his eyes, and Oikawa laughed at him, kissing his lips again, and Hajime moved his hand from his eyes to his friend’s hair, reciprocating happily.
“But seriously, do you like me? At least half as much as I like you?” Oikawa asked when he separated, scrutinizing him with attention and a hint of insecurity. Iwaizumi felt his throat dry, and looked at the boy above him, with those deep eyes and tousled hair, swollen lips and red cheeks.
“Of course I like you, stupid.”
Oikawa smiled softly and looked embarrassed as he blushed at the compliment.
“Can you tell me without insulting me?”
“No, because you’re both stupid and pretty.”
“Mean, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa laughed, but from the smile tugging at his cheeks and the blush that was flooding his face, Iwaizumi knew that his friend was actually deeply pleased. Hajime smiled and ran a hand through his hair, admiring the sight of him.
“You are really, really, as hot as you are stupid,” he said amused and Oikawa stuck his tongue out.
“You are the one who didn’t understand my confession of love.”
“You suck at explaining yourself.”
“No, you’re just stupid.”
“I will beat you.”
“You can do it tonight in bed,” Oikawa smiled.
“Tooru” Iwaizumi gasped embarrassed.
“Do you know how long I have wanted to answer you like this when you threaten me?” Oikawa chuckled. “And you haven’t heard my greatest line yet.”
“You’re really stupid,” Iwaizumi said as he couldn’t find anything else to say.
“But I’m serious, tonight we can...”
“Guys, training.”
At coach’s voice Oikawa jumped and pulled away, and Iwaizumi sat up trying to look as composed as possible, even though he still had a half-hard that he hoped didn’t show.
“I really hope you haven’t done anything in here, and to be clear, if I ever catch you fucking somewhere inside the gym, I’ll have you running fifty laps around the gym every day until the end of the year,” Mizoguchi threatened.
Oikawa and Iwaizumi blushed violently, and Hajime was completely speechless as he mumbled a barely audible apology. Oddly, Oikawa also looked as embarrassed as he’d been a few times, and he had his head down in guilt.
“Sorry, coach,” he mumbled.
“Good, and now go back to training” the man ordered them. Oikawa and Iwaizumi got up and walked out of the closet back to the gym, where their teammates gave them curious looks.
Iwaizumi avoided everyone’s gazes as he approached Matsukawa.
“So, did you really fuck in the closet?”
“Of course not, idiot!” Iwaizumi exclaimed nervously, while Oikawa chuckled behind him.
“Not yet at least,” he said in a low voice so Mizoguchi wouldn’t hear.
“Didn’t you hear the coach?” Iwaizumi snorted turning towards his friend, who just looked at him with a sly smile.
“Are you really scared of his threat, Iwa-chan?” the tempter asked, bending his face as if he were assuming the perfect pose to be struck by the light filtering through the windows. As if he needed that to win him over, Iwaizumi was already completely in love.
And Hajime, he didn’t even know why, found himself laughing.
“No, not really,” he said sincerely through laughter, and Oikawa followed.
Hanamaki and Matsukawa looked at them puzzled, before exchanging a look.
“What did we do, bro?”
“I don’t know, but Iwaizumi, you owe me some cream puffs.”
And really, Iwaizumi couldn’t care less.