Chapter Text
Oikawa hasn’t been able to sit still for the entire service.
Iwaizumi could see him in his peripheral fidgeting:tapping his feet against the wooden floors of the chapel anxiously, swaying rhythmically to hymns, and chewing at his lip when he thought no one was looking.
He worried that Oikawa would bite his lip raw if he didn't stop soon. When he turned to face him, Iwaizumi could see harsh red blooming at the corners of his mouth. He wanted to walk over to Oikawa’s pew and lick it clean.
Oikawa felt his staring and offered a small smile in his direction, red lips tilted up at the corners ever so slightly. Iwaizumi matched his expression, even more subtly. If his mother noticed he was staring at Oikawa instead of listening to the sermon again she’d throw a fit. She recognized the way he looked at him. Iwaizumi was sure of it. But she never quite put a word to it, never yelled and screamed and cried like he thought she would. Instead, she frowned whenever Oikawa asked if he could sleep over, and spared the two of them agitated glances when they were caught being overly clingy at church gatherings. Last week, she had found the envelope hidden between the layers of his mattress. An inconspicuous thing, filled to the brim with photographs of partially nude men from sporting magazines, spandex and latex clinging to their bodies like ink. She ripped every page apart and tossed them all in the trash, purposefully leaving the scraps at the top of the bin to make a point. But she never said anything, and likely she never will. She must have thought disposing it all would somehow make him stop thinking of men in that way. Iwaizumi was still waiting to see when her strategy would work.
His mom cried a lot. Mostly because of him.
When his brain was too excited to sleep, often because he had stayed up late chatting with Oikawa through his bedroom window-- blushing and grinning to himself because Oikawa liked to pace when he talked, and in those sparse moments where the sharp angles of his back faced towards Iwaizumi, he could let out all his pent up affection and dopily smile to himself, cheeks warm-- Iwaizumi would go downstairs to get a glass of water. In order to get to the kitchen, he had to pass by his parents room, and some days he could hear his mothers desperate prayers and weeping, pleading for him to have a place in God's kingdom.
His father never heard because his father was never home. He was always off drinking late at night under the guise of staying back late for work. Iwaizumi didn’t mind, it meant that his father never had to know of his indecencies. He often had nightmares imagining what would happen if he did. It was best not to let them become reality. And besides, his mother preferred to pray in solitude.
Once again, his mother was kneeled in prayer, eyes closed gently and hands clasped together. Iwaizumi hurried to join her. He’d been so focused on Oikawa, those milky brown eyes and bruised lips, that he hadn’t even heard the beginning of the prayer.
From his knees he still stared, he couldn't help himself. He was surprised to see Oikawa staring back. That slight anxiousness from earlier back in his expression. Iwaizumi politely waved before facing his head to the floor. He wanted to at least try to be respectful during service, but Oikawa was making it increasingly difficult. Iwaizumi could feel his eyes boring into the side of his skull.
He snapped around to face him again, giving him a pointed glare. They’d both be in trouble if anyone found out they weren't paying attention to the sermon. While everyone else gathered and gossiped after service, Sister Emi would pull them aside again and have them reread the whole passage before scolding them for their indiscipline. “God is always attentive to your needs,” She would say, “More than being rude, it's ungrateful to not be attentive to him as well”.
Oikawa still didn't turn away, instead offering him a wide toothy grin. Despite himself, Iwaizumi smiled back. He couldn't help it when Oikawa looked at him like that. Iwaizumi suddenly frowned deeply, making a silly face, just to see that smile again. Oikawa had to use his hands to muffle his laughter. Iwaizumi wondered if his lips would leave them covered in faint streaks of blood.
After composing himself, Oikawa removed his hand from his mouth and pointed it towards the window. Iwaizumi made a show of squinting through the stained glass, but he already knew where he was pointing.
The broken truck by the junkyard.
