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When Tobio gets home from practice, the house is dark and quiet, despite it barely being dinner time. "I'm home," calls Tobio, but there's no response. Toeing off his shoes by the entryway, he follows a line of light into the living room. The TV is on, but Oikawa doesn't seem to be looking at it; a book lies closed on his lap.
"Oikawa-san," murmurs Tobio, almost hesitant. "Hello."
"Oh," says Oikawa, starting. "Hey, Tobio-chan. How was practice?"
“The same as always, Oikawa-san.” It wasn't, actually. He'd finally been able to sync with the newest member of their team – they'd been having a rough time, even though they had both been trying especially hard. The kid was only nineteen, fresh out of high school, and obviously unused to a setter at Tobio's level. They'd pulled off perfectly timed attacks today, though, and it only looked upward from here. He didn't think Oikawa would particularly appreciate these details; at least not when he got all blank-eyed and quiet like this.
When Oikawa only gives him a vague smile, not all there behind the eyes, Tobio perches on the corner of the sofa, not touching yet. "Did you eat dinner yet, Oikawa-san?"
"What? Oh, no, I don't think so. Do you want me to make something?"
"No, that's okay, but aren't you hungry? I'm starving." Tobio curls a little closer and presses a kiss to the top of Oikawa's cheekbone. He's been losing weight lately; his face is a little too sharp. Oikawa smiles and leans into the touch dutifully. Oikawa smells sweet, like scented soap and vanilla, so Tobio gives up all pretenses and clambers right into his lap. He picks up the remote. "Are you watching this?"
Oikawa shrugs, so Tobio leans into his chest, flicking through the channels aimlessly, tucking his socked toes under Oikawa's thighs.
Oikawa wraps an arm around him but tips his head to look at him strangely. "Didn't you say you were starving?"
"Changed my mind," Tobio mumbles. He's so worried. He wishes he could just come out and ask why are you sad, Oikawa-san, but he knows it wouldn't go over well. He presses his mouth to Oikawa's jaw and cups the back of his head, his heart full in his chest. Oikawa's hair is a little oily, and the back of it is curled and pressed in a way that belies the fact that he hasn't washed it in a while. He has a whole, intensive hair-care routine that he's weirdly obsessive about – their bathroom looks a little like a department store shelf. Times like now, when he got quiet and far away, the bottles just lie there. He'd once asked Oikawa what happened in his brain when he got like this. Oikawa had thought about it for a bit, mouth pursed. "It's like when you play five sets against a really hard opponent and you lose. You're so tired, but your mind won't stay silent about all the different ways you messed up. And the next day, everything hurts so terribly, and it feels like nothing really matters because what is all the effort for, anyway, if you were going to lose?" Tobio didn't really get it – get up and keep going, he’d thought – but seeing the way Oikawa had moved, like the air around him was pressing down on his limbs like oil, had made something deep inside him ache.
"Something wrong?" Oikawa asks, frowning, when Tobio stays there, fingers gently carding through Oikawa's hair.
"I just want to sit with you for a while, Oikawa-san. Do you want to sit with me?"
In lieu of a response, Oikawa only tucks his hands a little tighter around Tobio's waist, so he stays there, rubbing at the back of Oikawa's neck the way he knows he likes. Oikawa melts into the touch gratefully.
Tobio's arm is beginning to ache slightly from the angle, so he retracts, pushing up and away. Oikawa's arms tighten a little around him, but he lets him go without complaint. Tobio perches on the other end of the sofa, lengthening it out so that his feet are extended before him. "Hey," he says. "Come here." He pats his lap. Oikawa moves slowly, like it hurts, and carefully pushes his legs out, resting his bad knee on the other. Tobio will ask him later if the pain is back, if he's been doing his exercises. For now, he huffs a pleased sigh as Oikawa's familiar weight settles across his lap. He's quiet for a few minutes, rubbing slowly at Oikawa's temples, his cheekbones, his scalp.
“Oikawa-san,” he says. Oikawa's eyes are half-lidded, but he's not asleep. "Mm?"
Tobio's throat tightens. "Missed you."
Oikawa peers up at him – this is usually where he'd make fun of Tobio. "You were only gone four hours." He sounds tired, but he smiles a little.
"Being with you is the best part of my day, Oikawa-san."
At this, Oikawa laughs, throwing a hand over his eyes. "Not the volleyball?" he asks.
"No," Tobio says, determinedly.
"God, what do I even do with you," mumbles Oikawa. Tobio doesn't think it's directed at him, but the thickness in his chest loosens a little when Oikawa shakes his head, smiling, and leans up to kiss him. It's softer than usual – Oikawa doesn't usually feel like taking things forward when he feels this way, so they stay there for a few long moments, just enjoying being close to each other. When Oikawa pulls back, Tobio cups his jaw and kisses Oikawa's cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his nose. Oikawa's outright laughing at the end of it, weakly batting at Tobio. Tobio stares at him, a little wide-eyed. He's so relieved.
"Your laugh is my favourite thing, Oikawa-san."
Oikawa blinks and then curls into Tobio, hiding his face in his neck. "Why are you being so sweet?"
“Because I love you, Oikawa-san.”
"Fuck," murmurs Oikawa, and then pulls back to kiss Tobio so deeply that he gets a little watery-eyed at the end of it. When Oikawa pulls away, he stays there, looking at Tobio. He used to get a little nervous when Oikawa stared at him like this, intense and heavy. Now, it sends something warm to his gut, pooling sweet and thick like syrup.
"Thanks for coming home to me, Tobio."
It's a little confusing – where else would he go? This is his home. But he knows Oikawa means something more. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for continuing to choose me.
"I'll always come home to you, Oikawa-san. I'm the luckiest person ever for getting to come home to you."
So softly, that Tobio almost doesn't hear it: "No. That's definitely me."