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The birds coo in the bright morning, red pink light warming the room. The sound of trains whistling past, the clackity clack noise of the wheels moving across the tracks filled the room. They both wake so early, rising with the dawn and the birds and the sounds of trains, but today, Hinata is passed out cold, eyes shut softly and mouth agape. It makes Oikawa’s heart flutter, silly heart.
The sun rays push through the thin curtains, staining Hinata’s face with stripes of light, illuminating the glow of his skin. Oikawa sighs, because he is so beautiful; his face is slack and calm, and he is so still. Oikawa brushes a stray strand of hair away from his face, sighing inwardly at Hinata’s beauty.
Oikawa reaches down, tangles his fingers into Hinata's soft hair. His touch is tentative, as not to wake the sleeping boy. Hinata smells faintly of strawberries and vanilla, and the scent is so intoxicating that Oikawa can’t help but hum in contempt. Hinata unconsciously curls closer into his embrace, their legs tangling together. Oikawa pauses, holding his breath, expecting Hinata to wake. When the younger continues to sleep, his eyelids fluttering as he dreams, Oikawa smiles, and continues to comb his fingers through his hair.
And God, Hinata is beautiful, Oikawa thinks, because his slightly pouted lips are a indescribable shade of berry, and what Oikawa wouldn't give to lean down and kiss him awake. Instead, Oikawa settles for running his hands through the soft ginger hair on top of his head, relishing in the feeling between his fingers.
Oikawa catches the movement, the abnormal flutter of his eyelids, the sped up breaths. Hinata is awake, he realizes, but he chooses not to do anything, continuing to run his hands through the boys hair. Moving his other arm to wrap around Hinata’s small frame, Oikawa sips his arms around Hinata’s bare waist, sliding his other hand over the boy’s smooth skin.
Hinata sighs at the motion, opening his eyes slowly to look up at Oikawa. Brown eyes meet brown eyes and the elder smiles down, rubbing his hand on the small of Hinata’s back.
“I knew you were awake.” Oikawa says, pressing his forehead against Hinata’s.
Hinata pouts, snuggling closer. “Mm, that’s alright.” He says, a smile working it’s way onto his lips.
Oikawa sighed softly, leaning over to kiss him. The kiss is soft and tender, and the sun’s rays are dancing across their skin. Hinata tastes funny, but then again, Oikawa probably does too, so he pushes the thought aside as he swipes his tongue across the boy’s bottom lip and hums into the kiss.
It isn't lazy as much as it is soft and slow, there was no reason to rush. Oikawa continued to pet Hinata’s hair, rejoicing in the feeling under his finger tips. The other hand traced lazy circles on his abs, feeling the muscles resting under the skin.
Hinata sighs into the kiss, and Oikawa pushes lightly, moving so he could straddle Hinata’s small frame. Hinata smiled up at him, grin challenging the sun shining through their window. Oikawa leaned down and kissed the sun, letting his hands travel down his sides. Hinata giggled lightly at the teasing touch, wrapping his arms around Oikawa, grounding himself to the moment with every touch.
Oikawa broke away, Hinata chasing after the kiss for a moment before letting his head drop back onto the pillow with a soft foop.
“Good morning, Shouyou,” Oikawa said, tracing a hand up Hinata’s chest.
“Morning, Tooru,” Hinata replied with a smile, reaching a hand up and stroking his face.
Oikawa hummed, leaning forward and nuzzling his face into the crook of Hinata’s neck. He took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of strawberries and vanilla. Everything is subdued expect Hinata: the birds chirping and the distant ring of train tracks fades into the background, taking a backseat to the wonder that was Hinata sighing heavily with contempt as Oikawa presses lazy kisses to his neck. Oikawa runs his tongue over Hinata’s neck as he kisses, lingering in one spot for a moment or two before moving lower, dragging his lips to Hinata’s collarbone.
Hinata raised his arms, bringing them to tangle into Oikawa’s ashy brown hair. Oikawa hummed against Hinata’s collar as Hinata began to thread his fingers through his hair much like he had done earlier. It was a comforting motion, one that made his insides melt and made his heart stutter again, this time, he didn't even bother to tell it off.
And there wasn't anything the pair would trade for these moments spent basking in the sunlight, drinking in the scent and the presence of ginger hair or soft fingertips trailing across sculpted abdomens. The sun, pushing through the blinds and staining their skin with white light as the sunrise glowed, pink filling their room. Sheets, kicked off the bed, traded for toes pressing against another warm body instead.
It was soft and without purpose, blissfully torn away from reality, and Oikawa found himself willing away the world for another moment as he kissed lazily down Hinata’s stomach, relishing in the smaller boys hum of appreciation.
The world, the dawn, the train tracks and the birds could wait.