It was their special place. A hideaway far from the rest of the town where they snuck off to when things began to feel like too much. All one of them had to do was point, and the other knew where to go. To that special spot on the edge of the horizon and the beginning of nowhere where nothing mattered anymore. A place where Iwaizumi could stare at Oikawa unabashedly, free from his mothers lingering presence. Where he could hold his friend close and soothe his cries after their classmates spent the day beating them out of him. Where Oikawa would hold him back, and let Iwaizumi run his fingers through his hair.
It was his favorite place in the whole world.
But if Oikawa wanted to go, that meant something was bothering him. Which would explain why he was being so damn fidgety. If he just wanted to hang out or talk, Oikawa could've just pulled him aside after service or spent the morning throwing stones at his window so they could use their string telephone through it. Going to the junkyard was serious. It meant that something was bothering Oikawa and he needed to run off or else he was going to burst. It meant Iwaizumi was so angry he needed to punch, kick, and scream; or maybe just muffle his cries into his friend's shirt before settling down to watch the stars with him, making up imaginary constellations and myths about them.
Iwaizumi gave him a thumbs up before bowing his head and shutting his eyes. Not only would Sister Emi lecture him if he was caught, but his father would likely beat him too.
…
Oikawa was probably already at the truck waiting for him.
Unlike Iwaizumi’s parents, Oikawa’s were not members of the chamber choir and didn't need to stay behind after service. Iwaizumi didn't understand why his mother forced him too stay behind with her, but it wasn’t wise to argue.
His heart pressed softly against his ribs, fluttering. To get from the church to the junkyard was an uphill climb, and Iwaizumi had decided to run. He never liked to leave his best friend waiting. And clearly, he had something important to tell him.
After a while, he was nearing the junkyard. A glimmering field of rainbow. Scrapped cars, cracked boats, scrap metals, and rusty engines creating a vibrant array of color. Iwaizumi never thought that trash could be so beautiful until they discovered this place; a place between the known and unknown, the field between their town and the next. Iwaizumi didn't know much about the neighboring town they shared the junkyard with because they weren't allowed to go. No one ever got to leave. But sometimes, in a dreamy haze, Iwaizumi would allow his mind to wander. What was life like on the other side? He imagined it would be better. Often, Oikawa fueled those fantasies, making up stories about the city and its people. They were obviously fake, exaggerated fantasies about a high tech city where animals could talk, and aliens lived in harmony with humans. There was no church, or scratchy school uniforms, or bullies to call Oikawa names and make fun of the way he walked, talked, and dressed when he wasn't in uniform, no boys to laugh at him for taking so much care in his appearance, no mothers to shout at him for steeling their makeup, no coaches to yell when he was late to practice, and definitely not any swollen knees. Iwaizumi thought the world through Oikawa’s rose tinted glasses was beautiful, and sometimes he dreamt of running away to this fantasy world with him.
In the city next door, they could be together. Play volleyball late into the night and then collapse on top of each other beneath the twinkling stars when they were done. Oikawa could gel his hair, and wear all the makeup he likes, and Iwaizumi would smile and call him beautiful. He’d kiss him too, just as he’s always wanted to. They would make it to nationals, and Oikawa would get scouted by a great university, and once he graduated he’d play for Japan's national team and win five Olympic gold medals before settling back down with Iwaizumi in a cottage at the edge of the city-- maybe even one close to the junkyard, teetering on the edge. And Iwaizumi would be ready, waiting for him when he got home everyday, prepared for when he wanted to retire. Maybe he’d get a job of his own, something in medicine or art, not engineering like his father wanted him to. Or maybe he’d just live off his husbands money-- that would be nice too.
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called out from behind a truck, spooking him out of his trance. Iwaizumi flinched, so subtly that most people wouldn't be able to notice the movement, but Oikawa caught it, and he laughed. “What’s the matter, scared?”
Oikawa did scare him. He was so lost in thought that he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going, body moving on autopilot like their meeting place was a pinned location on his internal GPS. “Of course not, you just caught me off guard.”
