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At seven-years-old, Tooru and Hajime are just old enough for their mothers to trust them to go off by themselves during the day, as long as they promise to stay out of trouble and return in time for dinner. They pass the summer months chasing each other around the neighborhood, reveling in the newfound freedom.
Tooru hangs upside down from an old tire swing, humming quietly to himself as he licks at his fingers, still sticky from the popsicles they’d had earlier that day.
“Iwa-chan, I’ve been thinking,” he begins, scrunching his nose up pensively.
The bug net nearly slips from Hajime’s fingers, causing the beetle he’d been stalking to fly off into the wind. He scowls, turning back to glare at Tooru in annoyance. If there’s one thing he’s learned from all his years of being best friends with Oikawa Tooru, it’s that Oikawa ‘thinking’ over something will never end well, especially for Hajime.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Come on, Iwa-chan, I never even said anything!” Oikawa pouts, sliding off the swing and landing in a ball on the grass. “At least listen to me.”
“You scared away my stag beetle!”
“There’s lots more gross beetles out there!”
Hajime scowls, obviously not appreciating the sentiment, but gives in and falls into the grass beside his best friend. It’s an unsaid truth between them that Tooru will always get his way eventually, as much as Hajime hates to admit it.
“Fine. What?”
Tooru lets out a little huff, puffing out his cheeks in clear frustration. He chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking carefully. “When we’re older, do you think we’ll have to get girlfriends and stuff?”
Hajime wrinkles his nose. “I dunno. Maybe.”
“My sister got a boyfriend. He’s really weird…” Tooru explains, holding his hands up. “She spends all her time with him now and doesn’t wanna play anymore…. I don’t ever want that to happen to me."
Hajime frowns, rolling onto his side so he can get a better look at his best friend. He knows Tooru didn’t take his older leaving for college very well. When they were little, she’d spend hours playing with them, but since she’s left for university, Hajime has hardly seen her at all. While Tooru’s never said it out loud, Hajime knows it bothers him. There’s nothing Tooru hates more than feeling abandoned by someone he loves.
“Adults are just busy, Tooru,” he says carefully, repeating the words his mother would tell him whenever his father had to miss something because of work. “I’m sure she’d still play with us if she could.”
“So you think when we get older, we’ll get girlfriends and be too busy to spend time with anyone else?” Tooru asks, his eyes widening miserably.
“Obviously not!”
“But we might! All adults do it,” Tooru insists, small hands clenching into fists. “What if we’re too busy to be friends anymore?”
Hajime rolls his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. We’re best friends no matter what, you dummy.”
But Tooru doesn’t seem to hear him. He rolls over so they’re practically nose-to-nose, eyes wide with panic. “Iwa-chan, we should date each other. I don’t care about dating any girls anyway!”
Hajime stares at him, bewildered.
“No way! We’re best friends, why bother with stuff like that? Dating sounds weird.”
This, apparently, was not the right thing to say. Tooru’s bottom lip begins to shake. “Iwa-chan-” he sniffles, big crocodile tears appearing in the corner of his eyes.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Hajime huffs, reaching out to tug on Tooru’s arm. “I said it already, didn’t I? We’ll always be together. So stop thinking stupid stuff.”
Tooru sniffles again, but wipes his eyes on the back of his arm and manages a watery smile. “You think so?”
“You trust me, don’t you?” Hajime asks, brow furrowed.
“Y-yeah…”
“So don’t worry about such silly stuff. Now come on, we have to get home. Your mom is making agedashi tofu.”
Tooru sits up instantly, face twisting in disgust. “Ew. Why do you like that stuff, anyway?”
“Some of us aren’t picky brats like you. You’ll be short forever if you only ever eat milk bread!”
“Hey!” Tooru quips, and starts off on a rant as to how he’s sure milk bread is a hundred times healthier than tofu. “I’ll be taller than you someday, just you watch!”
“As if!”
Just like that, the strange conversation is forgotten. Hajime can only breathe a silent sigh of relief as they race home, side-by-side.
There’s a common conception among the first year students of Kitagawa Daiichi Middle School that Oikawa is a natural born ladykiller. Even third year girls seem to blush and shy away in his presence- much to Iwaizumi’s complete and utter bewilderment.
