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Oikawa stares at the grainy pixels on his laptop. Iwaizumi’s familiar viridian gaze is warm even through the screen, his smile as boyishly charming as ever.
There is movement on Iwaizumi’s side of the call, something black and fluffy padding in front of the camera and pawing at him, demanding attention.
It’s happening again – the goddamn fluffy bastard is interrupting their conversation.
Iwaizumi huffs out a laugh at the cat on his desk and reaches out to offer her a fist. She bumps her head against it and meows, her fluffy tail swishing in approval as his fingers scratch behind her ear. “That’s my girl.” Iwaizumi coos, and Oikawa’s heart squeezes in the confines of his chest, affection and fondness blossoming through his veins. “Did you come to say hi to Oikawa, Sesame?”
Sesame does not respond with an affirmative meow – which, wow, okay, rude. Instead, she paws at Iwaizumi again, demanding, apparently, to be picked up. Iwaizumi does as she requests and scoops her up so that she dangles her socked paws over his shoulder. He holds her like a baby against him and she bumps her head against the edge of his jaw, purring.
She’s adorable and Oikawa is very mad about it.
Iwaizumi and Sesame came together by the sheer grace of lady luck herself. He had been walking home from the store one day after class and the small four-legged void of fluff had shyly meowed as he passed by her makeshift home beneath a pile of old cardboard boxes. Iwaizumi has always been and will always be a sucker for animals, so he stopped to try and coax her out, offering her a piece of lunch meat from his grocery haul. She took to the food quickly, apparently decided that Iwaizumi was Her Human™ afterward, and promptly followed him all the way back to his apartment, even climbing the stairs after him. When he had opened the door to his apartment, she had let herself in without any reservations, twirling herself around and between his feet, purring.
That night during their weekly scheduled video chat, Iwaizumi had opened with, “Well, I have a cat now, and her name is Sesame.”
And that was that.
He named her Sesame because her coloring reminded him of the black sesame seeds his mom always sprinkled on their onigiri when she’d make it, and she learned her name relatively quickly. Apparently, she curls herself on his chest at night when he’s preparing for bed and if he shifts, she transfers herself to his side. In the morning, she purrs and purrs and purrs when Iwaizumi begins to stir into wakefulness, seemingly thrilled that Iwaizumi has awoken from his slumber, and headbutts him in the face until he gives her attention. She follows him around the apartment, always investigates the food on his plate, and greets him at the door as soon as he gets home each day.
It’s very cute, Oikawa admits, how Sesame seems infatuated with Iwaizumi, and he won’t lie that seeing Iwaizumi coddle the cat makes his stomach tighten with affection. But damn it, Oikawa is jealous.
It’s bad enough that Iwaizumi is on a completely different continent, living a completely different day because of the time zone difference from Japan and North America. Having to watch Iwaizumi’s affection blossom for a creature that is not Oikawa every time they chat feels like torture.
He misses his best friend.
Oikawa is proud, so proud, that Iwaizumi is following his dreams, furthering his education, and experiencing life in a completely different culture. He tries to be as supportive as possible because Iwaizumi has always been supportive of him and his pursuit of being a pro-volleyball player, but some days, it’s really, truly difficult. Some days, it just sucks that there are miles and miles and hours and hours between them.
He hasn’t seen Iwaizumi’s face in person in six months. His chest aches, feeling hollow and nostalgic.
Sesame swishes her tail again and Iwaizumi runs one of his big, calloused hands down her back, smoothing over her downy fur. She really is a beautiful cat. Oikawa doesn’t realize he’s actually pouting until Iwaizumi looks up and says something about it.
“Why are you mean-mugging my cat?”
The question pulls Oikawa out of his angsty and jealous thoughts. He gives Iwaizumi a scoff, defensive. “I am most certainly not mean-mugging your incredibly adorable and attention-hog of a cat, thank you very much.”
Iwaizumi laughs and rolls his eyes. Sesame chirps at the movement of his chest. “Oh my God, you’re jealous of my cat.”
Oikawa squawks indignantly, feeling a flush rise up his cheeks. Thankfully, the picture is too pixelated to display the change in his skin accurately. “I am not!”
At this, Iwaizumi looks incredulous. He raises a brow, lips pulling into a smirk – the one that Oikawa is certain Iwaizumi doesn’t know the power of. “You just can’t stand not being the center of attention for even one minute, can you, Shittykawa?”
Oikawa crosses his arms and huffs, looking away. “Iwa-chan,” He whines, lips frowning in a pout again, “You get to see Sesame every day and you only get to see me once a week over a pixelated screen that absolutely does not convey my extravagant beauty as accurately as it could. Don’t you think you should prioritize paying attention to me instead of your fluffy void?”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but his lips soften into a gentler smile, something fond in his expression. “I am paying attention to you, idiot.” He murmurs quietly. “Trust me, if I don’t give her attention when she demands it, she’ll just sit here and meow loudly until I’m too annoyed to do anything other than pay attention to her.” He pauses. “Actually, you two are kind of the same in that respect.”
