Chapter Text
It had been an hour and a half - an hour and a half of pacing, biting fingernails down to stubs, checking and re-checking his phone - when Ushijima called.
Iwaizumi's fingers shook, but his voice was steady as he answered with a terse, "Hello?"
"Iwaizumi, what's wrong with Oikawa?"
His heart sank. "Oikawa's there?"
"He's crying. He won't stop asking for you."
I shouldn't have let him go.
"I'll be there in ten minutes. Same house?"
"Yeah." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Hurry, before your boyfriend hurts himself."
Boyfriend? What?
"My- What?"
"Your boyfriend. Is he not?"
"Aren't you two..?" Iwaizumi's head was swimming, pounding, and all the only coherent thought he could form was they aren't together.
"Me? You thought I was dating Oikawa?" A wheezy, hoarse sound crackled through the phone speaker, and it took Iwaizumi a second to realize Ushijima was laughing. "You're denser than I am, aren't you?"
"I'm..?"
"Just come get Oikawa. I'm sure he'll explain everything. I'll get him some water while we wait."
Ushijima hung up, and Iwaizumi counted the seconds, dragging by like they were being pulled through molasses, before he took the phone down from his face. Grabbing the keys Oikawa had left and pulling on a jacket, he hurried out of the door and into the night.
The air was cold, streetlights blinking on and off as Iwaizumi jogged to his car. He didn’t drive it very often - he had no need to - but he figured it would be a better bet than taking the hour to walk to Ushijima’s house. The icy metal bit at his hands as he opened the door, sliding into the seat and jamming the key into the ignition before he even got his feet inside the car. It sputtered to life under his hands in a chorus of wheezes and groans. Fuck, he really needed a new car.
The way to Ushijima’s house was unfamiliar, but Iwaizumi tried his best to remember where it was. He could see himself and Oikawa on the sidewalk, Oikawa walking backwards and pulling Iwaizumi by the hand. “Come on, Iwa-chan, just one little prank! I found out where Ushiwaka-chan lives,” he had said, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face.
“Don’t be immature,” Iwaizumi had replied.
The street was dark now, no specters of his first year self on the concrete or anywhere else. Oikawa wasn’t there in the street, he was curled up at Ushijima’s house crying. Because of me.
He drove faster.
-
Oikawa was sitting on the pavement outside of Ushijima’s house, looking absolutely miserable. Ushijima stood on the porch, beckoning for Oikawa to come inside, but there was no response. Oikawa simply stared forward, expressionless, as Iwaizumi pulled up and came to a stop. He all but fell out of the car, hurrying across the street and throwing his jacket over Oikawa’s shoulders.
“Oikawa? Oikawa, can you hear me? Are you alright?”
Oikawa turned his face up to Iwaizumi’s, eyes red and puffy but emotionless, blank. As soon as he registered who was standing in front of him, Oikawa shuddered and took a deep breath.
“Haj-” He croaked out, stopping before he could get the name out of his mouth. “Iwaizumi?”
Fuck. This is my fault.
“He had water,” Ushijima called from the top of the steps. “He won’t come back inside. Can you handle him?”
Iwaizumi nodded in response, and Ushijima tossed a last pitiful look at Oikawa before disappearing back into his house.
“Iwaizumi,” Oikawa called again, voice louder but still shaky. He heaved a dry sob, curling into the jacket Iwaizumi had wrapped around him. Iwaizumi leaned down, cupping Oikawa’s cold face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together.
“Just Hajime is fine, you know.”
His words seemed to draw Oikawa out of whatever trance he was in, because he surged forward, dropping his head to Iwaizumi’s shoulder and fisting his hands into Iwaizumi’s shirt once again (he remembered, painfully, what had happened the last time Oikawa had done this) and whispered a soft, unsteady Hajime against the skin beneath his lips.
Iwaizumi’s heart broke.
“Fuck, Tooru,” he murmured, lips next to Oikawa’s ear, hand stroking his head comfortingly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Oikawa shook in his arms, clutching onto the shirt in his arms like a lifeline. There were no tears - Iwaizumi was sure he had cried himself out long before - but he shook with silent, dry sobs. They stayed there like that, outside of Ushijima’s house, for what seemed like a lifetime. The cold bit at Iwaizumi’s bare arms but he didn’t notice; his skin burned wherever he and Oikawa touched.
