Archive of Our Own

Time is a strange thing. One second can stretch into eternity, time seeming to hold its breath to prolong every moment taking place, and yet time can also seem to not have happened at all.

This moment, if Hajime could choose, he would skip altogether. But time is not merciful.

He watches with growing desperation how the ball leaves the hand of their opponents and flashes past the blockers before landing on the floor with a concluding thud. Time keeps moving slowly as the players of Shiratorizawa cheers for their victory, at least that is what Hajime guesses they are doing - sound has seemingly disappeared from his senses - and in a way he is glad for now he might pretend that he can’t hear his team fall apart.

It is more difficult than he would have thought to line up after the game. It is not the first time he has lost, and probably not the last if he is being realistic, but this seems to strike harder, knowing that this might have been his last shot, Oikawa’s shot, at beating their old nemesis and going to nationals. Of course it had to be him they lost to as well - again -, and if Hajime is feeling this bitter, then he can’t begin to imagine the thoughts swirling in Oikawa’s head.

The locker room is silent except for a sniffle or two, and Hajime can barely breathe under the pressure. The coach mercifully leaves them without saying anything, but if he had Hajime isn’t sure anyone would have listened anyway. Under the numbness that Hajime feels is tearing at his heart, there is also fright, fright of how Oikawa, stupid Oikawa, will handle this defeat. Afraid of what he will see Hajime has, like a coward, avoided looking to closely at Oikawa since they lost, and now his conscience is eating at him as well.

The others finish cleaning up quickly, and if Hajime could guess they are all leaving knowing their captain won’t express a single thing while in their presence, and Hajime is silently thankful. Oikawa has reacted rashly in the past and Hajime really doesn’t want a poor first year in the way of the emotions boiling underneath that beautiful skin of his.

When they have all left the air seems to get heavier, and Hajime braces himself for the storm that is about to come. Knowing that Oikawa won’t speak up first he lifts his gaze from where it has been fixed at his feet since arriving, and slowly looks over to where Oikawa stands, staring out the sole window in the changing room. But where Hajime expected to see rage, or even sadness, there is nothing. The mask is still on and it pains Hajime because he, although he would never admit it out loud, prided himself of being one of the very few people who Oikawa lets himself be himself with.

Surprising him further, Oikawa is the one to speak first, his voice as forced light as his face is devoid of emotion.
“Are you free tonight Iwa-chan?”

Hajime is startled at the question at first, not for the words themselves, but for the lack of emotion that comes with them. “Uhm, yeah I guess so?” he answers, not entirely sure where Oikawa is going with this.

“Is it okay if you stay with me tonight?” Oikawa begins, and if Hajime listens closely, and he is, he can hear the small waver to the words. “My parents are away and I … I don’t feel like being alone.”

Hajime feels relief blossom in his body, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Of course I can Shittykawa, do you even need to ask, stupid?” the words come out harshly, just like most of his words does, but he knows Oikawa gets the real message. They have known each other for so long that every small quirk that either of them do is picked up by the other. That is the way it has always been between them.

Oikawa tssks before saying in a sing-song voice, his voice not as emotionless this time; “Language Iwa-chan, otherwise the zookeepers will mistake you for a monkey and put you in the zoo_~”

Oikawa nimbly steps out of the way before Hajime's foot can crash into his skull and the exchange feels so normal that for a moment their loss feels far away.

 -------

That doesn’t last for long though, but at least long enough for them to change, walk the not so long way to Oikawa’s house, heating up some leftovers for dinner, watching one of Oikawa’s crappy favourite alien movies huddled together on the couch, and getting ready for bed. It is, when they have finally settled under the blankets, Oikawa’s bed being almost large enough for two teenage volleyball players to sleep comfortably together on, and Hajime is almost drifting off to sleep, the warmth radiating from Oikawa’s back comfortably soothing, that the shell Oikawa has built up finally shatters.

Hajime can’t make out the sounds at first, they are quiet and muffled by the pillow, but after a second there is no mistaking the sounds for anything other than Oikawa’s sobs. Tears have always been a difficult thing for Hajime to handle, not being one to easily tear up in the first place, but after having dealt with Oikawa over the years, especially when they were younger, it almost comes easy now.

“Oikawa,” he whispers, although not certain why, they are alone in the house after all.

There is no reply, not that Hajime expected any, before Oikawa turns around and buries his face in Hajime’s chest. Oikawa has always been an ugly crier, and for that Hajime has always been secretly glad, because if there weren’t even a single thing that made Oikawa at least slightly more human then he would be incredibly more difficult to be around.

There is nothing to be glad about now though, the sobs raking through Oikawa’s body causing his entire body to shake, and Hajime with his arms around him, trying to hold him together. He does not know how long they stay like this, Hajime’s arms like iron around Oikawa’s hips and shoulders, but after a while the crying eases and the only thing left is the small hiccups Oikawa is eliciting.

“I didn’t want to lose Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbles into Hajime’s tear-stained shirt, his hot lips moving against Hajime’s body burning like fire.

“Neither did I, nor anyone else on the team,” Hajime replies, his hands moving in, what he hopes, soothing circles on the small of Oikawa’s back. The skin is hot there too, burning through the thin fabric of Oikawa’s shirt. “Hey, are you feeling okay?” he asks, inwardly bashing himself that he didn’t notice sooner, pressing a hand as best as he can in their position to Oikawa’s forehead.  

“No Iwa-chan, I just lost to that ass of a volleyball player for the millionth time, of course I’m not okay,” Oikawa answers, this time a little more heat in his voice and had he not been so preoccupied with Oikawa possibly having a fever, he would have paid more attention to the way Oikawa was slipping into what Hajime liked to call his dangerous mode. Not because Oikawa is a scary person when you actually got past his shitty personality, but for the fact that Oikawa turned very unpredictable when in this mood.

“No stupid, you feel really hot, I think you might have a fever,” Hajime replies patiently.

“Oh, but Iwa-chan, I’m always hot,”

The warning bells are now churning madly inside Hajime’s head, but before he can do anything to prevent whatever Oikawa has in mind, Oikawa has shifted, rising up on his elbows over Hajime, their noses almost touching, and Hajime can feel the warmth of Oikawa’s breath mingle with his own. Dangerous indeed.

“Oik –” Hajime begins, but the rest of his words are lost as one of Oikawa’s hands wriggles itself under his shirt and slowly starts tracing his abs, beginning by his chest and then slowly sliding downward until they come upon the elastic band of his shorts. “Oikawa,” he tries again, trying not to pant as Oikawa’s hand slips teasingly under his shorts and pulling out again without touching anything that, suddenly, Hajime really wants him to touch.

“Hmm, Iwa-chan, don’t you think that I’m hot?” Oikawa whispers closely to his ear, his hot breath heating up the nerves located in Hajime’s neck, a devilish smile on his lips. Leaning closer Oikawa begins to lay small kisses over Hajime’s jaw and down to his throat.

“Oikawa, what are you doing?” Hajime says, ignoring Oikawa’s ridiculous question and the open-mouthed kisses Oikawa leaves on his throat, instead focusing at keeping his breathing under control. Oikawa’s hand suddenly stops its maddening teasing over his shorts and instead fits itself at Hajime’s hip.

“I want to forget, Iwa-chan, just for a little while. Don’t you want to forget?” Oikawa says, this time while looking Hajime in the eye, and Hajime would be lying if he said that the emotions swirling in Oikawa’s eyes weren’t the reflection of his own inner turmoil. Yes, it certainly would be nice to forget, just for a little while. So although this was probably the worst idea they had ever had, and there had been a lot of bad ideas throughout the years they’ve known each other, he can’t help but to nod slightly before tugging Oikawa’s face closer to his and pressing his lips hard against the other’s.

There is a second where Oikawa is still against his lips and Hajime is afraid he misunderstood something, but then Oikawa’s lips are moving fervently against his own and he is wrapped up in that warmth that always seems to envelop Oikawa no matter what season it is. The way Oikawa’s breath mingles with his own are making his head swim, the taste of Oikawa against him addicting.

In a way Hajime isn’t shocked that his first kiss would go to Oikawa. Every time he had tried to envision how the whole event would go down he had had difficulties imagining the girl in question. He had tried to look at the girls in his class, at his school, but never understood how they would go from absolute strangers to potential first kiss takers.

Not that he had ever imagined this either, how Oikawa’s lips are soft and smooth (probably from the chap stick Oikawa refuses to admit he carries in his bag) as he moves his lips against Hajime’s; how Oikawa’s hands are burning under his shirt as he traces his abs; how Oikawa’s breath catches as Hajime presses their hips together firmly; how Oikawa’s body feels as if it were made to fit against his; how satisfying it would feel to drag Oikawa’s shirt over his head before removing his own and be rewarded by the feel of their naked chests against each other.

No he had not imagined this at all.

As heat starts to burn through every part of his body the need to do something about it begin to increase and all at once the kisses aren’t enough, the light weight of Oikawa above him isn’t enough. In a second he has flipped them around, his body pressing Oikawa’s down into the mattress, hands roaming the expanse of Oikawa’s chest.

Oikawa moans deep in his throat when he presses his hips down hard onto Oikawa’s and Hajime thinks he might be loosing his mind when Oikawa kisses the side of Hajime’s neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive area and Hajime wonders what he ever did to deserve this.

After that it’s mostly a blur of touches, the last pieces of clothing being removed, lips on body parts, technicalities being taken care of (Hajime presses the urge to ask Oikawa why he would have condoms and lube in his bedside drawer far back into his head), bodies coming together, and mostly the distinct feeling of pleasure.

A part of Hajime clings to the hope that this is a dream for there is no way in hell they can ever go back to whatever they were before after this, but then Oikawa moans his name in pleasure when Hajime hits his sweet spot with one of his thrusts, and the other part of him that enjoys this far too much can’t hold back a moan of his own.

Almost against his will, although not his libido’s, his thrusts are becoming more and more unsteady as he comes closer to finish whatever madness they are going at. Oikawa keeps moaning his name, breathing it like a mantra timed to Hajime’s thrusts, and Hajime makes the mistake of lifting his head from where it has rested on Oikawa’s shoulder - as to muffle his own moans – and the sight is like a punch to his gut.

Has he always been this beautiful? Hajime thinks to himself as his eyes takes in the flushed face of his best friend. Even though Oikawa is sweating, much like Hajime, he is glowing and Hajime knows he will never forget this, the sounds, the movements, the way Oikawa looks pinned beneath him, flushed and needy.

Suddenly chocolate eyes stare into his own, the pleasure and - did he dare imagine it – love reflected in Oikawa’s eyes are to much for Hajime’s overstimulated body and he comes hard, one hand gripping Oikawa’s waist so hard he is sure it will leave bruises, and the other hand fisted in the sheets by Oikawa’s head. He is painfully aware of the embarrassing sounds coming out of his mouth and the way Oikawa’s nails has dug into his back, probably leaving red streaks over his shoulder blades as he reaches his peak as well, bucking his hips into Hajime’s to prolong the sensation.

