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Oikawa took a deep breath and looked into the mirror, inspecting his makeup for the fourth time in fifteen minutes.
“Should I change my eyeshadow?”
"Me estás jodiendo. We already went over this, you’ve been at this for two hours aren’t you done yet?”
"Perfection takes time, Teo-chan."
A loud sigh sounded through the phone. His cousin, Mateo, was always bad at providing emotional support even in-person but it was better than getting ready alone.
"Hey! I heard that."
"I know. I did it loudly on purpose."
Oikawa stuck his tongue out at his phone and went back to fussing over his hair. One section was being particularly uncooperative and—
" ¡Por Dios! You look fine! There is literally nothing else you can do."
Oikawa grit his teeth as he scrutinised his appearance in the mirror again. He would be making his official return to his old social circles that night at Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s holiday party. It was the first large gathering he would be attending since he returned home after six years abroad. He wanted to look his best.
His phone buzzed.
“Shit, Yahaba’s outside. I gotta go.”
“Mhmmm. Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
Oikawa thought back to the nights they spent clubbing around Buenos Airs. “That’s not a lot of things.”
“Exactly, so you have a lot of options.”
Rolling his eyes, Oikawa bid his cousin farewell and disconnected the call.
By the time he arrived the party was more or less in full swing. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had decorated their condo beautifully with tasteful Christmas decorations as far as the eye could see. The entire place smelled of mulled wine and cookies. Oikawa made a beeline for the kitchen hoping to snag a mug of wine for himself. He rounded the corner and froze in his steps.
There, leaning casually against the granite countertops, stood Iwaizumi Hajime, engaged in what seemed to be a deep conversation with Ojiro Aran, the wing spiker for the Japanese National Team. Oikawa would've been less shocked if he'd been shot.
Iwaizumi looked good, even better than he remembered him. The past few years had been good to him. He hadn’t gotten any taller but he had gotten more muscular. His hair was shorter and he'd stopped styling it in his signature spikes, instead opting for a softer look. He was dressed in a button down shirt and a sweater the same shade of green as his eyes.
Before he could avert his gaze, their eyes met. The room melted away leaving only the two of them in their own little world. His ears were filled with the buzzing of cicadas, growing louder with every second he stood there. A montage of fleeting touches, stolen kisses, soft caresses and gentle smiles flashed through his mind. Memories of a summer years ago, memories he travelled halfway around the world to escape. His feet felt like they’d been stapled to the ground as he stood there mouth slightly agape and staring.
Iwaizumi was also staring at him, a little furrow between his brows. Oikawa’s hands twitched with the desire to smooth it out. He needed to leave the room before he embarrassed himself further but his feet remained rooted to the floor. As if in slow motion, he watched Iwaizumi begin to walk towards him and that was the cue his body needed to finally flee the room, escaping to the balcony.
It was a cool night and Oikawa didn’t have his coat with him but he didn’t mind. The cold was the furthest thing from his mind as he tried to wrestle back control of his brain. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the door to the balcony open and shut behind him.
“Tooru?”
That rich, deep voice, coupled with the note of annoyance and exasperation that was only ever present when he was around. He’d recognise that voice anywhere. Iwaizumi walked up to the balcony railing, next to Oikawa. Behind them they heard the sounds of the party, muffled Christmas music and conversation melted with the ambient noise of the city.
They stood like that, in awkward silence for several minutes before it became too much for Oikawa to bear. Leaving again felt wrong somehow, meaning his only option was to try and make conversation.
"Um, your hair looks different." He cringed at the painfully awkward attempt at conversation.
"Ah yeah," Iwaizumi looked down at the ground. "Not long after you… You kept telling me to switch from gel to something a bit softer and I did.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Iwaizumi sighed. “The elephant in the room won’t disappear just because we don’t talk about it, so I’ll just say it. It really hurt when you left, you know.”
Guilt sat like lead in Oikawa’s stomach.
“I was really worried. At least at first. None of my calls or texts went through, I thought something terrible had happened to you. After a week I was ready to file a police report and I would’ve done it if not for Issei. When I found out you went to Argentina, I got angry. And I was angry for a while. But at some point I started to wonder what I did wrong. I spent weeks and months agonising over everything I said and did to you, trying to figure what I could’ve done that was so bad that you’d move continents without telling me.” Iwaizumi stared out across the bustling city, a distant look in his eyes. “I couldn’t figure it out. I started spiralling. I’ll spare you all the gritty details but it wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m sorry.” Oikawa blurted out.
“I won’t say it’s okay because I’m not sure it is. I mean I got through it, but it wasn't easy. If not for the help of the team and my therapist I probably wouldn’t have been able to piece myself back together.”
“I’m really sorry, Haj- Iwaizumi.”
“And after all this time there’s been one thing I couldn’t figure out— why? Why did you leave?”
Oikawa swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I got scared,” he whispered. “I liked you so much and I just got so scared. We’d had a few arguments and what if you decided you didn’t like me anymore? What if you decided I was too much of a hassle? So I thought it would be better for me to leave first instead of suffering the pain of being left behind. And Hajime I’m so so so sorry, if I could go back in time and stop myself from leaving I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
The shorter man turned to face him, a fondly exasperated look on his face. “Gods Shittykawa, you’re such a drama queen. You could’ve just talked to me, dumbass.”
“Hey! I know okay? Or I know that now but I didn’t back then. You’re not the only one who’s done some growing and changing!” Oikawa pouted and for a moment, it was as if no time had passed. They slipped back into their old dynamic so easily and he felt his heart rate pick up. Maybe they could go back and start over, maybe they could get back to what they were. Oikawa never stopped loving Iwaizumi, he probably never would for the rest of his days.
The conversation lapsed into a more comfortable silence as Oikawa wracked his brain for his next move.
“Hey Tooru, would you...," the shorter man nervously rubbed his neck. “Would you like to grab coffee sometime? Or something else, doesn't have to be coffee."
Even under the multicoloured glow of the Christmas lights on the balcony, he could see just how red the tips of Iwaizumi’s ears were .
A small but genuine smile spread across his face. "Yes. Yes, I'd love to."