Eventually, after what felt like hours or minutes or maybe days (Iwaizumi couldn’t tell), Oikawa stopped shaking. His breaths evened out, and he even went so far as to loosen his grip on Iwaizumi’s shirt the slightest bit. Iwaizumi felt the separation as clearly as if Oikawa had been ripped from his arms.
“Let’s go, yeah?” Iwaizumi asked softly, voice hoarse from lack of use. He pulled at Oikawa’s shoulders gently, urging him to get up. Oikawa’s legs were unsteady, and he slipped the first time he tried to stand. Using Iwaizumi as a crutch for his tired body, he hobbled across the street to the car. Iwaizumi helped him inside, pulling the jacket from off his back and laying it over him like a blanket. Oikawa pulled it up, burying his face in it and curling into himself to get away from the cold. Iwaizumi didn’t think he had ever loved Oikawa more. He started the car.
The clock on the dashboard read 11:59, and Iwaizumi watched the numbers shift as midnight crept up on the world.
-
The apartment was warm, a blessing to Iwaizumi and Oikawa the second they stepped inside. Shutting the door, Iwaizumi led Oikawa over to the couch and sat him down. He made to get up, to head to his room and get some warm clothes or maybe blankets - Oikawa was still shivering, clinging to Iwaizumi’s jacket like it was his lifeline - but a tug on his shirt stopped him.
“Stay,” Oikawa whispered, the first word he had said since leaving Ushijima’s house. Iwaizumi didn’t have the strength or the will to argue.
Oikawa curled up against him when he sat down, and Iwaizumi noticed with a shiver just how cold he really was. He looked around for a blanket, for anything to drape over them. The only thing he could reach without getting up was his jacket, which Oikawa still clutched to his chest.
“Oikawa,” he whispered, nudging Oikawa’s shoulder softly. “I have to get up.”
“Stay,” Oikawa mumbled again, sounding more wretched than the first time he had spoken. “Please, Hajime.”
Iwaizumi nudged him again. “Can you get up with me, then? Just to the bedroom, so you can get warm.”
Hesitantly, Oikawa nodded, prying himself up from Iwaizumi’s side like he had been glued down. Iwaizumi led him to the bedroom with one arm looped around his shoulders, pulling him close. Oikawa leaned into him as they walked, and even after the events of the day his scent still comforted Iwaizumi.
Oikawa didn’t pull away from him until they were already in the room, and he crawled under the covers of Iwaizumi’s bed with a sort of methodical numbness that suggested he wasn’t quite as okay as he thought he was. Iwaizumi stepped away, planning to turn on the light or go get another blanket or maybe some clothes for Oikawa to change into, but a pained whine came from beneath the blankets.
“Hajime,” Oikawa said, in that voice that was raw and ragged and tearstained, and Iwaizumi figured that whatever he thought was more important than this could wait, because Oikawa was hurt and he had to fucking help him because this was his fault.
He crawled into the bed, circling his arms around Oikawa and drawing him close. Oikawa let out a long, slow breath, tangling his legs with Iwaizumi’s and relaxing in his embrace. Somewhere outside, an owl hooted. Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa, in all his imperfect beauty, with his eyes still swollen and his hair splayed out messily over his forehead and the pillow.
“Does this mean you don’t hate me, then?” Oikawa asked, feigning playfulness even though he knew the pained laugh he gave afterwards gave him away. Iwaizumi’s eyes widened.
“Oh god,” Iwaizumi breathed. “Tooru, I never hated you.” He shifted forward, pressing his forehead against Oikawa’s. “I could never hate you.”
Oikawa’s lips twitched up into a smile, bittersweet and accompanied by tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes. “That’s… That’s good, right? I don’t know what I’d do if you ever hated me.” He let out another shaky laugh. “I just love you too much, I guess.”
Iwaizumi fell silent, not really sure what to do. Oikawa’s face was half bathed in moonlight streaming from the window, the only source of light in the darkened room. His eyelashes were longer than Iwaizumi had ever realized. Have they always been that long? He blinked, as if he could feel Iwaizumi’s stare burning into his skin.
“You love me too, right?”
Iwaizumi thought of nothing but Oikawa, of every opportunity Oikawa had taken to worm his way into his life in order to bring them to this moment.
“Of course.”
