Chapter Text
“Well, it seems to me that the best relationships
–the ones that last– are frequently the ones that
are rooted in friendship. You know, one day you
look at the person and you see something more
than you did the night before. Like a switch has
been flicked somewhere. And the person who
was just a friend is... suddenly the only person
you can ever imagine with yourself.”
–Dana Scully, The X-Files
A warm, yet tickly sensation on Iwaizumi’s neck stirred him from his sleep. It took him a moment to recognise the familiar surroundings, and a little bit more to remember why he was in Oikawa’s bedroom, and not in his own. Somehow, it was easier to identify that the pleasant sensation that woke him was Oikawa’s steady breathing against the nape of his neck.
In his sleepy mind, Iwaizumi laughed at himself, because he would have never imagined Oikawa would be the bigger spoon in a relationship. He liked being cuddled by his best friend; Oikawa’s arms closed around his middle, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against Iwaizumi’s back, felt right. Not strange or new… it felt familiar, as if they had slept this way before, like their bodies effortlessly moulded around each other, already aware of their lifetime-forged intimacy.
Iwaizumi put his hands over Oikawa’s, lacing their fingers together, closing the other’s arms further over his middle. Oikawa, still asleep, grumbled against Iwaizumi’s ear and pressed himself impossibly closer, snuggling his face into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck.
We’re okay, Iwaizumi thought.
They would probably always be okay; that’s how it had been since Iwaizumi was able to remember, that was the only way both knew how to be. That reassuring idea, along with Oikawa’s gentle breathing, lulled Iwaizumi into sleep again, but the treacherous fear of the impending future claimed his dreams.
~
Eighteen-year-old Iwaizumi gently put four-year-old Oikawa on the ground, just before the tree branch the boy had been dangerously balancing on gave in.
What the hell? Iwaizumi thought, looking down, Oikawa’s big, dreamy eyes staring right back up at him, expectant.
“Iwa-chan?” Young Oikawa tugged at Iwaizumi’s hand to break him out from his reverie. “Something’s wrong?”
“What are we doing here?” Iwaizumi asked, letting their hands fall apart, but what he really wanted to say was: You’re fucking four years old, dumbass, and you ask what’s wrong! Plus, a petty thought crossed his mind: You were so tiny back then, when the heck did you become the taller one?
Oikawa frowned and his trademark pout appeared. He took a few steps away from where they were and gestured, opening his arms while twirling. “Here?” Oikawa said, unamused. Then turned to look at Iwaizumi once more, extending his hand for Iwaizumi to take.
Not an offer, a demand –even at that young age Oikawa Tooru already knew what he wanted from Iwaizumi: ‘Take my hand, Iwa-chan.’ And Iwaizumi did; but before their hands clasped together the scenery changed and they were no longer in Iwaizumi’s backyard.
They were now in the infirmary of Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High. Oikawa remained four years old, and Iwaizumi had turned that age too. They sat on the exam table, their legs dangling and bumping each other from time to time, making Oikawa giggle, covering his mouth with his tiny hands.
Iwaizumi peered at Oikawa when he giggled again, a faint flush covering his chubby cheeks. Iwaizumi grinned right back at his friend. Abruptly, Oikawa took Iwaizumi’s hand and squeezed it, bringing his index finger to his lips.
“Shush,” Oikawa whispered and hopped down, tugging Iwaizumi along.
When Iwaizumi’s feet touched the floor, he was older again. That didn’t prevent the still young Oikawa from dragging him towards the infirmary’s door.
From the corner of his eye Iwaizumi saw two figures appear behind them, grabbing his attention, and stopping him dead in his tracks when he realised who they were.
Fourteen-year-old versions of him and Oikawa appeared, walking towards the exam table they’d been sitting on only moments ago. That Iwaizumi’s nose was bleeding and that Oikawa’s hands were hurt, but despite the bruises, Oikawa’s hand remained firmly clasped on Iwaizumi’s wrist, guiding him.
“Iwa-chan!” four-year-old Oikawa whispered, pulling impatiently at his hand. “Come on,” he added before walking away.