“You were definitely scared. You even did that thing with your eyebrows.”
“What thing?” Iwaizumi shrugged off his suit jacket and collapsed onto the ground. It had been a long day.
“It’s a secret!" Oikawa giggled, squatting down next to him-- still fidgety. “If I point it out you're going to get all self conscious again and stop doing it.”
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “So why did you want to come here anyways. Did something happen? Was it your mom?”
“Nope. I actually have good news! Why do you always assume the worst Iwa-chan? You’re such a grouch.”
Iwaizumi smacked him on the shoulder. “I’m not a grouch.You looked like you were trying to hold in acidic shit and failing badly all morning.” Oikawa shrugged and curled his knees up to his chest. “So, are you going to spit it out?”
“I’m not sure if I want to tell you anymore, you haven't been very nice Iwa-chan. You should always be kind to those younger than you to teach them good morals, that's what pastor Okada said this morning!” Iwaizumi was surprised Oikawa could remember anything from service with how distracted he looked.
Iwaizumi hit him again, harder this time. “Okay fine, fine I’ll tell you! You see I…” Oikawa tilted his face towards him. From this angle, their faces were now barely an inch apart. His soft eyes were opened wide and his lips turned up in a shy smile. He looked excited, a twinkle present in his eyes that wasn't there before. Yet somehow also sad. Scared too. As if he was worried how Iwaizumi may react, or ashamed to even tell him at all.
“I got a girlfriend!” Oikawa’s smile widened, shakenly. “Or I guess to be more exact, a girl asked me out last night. She ambushed me after practice yesterday and asked me to date her. It was all so shocking I wasn't able to give her a real answer; but the cookies she made for me are really nice, so I think on today I’ll find her and say yes for real!”
The bile in his stomach bubbled up, boiling and popping in his esophagus as it flooded into his throat. Iwaizumi felt like throwing up. His stomach hurt. And somewhere in the back of his mind he felt like he wanted to cry. Or scream. If he screamed the bile would poor out, and it would spill on Oikawa’s lap and his pretty face. He would be disgusted, maybe even push him away and scream, an then Iwaizumi would really feel like crying--and he probably would. And when Oikawa runs away from the junkyard to go tell everyone in the town that his best friend was a disgusting, jealous, queer who was mad at him for getting a girlfriend, Iwaizumi would punch and scream and cry, and it would be embarrassing even though no one would be there to see.
“Whats with that face Iwa-chan?” Oikawa said after a moment of silence.
Iwaizumi didn't want to imagine what his face was like. He knew it was probably something ugly, unsightly, that would make Oikawa uncomfortable and his older sister pretend to gag as she took photos of him.
“Nothing.” He grunted.
“It’s obviously not nothing. You look like you want to hit something- and it better not be me.” Oikawa scooted away slightly and Iwaizumi had to fight the urge to chase after him and box him into a corner. “What? Are you jealous or something?”
More than jealous he was mad. Angry at himself for having to leave practice early that day to study. He should've done it during class. If so, that girl wouldn't have interrupted Oikawa on the way home.
“No, why would I be jealous? I’m happy for you. Maybe that will finally shut those guys up.” Iwaizumi was not happy at all, and it sickened him. But no matter his attraction, Oikawa was his best friend. “What’s her name?”
“Himari!” Oikawa paused, thoughtful, “Himari Kobayashi. I just realized you probably wouldn't know her first name, or her name at all really. To be honest, I didn't know it either until yesterday, but she told me I should start using her first name from now on because she likes the way I say it.”
“Himari…” Iwaizumi could not pin a face to the name at all. She was most likely in their grade. It'd be weird if Oikawa wanted to date a younger girl.
“Yes, Himari!” Oikawa sounded her name out, smiling at the way it rolled off his tongue. “I think its a beautiful name. It means sunflower Iwa-chan! I love sunflowers.” Iwaizumi knew that was a lie. Oikawa didn't care for flowers at all.
