Work Text:
Being one of Iwaizumi’s numerous kouhais for years, you’d think that Tobio would have seen it sooner. Alas, he was a blind, insufferable, hyper-focused volleyball idiot for the majority of his youth so. So. Tobio admittedly hadn’t been looking that hard at anything else, other than his volleyball abilities, growing up. But now, as a member of the national team, he allows himself to relax, to have a little reprieve from the extensive Olympic training, to really, really look.
And god, maybe he has been blind all these years.
“You’re staring again, Tobio-kun,” someone chortles lowly by his ear and Tobio turns to meet the gaze of Miya Atsumu, who’s smirking down at him.
Tobio frowns, his gaze flickering back and forth between the view and his teammate. “Was it obvious?”
Atsumu snorts. “Tobio-kun, ya got as much subtlety as a lion in a herd of zebras.” The older setter flicks his forehead, before he bends down to pick up his towel. “If yer gonna stare, at least try to hide it better. It’ll fit your persona as tall, dark, and mysterious better.”
“Since when have I been…” He scrunches his brows. “Tall, dark, and mysterious?”
“Ya really gotta look at Twitter more often,” Atsumu says offhandedly. He sounds distracted. When Tobio tears his gaze from the view to look at his teammate, he’s right: Atsumu is distracted, practically wide-eyed ogling at. Well.
“I thought you said to be subtle,” Tobio remarks and the other setter rolls his eyes, not even bothering to look over.
“Yeah, for yer case . Thankfully, I’m shameless.” Atsumu lets out a low whistle, his lips curving into a low smirk. “But damn, Iwa-san’s ass really does look good from this angle.”
Tobio shoots Atsumu a glare. “You should be a little quieter. He can probably hear you.”
“‘N that’s okay. I could care less. Actually, it would be better if he could hear ‘cuz the things I’d let Iwaizumi do—” Atsumu waggles his eyebrows suggestively and before Tobio can make another retort—
Atsumu’s mischievous smirk is wiped off his face when Sakusa smacks him in the face with his water bottle.
“Oi—!”
“Ugh, now my bottle has your germs on it,” Sakusa mutters before he flicks his disdainful gaze at Atsumu. “What did we agree on?”
Atsumu averts his gaze and he at least, has the grace to look a little sheepish. “...Respectful staring.”
“...And are you respectfully staring?”
The setter has the grace to hold his silence. Instead, he looks away with a pout and Sakusa rolls his eyes exasperatedly. Tobio ducks his smirk behind his water bottle as he takes a sip. Justice will always be served in due time. Though…
He watches as Iwaizumi slides to one knee to receive one of Hinata’s spikes. The ball hits off his hands with a satisfying thud and he laughs out loud at Bokuto and Hinata’s shouts as Hyakuzawa chases the volley. Iwaizumi pulls himself to his feet, his thighs pulling and flexing in his tight shorts. A bead of sweat drips off his brow and the athletic trainer swipes it off with the back of his hand absentmindedly.
—it’s not like Atsumu is wrong.
(Tobio will never let Atsumu know that he agrees with him.)
“Is Miya-san objectifying Iwaizumi-san again?” Ushijima settles into the spot next to him, his gaze focused on the volley before them. “I thought we made a pact.”
“When is Atsumu-san not objectifying Iwaizumi-san?” Tobio says dryly.
(When are any of them not objectifying Iwaizumi-san, that’s what Tobio would like to know.)
(The answer is never.)
Ushijima nods curtly as he unfolds his towel and dabs at his forehead and the back of his neck. “He has a point, unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately?!”
Ushijima blatantly ignores Atsumu’s indignant protests. “Iwaizumi-san is really on form today. That tank top makes him look delectable.”
Behind them, a newly arrived Hoshiumi chokes on his Pocari Sweat and Sakusa ducks his face behind his towel, his cheeks flush with laughter. Atsumu only stares, his face aghast.
“...I never want to hear anyone say I’m the only person who objectifies Iwa-san ever again.”
“At least Ushijima is respectful about it,” Sakusa deadpans.
“How is ‘delectable’ respectful objectification?!”
“Face it, Miya.” Hoshiumi perches on the bench in a fetal crouch, his gaze locked onto the volley. “Anything you do is considered degenerate.”
“What the f—”
Iwaizumi whoops as Suna’s neatly placed set meets his hand and the ball slams down on the court, just shy of Hinata and Hyakuzawa’s attempted receives.
“Iwaizumi-san!” Hinata yells at the same time Bokuto cuts in with, “There’s no way you’re outta practice!”
Iwaizumi high fives Suna and Yaku on his side, his grin wide and bright and the remaining members of the national team look at each other in silent agreement.
Once an ace, always an ace.
“I don’t think I ever could’ve played him in high school,” Atsumu remarks wistfully. Tobio blinks at his fellow setter and Atsumu catches his gaze, winking. “I would’ve been way too distracted by those thighs.”
Ushijima nods sagely. “Those matches against Seijoh were truly the most difficult of my life.”
“Not to mention when he gets super focused on winning,” Komori joins in, slinging an arm around Hoshiumi, who nods rapidly. “When his eyes scrunch up and he stares at you from across the court with that look…”
Tobio thinks back to high school, when Iwaizumi spiked from Oikawa’s super-long, across the court set-up. He thinks about those thighs, the way he tensed up and sprung to the skies and the way his ass had plumped out—
Lord. He shifts his sitting position and tries really hard to not think about Iwaizumi spiking, which is shockingly difficult to do when the man himself is playing a three on three match in front of you. He hopes no one else notices, but unfortunately for him, he never really gets what he wants in these kinds of situations.
Without hesitation, Sakusa says, “If you need to take care of yourself, we’ll just tell Iwaizumi-san you went to the restroom, Kageyama-kun.”
Tobio buries his face into his hands. The others laugh quietly nearby and he only peeks out of his hands when he feels someone touch his shoulder.
“Y’know, if you need a restroom break, I also got something to take care of. It’ll look less suspicious if two guys go to the restroom together,” Hoshiumi deadpans, completely straight-faced.
Sakusa snorts loudly, Atsumu chokes on his spit, and Komori ducks his head. Only Ushijima remains as impassive as ever.
Tobio thinks about it and he gives Hoshiumi the slightest of nods. “After the three on three finishes.”
Hoshiumi grins and everyone’s attention turns back to the three on three (read: Iwaizumi Hajime).
—
On the other side of the world, Oikawa Tooru lies back in bed, scrolling through the media tab on his very private, very secret Iwaizumi Hajime fan account with over fifteen thousand followers.
He slides open his keyboard to send a brief tweet.
“...And attach photo—! Send!” he hums as he taps the ‘post’ button.
@iwaizumisleftthigh
It’s been a hard day.
> 2938.PNG
> 4539.PNG
[ Attached image: A doubleset of images depicting Iwaizumi Hajime (27m)’s thighs. ]
Tooru double taps his own post, sighing as he zooms in on the veiny flex of his old partner’s thighs and how thick they were in those little shorts.
God is real, Tooru thinks. God is real, and he made their high school uniform shorts as short and tight as possible on Iwaizumi Hajime.
The notification bell dings with five new notifications and he taps at it, expecting to see the icons of random fans, but instead—
@ninjashou has liked your post.
@heykou has liked your post.
@sunarin has liked your post.
@nekoyaku has liked your post.
@mthyakuzawa has liked your post.
Oikawa doesn’t stop the laughter that bubbles out of his stomach. He doesn’t stop laughing for a long, long time.