Iwaizumi followed. Oikawa’s small back to him, always ahead. Always leading the way.
Once they crossed through the infirmary door, they didn’t end up in Kitagawa Daiichi’s corridors as expected. Instead, Iwaizumi recognised the place as one of the several pictures Oikawa –older Oikawa– had shown to him… They weren’t in Japan anymore.
It was the Argentinian landscape.
They were standing on a viewing platform at the top of a tall monument. Far down below them, a huge Argentinian flag waved in the wind; to the right he could see a river Iwaizumi could never remember the name of, despite the many times Oikawa had told him he would take Iwaizumi there when he visited that city.
“What are you afraid of?”
Oikawa’s voice pulled him out from his thoughts. It was present, older, Oikawa and Iwaizumi was the small one now.
“Come, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa beckoned with his hands, moving closer to the railing. “Take a closer look! Isn’t it beautiful?”
Iwaizumi hesitated, his chest tightening at the sight. Oikawa looked overjoyed, his smile was carefree, honest, the brightest Iwaizumi had ever seen. The wind gently tousled his hair and the warm sunlight bathed Oikawa’s unusually tanned skin.
Oikawa was… beautiful.
“What are you afraid of?” Oikawa’s question repeated in Iwaizumi’s mind and the answer four-year-old Iwaizumi gave surprised even Iwaizumi. “I don’t want to hold you back.”
From his spot, Oikawa turned, frowning at Iwaizumi for an instant. Then his lips parted in a big smile and he laughed. Not cruelly; the sound warmed Iwaizumi’s heart. Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi’s hand, and looked into his eyes with clear intent.
The meaning behind Oikawa’s attitude was left unsaid. Sometimes, they didn’t need words. Oikawa meant Iwaizumi could never hold him back, but only push him forward.
Push them forward.
Still joined by the hand, Iwaizumi was pulled along as Oikawa took a step through the structure’s railings and into the air.
There wasn’t any free fall.
Instead, Iwaizumi was now sitting in a grandstand. Oikawa stood in the volleyball court along with five undefined figures.
Oikawa looked older, probably around his thirties. He stood proudly, clad in a light blue uniform, the number thirteen on his chest. It wasn’t a Seijoh or Kitagawa Daiichi uniform… yet Seijoh’s banner hung behind Oikawa’s back, imposing as ever: Rule the court.
Oikawa’s eyes found Iwaizumi and he waved his hand, smiling fondly at him.
A golden sparkle from the setter’s ring finger caught Iwaizumi’s attention. And he had the sudden urge to look down to his own hand, where he found a matching ring. When Iwaizumi looked up, he was no longer part of the audience. He was standing on the opposite side of the court, facing Oikawa, who now stood alone.
Iwaizumi tried to take a step closer but stopped when four-year-old Oikawa appeared beside Professional Volleyball Player Oikawa. Then Oikawa from the last year of Kitagawa Daiichi joined too.
No Present Oikawa in sight.
Four-year-old Oikawa was looking at Iwaizumi, moving his lips, but no sound came out. If Iwaizumi tried harder maybe he could have lip-read what the boy was saying, but a burning sensation on his hand distracted him.
Iwaizumi looked up, and Present, eighteen-year-old Oikawa was looking right back at him, with a peculiar gleam in his chocolate eyes.
“Hajime,” Oikawa said with so much affection, his voice inexplicably –impossibly, really– close to Iwaizumi’s ear.
~
Iwaizumi woke up with a jolt, heart beating erratically, and his breath laboured. His instant instinct to calm himself down was to extend his arm, reaching for Oikawa’s warmth, but the other side of the futon was cold. Clattering sounds came from somewhere downstairs… which, given Iwaizumi’s situation, could only mean Oikawa was making breakfast –or at least trying. That was shit, because Oikawa was a terrible cook; completely helpless in the kitchen.