“What class is she in?”
“Well technically, she’s not in a class at our school. She came from Tokyo to intern at Mr. Nagaski’s vet office!”
“Oikawa…” Iwaizumi frowned.
“Yes Iwa-chan?”
“How old is she?”
“Twenty-one.” Oikawa whispered under his breath. He blinked, once, twice, waiting for Iwaizumi’s response.
“Twenty-one?” Iwaizumi exhaled, indignant.
“Yes Iwa-chan. Himari Kobayashi is twenty-one and studying veterinary sciences. She’s been watching our games and thinks my serves are nice, and she called me handsome, so I think I’m going to date her.” Oikawa declared, eyes starry.
Iwaizumi held his breath, but he wanted to scream. It wasn't fair. He complimented Oikawa’s playing all the time, said he looked nice and congratulated him. He always tried to be there when he needed him, and he loved him. But he would date Himari just because she was the first girl who asked him out. It wasn’t fair.
“Are you sure she’s not a pedophile?” The comment made Oikawa’s smile waver. Iwaizumi switched gears. “Or maybe she’s like a villain in those comics that Hanamaki reads and she wants to get closer to you in order to absorb your volleyball powers and spread them across all of Tokyo.” At that, Oikawa laughed. But is was soft and quiet, deflated.
“Some players definitely need it. I swear, half the guys in the prefecture can't serve at all.”
“That’s a little unfair don't you think? No one can serve like you. Not even Ushijima.”
“Definitely not stupid Ushi-waka.” Oikawa scooted back over, and Iwaizumi could feel his heart rate even out. “But seriously Iwa-chan, she’s not preying on me or anything. Plus, she’s not that old.”
“She is really old. Way too old for you. If your parents found out they’d kill you. Hell, even I kinda feel like killing you right now. But, if you really think she’ll make you happy, then fine, date her.” Iwaizumi sighed, arching into the hot steel of the car. It was warm out, the sun making the air around them wavy with heat. His back burned so much it overpowered his stomach ache. There was really no point in arguing, Oikawa was never one to change his mind so easily.
“Himari’s pretty, and she’s smart and mature…” Oikawa trailed off, biting his lips. “And I know she’ll make me happy. Maybe not immediately, but soon. When she goes back to Tokyo, she said I can go with her. Wouldn't that be lovely Iwa-chan? My very own apartment in Tokyo! I’ll play for a school in the city, a good one, before getting a scholarship to play for the national team. Then, with all the extra money I’ll make from winning, I can bring you to the city with us!”
Iwaizumi wanted to laugh, or cry, or maybe both. Either way he’d look like a fool, so instead he sighed instead, melting further into the hot metal.
What a stupid idea.
Oikawa had to be stupid if he believed he could run away with a college student to Tokyo. How would that even work? He’d need a place to stay, and Iwaizumi doubted that that Himari girl would let him live at her place for free. Taking care of Oikawa was expensive: he needed his special moisturizers and warm fuzzy sweaters or he’d whine for hours. He needed those overpriced medications for his messed up knee, and dozens of Epi-pens because God had the gall to make his best friend born with a severe allergy to one of the most common ingredients in Japanese cuisine, beans. Oikawa also needed help with his math homework, and someone to tutor in science even if they didn't really need the help so he wouldn't feel like a complete idiot afterwards. He needed someone to hit him when he ran his mouth at the guys in other sports before they had the chance to do it for him. Oikawa had to live with someone who could stay awake for an entire 80’s movie marathon without getting bored or falling asleep, and Iwaizumi knew he couldn't live without someone listening to his creepy fantasies about spiking bowling balls into the noses of all his rivals.
Himari Kobayashi was obviously not that person, so Oikawa couldn't stay in Tokyo with her.