“Iwa-chan! How rude!”
Iwaizumi laughs, loud and full. Sesame stirs and paws at his cheek, so he scratches the back of her head again, bumping his chin against her face. God, it’s such a cute sight. Oikawa’s heart flutters in his ribcage again. “I’ll get to see you in person next week, though.” Iwaizumi eventually says.
The change in subject makes Oikawa brighten, blossoming from his sullen pout like a plant given water for the first time in months. He pushes his glasses up on his nose and smiles, wide and genuine. “I’m so excited to see California!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together. “You’ll have to show me everything.”
“I mean, I doubt I can show you everything in a week, but I’ll show you the important bits.” Iwaizumi responds. “I’m excited, too.” Then, quieter, “I miss you, you know?”
Oikawa feels emotion well in his chest, making his eyes widen and blood flush up to his ears. He chews at his lower lip. “I’m sure you do. I can’t imagine how boring your life must be without me there to liven it up.”
“Shittykawa.” Comes Iwaizumi’s threat.
Oikawa puts his hands up defensively, softening. He surrenders to the well of emotion pooling at the back of his throat, melting forward as if trying to crawl through the screen. “I know.” He says, a soft sigh on his lips. “I miss you, too.”
“One more week, yeah?”
Oikawa’s lips pull into a hopeful smile. “One more week.”
---
When Oikawa’s flight arrives in California, he is incredibly disoriented by the time change and the delightful weather that he’s met with. It was sprinkling in Japan when his flight took off, but it’s sunny and seventy-five here. It feels like he’s been transported to a completely different realm.
People file around him as he grabs his luggage from baggage claim. He glances down at his phone and prepares to send another text to Iwaizumi – he had sent a very enthusiastic I HAVE LANDED, IWA-CHAN!!! as soon as he was allowed to.
His fingers tap against the screen of his phone, pulling Iwaizumi’s contact up, deciding to just call him. Iwaizumi answers on the first ring. “Hey, give me just a minute. I’m walking to baggage claim now.”
“Iwa-chan! Running late on the special day of my arrival. How rude!” Oikawa teases without any bite. He pulls his suitcase behind him. “Well, I know it’s been a while and your brute brain can forget things sometimes, so just remember that you’ll know when you see me because I’m the most handsome man here, tall and fit with perfect hair – “
“You know what, never mind, I’m sending you home on the next flight out.” Iwaizumi cuts him off, his words making Oikawa laugh at the familiarity of their relationship. “Oh, your hair’s gotten longer.”
At this, Oikawa whips around, gaze searching. “You see me?”
Iwaizumi chuckles over the phone. “Maybe you’re the one who’s forgotten what I look like.”
Impossible, Oikawa thinks, but his mouth says, “Well, you are rather forgettable, Iwa-chan.”
He can almost hear Iwaizumi’s eye roll. Oikawa still doesn’t see him, even when his voice comes back at him through the phone with, “You’re also going to want to ditch the raincoat. California is sunny as hell. You’re probably going to get sunburnt to a crisp while you’re here.”
Oikawa frowns in a pout and leans against the handle of his suitcase. He’s still looking around for Iwaizumi, so his response is distracted. “Excuse you, I spent two weeks in Argentina playing beach volleyball and didn’t get burnt once.” He tuts, and then whines, “Where are you?”
Iwaizumi laugh is light and fond. “Look up, dumbass.”
Oikawa does. Baggage claim is on the ground floor, the entrance from the parking garages and transportation on the first. Iwaizumi leans against the railing of the floor above, with a casual ease of existence that Oikawa has never had, and waves.
Oikawa’s brain kicks into overdrive, his first thought being, wow, he’s really tan, and his second, oh my God, I’ve missed him.
A wide smile breaks across his lips as he nearly sprints up the stairs, earning himself annoyed huffs from the travelers around him. When he breaks from the stairs, Iwaizumi is right there. Oikawa launches himself forward without a second thought, wrapping his arms around his friend like the spider monkey he is.
Iwaizumi laughs and returns the embrace. Oikawa buries his face into the crook of his neck, happiness nearly bursting from the seams of his being. Iwaizumi smells familiar, something fresh and clean, and his body is warm and real and here.
Broad hands press down Oikawa’s back as Iwaizumi breaks away from the hug. He’s smiling and his cheeks look a little flushed from excitement. His eyes are the same olive green that Oikawa remembers, his hair cropped into familiar short spikes. His skin is bronzed from the California sunshine, smooth and soft. Oikawa’s heart memorizes the moment, memorizes the warmth.