Despite that truth, Iwaizumi couldn’t help the fond smile that formed on his lips from imagining what his friend might be up to –that image soothed him, his heart beating normally again, breath evening out. He sighed and laid back in the futon, looking up to Oikawa’s endless galaxy claiming the bedroom ceiling.
What are you afraid of? Iwaizumi replayed the dream, trying to understand its meaning. You know what scares you. Don’t act like you don’t.
Oikawa would leave after graduation. Iwaizumi himself would leave too. Where did that leave them? As usual, Oikawa had been right last night: Iwaizumi had been fucking late.
Another heavy sigh escaped Iwaizumi’s lips. There was nothing he could do to change the past, but he still had time, little as it might be, to make up for some of the things he hadn’t done right. Holding that thought in mind, Iwaizumi got up, taking a quick shower and brushing his teeth before going downstairs to meet Oikawa.
As he drew near the kitchen the strong, pleasant aroma of coffee reached his nose. He stopped in the archway, leaning against the frame, gazing at Oikawa. His friend was in his pyjamas, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the pan while humming his favourite song –unaware of Iwaizumi’s presence, definitely lost in thought and not really paying attention to the scrambled eggs he was preparing, well, burning.
The smell of burning eggs –that broke Iwaizumi out from his reverie.
“Hey!” Iwaizumi said and startled Oikawa. “You’re burning those,” he continued, turning down the heat and carefully taking the pan’s handle from Oikawa.
“Good morning to you too, Iwa-chan~” Oikawa purred, as he leaned into Iwaizumi’s side after chastely kissing his cheek. Oikawa cleared his throat, moving a step back, probably embarrassed at the domesticity of the gesture.
“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi’s blush matched Oikawa’s. “Everything alright?”
As if to gain some time, Oikawa poured them coffee, before saying, “What were you dreaming about last night?” Iwaizumi froze in his task of peeling the avocado. “You called my name and then you were crying–”
“I wasn’t–”
“Oh, but you were! I saw it,” Oikawa cut him off, annoyed at Iwaizumi’s blatant lie. Of course Oikawa could see right through him. “If you don’t really try, then we shouldn’t––”
Iwaizumi huffed, switched off the stove and turned to face Oikawa. He took another deep breath before gently cupping Oikawa’s cheeks. Oikawa was, again, right. If they were really doing this, Iwaizumi needed to improve his teaspoon of emotional range… Well, here it goes, he thought.
“I was–I–I am scared.” Iwaizumi bowed his head, but felt encouraged the moment Oikawa’s warm hands came to rest over his wrists. “We’re both leaving soon… and you…”
“Mmmh? Oikawa-san what?” Iwaizumi looked up; ready to snap at Oikawa’s typical third-person thing, but the unshed tears in Oikawa’s eyes placated Iwaizumi’s temper and he stayed silent. “You regret it took you so long to realise your feelings for me? You also worry about my professional career and how I might do something stupid because of our relationship, right, Iwa-chan?”
Smug bastard, Iwaizumi thought. Yet the knot in his throat agreed with Oikawa, so he nodded. They were really doing this, after all. Oikawa shook his head and slowly closed the small distance that separated them, resting their foreheads together, his hands fell, finding Iwaizumi’s waist, bringing them even closer.
“It feels like Iwa-chan lost his memory and doesn’t remember Oikawa-san at all,” Oikawa murmured, so soft that if Iwaizumi hadn’t been pressed against him, he wouldn’t have heard him. Oikawa nuzzled their noses together to finally whisper against Iwaizumi’s ear, “We only push each other forward, like we’ve been doing… You said it yourself, Hajime, nothing’s changed.”
Iwaizumi surged forward, wrapping himself around Oikawa as tight as he could.
Last night he hadn’t really thought about the future and the paths they’d already chosen. Yet Oikawa made it so easy to believe they could face anything coming their way, like they had been doing since they were little. Distance was scary, yes, but Iwaizumi trusted their friendship and the bond they had. Iwaizumi believed in Oikawa.
“I should be so mad at you,” Oikawa said as he clung to Iwaizumi just as tightly.