And even if she was, how would Oikawa even manage to leave town? He wasn't eighteen yet, so Himari dragging him halfway across the country would definitely count as kidnapping if his parents cared to file a report-- which they definitely would. Then there was the money again. Oikawa’s never had a job, and he’s never bothered to save up any of his allowance. Himari would probably kick him to the curb the second she found out. Or maybe she’d keep him for longer than that to exploit him in some kind of way to make him pay for his new lifestyle. She could force him to be a live-in maid and clean her dingy apartment, or even worse, sell out his body on those creepy forums Matsukawa told them about. When he finally got kicked out and came home crying, Iwaizumi doubted life would ever be the same for him. People look at you differently when you leave. Neighbors are repulsed by you for wanting to abandon your seemingly perfect and pure life. Friends and family start to avoid you, scared they’ll get sent to hell for interacting to much with a sinner like you. Because that's what you are, a sinner, and the whole town treats it like it's some contagious disease. So when you get depressed and hang yourself like Sara Rikutani did when she came back, no one even bats an eye. After all, it’s your fault. Why did you betray the Lord by wanting to mingle with the sinners in other towns? Everything you need is right here.
You had to have a lot of courage to leave, because leaving meant abandoning everything you ever had before. You can never come back, because when you do you’ll be treated like you were never there at all. Iwaizumi wasn't sure he was brave enough to become so isolated. He doubted Oikawa was either.
“I’m glad you won't forget me when you're off and married in the city,” Iwaizumi hauled himself up.
“How could I? I don't think I could last even a year without you.” Oikawa smiled and Iwaizumi struggled to hide the flush in his cheeks. “Although it's probably going to take a while for me to raise enough money to have you be with me. I heard rent in Tokyo is really awful.”
“Only because you have the shitiest work ethic I know.” Iwaizumi slapped his shoulder, but not harshly, affectionately.
“I have a great work ethic!” Oikawa pouted and whined in defense. His face looked stupid. Iwaizumi hit him again. This time, Oikawa made an attempt to fight back, wiggling around and dodging his oncoming attacks.
Iwaizumi switched tactics, and he could hear the tipping point where Oikawa’s yelps and screams transformed into giggles and breathless gasps. He was ticklish all over. Head to toe his skin was sensitive to the touch. They would always tickle each other when they were younger, before Iwaizumi started to hit instead. Sometimes at night he wondered if Oikawa was sensitive even in the places he has never had a chance to explore yet; if his insides were ticklish too. Would his tongue giggle and flinch along with his body if they kissed? Was his blood electric and bubbly when it poured out of him?
Iwaizumi thought back to his reddened lips.
“Is that really all you had to tell me?” He let Oikawa go. His hands ached to return to the warm plane of his stomach. “You were biting your lips all service. You only do that when something's bothering you. What's bothering you?”
Oikawa caught his breath, gasping, face flush with laughter and embarrassment. “I-” he hiccuped, voice stuttering, “I have a big favor to ask. Really big. But I thought about it some more and… I guess I’m just worried you’ll say no. Or make fun of me. That's always a possibility.”
Iwaizumi wondered if it was even possible to ever say no to him. “You’re rambling. Just tell me what it is already.”
Oikawa fiddled with his thumbs, licking at the scabs forming at his lips. “Well I’m sure you already know, but I’ve never had a girlfriend. I don’t know a single thing about romance or intimacy outside of movies. But Himari knows everything. She's older, and has had dozens of boyfriends before me. I’m scared she won't like me anymore once she realizes how bad at everything I am. And so…”
“So?”
“I was wondering if you could help teach me some things. Or practice I guess, because you’ve dated a girl before."
“You sound stupid when you try to use big words. But okay, fine, what do you want me to teach you anyways?”
Oikawa began to eat at his lips again. Iwaizumi watched his teeth work. His incisors were sharp, pointed like stones, nervously eroding his skin away. “Stop that.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Okay,” Oikawa wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “I want you to teach me how to kiss someone.”