Once they come down from their high Hajime pulls out of Oikawa carefully, and he is once again struck with the magnitude of what they have done. Concentrating on the more basic stuff; getting the condom off and cleaning up some of the mess made by Oikawa, Hajime tries to put off the fact that oh-my-god-we-slept-together-what-the-heck-does-this-mean conversation that is probably going to happen and what will Oikawa say and what will he answer him?

But when Hajime returns from the bathroom he finds Oikawa curled up on the bed – dressed in Hajime’s shirt –, snoring peacefully as if their whole world hadn’t been turned upside down just a minute ago. Relief floods Hajime when he realises he can put off this conversation to the morning and carefully, as to not wake Oikawa, crawls in behind him, putting his hands protectively around Oikawa’s waist, nose in his soft and way too nice smelling hair, and contently falls asleep.

 -------

When Hajime wakes up it is to an empty bed. In his still hazy state this is all very normal, Oikawa usually gets up before him - especially if Oikawa hasn’t been up all night preparing for matches – but then his mind clears and last night’s events comes crashing down on him.

Oh my god I slept with Oikawa. I had sex with my best friend. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He rushes to put his clothes on, terrified of what Oikawa has been up to while Hajime has been sleeping, and almost runs down the stairs to the kitchen before catching himself – taking a deep breath – and enters the kitchen.

For a second he can’t breathe, Oikawa’s hair is shining in the sunlight, impossibly perfect even in the morning, and then Oikawa turns around, hands filled with food and says – in a way to normal voice for what they have been doing –:
“Morning, Iwa-chan.”

He is all sunshine and radiance, and Hajime wonders if it is because he is happy for real or if it is his way of coping with the situation they have gotten themselves into. When Oikawa smiles though, Hajime knows its all pretence for that smile is nothing but fake, fake, fake.

“Morning,” he answers gruffly when he realises Oikawa is expecting an answer, and stiffly sits down on one of the chairs by the kitchen table, refusing to look Oikawa in the eye.

He has always hated this fake Oikawa, the smiles, the way he speaks, the way his voice sounds, but never as much as now, when it's directed at him. Hajime needs him to stop and the only thing he can imagine shattering that wall Oikawa has put up is bringing up yesterday. So even though every part of his body screams at him to not bring it up, it will do no good, he does anyway.

“Oi, Oikawa, about last night –“ he starts but is at once interrupted.

“What about last night, Iwa-chan? Did something special happen?”

Oikawa’s voice is all wrong and his smile is all wrong but there is something insistent in his eyes that screams “don’t bring it up, don’t bring it up”, and, as the coward Hajime is, he lets it go. He has never been any good at going against Oikawa’s wishes anyway.

“No, nothing special at all.”

And when the stiffness in Oikawa’s body disappears and the wall is let down and he starts babbling like he normally does, voice no longer tense and fake, Hajime is relieved because his Oikawa is back.

And if his heart skips a beat when Oikawa’s hand brushes his own when Oikawa sends him some of the food, then he doesn’t acknowledge it.

 -------

He and Oikawa hadn’t seen each other for the rest of the weekend, and no, Hajime told himself, it was not intentional.

When they met up at their usual spot to walk together to school it was as if nothing had ever happened between them. Oikawa was his normal self, and nothing was out of the ordinary.

Morning practice had gone exceptionally well, Oikawa had spoken about trust and new possibilities and second chances and everyone on the team got their spirits back. After some warm up laps it was decided that they would play a practice match within the team, to boost morale and have some fun before hell begun anew – as Oikawa put it.

Oikawa had been right of course. When the team finished practice and went to the locker rooms to change and get ready for school, everyone was in a happy mood, speaking loudly to each other, friendly punches being thrown, laughter and smiling faces everywhere Hajime looked. It was as if their loss never happened at all and even Hajime felt lighter than he had since Friday.

Oikawa was smiling amidst it all, relaxed now that the team was excited again, and Hajime felt his heart stop when that smile was directed at him. It didn’t stop him from smiling slightly back though.

“Nicely done, king,” he said as he chucked off his shirt and went to the showers, Oikawa hot on his trail.

“What can I say, Iwa-chan, my blinding charisma is a great source of happiness,” Oikawa chirped back, stepping into the shower next to Hajime.

Suddenly the room felt all to hot, every part on Hajime’s body felt as if on fire, not even the coldness from the shower cooling to the touch. Don’t look, don’t look.

“It’s not something you haven’t seen before,” someone says behind him and oh no how can they possibly know? It can’t be that obvious right?

“What?” Hajime croaks out, embarrassed that he is one second away from breaking apart in front of the team.

“Usually when Oikawa says something that stupid you would have punched him by now,” the voice says again and this time Hajime recognizes it as Hanamakki’s.

“Oi!” Oikawa huffs from next to him, tying a towel around his waist, obviously finished already.

“Yes, that is the beginning of your name, well done Oikawa,” Matsukawa says from behind Hanamakki and Hajime can’t help but let a small laugh escape from his mouth. Of course no one could know, he was just being jumpy that’s all.

The team snickers as Oikawa huffs again and mumbles something under his breath about “not appreciating their captain enough” while walking back to the changing area. Hajime, having finished now that his mind is on a safe path again, follows – as does the rest of the team.

“Hey, Iwaizumi-san, I didn’t know you had a cat,” Kindaichi says from behind him.

“Hmm, no I don’t,” Hajime answers absentmindedly, zipping up his pants, his thoughts on the test he has in English class straight after this.

“Oh, then where did you get all those scratch marks on your back from?”

Oikawa stiffens slightly beside him, eyes wide and unseeing, and Hajime can’t pull his thoughts together because how in the world can he explain this?

“Oh, it must be from falling out of that tree when I was helping a neighbour pluck her apples this weekend,” Hajime blurts out and prays that some of Oikawa’s skills in lying has been rubbed off on him. “The branches must have scratched me more than I thought on the way down.”

“You should be more careful Iwaizumi-san, you could get seriously harmed,” Kindaichi says reproachfully and Hajime lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yes, I will.”

Next to him Oikawa has relaxed and is now swinging his bag over his shoulder, obviously ready to go but waiting for Hajime as usual.

“Hmm, I don’t know about you Makki but those scratches look suspiciously like nails,” Matsukawa says smugly, and the ringing in Hajime’s ears are back again.

Having finished himself he flings his own bag on his back and follows Oikawa through the locker room, not bothering to say anything to Makki or Mattsun. Anything he said would be turned against him anyway.

“Yes, I think you are right Mattsun,” Hanamakki answers and continues, his eyes raised teasingly, “Don’t you think Oikawa has nice nails Mattsun?”

“Oh, indeed I do,”

Knowing his face is probably redder than a tomato, Hajime turns around and fixes the snickering pair with a hard stare.

“I fell down a tree and the branches scratched me,” he says forcefully, the words sound weak in his own ears but he doesn’t bother staying around to hear more teasing and turns back to the door, opens it, and steps out. Oikawa is nowhere in sight, but Hajime is hardly surprised.

Before the door shuts he can hear Kindaichi confused whisper to Kunimi; “But how could he be scratched by nails there?” Followed by the unmistaken laughs of the third years.

Heaving a sigh he rapidly walks away from the gym trying to catch up to Oikawa, praying that the rest of his life isn’t going to be as intense as today.

 -------

The following days run fairly smooth, the occasional jab from the other third years barely gets a rise out of him anymore, and Oikawa hasn’t shown a trace of discomfort since that first practice.

Hajime starts to wonder if maybe he imagined it all, with how normal everything is, but then one night it all comes rushing back.

They are doing homework, Hajime trying hard to focus – he needs good grades if he wants every option open until Oikawa decides where he is going – while Oikawa is doodling some ridiculous looking aliens all over his notes.

“You should concentrate, if you don’t pass then no matter how good you play volleyball it won’t matter anymore,” Hajime says when he finally tires of Oikawa’s humming and poking and him being overall distracting.

“Iwa-chan, are you my mother?” Oikawa answers, innocence written all over his face, the remark so familiar that Hajime doesn’t have the energy to react to it.  So this time he just sighs before flicking him hard on the forehead. Oikawa yelps and Hajime smiles on the inside.

“Just shut up,” he says and flips down onto his back on his bed.

God he is so tired. After that simple first practice the rest had been just as Oikawa had said, hell, and Hajime is tense all over.

Noticing his victory, Oikawa crawls up from his seat on the floor and onto Hajime’s bed, a frown on his face.

“If you don’t stop frowning like that you will get wrinkles and who will ever love you then?” Hajime says, and watches in satisfaction how Oikawa’s face flattens in a second.

“And if you don’t stop being all tense you won't be able to move anymore Iwa-chan, and who will punch me then?” Oikawa retorts, a smile on his face.

“It’s not as simple as just stop being tense though, idiot.” As soon as the words are out Hajime regrets it because oh no that look on Oikawa’s face is all too familiar and last time he faced that look …

“Don’t worry Iwa-chan, I can help you relax,” Oikawa practically purrs, and before Hajime can react – does he even want to react? – Oikawa has undone and pulled down his pants and underwear and holy shit this is totally not happening.

Still wearing that godforsaken smile of his, Oikawa slowly bows his head down and lays small kisses on Hajime’s bare thighs, hands ghosting over his already half hard length.

Hajime knows fully well that he can easily stop this, just as he could’ve stopped Oikawa the first time, but when Oikawa licks over his shaft from base to tip all his reasonable thoughts fly out the window and it takes every single bit of his willpower not to shove his dick hard into Oikawa’s mouth.

When Oikawa finally takes his achingly hard dick into his mouth after what feels like years of teasing tongue strokes and ghosting hands, Hajime moans hard; the sight of Oikawa bobbing his head up and down on his shaft so hot he can barely breathe. He watches as if in trance as Oikawa takes more and more of him into his mouth, hands fondling his balls, cheeks denting as Oikawa sucks on the tip and then further down until he is nudging the back of Oikawa’s throat and Oikawa looks up at him and he comes so hard he sees white.

And then Hajime jerks awake from his dream with soiled pants and his best friends name on his lips.

Fuck.

 -------

Later that day, when Hajime has decided that it’s not worth skipping school over such an insignificant thing as having a wet dream, he walks the familiar path to Oikawa’s house. So what if that dream is about your best friend? Oikawa is after all the only person he has had sex with, hell, he had claimed every first of Hajime’s that night, and so it was only natural that his dream would feature said person.

Actually seeing Oikawa in flesh turned out to be a little more difficult, the image of Oikawa’s hot mouth around his length still fresh in his memory, but if Oikawa noticed anything he didn’t say so.

Of course it would be at practice things would go to hell. He managed morning practice just fine, even if his spikes weren’t as sharp as they usually were or he ran faster than he had ever done in his life to beat Oikawa to the showers, but when afternoon practice came he was exhausted from a day beside his annoyingly distracting and unknowing best friend, and he started making mistakes.