As far as he’s concerned, it’s the greatest misconception in existence. Oikawa is about as smooth as a howler monkey trying to charm a mate, and Iwaizumi is sure to remind him whenever he can, if only to bring him down a peg.
How anyone could find his clumsy flirting and obnoxious hair flips appealing, Iwaizumi has no idea. But he’s forced to deal with the strange reality that he can’t walk down the halls with Oikawa anymore without some pack of girls giggling and looking away. He’s just not sure what to make of it.
What these girls don’t seem to understand is that the apparently smooth-talking, endlessly handsome Oikawa Tooru has about as much experience interacting with people he has a crush on as Iwaizumi; that is to say- none. They’ve all seemed to have overlooked the fact that for all of Oikawa’s seemingly endless charms, he’s never even gone on a single date.
“Will you just sit down and work on your homework,” Iwaizumi grumbles, rolling his eyes as he watches Oikawa pace back and forth around his bedroom.
Oikawa turns to glare at him, arms folded across his chest.
“As my best friend, you’re supposed to try to be supportive.”
Iwaizumi lets out an exaggerated groan, before flopping back against his mattress.
“Fine. What is it?”
“I think I really wanna ask Hana-chan out for real this time,” Oikawa tells him, squaring his shoulders. “She’s really cute!”
“And that’s a problem because…” Iwaizumi prompts, casting a sidelong glance in his friend’s direction. “I thought you were some regular Casanova now.”
Oikawa turns red. “Shut up! It-it’s not a problem at all-”
“Then sit down and do your homework.”
Instead of listening, Oikawa falls forward, resting his chin in his hands. “I just… I just need to practice.”
Iwaizumi can see what direction this is going in, and he has absolutely no desire to be involved in it. “Do you want me to tell everyone you actually suck at flirting?”
“Iwa-chan! Don’t be rude! I do not ! I just want to make sure that Hana-chan gets the perfect experience, so I'm gonna rehearse a few times.”
“Why don’t you just rehearse to your own ugly face in the mirror?”
“ Iwa-chan ,” Oikawa whines, sticking his nose childishly in the air. “You are the worst friend-”
“I haven’t kicked you out, have I?”
“Just listen to me, okay?” Oikawa huffs, placing his hands on his hips. He straightens himself to full height, and flips his hair out of his eyes.
“So…. Hana-chan,” Oikawa starts, with what he must think is playful smirk.
“Oh my god.”
“I was thinking-”
“My answer is no,” Iwaizumi grumbles, throwing an arm over his face.
“You have to at least let me finish!” Oikawa hisses, lip jutting out.
“Fine, continue.”
“Are you free Saturday?”
“No.”
“What about Sunday?”
“Definitely not.”
“Next week?”
“I’m busy every day until I die.”
“Wha-? Iwa-chan!”
Iwaizumi just levels him with an unimpressed look.
“You’re supposed to be helping me!”
“I didn’t promise anything.”
“Iwa-chan, take this seriously,” Oikawa implores, puffing out his cheeks. “I’m just trying to practice!”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine. I’m listening.”
Oikawa nods, drawing in a nervous breath. “I think you’re very cute. Go out with me?”
Iwaizumi blinks at him, scowling.
“No way in hell.”
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whines, falling forward against the mattress. “You’re the worst friend ever. This is the last time I ever come to you in my time of need.”
“Just sit down and work on your homework,” Iwaizumi grumbles, decidedly unsympathetic.
In the end, Oikawa never manages to muster up the courage to ask Hana out. By next week, he’s too distracted with volleyball to really worry about crushes anyway. And if Iwaizumi feels a little smug about this, well, Oikawa will never have to know.
“Oikawa, nice serve,” Hanamaki calls, with a smirk. Oikawa doesn’t spare him a glance, his attention fixed on the other side of the court.
Today’s practice is a three-on-three practice match against the third years, and Oikawa is anxious to show off to their senpai, even if he knows their chances at winning aren’t great.
Iwaizumi covers the back of his head with his hands, braced for impact. Oikawa might feel offended if he didn’t know his serves were still something of a work in progress.