“Good,” Oikawa said, smiling that same bittersweet smile as he pulled the blanket up and over their heads. The world was plunged into darkness, Iwaizumi’s small world that consisted only of himself and Oikawa and the breath that filled the space between them. “Close your eyes, okay?”
-
The first brush of lips was soft, almost imperceptible. It was there, and then it wasn’t, and Iwaizumi would be lying if he said he didn’t chase Oikawa’s warmth when he pulled away. He tasted like tears, leaving a salty tang that Iwaizumi found when flicked his tongue out to lick his lips.
The second was longer, barely, lasting only a second, but it was long enough for Iwaizumi to register the softness of Oikawa’s lips, the way he took a deep breath through his nose before making contact, the way his lips parted ever so slightly just before he broke the kiss. If Iwaizumi could see, he would have followed the way Oikawa drew his bottom lip into his mouth, gnawing at it for a fraction of a second before he released it, soft and red against white teeth.
The third, Oikawa did not initiate. Iwaizumi reached up, felt around until he had one hand at the nape of Oikawa’s neck, pulling him forward to kiss once more. He felt Oikawa relax into his arms, pulling himself and Iwaizumi closer together and looping one arm around Iwaizumi to card fingers through his hair. His scent was intoxicating, filling the small, dark space they had made for themselves beneath the blankets, and Iwaizumi wondered why he hadn’t let himself do this before.
Oikawa was everywhere, filling all of Iwaizumi’s senses with a burning need, enveloping him in comfort and love and pure want all at once. He realized he was hardening and willed down the erection, not wanting to scare off Oikawa or pressure him into anything. His lips no longer tasted like tears, only heat and moisture and something so very Oikawa that it made Iwaizumi’s head spin.
As Oikawa licked at the seam of his lips, prodding it with his tongue to demand entry, Iwaizumi shifted his leg between Oikawa’s. Oikawa froze up immediately, letting out a small groan and sinking back into the kiss with more force than before. Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa growing against his thigh, could feel himself responding in kind to the harsh pants falling from the other’s lips. Without warning, he ground his hips up into Oikawa’s.
“Shit, Hajime-”
“Shhhhhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, I got you.”
They were rocking together now, rutting against each other in a way that had Iwaizumi’s name dripping from Oikawa’s tongue. Sweat gleamed on Iwaizumi’s brow, but he didn’t dare push the blanket off from over their heads for fear of ruining whatever this was that they had found. It was still dark beneath the covers, and Iwaizumi had no visual warning when he felt Oikawa’s fingers go from carding through his hair to gently tugging at it. Iwaizumi gasped, hips stuttering before settling into a steadily growing rhythm. Oikawa went from pants to groans, not kissing Iwaizumi anymore but simply letting his parted lips rest against Iwaizumi’s.
“Haijime,” Oikawa moaned, and it was that that tipped Iwaizumi over the edge, feeling his release coat the insides of his briefs. Oikawa followed not long after with a soft groan, dropping his head into the hollow where Iwaizumi’s neck met his collarbone.
“That was gross, Iwa-chan,” he said after a long while, when Iwaizumi’s briefs had started to become tacky and uncomfortable. His teasing tone was back, tired as it was, and Iwaizumi had never been happier to hear it.
“If you let me up, I can get towels and clothes,” Iwaizumi responded, not making any plan to actually move from where he and Oikawa lay entwined.
“Hmmmmm, in a little bit. I can deal with this for now.”
Iwaizumi smiled into the soft kiss that followed. “If you say so.”
“Oh, also?”
“What is it?”
Oikawa laughed softly, kissing Iwaizumi again. He’d been doing that a lot in the past hour. “I love you, Hajime.”
Iwaizumi smiled.
“I love you too, Tooru.”
-
“You don’t have to leave, you know.”
Oikawa laughed at Iwaizumi’s statement, sticking his tongue out and pulling a face. “Oh, are you being clingy, Iwa-chan? That isn’t like you.”
“Shut up, Oikawa. Shittykawa.”
“Aww, you don’t mean that, do you?”
Iwaizumi sighed. I really don’t.
He didn’t answer though, just leaned in to kiss Oikawa again. Somehow, it felt normal, like they had been doing this for years. Iwaizumi supposed they had, in a way. He felt Oikawa smile against his lips.
He smiled back.