First he missed to receive one of the simplest serves ever done because he was distracted by Oikawa’s ass just in front of him, the bent position Oikawa was in not helping matters at all. Then Oikawa’s fan club turned up and in a sudden and unexplainably rage Hajime spiked the ball so hard it broke one of the windows.

After apologizing profoundly to the coach, and praying that his parents wouldn’t kill him for having to pay for his stupidity, he decided to sit down and rest for a bit, not trusting himself at all. He was resting his head in his hands trying to keep out the laughter coming from Matsukawa and Hanamakki at his expense, and so he didn’t see the danger until it was standing right in front of him.

“Are you feeling alright?” Oikawa says and holds out a bottle of water. Thinking of no reason to refuse Hajime grabs it and chunks half of it down.

“I'm fine,” he grunts when he has swallowed, refusing to look Oikawa in the eye, settling instead of a spot just right of Oikawa’s head. “Just a bit tired that’s all.”

“Are you taking care of yourself properly?” Oikawa asks and Hajime barks a laugh at the irony that this time it is Oikawa caring for his health and not the other way around.

“Isn’t that my question?” he asks and dares a peek at Oikawa’s face. It was a mistake; he looks flushed and sweaty from practice and god he is beautiful.

“Well usually, but you are barely holding yourself together and I need my ace in top shape if we are going to finally beat Shiratorizawa at the spring tournament,” Oikawa says, managing to pout and sound concerned at the same time.

“I’ll be fine. Like I said, I’m just tired.”

“I can help get some of that tension out,” Oikawa says then and Hajime’s breath catches because that sounds so awfully similar to Oikawa in his dream.

No, it’s fine,” Hajime says and wills his voice to not sound as desperate as he feels. But if he thought Oikawa would listen, he was oh so wrong.

“Don’t worry Iwa-chan, Oikawa will take great care of you!” Hajime sighs at that, there is no point in arguing once Oikawa has made up his mind. He starts to regret it when Oikawa kneels down in front of him, face all too close to Hajime’s crotch, and puts his calloused hands on Hajime’s ankles, starting to move them in soothing circles while humming the theme song of one of his favourite science fiction movies.

It feels really nice. Really, really nice and Hajime has a hard time keeping his thoughts in check. Especially when Oikawa turns up to look at him, soft smile on his face and body still flushed from practice.

“Why are you being so nice all of the sudden?” Hajime asks, one part because he is curious and the other to distract himself from the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts Oikawa’s hands on his legs has brought forward.

“But Iwa-chan, I’m always nice!”

“No you’re not,” Hajime says and can’t help the small huff of amusement when Oikawa squeals indignantly, the frown he gets when he is offended present on his forehead.

“Don’t wrinkle your forehead so much, you will get premature wrinkles,” he says, still smiling, and without thinking leans forward to smooth it out with his thumb.

He hears Oikawa’s small intake of breath at the touch and suddenly Hajime realises just how close they are, close enough that Hajime can smell the sweetness of Oikawa’s breath, see all the little freckles he has on his nose, feel the warmth radiating from his body. Oikawa’s hands have stopped moving, resting on his legs, and Hajime still hasn’t removed his thumb from Oikawa’s forehead.

“Iwa – “

“Hey! Love birds! Get your asses over here so we can continue practice!” Hanamakki calls from the court, an amused smile on his face.

“Yeah, you can frickle frackle in your spare time!” Matsukawa adds, moving his hips suggestively before he and Hanamakki collapses on the floor from laughter.

They jerk apart, Hajime almost falling off the bench which only increases the laughter from the third years, and Hajime can hear Oikawa giggle as well. Hajime knows his face is a fiery red, but Oikawa doesn’t look bothered at all. And perhaps he isn’t bothered, maybe their closeness doesn’t affect him at all. The thought sits sourly with Hajime but again, he refuses to acknowledge why, and instead rises and follow Oikawa back onto court.

 -------

The good thing coming from that … is that Oikawa no longer acts as distant as before. The slight stiffness and uncertainty that had been present since that night, which probably only Hajime notices anyway – being as tuned to Oikawa as he is –, is no longer there and for most of the time Hajime is glad.

He had missed the light bantering, the name callings, the effortless way they hold a conversation, the late night studies at either of their houses, the way they almost can read each other’s thoughts when playing volleyball and the way they simply are with each other.

There are, however, a few things he doesn’t appreciate that much. Or well, a little too much.

Oikawa has always been a touchy feely person. Ever since they were little he has been like that – hugging, arms thrown over shoulders, cuddling while watching TV, cuddling while sleeping, small touches here and there to show his approval – it is all very Oikawa.

Usually Hajime doesn’t mind this, although he will never admit to that out loud, settling instead on complaining loudly before going with it anyway. But now, when Oikawa throws a hand over his shoulders after practice, it’s different.

Now he gets flustered by their proximity, of Oikawa’s smell alone, their bodies pressed together sending a different message in Hajime’s head than before. Now he stiffens when Oikawa lays a hand on his back while pep-talking, the heat seeping into him, sending waves of warmth throughout his body. Now he tenses when Oikawa lays a head on his shoulder while watching a movie, the action making his heart thud painfully, his stomach feeling heavy. Now he can barely breathe when Oikawa hugs him after winning a practice match, their bodies close together, still panting of exhaustion from the game, their closeness bringing memories to his mind. Memories he had tried to shove into the very back of his mind.

But worst of it all is watching others getting the same treatment.

There is no way to explain it other than that he is jealous. And he isn’t, because that would mean Oikawa and he are something they are not, so he files that away in his head as well, trying not to punch a wall when Oikawa lays a hand on a girl’s shoulder after she has given him some cookies she has baked. He tries not to throw something as Oikawa claps Kindaichi on the back after a practice match when he made a difficult spike, when Oikawa throws his arms over Matsukawa and Hanamakki after practice.

He can’t stand it. Knowing that all those touches he treasures more than he ever wants to admit are nothing special on Oikawa’s side. There is nothing special about Hajime and all of the sudden he can’t stand it. He would rather not have it at all than share it with everyone else.

So when he starts to pull away, he does so while ignoring the heaviness of his heart, the wrongness in his body, and most of all the hurt look on Oikawa’s face every time he leans away.

 -------

Hajime figures that without the touches his body wouldn’t crave Oikawa’s touches as much anymore. But when he wakes up for the umpteenth time with soiled pajama pants after screwing Oikawa into the mattress, he realises the problem isn’t as easily solved as he had first thought.

Logically Hajime figures the reaction is perfectly natural. After all, having no other experience other than Oikawa, of course that is the fantasy his brain chooses to use in his times of weakness. The only experience in kissing is Oikawa so when dreaming of kissing, he dreams of kissing Oikawa – perfectly normal and realistic.

The answer to his problems comes easy then. He needs another experience, another face for his brain to associate with kissing.

A month after their loss against Shiratorizawa, the solution presents itself. She is cute, Hajime thinks, as she nervously clutches a letter to her chest, a light blush dusting her cheeks. She is short, slight and looks like she would fit perfectly inside his arms, unlike someone else who is put together by long limbs and broad shoulders and yet still fit perfectly well in his arms while cuddling. But he doesn’t think about that.

“Um, Iwaizumi-san?” she asks, the slight waver in her voice betraying her nervousness.

“Yes?”

“P-please read my letter, Iwaizumi-san!” she stutters out, and she still sounds nervous but she seems to gain more confidence as he shows no signs of declining.

He takes the letter from her slightly shaking hands and before he can even say thank you she has darted away and joined her friends standing in the hall. They immediately start whispering, their heads close together and Hajime, for no reason at all, feels his neck go warm. That is, of course, the moment Oikawa decides to magically pop up, followed by the two other people Hajime wishes not to see in this moment.

“Oooh, is that a confession letter I spy in your hands,” Hanamakki says and elbows Hajime suggestively in the side.

“Well, yes,” Hajime answers and tries not to look at Oikawa too closely.

“So there is hope for you after all,” Matsukawa jokes but it’s only Hanamakki who sniggers with him. Realising he has been uncharacteristically quiet Oikawa laughs a second to late for it not to seem off.

“Aren’t you going to tell us who the poor lady is?” Oikawa says, a shit-eating grin on his face.  

“Um, I don’t know I haven’t read the letter yet,” Hajime says and feels stupid, he doesn’t even know her name. Stupid.

“Weren’t you going to?” Oikawa says and there is something in his voice that Hajime can’t place. Jealousy perhaps? But why would he, Oikawa gets more confession letters than any other guy at school.

“Yeah, but not here, I want to read it for real,” Hajime says and then he is blushing hard because wow that sounded lame. Matsukawa and Hanamakki must think so too because they burst out in a new round of laughter.

“Iwa-chan is such a gentleman,” Oikawa says teasingly, grin back in place and hadn’t it been for the strange feeling in his chest the exchange would have felt normal. Like before.

“Shut up, stupid,” he says because it has to be said but there is nothing of his usual heat behind it.

 -------

He reads the letter at lunch, Oikawa disappearing with some excuse about promising someone to taste their cookies and Hajime tells himself he couldn’t care less, which gives him the time and privacy he wanted.

It includes the usual; her name, her class, how she wishes to get to know him better, how she has admired him for awhile and that she wishes he feels the same. It is nice, the handwriting slight just like her and Hajime stares at the phone number scribbled beneath her name with a mix of dread and anticipation.

He decides to put off calling until he comes home, she probably has class after all, and he is tense with nerves for the rest of the day.

He manages well at practice anyway, working through the exercises like a machine. Hajime is surprised to see Oikawa waiting for him afterwards, having walked home by himself for the last two weeks, but Oikawa offers no explanation, just falls into step with Hajime, their silence oddly comforting.

Of course it wouldn’t last the entire way home, Oikawa clearly has something on his mind with the way he plucks at his bag and his small intakes of breath.

“Just get it out before you pluck a hole in your bag,” Hajime says brusquely, regretting it when Oikawa starts, his shoulders curling into himself slightly.

“Always such a brute Iwa-chan,” Oikawa scolds lightly, having caught himself and returned to his polished and unreadable self. The fake self, Hajime notes with disdain. Hajime doesn’t bother with an answer.

They continue on in silence before Oikawa finally speaks again.

“Are you going to accept?”

“I see no reason not to,” Hajime answers and it is the truth after all. He has no other obligations to anyone.

“She is very pretty,” Oikawa offers.

“Yes she is,” Hajime says and then, as if realising something, “don’t interfere, Oikawa.”

“Now, why would I do something like that Iwa-chan?” Oikawa says turning towards Hajime, eyes big and innocent, mock hurt in his voice.

“Because you are you,” Hajime deadpans.

“Mean, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa says and pretends to clutch at his heart. Hajime feels his lips turn upward in a smile at Oikawa’s antics. Please never change. Lifting his hand, he cuffs Oikawa over the head lightly, their first touch since Hajime started to pull away, and the contact is so familiar, regret burning in Hajime’s throat.