He forces himself to stay calm, taking one final breath before launching the ball into the air.
It gets over the net, but there’s not as much power behind it as he would have liked, and his senpai receives it easily.
Oikawa grumbles to himself but hastens forward to get ready for the attack. Their captain, a tall wily spiker who he has always secretly found a little annoying, sends the ball straight for the corner of the court. Luckily, Hanamaki manages to dive for it, shouting for Oikawa to cover.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa calls, and sets the ball for his best friend. Iwaizumi spikes it, muscled arms straining with the force of it- only for the volleyball to reflect off the massive wall created by the line of third year blockers.
“You’ll have to try better than that, first years!” Their captain laughs, and they all exchange high fives, looking much too smug for Oikawa’s liking.
“Damn it,” Iwaizumi hisses, flexing his hand. Oikawa furrows his brows, gesturing for Hanamaki to come closer.
“We need a different strategy,” he grumbles, side-eying the leering third years with poorly-concealed dislike.
“Good luck breaking through that wall…” Hanamaki sighs. “They just want to humiliate us.”
Oikawa grits his teeth.
“Leave it to me,” Iwaizumi cuts in, voice steady. Oikawa’s head whips over, slightly taken aback by the conviction in his best friend’s gaze. His mouth falls open, for once a loss for words.
“O-okay-”
There’s a flicker of something in Hanamaki’s eyes. He glances back and forth between them curiously, but then shrugs and hastens back into position before Oikawa can question it.
They manage to receive the next serve with relative ease. Hanamaki sends it up for Oikawa, mouth half open in a breathless shout.
Everything seems to move in slow motion. Oikawa senses rather than sees the movement of Iwaizumi racing in behind him as he prepares to set the ball. They’ve done this thousands of times throughout their childhood, and he doesn’t even have to look to know the exact moment Iwaizumi’s arm will be at the top of its arc; each movement is all but instinctual as he tosses the ball into the air.
He watches in silent awe as Iwaizumi’s open palm makes contact with the ball, connecting with such force that it goes straight through the wall of third years, landing with a satisfying smack on the gym floor.
A beat passes in silence. The third years all seem slightly dazed. Iwaizumi stares forward; seemingly shocked with himself, despite all his confidence beforehand. Sweat drips from his brow into his eyes, but he's too stunned to wipe it away.
“Marry me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa blurts, laughter in his voice.
Iwaizumi spares him a single unimpressed stare.
“No way in hell,” he replies, almost reflexively, but his mouth is quirking up at the edges, and it breaks into a genuine grin when Hanamaki runs up from behind them to tackle them into a group hug, shouting enthusiastically.
Even the third years have to begrudgingly admit it was a solid spike. They’re all scowling in surprise, much to Oikawa’s silent satisfaction.
They still lose, of course. Their chances were never great when faced with their more experienced upperclassmen, but their pride is left mostly undamaged, at least. Hanamaki decides to consider it a win, even if Oikawa is left with a bitter taste in his mouth for the rest of the day.
It’s not all for nothing. The next week, when their coach announces the roster for the next practice match, Iwaizumi’s name has been added to the starting lineup.
Iwaizumi’s face lights up with shock, and Oikawa offers him a true smile, clamping his astonished best friend on the back. Every part of him feels incredibly light, as he practically beams with pride. Although he’d been proud to be given the position of starting setter as a first year, he could never shake the feeling something felt a little off when he was on the court, almost like he was off center; out of balance.
Everything seems a little less daunting knowing he can rely on Iwaizumi to have his back.
It’s well past midnight when Iwaizumi’s phone starts buzzing loudly against his nightstand. He shifts his eyes from his homework, unsurprised to see Oikawa’s name lighting up the screen.
“What’s wrong, dumbass? I’m going to sleep soon.”
The cheerful quip he’s expecting in return doesn’t come. Oikawa just stays deathly silent, breathing heavily into the receiver.
“....Oikawa?”
“Can you… can you let me in?” Oikawa’s voice is small and shaky, and Iwaizumi straightens up instantly.