They stayed that way for a few moments. Until–
“But you, crying in Oikawa-san’s arms, overwhelmed by the love you harbour for him… is just–” Iwaizumi broke apart and pinched Oikawa’s cheek.
“Ouch, Iwa-chan!” he squeaked.
“Dumbass! We were having a moment.” Iwaizumi returned his attention to the cooking, smashing the avocado.
Oikawa stood by his side, watching him prepare breakfast, until after some thinking he spoke again, annoyed. “What if Iwa-chan finds someone prettier than me?”
By the tone in Oikawa’s voice Iwaizumi didn’t need to turn around to know his friend was pretending to be annoyed; arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown and wearing that trademark pout Oikawa used because he knew Iwaizumi would agree to whatever was asked of him. Just like when they were kids.
It was a stupid question, really. Despite having had a girlfriend, flings, and a fuck-buddy, Iwaizumi’s eyes had –apparently– always been on Oikawa. He was not stupid though; he couldn’t assure Oikawa it wouldn’t happen, because it could. But why would Iwaizumi worry when the present seemed so right? He huffed and, for the second time that morning stopped his cooking and turned towards Oikawa, cupping Oikawa’s cheeks in his hands.
“What if you find someone prettier, huh?”
“Pfft… Iwa-chan has no match!” Oikawa sputtered as Iwaizumi squished his cheeks, stubbornly holding that childish pout.
Iwaizumi laughed, open and loud and when he leaned in to kiss Oikawa’s lips it didn’t feel strange, yet Oikawa froze in place, and when they separated his face was bright red.
“Smooth Iwa-chan!!!!”
“Oh, shut up.” Iwaizumi’s face burned too. “And let me finish breakfast. I’m hungry.”
...
After having breakfast, they washed the dishes and tried to restore the Oikawas’ spotless kitchen. Now Iwaizumi and Oikawa sat on the living room sofa… well, they weren’t actually doing anything resembling sitting. Iwaizumi was lying on the couch, propped up on the armrest, while Oikawa laid half on top of him. Iwaizumi had complained, but in the end ended up letting it go.
“So… tell me, really, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Oikawa asked, voice low, gentle, as his hands gently traced Iwaizumi’s jawline, then the hem of his shirt. “Were you scared?”
“If I’m entirely honest... I was pretty much clueless about it.”
“Denial then.”
“Kyoutani pointed it out, Mattsun and Makki already knew too…”
“Mad-dog-chan?!”
“But you know… I guess I was scared and that made me just… look the other way, probably,” Iwaizumi admitted, although he wasn’t entirely sure himself. “I mean– you were–you are my best friend, but I also like you romantically. We’ve been together since forever... I didn’t–I am still afraid of screwing us up because of the romantic love department.”
Oikawa hummed, resting his ear over Iwaizumi’s chest, as if the rhythm of Iwaizumi’s heart beating relaxed him. “It’s scary, yeah. Iwa-chan…?” Oikawa spaced out. “I never told you, but… I’ve lived with that feeling since I accepted my feelings for you.” Oikawa stopped again, but Iwaizumi knew he was deciding whether to say –or not– the next thing… “Sometimes I wished I hadn’t met you.”
“Don’t say that–”
“It’s true though.”
Iwaizumi felt his heart shrink at Oikawa’s words. It was truly impossible for him to imagine a world without Oikawa and not really just that. Iwaizumi couldn’t imagine his life without Oikawa in it.
“Even after I confessed I was so scared… but relieved at the same time. Weird, isn’t?” Oikawa scrunched up his nose a little and if it wasn’t for the raw truth he was speaking, Iwaizumi would totally cuddle him to death over the cuteness. “E-even if you rejected me... I–I was free.”
“I would never–”
Oikawa lips twisted in that particular grimace Iwaizumi usually hated… because even though Oikawa didn’t use words, the gesture said: You know I’m right.
“But you did, reject me.”
“I didn’t reject you, I would never–”
“Okay, fair. You rejected only my confession but I didn’t know. I wanted to believe you never would… but I didn’t know. Not for certain. Not until I actually told you.”