They continue like that, light bickering, both comforted by the other’s presence. Like they used to. But when Hajime drops Oikawa off at his house it feels like it’s the end of something.

He almost forgets the letter, and the fact that he was planning to call, only remembering it when he sees it stuck on his math homework. His decision to follow this through doesn’t feel as certain as it had at lunch but then he remembers why and resolutely presses the buttons.

 -------

Hajime doesn’t mention having a date to anyone, not wanting to hear the teasing from his friends, and so when Friday comes around and practice ends he slips into a pair of slightly nicer pants than usual, a matching sweater to go with it.

“Wow, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says from behind him, and honestly Hajime should have known they would figure it out, “you certainly clean up nicely.” Hajime tries not to fret as Oikawa circles around him, carefully looking him up and down, before humming his acceptance. “I approve.”

“I don’t need your permission, Shittykawa,” Hajime growls but is secretly happy, but only for the reason that if Oikawa approved then certainly Rin would like it as well.

“You say that but I know differently,” Oikawa says and then he is standing right in front of him and Hajime’s breath catches in his throat. They hadn’t been this close in forever.

“Oi –” Hajime starts when Oikawa’s hands go to his collar, unbuttoning his top button and smoothing down the collar so that Hajime’s collarbones are visible.

“That’s better,” Oikawa hums, and then he lifts his gaze to look Hajime in the eyes. They are almost unreadable, but god they are beautiful, the rich chocolate brown suddenly the only thing Hajime can see. “Have fun, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says and then he is gone, the only thing left is the smell of his cologne and his warm breath lingering in the air.

Hajime shakes himself of his stupor and collects himself before exiting the building. He has a date to get to.

 -------

Hyuuga Rin is nice. That is the first thought that pops into Hajime’s head when they have finished dinner and are on the way to the train stop. During dinner she had been both a good listener and a good speaker. He hadn’t talked that much though, he has never been one for words after all, but she had managed to drag some things out of him anyway.

She didn’t know much about volleyball, she had never played herself and hadn’t been interested to start either, but she had patiently listened to him going on and on about it anyway. There wasn’t much else he could talk about since that was practically all he did or thought about, but she didn’t seem to mind and for that he was happy. Maybe this could work out better than he had previously thought.

“We are here,” Rin says and brings him back to reality. He forgets that she is so small for a second and has to look down quickly as to not make her ask why he constantly walks around with his head slightly raised.

“Oh right,” he says and suddenly he feels nervous. What does she expect now? Should they kiss? Hug? What about a second date, did he ask for that now? His palms feel sweaty and his brain is cutting short. Is this a normal feeling if you are in love?

Luckily Rin seems to get his indecisiveness and steps closer, head almost bent back all the way to be able to look up at him, before a hand sneaks up and fits itself in his scarf. She pulls and he complies, bending his head down until their noses touch and then she kisses him lightly on lips, barely touching before pulling away, a blush adorning her cheeks.

That was my second kiss - or well second person he has kissed as he remembers Oikawa kissing him far more than once - he thinks and can’t help but compare the two experiences. This had been nice, chaste and cute while with Oikawa it had been hot, messy and all consuming.

“We should do that again,” she says, pecking him on the cheek before walking over to where her train waits, waving over her shoulder.

Well that answered that, Hajime thinks as he watches the train depart and starts walking back home.  

 -------

She fits into his life comfortably, perfectly content that he spends most of his time on volleyball, and for that he likes her even more.

She doesn’t complain when he has to cancel their plans because their practice takes longer than planned or when they get an unexpected practice game.

They usually spend lunch together, talking comfortably about how their days have been, she asks how volleyball is going and he asks about her interests.

Sometimes they just sit quietly, the silence comforting, both content in not having to bother to speak when there is nothing to say. It is a big contrast to how his lunches went before, the ruckus and noise all deafening when Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamakki are involved. Of course, mostly it was just Oikawa and him, but not even then were it quiet, Oikawa always having something to say, with a loud voice and a lot of gestures. Hajime doesn’t miss it. Not at all.

When one day at lunch he is extra quiet she pokes him in the leg with her foot, silently asking what the matter is.

Sighing, he runs a hand over his face before answering. “Practice has been torturous lately, spring tournament is coming up and Oikawa is relentless,” he says and just talking about it, remembering the grueling exercises the coach put them through this morning, he feels his muscles tightening in discomfort.

“Maybe you shouldn’t push yourself so hard,” she says and lays a hand on Hajime’s. He still hasn’t gotten used to the way she casually touches him sometimes, so much alike someone else he knows.

Or knew, Oikawa has been avoiding him a lot lately, only speaking to him during practice and then it’s always strained.

“Oh no, it’s fine,” he says and it is the truth after all. Oikawa isn’t the only one who is desperate to finally beat Shiratorizawa.

“Perhaps we could hang out at your place tonight instead of going out like we planned? We could watch a movie or something and you would be able to relax?” she tries to sound casual, but some nervousness and anticipation manages to shine through her voice. They hadn’t really gotten past the light pecks of that first date, and it seemed at least she was eager to move forward. Hajime didn’t really know what he felt about it but this was the reason he’d said yes to her in the first place wasn’t it, to get other experiences than the one still haunting him and practically ruining his life.

So he accepts and they decide to meet up after volleyball practice before they part for their respective classes, Rin brushing a light kiss on his cheek. He is certain there is a blush on his face as he enters the classroom and from the hoots coming from Hanamakki and Matsukawa, it shows.

“Not a word,” he says as he sits down in the desk in front of them, taking his books out of his bag.

Hanamakki and Matsukawa shares a look before Hanamakki speaks up. “We just want to make sure you know what you are doing.”

“Of course I do,” Hajime says, although he isn’t quite sure of what it is they are asking for.

“Don’t come running to us when this blows up in your face you know,” Matsukawa says and before Hajime can ask what he means by that the teacher comes into the classroom and starts todays lesson.

When he enters the gym later that day he still hasn’t figured it out but honestly, why would anyone listen to those two anyway? To his surprise Oikawa bounces over to him the minute he spots him, as if nothing ever happened.

“Iwa-chan!” he calls, excitement shining in his eyes. Oikawa is about to lay a hand on his shoulder but pauses before making contact, hand falling limp to the side. His smile defects a little at that but whatever he has to say seems to be exciting enough for him to push it aside. “I have a new idea for a flawless attack! I saw it on in a video last night and I couldn’t even sleep in anticipation to try it out, of course it needs some adjustments but I’m certain we can do it!” Oikawa is speaking so quickly Hajime has a hard time picking the words out, only a little distracted by the light radiating from Oikawa caused by his excitement.

Hajime feels exhilaration fill his body at Oikawa’s words, the prospect of a new attack making him almost as giddy as Oikawa. Not that he would let it show. Oikawa can read it easily enough though, the way Hajime stands straighter, eyes glinting in eagerness.

They tell the coach about it, or well Oikawa does and Hajime stands next to him, and he approves immediately, not that they thought he would say anything else.

The next few hours are dedicated to getting the hang of the toss, the timing of the ball, the angle, the force in the spike and in the midst of it all, the adrenalin pumping through his body, Hajime feels so content he forgets about everything else. At the end of practice, they manage to get it correct and the pure happiness sprouting through his body is making him reckless. When the coach declares that it will be enough for today Hajime throws an arm around Oikawa’s neck, the way he used to after a practice well done, and the small second in which Oikawa tenses is the only indicator that things hadn’t been quite alright lately.

Oikawa is happy too, a genuine smile on his lips for a change, and when the captain and vice-captain are happy so are the rest of the team. The spirits are high in the changing room afterwards and Hajime is brought back to the practice after their loss against Shiratorizawa, when Oikawa with the magic of his words managed to get the entire team back on track.

He truly is amazing.

It’s when the others start making plans on going out to eat and celebrate that the lump in Hajime’s stomach begins to form. He stays quiet as the others bicker back and forth on where they are going to go, and is the third years paying and other technicalities. He hangs back when they start exiting the gym and only then do they notice his sudden quietness.

“What’s up Iwaizumi-san, mad that you have to pay?” Kunimi teases. Apparently the third years lost the fight over who was paying.

“Um, I’m actually not coming –” he begins before he trails off, unsure of how much to give away.

“Oooh, someone has a date,” Hanamakki croons and the others giggle.

“Shut up,” Hajime says trying not to look at the only person not laughing.

“Come on guys, we all know it’s Iwa-chan that is missing out. We’ll have tons of fun without him,” Oikawa says and the others voices their approval.

They part ways, the team yelling inappropriate stuff after him, and Hajime tells himself that the fluttering in his stomach is due to anticipation of tonight and not due to the way Oikawa had looked when they successfully managed the new attack.

 -------

When the phone rings later that evening he can literally say he is being saved by the bell.

The night has gone smoothly, Rin turned up just as he was done showering, and they put the snacks she had brought in bowls before settling in before the TV. He lets her pick the movie, some sort of action that should be in Hajime’s interest but he finds himself bored without a single alien popping up on screen, and then she settles next to Hajime, putting her head on his shoulder. Out of habit he puts an arm around her, similarly to when he watches movies with Oikawa – especially when they are tired -  but it somehow feels off because her frame is much smaller than what he is used to.

His concentration drifts as he looses interest in the plot, silently wondering what the others on his team are doing, or if he is being honest with himself, what Oikawa is doing. He immediately feels guilty then, for thinking of something else when he should be focusing on Rin, his girlfriend.

His mind must have drifted again because the next time he refocuses on the screen the end credits are rolling and Rin is stretching like a cat beside him. He is not used to watching so silently, usually with Oikawa there are comments on everything – clothes, lines, the actors, the characters, the love – no matter if it’s the first time they watch it or the hundredth. Hajime likes to complain about it, saying it disturbs the movie, but now that he has watched without it he misses it.

“It was a great movie,” he says to fill the silence, trying not to fidget to much in nervousness. What did she expect now?

Luckily Rin is forward, just like she was on their first date, and so whatever awkwardness that could have happened because of him being untactful is never present. She leans closer, tilting her head up in a motion Hajime has recognised as her wanting a kiss and obliges.

It is just like the first and second and all the other times they have kissed, chaste, sweet and soft. As she grows bolder, raising herself up on her knees to reach him better, he wonders if that’s how it always going to be. It is nice, but that’s all there is. There is not that something more that he had experienced with Oikawa. He had first thought that they needed a few times to get it right, after all, he and Oikawa had known each other for so long that maybe kissing were a part of it too, but nothing has changed and Hajime is growing frustrated.

Shouldn’t he be more excited right now? A girl is straddling his hips on his couch, his parents aren’t home and they are kissing. It is a perfect opportunity and yet Hajime doesn’t feel it.