“Give me a second,” he sighs, before leaving to sprint toward his front door. Oikawa is standing on his front step, hair mussed, and face blotchy. There’s a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he’s visibly shaking, despite how warm it is outside.
It’s jarring. All Iwaizumi can do is step aside to allow his friend to stagger through the door. He stands there, at a loss for words; too thrown for a loop to think of anything helpful to say. He knows better than anyone else that Oikawa is not nearly as put together as he likes to project to the world, but it’s rare for him to really break down like this.
Thankfully, Oikawa decides to speak up, saving Iwaizumi the pain of figuring out what to say.
“She broke up with me…”
“Oh,” Iwaizumi replies, in a voice that probably isn’t nearly as sympathetic as it should be, considering how upset his best friend seems. But Oikawa has broken up with plenty of girls in the past, and he and his last girlfriend had only been going out for two weeks. Oikawa hadn’t even seemed that attached to her. It makes no sense for him to look this destroyed over it.
“Sorry,” Iwaizumi adds lamely, hands hanging at his sides.
Oikawa just shrugs, hugging his blanket closer. “Whatever.”
“There are more girls-” Iwaizumi tries to say, feeling slightly guilty for sounding so dismissive at first.
“Hajime,” Oikawa cuts him off, and Iwaizumi’s breath hitches, shocked into silence at the use of his given name. He has no idea what’s going on, but it’s really starting to freak him out. “Can I stay the night?”
Iwaizumi blinks at him, perplexed. “Of course you can. Since when have you ever had to ask?”
Oikawa just looks down sadly, and shuffles off toward Iwaizumi’s bedroom without another word.
Lips pursed, Iwaizumi can’t think of much else to do but follow him, watching quietly as Oikawa settles on the edge of his bed.
“So… what happened?” he tries.
“She says I’m too distracted with volleyball,” Oikawa replies, sounding severely disinterested.
“Oh. Well, you’ll find someone else, right?” ‘You always have before,’ he thinks, but doesn’t add.
Oikawa flops onto his side, face half-concealed by the pillow. He neglects to answer the question, instead squeezes his eyes shut. If today were a normal day, Iwaizumi would yell at him for stealing his bed, but he stays quiet and takes a tentative step closer.
“That’s not what this is about, is it?”
Oikawa visibly flinches, and turns away.
“Come on, Shittykawa, you can’t turn up on my doorstep like this and then just shut me out.”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for dating, Iwa-chan. I don’t click with anybody.”
It’s a little alarming how hollow Oikawa’s voice sounds. Iwaizumi clears his throat, scooting closer.
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? We’re still only in high school.”
One of Oikawa’s hands suddenly shoots out to grip at Iwaizumi’s arm. “You don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get?”
Oikawa makes a pained sound, and sinks into the mattress. “I-”
“If this is some shit about how worthless you are, I don’t wanna hear it. You’re amazing, Tooru, even if I don’t say it often. Anyone would be lucky to date you, don’t let your shitty self esteem make you think otherwise.”
At this, Oikawa lets out a breathless little laugh, devoid of all humor. He rolls back over to face Hajime, a watery smile on his face.
“We... Sometimes I think we should just go out, Iwa-chan. You actually get me, and I…. I feel-”
All the air feels like it’s been knocked from Iwaizumi’s lungs. He balls one hand into a fist, and chances a glance at Oikawa, who’s now watching him with an unreadable expression on his face.
“You’re tired, Oikawa. Get some sleep,” he finally says. The words sting his throat, but he doesn’t take them back. He feels like the entire world is reeling.
“But-”
Iwaizumi leans forward, pulling the blanket more snugly around Oikawa’s shoulders. “You’re not thinking straight. You’ll feel better if you just try to get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.”
Oikawa’s bottom lip trembles, but he says nothing else as Iwaizumi gets up to leave the room in search of the extra futon.
Iwaizumi tosses and turns all night, but can never find sleep. Judging from the lack of soft snoring coming from Oikawa’s direction, sleep evades him as well.
Neither of them mention anything about it in the morning.
The room is totally quiet, save for the sound of Kindaichi’s loud snoring coming from a corner. It’s some obscene hour of the morning, and they’ll have to be up early for the next day of training camp, so it’s no surprise everyone passed out the moment their heads hit the pillow.