Iwaizumi gently lifted Oikawa’s chin with delicate fingers, meeting Oikawa eyes to make his point. “Tooru, I’m really sorry for making you feel that way…” There were so many things Iwaizumi wanted to apologise for. Let’s fucking start, he thought. “I’m sorry about Sofia.” His voice cracked a little. “The second Sofia… if I knew–I mean, I knew– but I didn’t think–– I didn’t mean––I’d never have–” Iwaizumi was lost for words and tears were threatening to fall… Ah well, that was really a shitty start. “I’m so sorry.”
“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa moved upwards, a warm smile on his lips. “I promise you it’s really okay. I tease you, but I’m not angry… not really, even though I want to be, I can’t. Let’s just move on.” He gently traced Iwaizumi’s features, before giving Iwaizumi a soft kiss. “Besides… It was not your fault... you can’t take the blame I fell for you. Even though you didn’t feel the same back then, I was glad you didn’t hate me.”
How could Iwaizumi hate Oikawa for loving him? It was not as if Oikawa had started doing something different, even though apparently he thought he had.
Oikawa loved Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi loved Oikawa, they had been that way since Iwaizumi had been able to grasp the notion of what love was. How could Oikawa think Iwaizumi could push him away for confessing? Where did Iwaizumi go wrong for that doubt to appear in Oikawa’s mind?
Iwaizumi’s eyes filled up with tears and he hugged Oikawa tight to his chest as he whispered, like a mantra, “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”
…
It was about mid-morning when Oikawa moved to prepare Argentinian mate. In Oikawa’s own words Iwaizumi needed to warm up to the national beverage before visiting him in Argentina. They had changed positions now, Iwaizumi sitting up properly on the couch, feet up on the coffee table; Oikawa lay on the couch, Iwaizumi’s thighs his pillow.
Iwaizumi was amazed how local Oikawa sounded, because, of course, after talking to Blanco and Couch Irihata, Oikawa entered his detective phase and researched everything about Argentinian customs... which meant Iwaizumi himself ended up learning a lot of Argentinian customs too. Well, Iwaizumi always learned new things when it came to Oikawa…
“Nothing is going to change, right? So, what? We… just add the have sex, kiss part?” Iwaizumi paused in the middle of gently running his hand through Oikawa’s hair. “I-if you’d like that, of course.”
“Mmm... someone’s kept investigating sexuality, huh?” Oikawa teased, smiling at a blushing Iwaizumi.
“Shut up, dumbass! Of course I read the stuff you lent me,” Iwaizumi bit back, pinching Oikawa’s nose jokingly. “Expect we wouldn’t be having sex... we would make love,” Iwaizumi concluded and looked down. Oikawa was staring intently at him, and Iwaizumi flushed even more but didn’t look away until–
“PPFFFT! Oh my god, Hajime!!! You’re such a sap!!!” Oikawa cried out laughing, while he tried to get up from Iwaizumi’s lap. “Ouch!” Oikawa whined, collapsing back onto the couch, suddenly reaching for his back.
Iwaizumi’s laughter stopped when Oikawa hissed in pain. “Is it bad?” he asked as he got up and helped Oikawa up.
Oikawa nodded and turned his back on Iwaizumi: check it for yourself. Iwaizumi did, slowly and with care, lifting Oikawa’s shirt. Oikawa’s dark purple skin got goose bumps when Iwaizumi’s hand ghosted over it, not daring to touch further. “Did you take the pain killers?”
Oikawa nodded again, and took a step away, putting down his shirt.
No talking about yesterday’s match then, Iwaizumi understood –at least not yet. “Are you going to Karasuno’s match?” Iwaizumi asked.
Oikawa shook his head.
“My brother is visiting today, wanna come?” Iwaizumi offered.
Iwaizumi’s brother, Shinya, and Oikawa were the worst combination for Iwaizumi’s mental health. The pair got along too well and enjoyed annoying the shit out of Iwaizumi, but, given everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Iwaizumi could make the sacrifice if that meant Oikawa would feel better… and Iwaizumi himself, too. Despite the cost, it really warmed his heart knowing his family loved Oikawa as much as he did.