Or well, his libido is certainly feeling something, with her hips pressed against his and her hands in his hair, but his head is twenty miles away. She seems to like it though, if her small puffs of breath against his lips is anything to go for, or the way her hands are fisted in his hair.

“Am I going to fast?” she asks, her head resting against his forehead, their lips barely parted. She is winded, breathing hard as if she just exercised, and her eyes are shining as if this is the best thing that has ever happened to her. Hajime feels his stomach drop with guilt.

“No, it’s fine,” he answers, and then to make up for his lack of participation kisses her again, harder than before, pushing his chest flush against hers. She answers right away, pressing back and when she opens her mouth to breathe he takes the opportunity to ease his tongue inside her mouth.

She responds eagerly, her tongue meeting his softly, but there is something missing. Something about how she is too lithe, too submissive under his caress, and Hajime can’t help but wish for her to be someone else. Once he lets that traitorous thought enter his mind there is no return.

Now Oikawa sits in his lap instead and it’s hot and messy and Oikawa doesn’t let him take control that easy, no he pushes back; hips grinding down deeply, hands tugging almost painfully in Hajime’s hair. With a growl, half in pleasure and half in whatever madness is taking over his body, he flips them into a laying position, him on top, pressing down desperately.

There is a small gasp, one that is unquestionable female, and Hajime stops abruptly.

Because of course it’s not Oikawa laying beneath him, it’s Rin, staring up at him with large dark eyes. She looks flushed, and Hajime is instantly ashamed. God what must she think of him now, behaving like some sort of animal.

“I’m sorry, “ he says and starts to pull away, but is stopped by a small hand on his wrist.

“It’s okay, more than okay actually,” she says shyly, the seemingly endless blush staining her cheeks. “I was just surprised I guess. I didn’t think you felt that strongly.”

Hajime swallows thickly, hating himself some because of course she thought he had reacted that way because of her. He looks down at her small hand still grasping his wrist trying desperately to come up with something to say.

That is when he is saved. Literally. By the ringing on his phone.

“Sorry,” he says, raising himself up from his half-laying position and reaches behind him for his phone. He looks down at the screen and can’t help the small groan of annoyance, or perhaps it’s of irony, because of course it’s him calling. “I should take this, it’s Oikawa and he will probably keep calling until I answer.” He offers her an apologizing smile, or well he hopes it looks apologizing.

“It’s okay,” she says, sitting up and pulling her sweater down modestly.

He nods before answering the phone, steeling himself for whatever Oikawa has to say. Why is he even calling, he knew Hajime had a date tonight?

“What, Trashykawa,” he says brusquely, patiently awaiting the outrageously hurt answer he is going to get.

“Iwaaaa-chaaaan,” Oikawa replies and then starts to giggle uncontrollably, catching himself for long enough to wheeze out; “Iwa-chan I think I’m drunk,” before he starts giggling again.

If Hajime had thought of a worst case scenario before answering, this was probably it. Feeling vaguely sick he tries to keep himself composed although all he wants is to bust a hand through a wall.

“Why are you drunk stupid?”

“I don’t know Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whines, “Mattsun heard about a party and we went there and they had alcohol and I drank it and now I’m drunk,” he says sounding like a five-year-old ticking facts of his fingers. Which he is probably doing.

“Can’t you go bother them instead of me then?” Hajime says and mentally makes a note of beating the crap out of Matsukawa and Hanamakki the next time he sees them for coming up with this ridiculously stupid idea. And then Oikawa because he went along with the ridiculously stupid idea.

“They left me Iwa-chaaan, you are the only one I can trust.” Hajime is certain that Oikawa is pouting by this point. “You would never leave me.”

There is a wistfulness in Oikawa’s voice that makes Hajime’s heart stutter and for a second he allows himself to imagine that Oikawa wants Hajime the same way he wants him. There are a million things he would like to say but not many of them would be appropriate and all of them could probably shatter their friendship forever so he buries them deep down.

“Do you know where you are?” he asks instead, although his voice is significantly softer than before.

“Nooo,” Oikawa whines before there is silence and then the undeniable sound of someone throwing their guts up. “I don’t feel very good,” Oikawa says weakly when he is finished and Hajime would lie if he said that it didn’t pull on his heartstrings.

“It’s very well Oikawa, aren’t you the one to always nag on my “cave-man” language,” Hajime says, smiling slightly when Oikawa huffs over the line. “Stay where you are okay? I’m coming to get you.”

“Okay Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says tiredly, and then silently, “Thank you.”

It’s only when Hajime has hung up that he remembers that Rin is still here. She is sitting like she was before the conversation started, hugging a pillow to her chest. Hajime instantly feels guilty again, he really is the worst boyfriend ever.

“Sorry about that,” he says, rubbing his neck in discomfort, “I need to go get him before he does something even more stupid,” he explains, although he knows it probably sounds like a weak excuse. Only he knows the full extent of the destructing ways of Oikawa Tooru.

“It’s okay,” she says, smiling softly, “It’s late anyway so I should probably head home.” She rises from the couch and together they make their way to the door, Hajime still clutching his phone tightly as if it still connects him to Oikawa.

“I had a lot of fun,” Rin says after Hajime helped her put on her coat. “See you Monday?” she asks and when he nods she rises up on her toes to kiss him, hard, as if she has a message to convey him.

“Yeah, walk home safely,” Hajime says absently, his mind already focused on finding Oikawa.

When he thinks her far away enough for it to be polite to stop looking after her he takes out his phone again, checking where the signal came from when Oikawa called and putting up the address on Google Maps. Thank god for modern technology, Hajime thinks as he gets a hit right away on a street not too far away from here.

He starts walking briskly, letting himself show off his worry now that Rin isn’t here anymore. It’s just such a typical Oikawa thing to do, go and get drunk and probably hit on a million girls and then realise that he is way drunker than he thought and suddenly he finds himself stranded and he don’t know how to get out of whatever trouble he’s caused.

And then he gets angry, angry at Oikawa for being like this, for knowing that Hajime would leave everything and go get him, knowing that whatever he has done Hajime would patch him up and yes, Hajime would be angry, but Oikawa would know it would be because he worried him and that he would be forgiven anyway. Hajime hates how see-through he is. Oikawa probably knows about his stupid attraction or whatever it is and that is hurtful too because that means that he doesn’t feel anything back but just go with the fact that he can do anything and Hajime will be there for him.

He knows he is reaching his destination when the soft sound of a thumping base reaches his ears, the music so glaringly loud that he wonders why someone hasn’t shut down the party yet. He is afraid he will have to search the entire house, trying to find that annoying shithead in the midst of way too many drunk teenagers, but when he comes closer to the house he sees Oikawa sitting on the porch, head in his lap.

He makes a pitiful sight, hair disheveled and body slumped together, and Hajime’s heart thumps painfully at the sight because that is as close to the real Oikawa anyone other than him has seen. The one who likes to dress in threadbare old sweatpants and oversized alien sweaters when it’s just the two of them, face open and pure, soft in every sense of the word. And Hajime can’t be mad at him like this. Not when he sees Oikawa’s eyes shine up when he spots Hajime walking towards him, not when Oikawa looks so guilty, not when Oikawa whispers his name like he is his saviour.

“You came,” Oikawa says, voice hoarse, probably from throwing up so much.

“Of course, stupid, I said so didn’t I,” Hajime says, reaching out his hand down to Oikawa to help him stand. Oikawa looks at his hand for a second before clasping it with his own, skin as hot as usual, the touch burning into his very soul. When Oikawa is standing Hajime lets go of his hand quickly, but then Oikawa starts to swing uncertainly on his feet and Hajime hurries to his side to steady him, throwing Oikawa’s arm over his shoulders.

“Jeez, how much did you drink, stupid?” Hajime chides him when they start down the street, heading towards Oikawa’s house.

“Not that much,” Oikawa mumbles and must have sensed Hajime’s raised eyebrows because he continues, “at first.”

“Why would you even drink in the first place? You are always talking about how bad that is for your body,” Hajime chides and wow he really sounds like a mother.

“Iwa-chan, are you my mother?” Oikawa says predictably and Hajime cuffs him lightly on his head. Predictably.

“I guess I just felt lonely?” Oikawa offers after walking in silence for awhile.

“Lonely? Weren’t you with Matsukawa and Hanamakki? Besides you probably had a million fan girls draped over you the entire time anyway.”

“Just because I’m not alone doesn’t mean I’m not lonely,” Oikawa says, and the wistfulness in his voice is back. Perhaps it’s because he is drunk that he seems this way, or it’s something else that Hajime can’t pick up on. That thought makes Hajime instantly uneasy because he can usually read everything on Oikawa, what is it Oikawa guards so close that even he can’t make it out?

They reach Oikawa’s house then, the windows dark and the house empty – as it usually is, Oikawa’s parents always out of town for various reasons – and Hajime helps Oikawa up the stars after a “If I can’t walk on a flat street then how do you figure I can walk up the stairs”, to which he answered “god you are such a handful,” but helped him up all the same.

Hajime reluctantly help Oikawa into the bathroom, to wash his mouth and put on his pyjamas – Hajime looks away quickly when Oikawa starts stripping down right in front of him, neck burning – and then he softly tucks Oikawa into bed, the setter’s eyes barely open. Hajime lets a hand linger slightly on Oikawa’s soft hair before stepping away.

“You’re such high maintenance Shittykawa,” he says, the words harsh but his voice not. Oikawa looks so vulnerable like this, as if he has set aside all his burdens and this is what is left without them.

Oikawa doesn’t answer so Hajime figures he is already asleep, the alcohol likely speeding up the process, but when he turns to leave a hand strikes out from under the blankets and grabs his wrist.

He suddenly feels a sense of Deja Vu from earlier that evening, when another hand grasped his wrist, but this hand isn’t small and smooth, it’s large – perfect for tossing volleyballs – and has callouses from long hours of practice, just like Hajime. This hand sets his body on fire, this hand makes him feel a million things at once, this hand makes him want to stay forever, and this is the hand that makes him put the other’s need first because if he is happy then Hajime is too.

I’m in too deep.

“Please stay,” Oikawa murmurs from under the pile of blankets Hajime has put him under, his voice rough with sleepiness.

“Oik –” Hajime begins when the grip on his hand tightens. He hasn’t turned around, afraid of whatever he will see if he does.

“I know you have someone else now, I won’t do anything, Iwa-chan. Please just stay.” Oikawa’s voice is turning desperate and every cell in Hajime’s body screams at him that he needs to turn around but his brain tells him it’s a bad idea and he doesn’t know what to do. “Please Hajime, I don’t want to be alone.”

It’s his name that decides it. The way Oikawa’s voice is vulnerable and weak, not at all like the star Hajime knows he is, shining bright in everything he does – from volleyball to school or simply existing – and Hajime succumbs to his body, his heart. There is no way he can leave Oikawa alone anyway so he can just begin getting used to having almost all of Oikawa.