Everyone aside from their captain, that is. Oikawa has struggled with insomnia for years, and he’s found it increasingly difficult to shut off his mind as their final year of high school draws closer and closer to an end. He’s not ready for it, not ready for that kind of change.
Not ready to say goodbye.
He sits with his knees drawn to his chest, having long since given up on finding sleep. He stares up at the ceiling, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to will his mind to just calm down.
It will be better in the morning, he tries to remind himself. Things will seem less daunting then, even if the terrifying reality of his impending future isn’t about to just go away.
He breathes in a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut.
Beside him, Iwaizumi mumbles something incoherent in his sleep and rolls over. One of his arms lands in Oikawa’s lap.
Oikawa’s lip quirks into a silent smile. Iwaizumi has been prone to talk in his sleep since he was a child, and has never been able to stay still. He can think of more than one occasion where they’d slept with their futons pushed together, and he’d woken with Iwaizumi practically in his lap or with his foot in his face.
“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa whispers, and it comes out so ridiculously fond, he’s happy no one else was awake to hear it.
Iwaizumi wrinkles his nose in his sleep, and sighs deeply.
Tentatively, Oikawa lowers a hand, pausing more than once to be one hundred percent certain that his best friend is still completely asleep. Once he’s sure Iwaizumi won’t wake up, he allows himself to run his fingers through his friend’s hair, gazing down through soft eyes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, Iwa-chan, but I’m really gonna miss you after we graduate. I-I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you,” he says, voice barely a whisper.
He pauses for a few seconds, but Iwaizumi doesn’t so much as stir, so he continues, tilting his head up to blink away tears.
“Y’know, I really meant what I told you… after Ayane-chan broke up with me. I know you didn’t take me seriously, but…” he trails off, eyes focused on the wall behind them. “I don’t want to date any of my fangirls, no matter how cute they are. You make me a better person, Iwa-chan. I’m not sure what I’ll do without you.”
Predictably, Iwaizumi doesn’t reply. Oikawa’s not sure why he feels a sudden rush of disappointment at this. He’s not sure what he even wanted to accomplish by spewing his heart out to his unconscious best friend at this hour of the morning. Staying up this late has always been dangerous.
Someone shifts in their sleep, and Oikawa stills, yanking his hand free from Iwaizumi’s hair to rest awkwardly in his lap. He holds his breath for a few seconds, waiting for anyone to stir, but there’s no further movement.
Sighing, Oikawa gently shoves Iwaizumi’s limp body back onto his own futon so he can lay back down. He needs to try for at least a few hours of sleep, if he wants to be ready for early practice.
When Iwaizumi asks him why he seems so out of it in the morning, he just laughs and says he’d never be able to get decent sleep on such a hard floor.
It’s clear Iwaizumi doesn’t buy that excuse. With a scowl, he promptly chucks a water bottle at him and tells him to take better care of himself.
Oikawa just flashes a peace sign, and runs off, ignoring the sensation of Iwaizumi’s concerned gaze on his shoulder.
(Interlude)
“You should tell him.”
Oikawa nearly jumps out of his own skin, whipping around to find Hanamaki watching him with a catlike grin on his face.
“M-Makki-chan! What are you doing here so late?”
Hanamaki shrugs, running a hand along his old volleyball locker. “Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic too. After next week, we’re never coming back here, at least as students. If we ever play volleyball together again, it will be from different sides of the court.”
“M-Makki…” Oikawa sniffles, and wipes his eyes on the back of his arm. “You don’t have to remind me…”
Hanamaki laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges. He elbows Oikawa in the side, eliciting a high-pitched squeak. “But I thought I’d find you here. I wanted to talk to you without any chance of our dear Iwa-chan interrupting.”
All the muscles in Oikawa’s body stiffen, and he glances quickly away. “What about Iwa-chan?”
“Don’t fuck with me. You’ve been about as subtle as a punch to the face.”
“I don’t-”
“Look, Oikawa, your doe-eyes aren’t fooling anyone. Please put us all out of our misery and say something.”
