Work Text:
Iwaizumi’s back in Tokyo after a a few, albeit long years. For work, of course; there’s no other reason that’d bring him back to this busy city. It was as humid and full of people as he remembered, and he missed home back in Miyagi more than ever.
Without thinking, his legs carry him out of the airport, across street after street, pass several familiar landmarks, stores that still make his eyes burn a little, and a final turn into a quiet backstreet. The image in his mind was vivid; a small bookstore, the friendly old lady who’d greet them with a smile, them browsing through the Kids section for books on aliens and dinosaurs.
What Iwaizumi sees is, instead, a small, homey looking cafe. The way it’s designed reminded him of home, and he feels himself drawn to it. His eyes wander to the top, where a large board reads “Out of the World Cafe”, and he manages a scoff. Out of the world, my ass. Still, it wasn’t like he had work to do till next week, so he can let himself enjoy a frappe before heading to the hotel. With such simple thoughts, he headed towards the cafe that would shake his world for the second time. And boy, did it shake.
It was the voice first; it always was. It never failed to make Iwaizumi want to stand a little taller, stick out his chin a little more, take longer strides so he can reach the owner of it just a little faster. Today it makes him shiver, makes all his hair stand, makes his heart thump, makes his eyes go wide in recognition as he comes into view.
There, in the cafe, on the other side of the counter, he stood, looking up from a petite woman with red lips to greet Iwaizumi.
“Welcome to Out of the World Cafe. What may I...” And Iwaizumi sees the exact moment those chocolate brown eyes widen, the way his shoulders tense just slightly, the way his smile freezes like the whole world stopped.
Suddenly, the name of the cafe made perfect sense.
Suddenly, it was that day all over again.
They stay like for a moment, thoughts whirling. Iwaizumi’s thoughts whirling, anyway. So much’s running through his mind that nothing’s getting through it. It’s like he has so much to think about that his brain’s short circuiting, and he’s in fact not thinking at all.
Then Oikawa Tooru breaks into a fake grin. He knows it, he fucking knows it, and he knows Oikawa knows he knows. A formal bow, a gesture to the window seat. Iwaizumi’s favourite spot in any cafe. “Why don’t you have a seat, sir?”
Oikawa-piece-of-shit-Tooru.
“I’ll have your double chocolate frappe with extra cream served in a moment.” Iwaizumi’s favourite drink, his sweet tooth few knows of and only one who understands.
Oikawa-piece-of-shit-Tooru.
Iwaizumi has so much to say, too much on his mind to do so, and he nods his way to his favourite spot in the corner of the cafe and sets his luggage beside a chair before taking slow steps back towards the counter, watching intently as the man he loves makes him his favourite drink. The same hair he was so used to ruffling is now long enough that the ends are nestling in his corner, his features sharper, shoulders wider, neck lean and Iwaizumi curses inwardly as he recalls the moment he sunk his teeth into them oh so many nights ago.
He notices belatedly the music playing from speakers he didn’t care were placed where -- good old Joe Hisaishi compositions. Their favourite music.
Iwaizumi’s definitely going to hell for getting a hard-on in a situation like this.
His voice bright and his smile matching, Oikawa sets his drink on the collection area without so much as a glance in Iwaizumi’s direction. “Your frappe, sir.”
Iwaizumi grabs him by the wrist before he can turn away. “Sit with me.”
Still smiling, Oikawa pries each finger away, voice still chirpy but undertone keep-your-fucking-hands-off-me. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m at work. I can’t do that.”
“Then I’ll wait for you.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Seeing Oikawa again, just those few minutes were enough; Iwaizumi just knows he can’t afford to let this man out of his life ever again. He’ll win Oikawa back if his life depended on it.