And somehow, when he slips into bed behind Oikawa, putting his arms around Oikawa’s waist, the other boy pressing back so that they touch tightly from tip to toe, Hajime’s face in Oikawa’s curls, inhaling that wonderful smell that comes from Oikawa’s way to expensive shampoo, that is not nearly enough.

Being this close and not having it all must be the most painful thing there is.  

 -------

It’s Monday again and Hajime feels like a zombie. He didn’t get much sleep on Friday, his body constantly tense at being so close to it’s deepest desire, and then the rest of the weekend he spent catching up on homework. He has been pushing himself in every subject trying his hardest to get high enough grades so that if his volleyball skills don’t grant him entrance to whatever University Oikawa is choosing, then perhaps he can get in by his grades instead.

He almost forgets that he is supposed to have lunch with Rin, but catches himself in the last minute, only a few minutes late to their meeting spot. With everything happening since their date she had been the last thing on his mind. This experiment of his was turning out to be a fluke, there hadn’t been a second where she had managed to take over the Oikawa part of his mind, or even touch it, so in all honesty he should just call it quits. It’s not nice to her, stringing her along like this, but he is afraid of what it will mean if he breaks up with her. He is still terrified of his own feelings, afraid of what they will mean for the relationship he values more than anything in this world.

Rin, however, doesn’t seem to notice a thing, chatting away about something Hajime hasn’t paid attention to, and so he is startled when she suddenly stops talking.

“Do you think -,” she starts before faltering, a blush spreading on her face. He waits patiently for her to regain her confidence, stuffing his face with some food, and is rewarded almost immediately. “Do you think I could come to your practice this afternoon? I would love to see you play,” she says in a rush, still blushing prettily.

Hajime pauses for a second, the hand holding his drink stopping mid-air, before realising he has been silent for too long.

“It’s fine, I don’t have to, I just thought -,” she almost trips over her words in her haste to explain herself and Hajime feels ashamed. Why does it feel like such a big deal anyway? It’s just practice, it’s not like she asked him to marry him or something. But practice is his sanctuary, where he can express his feelings through his spikes, where he can still pretend he and Oikawa are just fine.

“No, of course you can come,” he assures her, ignoring the bitterness in his throat. She smiles then, big and happy, and Hajime is once again reminded that this is good. She is good. “It starts at four, so don’t be late,” he says and then gathers his things for class. He stands and seeing her expectant face, bends forward and kisses her lightly before hurrying off.

 -------

Oikawa is not happy. Which probably is an understatement when Hajime tries to call for a toss and is ignored. Again.

When he had entered the gym with Rin by his side most of his teammates had been excited. Most of them hadn’t met her before and were curious as to see who had been able to catch their gruff ace’s attention. All of them, except Oikawa.

He had met her before of course, although Hajime still wants to erase that instance from his memory, the disgusting fake smile on Oikawa’s lips not something he wants to remember, so he really has no reason to pause his stretching. Hanamakki and Matsukawa also seems a little distant, sending Hajime disapproving looks now and then from where they stand together with Oikawa.

It becomes apparent though, when Oikawa finally sends a perfect toss his way and Hajime successfully spike it over the net and there is a loud cheering from the bench to which Hajime waves at, that Oikawa is not pleased at all.

“Your spike was a little low, the blockers could have easily stopped it,” Oikawa says icily before glancing off to where Rin sits and watches excitedly, “perhaps you shouldn’t bring such distractions to practice, Iwa-chan,” his voice sounding the way he talks when he mocks their opponents. Wrong.

“Don’t be such a hypocrite, asshole, as if you’ve never had girls here cheering you on,” Hajime says, getting more pissed off by the second. He can’t decide though, of whether he is mad at himself for creating this unnecessary situation or Oikawa for being the way he is. Probably a little bit of both. The rest of the team, having taking a brunt of Oikawa’s bad mood as well, looks like they agree with Hajime’s first theory.

Oikawa tssks before replying, his face a mask of indifference, “I can at least play while they are here, you barely function at all.”

All the pent up frustration boils in his body and before he can stop himself he has shoved Oikawa hard against the wall, their faces inches away. Their bodies are flushed together and Hajime’s frustration increases when he can feel his body react to the pressure of Oikawa’s hips against his.

“Come on, hit me then,” Oikawa says, venom lacing his voice, practically spitting the words in Hajime’s face. But there is no anger in his eyes, and if Hajime wasn’t so occupied by Oikawa being shitty – or being stubborn himself –, he would have seen the hurt in them. But he doesn’t so he just presses harder, probably hard enough to bruise, and Oikawa let’s out a small whimper of pain, barely audibly but it’s enough and that shakes Hajime out of whatever madness that compelled him.

In a second he has let Oikawa go and is running out of the gym, the hurt in Oikawa’s eyes burning in his mind. He can hear the team behind him, gathering around Oikawa to see if he is okay, hears Oikawa telling them that everything is fine and Hajime feels the bile in his throat because no, everything is not fine. He hears Rin calling to him as he rushes past but he can’t look at her, can’t see the disgust in her eyes, the disgust probably mirrored in all of his teammates, the disgust he feels at himself. So he just sprints past, runs all the way to his house, up the stairs, into his room and flops down onto his bed.

He is happy his parents aren’t home as he screams into his pillow, all the emotions he can’t untangle in his head gushing out of him. He is still hard, and that is what disgusts him more than anything. That he could treat his friend, his best friend, like utter garbage and still remember, desiring, the way they fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

Hating himself he brings a shaking hand down his abdomen, slipping beneath his sweats and boxers, gripping around himself. He tries to imagine Rin underneath him, her lips swollen from kisses, her face flushed, her small hands on his body, the way her kisses would be soft and sweet. He would cup one of her breasts in his hand, the other trailing down her soft skin until coming down between her legs, and she would beg him to continue.

But it is not Rin’s voice he hears when he moves his hand up and down his shaft, it is not her curved body he is caressing when he moans into his pillow, it is not sweet kisses, but hot and wet and devouring ones when he ruts against his hand, it is not long hair he imagines running his hands through when his body starts shuddering and it is not her name that he groans when he comes, hard and wetly against his sheets.

He lays without moving, grossed out at himself and so lost, that he barely hears the front door open and his mother coming home, calling out for him to come down and help her with the groceries. With a start he jumps out of his filthy bed, taking the dirty sheets with him to the bathroom where he quickly cleans up and changes underwear and pants. He shuffles down the stairs heavily, trying his best to repress the urge to cry.

“Hajime, what took you so long?” his mother scolds before turning around. He must not have done a good job in hiding his feeling for her face turns loving and sad in a second. “Oh, Hajime, has something happened?”

And just like that the flood is open and he can’t hold back the sob that tears through his throat. His mother’s arms encircle him and he curls into the embrace, feeling like a five-year old, and let’s himself release all the confusing feelings he has felt the last couple of months. He is faintly aware that his mother leads him to the living room, setting him down on the couch, still holding him tightly, hands softly running through his hair, humming soothingly under her breath.

After a while he feels himself calming down, his eyes feeling stiff from all the tears and his head pulsating with pain, and he softly entangles himself from his mother.

“Do you want to talk about it?” his mother asks hands still carding through his hair, the motion soothing and calming.

“I don’t know where to start,” he says, and it’s true. He is a mess.

“Does it have something to do with Tooru-kun?” she asks and Hajime wonders sometimes at his mother’s perception. He doesn’t need to answer though, his face falls at the question and his mother hums in understanding.

“How did you know,” he wonders, has he been that see-through?

“He hasn’t been around as much as usual but I figured perhaps you were busy or something, you’ve never fought before,” his mother says and the words bring back the lump in his throat.

“He will never forgive me,” he says brokenly, knowing he sounds pathetic but being unable to stop it.

“Oh honey, of course he will. Whatever you did can’t be that bad can it? I’m sure he will forgive you,” she says and Hajime hugs her tightly, trying to convey all his love for her in that single motion.

“I think I love him,” he whispers into her chest, and saying it out loud feels oddly comforting, the relief at finally admitting it easing into his body.

“And I’m certain he loves you too,” his mother says, the fact that her son admitting to loving a boy not fazing her at all. She probably knew all along anyway.

“Not the way I want him to.”

“You won’t know that until you ask him.”

She is right of course. But how could he ever endanger their friendship like that? They sit together like that until Hajime’s father comes home and together they all cook Hajime’s favourite dish for dinner and Hajime feels like maybe things will not be okay but at least he can do something to make them better.

 -------

The first thing he does when coming back to school again the next day is search for Rin. He has let this idiot farce of his go on for far too long and it’s not fair to anyone to let it continue.

He finds her outside the school building, chatting with her friends, looking as perky as ever. They don’t notice him until he is almost standing right next to them, clearing his throat to make himself noticed.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asks, feeling dread pool into his stomach at what he have to do. She might not be what he wants but she is still a great person and Hajime feels really bad about the whole ordeal.

“I know what you are going to say,” she says once her friends have left them to go inside the school. “I guess I should’ve known, people always talk about you two as a unit,” she says and there is something in her voice that Hajime can’t decipher, but it’s not sadness. “I watched the Inter High prelims,” she continues and Hajime raises his eyebrows in surprise, he hadn’t known that, “and on one of your games the team of Karasuno sat in front of my friends and I. They were discussing the smoothness of your transitions, and I remember because I thought the same – although I didn’t know what it was called – and one of the boys – black haired – said something about you and Oikawa being linked, both mentally and physically.”

She laughs slightly after that, as if she is annoyed at herself, and Hajime wants to say something to ease her but his head is wrapped around the fact that Kageyama had said something like that. He can’t let go of the feeling that the words sound so right.

“So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at this development, my friends even warned me from doing anything,” she says and laughs again, a bit strained this time and Hajime is horrified to see that she has tears in her eyes.

He still doesn’t know what to say, but he knows he has to say something, so even though he knows it will sound weak it’s the only thing he can say.

“I’m really sorry, this wasn’t at all how I wanted it to turn out.”

“I believe you, I really do. I don’t really think badly of you Iwaizumi, I just wished I hadn’t liked you so much.” Again she doesn’t sound sad when she says it, more like she has met an undeniable fate. Somehow that makes it worse, that she figured this was how it was going to go, and he feels even more guilty for dragging her into this.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and adds, although he isn’t sure if it’s nice of him or not, “You are really nice, I’m sure you will find someone more worthy of your affection.”

She smiles faintly at that but recovers quickly when the bell rings to indicate that class is starting.

“Don’t think so lowly of yourself,” she yells as she runs inside, “and don’t be afraid to pursue those you love,” she adds with a wink and again Hajime is struck with how nice she is, even in a position in which she is sad. He slowly shakes his head as he enters the building heading for his first class, wishing he was brave enough to take her advice.

Hajime doesn’t have any classes with Oikawa before lunch so he doesn’t get an opportunity to apologise until lunch. He hasn’t eaten with Oikawa and the others in weeks, having eaten with Rin instead, so he feels a bit nervous about going to his normal eating spot on the roof, wondering what reaction he might get.