“You overheard at training camp…”
Hanamaki snorts. “Even if I hadn’t, I’ve known for a while. You’re not as good at hiding it as you think you are.”
“So you came here to bully your ex-captain one last time? So kind, Makki.”
Rolling his eyes, Hanamaki drapes an arm over Oikawa’s shoulder. “I’m doing this because I care about you.”
“Uh huh …”
“Just think about it. If you don’t tell him now-”
“I’ve tried to tell him before-” Oikawa interrupts, in a shaky voice. “He doesn’t believe me, and he definitely doesn’t feel that way. You don’t have to be so mean to me about my pathetic love life, Makki-chan.” He crosses his arms, lip jutting out childishly. “I’m already well aware how sad it is. Just let me angst about it in solitude like all the normal kids do these days.”
“What is this? The great Oikawa Tooru just gives up?”
“I’m not-”
“Look, the both of us know Iwaizumi is about as dense as a brick wall. Remember that poor first year that tried to confess to him?” They both take a moment to cringe sympathetically. The poor girl hadn’t even received the time of day, and had been left to run away to her friends in tears.
“Iwa-chan does suck at romance…” Oikawa allows, scratching the back of his neck. “And he felt bad once he realized-”
“That’s not the point! Have you ever actually tried stating it plainly?”
“Well… I-”
“So that’s a no.”
“Makki, you really are a bully!”
Hanamaki smirks, squeezing Oikawa’s shoulder. “You know it. So….?”
Pursing his lips, Oikawa glances down at his arms. His shoulders sag in defeat. “....I’ll think about it.”
“That’s really all I can ask,” Hanamaki says, with a nod. “You know, me and Issei are here if you ever wanna talk-”
“Mattsun knows too-?!”
“Well …”
“Makki!”
“I already told you, you haven’t been exactly subtle.”
Oikawa buries his face in his hands, letting out a soft moan.
“There, there,” Hanamaki drawls, gently patting his head.
“You’re the worst, Makki.”
“I love you too.”
(+1)
“Oi, Oikawa-”
“Hmm…?”
“Hey, are you paying attention at all?” Iwaizumi grunts, and then nudges him in the side.
Oikawa flinches, snapping to attention. “Sorry, what?”
Iwaizumi furrows his brows, cocking his head. “You usually love this part,” he says, gesturing back to the TV screen. They’re rewatching Star Wars together for maybe the eightieth time since their childhood. Maybe the last time, Oikawa tries not to remind himself.
“Oh… I guess I was just thinking…”
Iwaizumi frowns. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”
“I’m always weird. You tell me that all the time.”
It’s clear from Iwaizumi’s expression that he doesn’t find this to be a satisfying answer. He reaches out to pause the movie, face stern. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. I know you.”
These words cause Oikawa’s chest to constrict painfully, and he has to fight to keep his voice from trembling as he answers.
“You’re a worry wart, Iwa-chan.” He flashes a cheery smile, though it isn’t the least bit convincing.
“Somebody has to worry about you,” Iwaizumi grumbles, and sets a warm hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Really, Oikawa. What’s wrong? You being quiet like this is almost as annoying as you repeating all of the director’s commentary throughout the entire thing.” His voice is gruff, but there’s genuine concern in his eyes, and Oikawa can’t help but feel a little guilty.
“Just thinking about university, I guess… Everything’s going to change so much in a month.”
“I’m nervous too, y’know?” Iwaizumi murmurs, after a few seconds of contemplative silence. “Leaving Miyagi, all our friends… It’s going to be weird not to see you everyday.”
“I’m going to miss you so much!” Oikawa blurts, before he can stop himself. He flushes as his vision starts to blur, and he hastens to bury his face in his hands. “I just…”
Beside him, Iwaizumi has gone quiet. The cushions of the couch shift, and Oikawa feels his friend’s warmth pressed against his side.
“I’ll miss you too.” Iwaizumi shifts closer still, so he can gently pry Oikawa’s hands from his face. “But we’re only an hour apart. We can visit each other on the weekends, right? You really think we’d drift apart after all these years? You’re my best friend, and the best damn teammate anyone could ask for. We’re in this together, no matter where either of us end up in life.”
