Work Text:
A song.
Tooru wakes up to soft crooning in his ears. Warmth around his body and someone on top of his arm.
“...you’ve hurt me…” Hinata continues
Tooru hums, eyes closed, puts his other arm around Hinata, and squeezes them together close. Hinata squeezes back.
He sings.
X
Rio is loud and merry and bright. Tooru learned this once he touched down at the airport and drove by the beach. His feet touched the sand and he felt close enough to the sun to burn and melt. Hinata Shouyou-
Hinata Shouyou. What a surprise.
“I want to see you again.”
Hinata looks surprised. Tooru doesn’t blame him. He’s surprised too. But he feels close enough to the sun and there is still sand under his feet. And he would not, cannot , let go of his hand. He hasn't felt this alive in months. Maybe years. Maybe there’s something else in him now, that wasn't there when he first touched down in Rio. He feels bold enough like he could drag down the sun and swallow him instead.
Tooru hopes Shouyou feels the same way.
“You’ll be in Argentina,” Shouyou says, like a beginning. “How-”
“I can visit,” Tooru says through the pressure inside his throat. He feels like he could throw up. Please, please, please, ple-
Something else flickers in Shouyou’s face. “What are you asking for?” he asks.
“Us,” Tooru says. Oh god he might throw up.
X
Tooru returns to Argentina with a hole in his chest. There is another hole that has been filled again, at least. You gain and you lose. Do we have winners and losers? Who knows. Tooru will win in volleyball, he thinks. What else can he win?
There’s a number in his contact list. Tooru feels stretched thin between his desire to delete it and to press the call button. He wants. He always wants things he cannot have. He’s lived all his life wanting things. Oikawa Tooru, the boy who never has enough.
“Tooru, listen,” José, of all fucking people, says, “a boy can only take you so far. Volleyball will take you to the top of the world. Now get off your ass and toss us something spectacular.”
Tooru wishes it was that simple.
“I’ve been sitting for five minutes. Give me a break.”
Someone sits beside him. “Do you need to talk?”
His teammates were there when he met Hinata. He doesn't know what they saw. They were not there for the rest. Tooru violently wishes he wasn’t either, or
“What are you talking about? Come spike my toss.”
X
Here’s the thing:
Shouyou did not say no. He also did not say yes. Tooru frankly thinks he does not know what to think. Tooru hopes he left something to think about. Tooru hopes Shouyou dreams of him. Of them.
Fuck, he’s in love, isn’t he? What an idiot.
Always, always, always .
When will he know when to stop? He wishes Shouyou would tell him to stop. He would listen to him.
X
“Why are you so dramatic?” Shouyou’s voice filtered through the phone.
Tooru feels like he could grow wings and fly to Rio. To that beach. To Shouyou’s apartment that he shared with that boy, Pedro. He feels like Icarus. He wants to be Icarus.
“What was I supposed to think?”
“I said I’d think about it. I didn't say no. Usually when people say they’ll think about it they’d say yes.”
“I’m pretty sure when people say they’ll think about it, they mean no but they're trying to be polite.”
“Well, I’m not saying no, am I?”
No, he’s not.
“I have the next weekend off.”
Shouyou inhales shakily. “If you’re sure.”
Tooru can taste the sea salt on his tongue and feel the wind in his hair. He’d been in Rio for a week but it feels like there’s a thousand years worth of memories to unbury.
“I want to see you so bad.”
“Are you sure it’s not the beating you’re missing? Gabriel and Gino still wiped the floor with you, most days.”
“I am going to kiss you.”
That finally shut him up. Tooru has his face buried in his knees. There’s an ache blooming in his chest. It swells and disperse. He wants to see Shouyou’s face.
“I thought we’re testing the waters. See where we’ll go.”
“I know where I want us to go. Do you?”
"Not yet," Shouyou says, small, smiling. "But I want to find out."