Hajime thought about calling Oikawa, but then put it aside because it didn’t seem sincere enough, and then he thought about going over to his place but he had taken one look at his shaky appearance and shut down that option in a second. So now he is left uncertain as to where they stand and if he is even welcome back to eat with them. He tries to ignore the fluttering in his stomach as he makes his way up the stairs and as he is hesitating by the door, but then he is pushing it open and the noise is enough to interrupt any conversation that is taking place.

The first thing he looks for is Oikawa. Even before realising his love for him he would have looked for Oikawa, a built in motion rubbed in over the years they have been friends. He looks fine, but again, Oikawa almost always looks fine, his mask an almost constant part of his appearance.

They don’t say anything, Oikawa having paused mid-sentence of explaining something to Hanamakki, the latter paralyzed with food halfway to his mouth. Matsukawa just casually looks him up and down, Hajime isn’t sure what he is looking for but when he doesn’t look too angry Hajime think it as a positive thing.

“Hey,” he says when no one else says anything, not that he expected them to. He is the one who fucked up after all.

“Aren’t you going to eat with your girlfriend?” Oikawa asks after another minute of silence, but there is no force behind his words, just a plain question. Somehow that makes it worse, he wants Oikawa to be mad at him, to scream, fight, hit him or anything rather than the apathetic look he has over him now.

“We, um … I broke up with her,” he says, not knowing of whether he was the one to break up or her, it was a bit unclear.

But the reaction on Oikawa is immediate, his face returning some of the repressed feelings, now looking more open, more like the face he has when he is comfortable with the people around him. Hajime sure as hell doesn’t deserve it but he is happy about it nonetheless.

“Oikawa, I’m so sorry about yesterday –” he starts, coughing around the lump in his throat, the fear of being rejected still present. But he is interrupted by a flying Oikawa coming towards him. For a second all he sees is brown, brown eyes and flurry brown hair, and then he is aware of the fact that Oikawa is hugging him and it takes all his power in his body not to cry.

He does allow himself a small sigh, only noticeable by Oikawa, before returning the hug fiercely, burying his face in the juncture between Oikawa’s shoulder and neck, whispering “I’m sorry” under his breath like a mantra. Oikawa’s shoulders shake slightly, as if he too is repressing sobs, and Hajime feels whole in a way that he hasn’t since Oikawa started to disappear from his life.

When Matsukawa coughs a while later Hajime reluctantly lets Oikawa go, but looks into Oikawa’s eyes before turning away, making sure Oikawa truly is okay. Oikawa nods slightly at the steady gaze and Hajime sits down relieved, although he feels as if he got away to easy, and when Oikawa sits down right next to him like before -  stealing some of his bento – and starts chatting away over some ridiculous subject that he deems interesting for today, Hajime is more content than ever.

 -------

The next couple of weeks pass in a blur of volleyball practice and homework. Exams are coming up and Hajime needs to ace all of them to make absolutely sure he can follow Oikawa anywhere he chooses to go.

And then there is volleyball. The Spring Tournament is only days away and Hajime can’t help but both anticipate and fear it; this is their last chance at beating Shiratorizawa, of going to nationals. They have to make it.

But they don’t.

They don’t even go to the finals after being beaten by none other than Karasuno. It makes it all worse in a way, because now they are not only loosing nationals, loosing their shot at beating Shiratorizawa, but they have to lose against Kageyama.

Last time Hajime had been worried about Oikawa, and Oikawa’s reaction, hadn’t even thought about his own more than the obvious sadness, but this time he is the one to crumble.

What kind of an ace am I?

Last time he hadn’t heard the noise around him, but this time around it is as if his hearing has gotten a thousand times better, every breath and movement of the people around him roaring in his ears.

What kind of an ace am I?

Last time he had thought that was a bad loss. That it was the end of something. But it hadn’t been and so it had been easier to recover from, knowing that they’d get another shot. But now they blew that too and oh how this is a million times worse than the last time.

What kind of an ace am I?

Last time he had been afraid of looking at Oikawa because it might trigger his own sadness, and then he had needed to be strong for both of them, if the captain crumbled it would have looked bad to later tournaments. But this is the last tournament so Hajime doesn’t have to keep Oikawa up, not for team morale anyway. This time he is afraid to look into Oikawa’s eyes and see the blame in them, for not scoring enough points, for not blocking well enough, for not being good enough.

What kind of an ace am I?

Last time the team had left the changing room to leave Oikawa alone and this time he doesn’t even remember leaving the court, doesn’t notice entering the changing room, doesn’t notice if anyone tries to speak, doesn’t notice anyone being there at all. His vision is foggy and his mind is foggy and,

What kind of an ace am I?

There is a light touch on his knee and he makes the blurry connection that he is sitting down, probably on the floor, and if the cold against his back is anything to go by he is leaning against a locker. Then he remembers the touch and he looks down at his leg, his mind feeling as if it’s filled with mud, every connection made in his body seemingly slower. His ears are still ringing and the only thing he can focus on are the mantra in his mind,

What kind of an ace am I?

The touch is harder this time, more insistent, and a person Hajime didn’t notice before is crouching before him, their chocolate eyes somewhat recognizable in Hajime’s blurry mind. Oikawa his mind offers. It’s Oikawa.

What kind of an ace am I?

There is a wet sensation on his cheeks and he realizes that he is crying, and then there is a wet feeling on his legs too and he realizes that the other person, Oikawa, is also crying. He is saying something too, repeating it with desperation in his voice and something in his mind clicks; this person is important and needs to be reassured.

Slowly his senses are coming back, the roaring in his ears fading until he finally can make out the words being frantically whispered to his numb body.

“Iwa-chan, please answer me,”

“Hajime,”

“Hajime!”

He snaps awake then, air easing out of his lungs, the feeling in his body returning, his gaze steadying. Oikawa is kneeling in front of him, eyes desperate and pleading, one hand grasping Hajime’s shirt – as if to shake him awake – and the other is cupping his cheek, warmth easing into him at the touch.

Oikawa seems to notice that he is somewhat returning to himself as well because he stops repeating his name and instead let’s his head fall forward and bury itself in Hajime’s chest, hands falling limply down to lay beside Oikawa’s sides. Hajime misses the warmth.

“You scared me to death,” Oikawa says, voice muffled against the material of Hajime’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Hajime says, voice gruff with emotion.

Oikawa raises his head at that, face obviously upset. “You don’t have to apologise- “

“I’m sorry for not being enough,” Hajime interrupts, and once the words are out he can’t stop them, they are pouring out of him without thinking. “I’m sorry for making us lose, I’m sorry for not being good enough, I’m sorry for crushing your dream to go to nationals, I’m sorry for not being the ace you need,” he says in a rush, wanting to add, “I’m sorry for distancing myself, I’m sorry for falling in love with you”.

“Not being the ace I need? What are you talking about, your fault? Weren’t you the one to literally bang into my head that there is no I in team Hajime?”

“If it weren’t for me you would have gone to Shiratorizawa and you would have been to nationals a billion times by now. You would’ve had an ace who could spike your every toss in perfectness, never being afraid of it making it past the blockers” Hajime says flatly and once he says it he realises that this fear has been present for a long time. That Oikawa would regret coming to Aobajōsai instead of Shiratorizawa, regret being with Hajime, tossing to him. Oikawa could’ve had it all without him.

There is a sharp inhale and then an even sharper pain in Hajime’s cheek, stinging like getting thousand bug bites at the same time. He realises that Oikawa must’ve slapped him, the thought so hard to grasp that Hajime only sits there silent, in shock. Oikawa’s gaze finds his though, and Oikawa’s eyes are burning, the fury and something else Hajime can’t decipher making them truly intimidating.

“How dare you even think that?” Oikawa hisses, his hands coming up to cup Hajime’s face, the touch so contrastingly soft against his harsh words that Hajime doesn’t know what to think.

“You love volleyball,” Hajime says, not asking, just merely stating a fact.

“So what? You think I’m not capable of loving more than one thing, is that it? That because I’m so depraved of love means that me loving volleyball is all I have room for? That my heart is so small that I can’t fit more than one thing in there?” Oikawa isn’t shouting, but there is enough force in his words that he doesn’t need to.

“You deserve to go to nationals, you deserve to win and I can’t stand being the one who stands in your way.” Hajime isn’t shouting either but it still make Oikawa flinch.

“Stand in – god you are so fucking dense Hajime,” Oikawa says and it makes Hajime snap out whatever melancholy that has taken over him because Oikawa doesn’t swear, considers it to be savage and stupid, but he did. “I wouldn’t want to go to nationals if you weren’t going too, I wouldn’t want to win if you weren’t there winning with me. You don’t stand in my way, you are my way.”

“What – “

“I love you, can’t you tell?” Oikawa says and there is a hopeless desperation in his word that makes Hajime stop breathing. The way Oikawa stares him down, eyes on fire, doesn’t help either. “I have been in love with you since middle school - and probably before that too but I just didn’t realise it – and I have been trying so hard to not make you see it because nothing means more than our friendship and I was happy as long as we were together – it didn’t matter in what way. But then we lost again and I messed up so bad, but I just wanted you so much and you were so close and you had never pulled away from me before so I took a chance because I was selfish.”

“Oik – “

“No please let me finish, I need to tell you this okay?” Oikawa almost begs and Hajime has never been able to tell Oikawa no anyway so he just nods. Oikawa takes a breath before continuing, his voice slightly wavering.

“And then you started acting weird, even pulling away from those small touches that used to define our relationship, and I knew I had fucked up. Fucked up really badly. But I thought that it would be fine, because we are Oikawa and Iwa-chan, and we don’t fight. And then you got a girlfriend and that sent the point across pretty good.” Oikawa laughs slightly at that – the tears in his eyes taking all the humour away - and it makes Hajime sick, sick for hurting his best friend, sick for playing a game with something that clearly wasn’t. “So no, I haven’t ever regretted not going to Shiratorizawa, and I never will because playing volleyball with you has been so worth it, being with you has been so worth it. I love you.”

“I love you, Hajime.” Oikawa says the last part almost as in trance, that he is just now realising what that means. He isn’t moving from his kneeling position, hasn’t moved his hands from where they cradle Hajime’s face, but there is a twitch, and uncertainty to him now, hesitant to how Hajime will react.

Oikawa loves him. Hajime can’t really grasp it.

But he knows the answer. The answer that has been there all along, probably even before they slept together, although then he couldn’t define the line between friends and lovers, a line they have been stumbling on for so long.

“I love you too,” he says and watches Oikawa’s expression turn into disbelief.

And then he leans forward and kisses him.

At first Oikawa is too shocked to comprehend what is happening, but when Hajime presses a little firmer, lifting his limp hands from the floor and sets them on Oikawa’s hips, there is a tiny gasp coming from Oikawa, sounding like a mix between a sob and a laugh.