Oikawa sniffles, squeezing Iwaizumi’s hands in his. “You said something similar when we were little.”
“Did I?”
Laughing, Oikawa lets out a quiet sigh. “Yeah. And I guess so far, it’s turned out to be true, hasn’t it?”
Iwaizumi purses his lips, clearly not sure how to respond. “Well, we have both grown a lot since then… But we’re still friends.”
“I’m glad.”
“Me too,” Iwaizumi replies easily. He offers a toothy grin, before finally tugging his hands free of Oikawa’s grip and scooting back onto his side of the couch. “Do you feel better, then?”
Maybe it’s the melancholy nature of the moment that gives Oikawa the courage. Maybe it’s the realization that he may never get another opportunity if he stays silent. Or maybe it’s just the thought of Hanamaki’s disapproving eye roll when he finds out he’s still neglected to say anything.
Whatever the case, Oikawa finds himself straightening up, hands shaking a little even as he tries to keep them steady.
“Actually… There’s something else I should probably tell you…”
Iwaizumi fixes him with a curious stare. “Is it bad?”
“No! Well- actually…” He swallows, quickly losing his nerve. “Maybe we should just-”
“Spit it out. You can’t say something like that and then back out at the last second.”
Oikawa glances up to meets Iwaizumi’s curious eyes, before quickly dropping his gaze to his lap. His throat feels like it wants to close up on itself, but somehow, he finds the nerve to keep speaking. There’s never been anything he couldn’t tell Iwaizumi- never . Nothing would change that. Even something as complicated as his feelings.
“Do you remember what I said to you, after Ayane-chan broke up with me?”
Iwaizumi shifts uncomfortably.
“...yes.”
“Well… I really meant it, even then, although I know it was kind of an awful and guilt-trippy way to ask you out.” Oikawa laughs uneasily, curling his hands into fists. “I wasn’t actually upset that another girl broke up with me... I was more upset because I realized, that no matter how hard I tried, I was never going to feel the same way for a girl as I do for you.”
Iwaizumi still hasn’t made a sound. Oikawa doesn’t dare look up, just forces himself to keep speaking.
“The truth is, I’ve been in love with you since we were seven years old and you told me we’d always be together, whether I realized it or not.”
Still, Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to react. Oikawa heaves a shaky gasp of air.
“So, yeah, I just needed you to know.”
Another moment passes in tense silence. Oikawa is too terrified to look up, even as the seconds seem to drag on.
“Say something,” he pleads, voice shaking.
“You’re serious?” Iwaizumi whispers. He sounds more shocked then anything else, and it’s the lack of anger in his voice that gives Oikawa the courage to finally look up at him. Iwaizumi’s dark eyes are blown wide, a rosy blush dusting his cheeks.
“What kind of question is that, Iwa-chan?”
And then Iwaizumi lets out a choked sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Oikawa barely has a moment to brace himself, before Iwaizumi’s scrambling forward, reaching out to cup Oikawa’s face.
“I thought-”
“You thought wrong,” Oikawa gasps.
Iwaizumi blinks, disbelief still painting his features. Then, all at once, his face breaks into a massive smile, one that Oikawa can’t help but match with a smile of his own.
“Tooru, I-”
“Hajime…”
Iwaizumi laughs, warm breath tickling Oikawa’s cheeks, and then Oikawa is wrapping both arms around his back, pulling him closer, so their foreheads rest together.
“I was never going to tell you, but-” Iwaizumi blinks, eyes softening endearingly as he bites his lip. “Damn, Tooru, we’re both so dumb.”
Oikawa can’t stop smiling, even if his mind hasn’t quite caught up with what's going on. All he knows is that he's happy, so happy.
“So… does this mean you’ll go out with me…?”
Iwaizumi snorts, runs a thumb down Oikawa’s face tenderly even as he rolls his eyes. “What do you think, dumbass?”
“I just wanna hear you say it,” Oikawa mumbles, and although his tone is childish, he’s never been more serious. He’s wanted to hear it for so long.
This elicits a sigh from Iwaizumi, but he can’t stop his lips from quirking up at the edges.
“Yes.”