“I’d rather stay here. I need to do the laundry and clean before my parents get home.”
Iwaizumi understood; he didn’t like the idea of leaving Oikawa alone right then, but he was asking for space, even if he couldn’t do it directly.
“Okay. Call me later?” Iwaizumi asked as Oikawa walked him to the door. Oikawa hesitated, mumbling in agreement and Iwaizumi leaned in to give Oikawa a peck on the lips. “Promise?”
***
A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER
“What? So you’re out here after all? Didn’t you say you weren’t gonna, ‘cause watching either of them win would piss you off?” Iwaizumi hopped down into the seat next to Oikawa.
Oikawa had been so enthralled by the game that he hadn’t noticed Iwaizumi until he spoke, his eyes fixed on the court, surely scrutinising every teams’ play. Iwaizumi loved that clinical side of Oikawa when it came to volleyball.
“One of them has to win, but I get to watch one of them lose, too!” Despite Oikawa’s haughty attitude, Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was still upset about their loss. Sometimes hiding behind nasty comments and rude nicknames helped numbing the pain. So Iwaizumi played along.
“Aha. I see, so you’re a jerk.” Iwaizumi took Oikawa’s hand in his; the other sputtered something unintelligible, which sounded like ‘Iwa-chan!! Have some decency’ and his cheeks turned incredibly red, yet he still locked their fingers together.
Iwaizumi let Oikawa talk about ‘Mr. Four-eyes’ and the reasons that made both Seijoh and Shiratorizawa powerhouses, and how Karasuno didn’t have a particular style they couldn’t afford to stray from, which allowed them to reach for and toy with new ideas without hesitation. After a few more petty comments and actual assessment of the teams, the referee blew the final whistle.
Karasuno had beaten Shiratorizawa.
Iwaizumi felt Oikawa’s hand shake in his tender grip and then Oikawa squeezed his hand just for the briefest of seconds, gritting his teeth, enraged. Oikawa said, “Dammit, Ushiwaka. You could at least look ticked off when you lose.”
Ushiwaka indeed could look more annoyed after losing… the same way they could have beaten Karasuno and stayed in the court for longer. It didn’t happen, though –neither Ushiwaka looking bitter, nor Seijoh winning their match.
In fact, if Iwaizumi dwelled too much on their loss, he’d start thinking he’d failed Oikawa again. But, of course, Oikawa hadn’t allowed that after the match, wasn’t allowing it now either, just by staying by Iwaizumi’s side.
They had lost their final high-school match together. It sucked, yes, but the mere warmth of Oikawa’s hands in his was good enough to ignore that sting that would eventually fade. Iwaizumi was confident something better, bigger, was awaiting them.
A few more petty comments and Oikawa was done. He got up, letting go of Iwaizumi’s hand and hurried Iwaizumi out of the gymnasium with an imperious gesture and an annoyed, “Anyway! We’re leaving! Go! Move!”
Iwaizumi walked ahead but before going down the steps he stopped, turning on his heel abruptly. Oikawa would have crashed into him if Iwaizumi hadn’t caught him.
“Iwa–?!”
“Can I take you on a date?” Iwaizumi spit out and –shit!– there was no way he would get used to flustered Oikawa.
“Iwa-chan wants to show off his pretty boyfriend to the world?”
The bastard recovers way too quick, Iwaizumi thought in disgust.
“Who said anything about boyfriends?”
Oikawa gasped, a hand going to rest over his chest.
Drama Queen Oikawa could be cute sometimes too, Iwaizumi decided then. “Just kidding. Of course I’d want to take my boyfriend out.”
“Boyfriend would like that very much,” Oikawa said, catching Iwaizumi’s hand and walking past him, dragging Iwaizumi along. “Now shut up and take me out of here, I’d rather die than watch the awards ceremony.”
Iwaizumi scoffed, but there was no way he could erase his loving smile, “You really are a crappy guy.”
***