Their kisses aren’t like the first ones, when they were desperate and hurried – afraid that the spell over them would snap at any second, ruining the moment and making it all stiff and awkward – no these are soft, searching and loving, every movement another conveyed emotion.

When they break away to catch their breath they are both crying, Hajime refusing to acknowledge it when Oikawa points it out, and Hajime feels so happy he could burst.

“Is it bad that I feel this happy so shortly after we lost and all our dream’s were shattered?” Hajime whispers.

“I told you, all our dreams weren’t shattered, just one of them,” Oikawa answers, his shining smile the best thing Hajime has ever seen.

“Since when were you such a smartass,” Hajime huffs, poking Oikawa in the side.

“Since when were you such a sap Iwa-chan,” Oikawa retorts and flails when Hajime’s pokes turn into full out tickling.

 -------

When Hajime has finished punishing Oikawa they finally drag their asses out of the locker room, although slow because they have to pause every second to push the other up walls and make-out, but later rather than sooner they are on they way home, their shoulders bumping together as they walk. Their hands brush together every now and then, sending sparks through Hajime’s body.

Without saying a word - it’s not needed - they both head over to Oikawa’s house. There is a slight nervousness coating the air, mixing with the anticipation, because last time they did this they were half drunk on sadness and desperation. This time it would mean something else.

But when Oikawa leads him up the stairs and into his room, shutting the door and simultaneously pulling of his jacket, there is no nervousness. No stiffness of awkwardness. They are so in tune with each other, each other’s bodies, that there really is nothing strange about it.

They take longer than last time, both because the first time is almost always quick, the sensations so raw, but also because this time they want to make an impression, wants to remember the way their bodies fit together, how they sound, how they look, intent on making it pleasurable.

Like how Oikawa likes it when Hajime kisses him on the neck, bruising him with his teeth; like how Oikawa’s eyes gets half lidded when in pleasure; like how every sound coming out of Oikawa’s mouth turns Hajime on like nothing else; like how Oikawa’s body rises with pleasure when Hajime curls his fingers inside him just right; like how Oikawa’s mouth around his cock feels a million times better than in his dream.

But the sensations are all the same, the heat and tightness of entering Oikawa making his brain shut down, it taking his every willpower to keep from thrusting in too fast. And when Oikawa is ready he takes it nice and slow, watching every flick of emotion on Oikawa’s face, memorizing how he looks in the throes of passion, watches him hiss in impatience at Hajime’s slow pace, thrusting his hips up to meet Hajime’s, touching Oikawa’s throbbing cock slowly and in pace with his thrusting, taking every moan into his mouth as he kisses him.

After a while his own impatience win over and he goes faster, harder, all to the will of Oikawa, and when he bites down on Oikawa’s neck while simultaneously pushing into him, hitting all the right spots, Oikawa comes hard; moaning Hajime’s name over his breath, eyes tightly shut and nails digging hard into Hajime’s shoulders. He follows right after, his thrusts becoming irregular and weak, face buried in Oikawa’s neck as he groans “Toruu” brokenly, before carefully slipping out of Oikawa and flipping down on the mattress beside him – body limp with both pleasure and exhaustion.

Oikawa lays his head on Hajime’s chest, their legs tangling together under the blanket Hajime’s pulls up to cover their shuddering bodies, Hajime wrapping his arms around Oikawa’s body to keep him close.

“Are you really tired?” Hajime asks a bit into their cuddling, shivering when Oikawa’s breath fans out over his collarbones.

“Already desperate for a second round Iwa-chan?” Oikawa teases before pushing their hips together, rolling and pressing, until Hajime is indeed very desperate for a round two.

“No stupid, although now I am,” Hajime rumbles, trying not to think to hard about having Oikawa’s mouth on his cock again. “I was just thinking it’s only five in the afternoon.”

“Really?” Oikawa asks, raising his head from Hajime’s chest and gazing down at Hajime with those shining brown eyes of his. “Then what should we do to pass the time,” he asks rhetorically while trailing a finger over Hajime’s abdomen and downwards, the touch burning into Hajime’s already hypersensitive body.

With a growl he has turned them around, Oikawa laughing at his impatience before it turns into a moan when Hajime’s mouth envelops his cock.

After that time is just a blur, spent discovering each other’s bodies in this new way – trying to make some food without burning anything because their attention was thwarted; taking turns showering because “No, stupid, it’s dangerous! What if I drop you?” which later turns into moans when Oikawa sneaks into his shower and wraps his hand around his cock because “we don’t have to have sex for it to be pleasurable Iwa-chan”; washing each other’s hair and bodies – all before tucking themselves in in Oikawa’s bed, to tired to do anything other than wrapping themselves around each other.

“Are you asleep,” Hajime asks, his face buried in the wet mess of Oikawa’s curls. They smell familiarly of his shampoo, like Oikawa.

“You get unusually talkative after sex Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbles into Hajime’s chest and Hajime blushes at the easy way Oikawa throws around the word “sex”. “Are you uncomfortable with the word “sex” Iwa-chan?” Oikawa snickers which only makes Hajime blush even harder. Damn Oikawa and his stupid people sensing skills.

“Sex, sex, sex,” Oikawa chants before he is abruptly shut up when Hajime’s mouth descends onto his.

“Shut up idiot,” Hajime growls softly when he has made his point and Oikawa settles into his chest once more, a content smile on his face. Hajime stares down at him silently, tracing the slope of Oikawa’s hips visible through the blanket, his chest rising and falling lightly with every breath, his face pure and happy.

“I’m aware that I’m pretty Iwa-chan, you don’t have to blatantly stare at me like that,” Oikawa says but the words aren’t said reproachfully, more like he is pleased with the situation.

“Way to spoil the moment idiot,” Hajime answers, ignoring the pitched “as if saying idiot doesn’t spoil the moment you brute” before continuing, “Are you sure this doesn’t hurt?” indicating the purpling bruises left on Oikawa’s neck. Oikawa looks confused for a second before realising.

“Not at all Iwa-chan. Besides I rather like them, shows that I’m a taken man and all.”

Hajime smiles at that, the fact that Oikawa is with him now, and he lightly massages one of the bruises with a finger, feeling encouraged when Oikawa hums softly under his breath.

“Have you heard what Kageyama said about us before the Inter High prelims match we played against them?” Hajime asks, the fact that someone as oblivious to everything that isn’t volleyball could see them and their relationship so clearly.

“No,” Oikawa says, tone inviting and curious, urging Hajime to continue.

“He said that you and I were linked, both mentally and physically,” he says, the words still triggering that feeling of rightness he felt when he first heard it.

“Wow, that was unusually insightful for someone who only thinks about volleyball,” Oikawa says, but Hajime can hear the pleasure in Oikawa’s tone over the words.

“That was what I thought too.”

“Hmm, maybe we are linked then,” Oikawa says, sounding happy with the thought.

“We were certainly linked physically earlier,” Hajime answers suggestively and grins when Oikawa snorts at the reply.

“I seriously doubt that was what poor Tobio-chan had in mind,” Oikawa says and they both shudder at the thought. “How did you find out anyway? Did he tell you?”

Hajime doesn’t particularly fear the question but he answers carefully anyway, not wanting to trigger anything. “Rin told me actually, apparently she sat behind them at the game. She told me when I broke things off.”

Oikawa stiffens for a second at the name, but the light kisses pressed on top of his head and the hand running lovingly over his neck makes him relax. “That does sound more probable than Tobio-chan telling you to your face. I have a hard time picturing that.”

Hajime huffs a laugh at that, feeling himself grow more and more drowsy. As if reading his mind, perhaps they were linked for real after all, Oikawa exhales deeply and buries himself even more into Hajime, a clear sign that he too is slowly descending into unconsciousness.

“I’m tired,” Oikawa mumbles, barely audible.

“Then sleep, idiot,”

“Rude Iwa-chan!”

“Then sleep, darling,” Hajime jokes and laughs when a bony finger pokes him in his ribs. “Okay, no darlings then.”

“You can call me Toruu,” Oikawa whispers softly and Hajime’s breath whooshes out of him, mouth in a perfect O before relaxing into a smile.

“Good night Toruu,” he says softly.

“Good night Hajime.”

 -------

This is a really bad idea. A really bad idea. If only Oikawa hadn’t looked so damn hot in his volleyball shorts, if only Oikawa had a sense of restraint when in public, then maybe they could’ve avoided this situation altogether.

But Oikawa did look damned hot in his volleyball shorts and Oikawa did not have a restraint when in public places, which was how they came to be half naked and achingly hard in the locker room after practice.

Hajime has Oikawa pressed up against his locker, gaze half lidded with desire, hickeys lining his throat, his volleyball shorts barely covering his straining cock, nails buried in the flesh on Hajime’s back that, since the weeks they have been together, haven’t gotten any time to heal. Not that he is complaining.

He certainly isn’t complaining when Oikawa kisses him hot and open-mouthed, their tongues gliding together in perfect harmony. He certainly isn’t complaining when Oikawa presses their hips hard together, whispering hotly that he’s got extra lube and condoms in his locker for emergencies like these. And he certainly isn’t complaining when Oikawa slips a hand into his shorts and boxers and lightly runs his hands over Hajime’s arousal.

That is the situation taking place when the door suddenly bangs open and half of the Aobajōsai team stands in the doorway. There is a moment of silence where everyone takes in the state of things before there are several yells of outrage.

“Oh for goodness sake I thought we told you to keep your lovemaking to private places,” Hanamaki groans, trying to cover his eyes at the sight in front of him. Matsukawa tries to get the other’s moving, his hands also covering his eyes.

“As happy as I am that you finally sorted stuff out, you really need to stop doing this,” Matsukawa adds.

“I’m going to have nightmares after this,” Hajime hears Kunimi whine as he quickly shuffles out of the doorway, dragging a stunned Kindaichi with him.

Matsukawa and Hanamakki gives them one more disapproving look before shutting the door, the last thing coming through is the partly disgusted and excited voice of Kindaichi;

“So that’s how Iwaizumi-san got scratches on his back,” followed by the entire team groaning in reply.

Once everyone has left he turns back around to Oikawa, who of course doesn’t even look a tiny bit affected by their interruption, and is smiling wildly.

“So now the whole team knows,” he says cheeringly, not fazed at all by the fact that his hand is still in Hajime's shorts, and were for the entire happening.

“You are incredible, you know that,” Hajime says, blushing furiously from head to toe.

“Thank you!”

“It wasn’t a compliment, stupid.”

“Always so mean Iwa-chan!” Oikawa pouts before it turns into a devious smile, and Hajime knows to fear that smile. “But now that they know we are here they won’t come in again,” he says thoughtfully.

“So?”

“Sooo, my incredibly dense boyfriend, we don’t have any reason to stop,” Oikawa says before returning to his maddening stroking of Hajime's cock.

Although this still is a really bad idea Hajime can’t help but reciprocate. He never did know how to say no to Oikawa after all.

                                                                                                 fin