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“Iwa-chan.”
“…”
“Iwa- chaaaaan,” Tooru drawled. Iwaizumi’s brow twitched, the only indication he offered to acknowledge Oikawa’s whining.
“I-W-A CHAAAAAAN!” Tooru howled helplessly.
“Tch,” Iwaizumi responded, casting Oikawa a dismissive side-glance. They were walking down a brightly lit aisle of the supermarket, Hajime pushing their cart while Tooru dragged himself along behind. He draped his lanky arms over Hajime’s shoulders, tucking his head into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck in an attempt to sway his boyfriend’s disapproval.
“But Iwa-chan, we’re about to run out of milk bread !” Tooru cried. Iwaizumi knew that on “Oikawa Tooru’s List of Things that Should Never Happen,” running out of milk bread was an injustice too malicious for the setter’s fragile heart to bear. The sweet, soft caress which met Oikawa’s lips as he nibbled on the delicacy was too precious to dare threaten a possibility without it. Morsels of milk bread would dance across his tongue, hopping joyfully from one taste bud to the next as the lightness of their flavor blossomed in a sweet euphoria. Fear coursed through Iwaizumi like ice water. How could he stand between the precious setter and his milk bread?
Iwaizumi halted for a split second before reason came flooding back to him. His brows furrowed agonizingly as he scolded Tooru, “Dumbass, we have five bags left at home. You don’t need anymore.”
Oikawa froze mid-step, his arms slinking off of Iwaizumi’s broad shoulders. He slumped, head drooping dejectedly toward the floor. Soft curls poomfed sadly against his pale brow, lackluster in the face of Iwaizumi’s rejection. Hajime turned toward his four-year-old of a boyfriend, promptly whacking him behind the head.
“Oof!” Oikawa huffed. He shot his gaze fiercely in Iwaizumi’s direction, expecting the harsh scowl which normally accompanied such an offence. But, his vision was being blocked? By a blue bag??? A blue bag which said-
“MILK BREAD?! IWA-CHAN!!!” Oikawa squealed. He grabbed at the prize in Iwaizumi’s hands, but Iwa-chan snatched it away! Tooru stopped himself once again, glancing suspiciously at his ace.
“See this?” Iwaizumi wagged the bag in Oikawa’s face, watching Tooru’s eyes swing dazedly back and forth. “We have five bags of this at home, Shittykawa,” he rolled his eyes pointedly. “You don’t need anymore for now, but I promise when we get down to two bags I’ll buy you some more.”
“Oh, Iwa-chan!” Tooru gasped dramatically, swooping his arm across his forehead to cover his eyes- and his blush- as he peeked at his bristly, perfect Iwa-chan. “You’re the best,” he smiled, bending down to peck Hajime lovingly on the cheek.
“It’s just milk bread- dumbass,” Iwaizumi stuttered, a blush of his own chasing up his neck and blazing across his cheeks as he stood, temporarily dazed, by his milk-bread obsessed boyfriend Oikawa Tooru.