“It’s easy. You just…” Iwaizumi struggled to find the right words, voice swampy in his throat. If he taught Oikawa how to kiss someone, then he was sure to use his new skill on Himari the first chance he got. Iwaizumi hated that. No one deserved his friend like that other than his family-- and of course himself. “You just press your lips against each other. Easy.”
“Could you show me?” Oikawa blinked, that same soft shyness returning to his face.
Iwaizumi folded his hands into the shape of a snake and pressed his lips to them; peppering soft kisses across the tips of his fingers. When he looked up, Oikawa was watching intently, mouth agape.
Iwaizumi dove in again, this time fully connecting his lips with his hands. Oikawa’s breath hitched, spurring him on further. He was fully committed now, offering his hands open mouthed kisses, trailing his tongue across the edges of his fingers. Saliva trickled down his arms, cold against the spring heat. Oikawa’s eyes followed it down, adverting his eyes whenever Iwaizumi made contact with them.
Iwaizumi felt dirty, but he couldn’t stop, not with Oikawa looking at him like that. His eyes were hazy, blurred at the edges as he stared, cheeks rosy.
Oikawa whispered softly, so quiet it was barely audible.
“What did you say?” Iwaizumi spoke into the silence. He wiped his hands along his pants. Dirty. He’d have to throw them into the wash before his mother could see the stains.
Oikawa’s lips were a dark, cherry red and his cheeks were almost the same shade. “You’re an idiot Iwa-chan, I didn’t want you to do that.”
“Oh.” How embarrassing. His face felt warm. “Okay, so what do you want?”
“I thought you were going to kiss me.”
Iwaizumi’s mouth suddenly felt very dry.
“I mean you don’t have to of course! I’m being kind of silly aren’t I? There’s probably a YouTube video or a website somewhere that will tell me what to do. Maybe? No definitely. The internet is an amazing thing Iwa-chan!” Oikawa talked fast, wiggling and rocking as he spoke, “I just thought it would be better to experience it myself before I go see Himari. But now I’m starting to think this was a bad idea and I should've just checked the great wide web. That’s what Mr. Tokino always says when we have problems doesn't he? Because it’s weird to want to kiss your best friend isn't it?” Oikawa was out of breath by the time Iwaizumi cut him off.
“You’re rambling Tooru.”
Oikawa nodded, exhaling.
“Come here.” Iwaizumi’s voice felt like gravel tumbling out of his mouth. Oikawa looked around nervously, eyes darting around the junkyard in a frenzy. “Tooru, no one else is here. It’s just the two of us.”
At that, Oikawa finally leaned in for Iwaizumi to kiss him.
It was hardly a kiss at all. Kissing Oikawa was like making out with a marble statue. Oikawa didn’t move, or open his mouth at all; his lips remained in a straight line, turning up slightly when Iwaizumi grabbed him by the waist and pulled him closer. His lips were rough and chapped, contrary to how soft and full they usually were. Oikawa had been chewing like a madman all morning. His mouth tasted of iron, metallic and saccharine. Iwaizumi could feel the caked up blood dissolving against his tongue. Oikawa made him voracious. He wondered if he would ever be able to move on with his life after knowing what kissing Oikawa feels like. The sensation was addicting.
Oikawa is the one who separates them. Face painted in surprise with cardinal red cheeks and wet lips. Iwaizumi’s breath catches when he realizes that it’s his saliva that covers his mouth. Oikawa looks debauched, covered in his essence.
“Wow.” Oikawa breathes out. His voice is hoarse, just like it is after a game. “I didn't think you’d be that good at that. Iwa-chan, are you hiding something from me? It looks like you have way more experience with this than you've let on.”
Iwaizumi shrugged. “And it’s obvious you have none.”
“Hey! That’s rude Iwa-chan.” Oikawa pouts. Iwaizumi has to fight the urge to lean in for another kiss.
“What? I’m telling the truth.” He smiles at how the comment makes Oikawa’s eyebrows furrow. “Ephesians 4:25” he adds for emphasis, relishing in the way Oikawa’s pout deepens.