The air between them is thick but good, and Oikawa grins as he says, “It’s good to see that California hasn’t magically made you any taller, Hajime.”
It is Iwaizumi’s turn to pout, familiar irritation lacing his features. “Yup, okay, it was good to see you, but it’s time for you to head back out.”
Oikawa laughs, loud and obnoxious, earning them a couple curious glances from people passing by. Iwaizumi can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips in return. He reaches over to take Oikawa’s suitcase so that the other man only has to take care of the bag over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go home.”
---
Jetlag hits Oikawa like a ton of bricks once they reach Iwaizumi’s apartment. The excitement and adrenaline from seeing Iwaizumi still buzzes through his veins, but it’s not enough to sweep away the exhaustion from his long flight. He had tried to sleep during the leap across the ocean, but he’s never been very good at sleeping while in a moving vehicle of any kind. The flight itself was twelve hours, and he had had practice earlier that day, so he’s been awake for a solid twenty hours, if not longer.
Iwaizumi’s apartment is tidy, just as his room back home had always been. It’s small, but it’s the perfect size for one person. It’s surprisingly tastefully decorated and cozy. Oikawa wants to stay in the bubble of Iwaizumi’s safe space forever.
“Make yourself at home, I’m sure you’re exhausted.” Iwaizumi says when they kick off their shoes at the door. They had spent the cab ride back making idle chitchat, discussing Oikawa’s flight, Iwaizumi asking how his family has been – not like he really needs to because Oikawa’s family makes a point to call Iwaizumi at least once a week to check in, anyway, which warms Oikawa’s heart in the best of ways. “And don’t be alarmed if Sesame comes to check out your bags. She’ll probably try to sleep in your suitcase at some point.”
As if summoned by the mention of her name, the black fluffball on four legs comes trotting out of the bedroom. She stretches lazily and surveys the room, eyeing Oikawa with curious suspicion. After a moment, she pads her way over to Iwaizumi and rubs against his legs, meowing her greeting.
Shit, she’s really cute.
Oikawa simultaneously wants to pick her up to cuddle her against his chest and also lock her in the bedroom so he can have Iwaizumi to himself. At the moment, though, he’s too tired to do either. “She’s cute and I’m going to cuddle her once I’ve recharged my batteries.” Oikawa says, plopping down on the sofa. “Do you mind if I take a nap?”
Iwaizumi shakes his head and smiles softly. “Of course not. We’ve got plenty of time. I’ve got some work to finish so I don’t have to worry about it the rest of the week, anyway.” He shuffles around in his bedroom and returns with a couple pillows and a blanket, which he offers to Oikawa.
Oikawa takes them with an easy and grateful smile. The sofa is surprisingly comfortable and wide enough for him to stretch his long legs out completely. He settles into its warmth, and almost as soon as he does, lethargy catches up to him, pulling his eyelids down. “Wake me up in a couple hours, okay?” He mumbles. “I’m really happy to be here.”
Suddenly, Iwaizumi is leaning over him, warm fingers brushing the curls of Oikawa’s bangs back gently. Oikawa’s heart clenches at the affectionate gesture. Iwaizumi smiles gently. “I’m glad you’re here, too.” It’s a quiet affirmation, but it makes Oikawa feel warm and happy and content.
He drifts off into slumber not long after, giddy thoughts and the familiar scent of his best friend lulling him to sleep.
---
When he wakes, it is because of soft, milky morning light filtering in through the blinds and a warm and weighted ball on his chest.
He blinks up at the ceiling, eyes squinting against the light. When he shifts and looks down at his chest, Sesame begins to purr.
There is movement from behind him in the kitchen. The smell of food makes his stomach ache because he apparently slept far more than just a couple hours. He pouts to himself for missing out on an entire evening because he was sleeping.
Sesame chirps and stretches, long and lazy on his chest. He reaches up to run his fingers over her fur delicately and she pushes her tiny chin into his hand. Oikawa feels his heart swell with affection. “Oh my goodness,” He coos, voice in a low whisper as to not startle her, “Oh my goodness, you are amazing. You’re so soft? How are you real?”
The feline meows, but she’s still purring so it comes out sounding kind of like a tiny engine cranking, and okay, Oikawa can see why Iwaizumi likes her so much, even though he still wishes she’d give them some privacy.
A soft chuckle comes from behind him and the smell of coffee hits his nostrils. “Wow, didn’t take her long to get her claws into your heart, did it?” Iwaizumi’s voice hums. He sets a cup of coffee – light and sweet, just how Oikawa likes it – on the table in front of the couch. When Oikawa looks up at him from the couch, he notices that Iwaizumi is already changed into day clothes. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
Oikawa is pleasantly surprised by Iwaizumi fixing breakfast. He migrates to the bathroom despite Sesame’s protests and moves through his usual morning routine, feeling much more refreshed after a full night’s sleep. He changes and tosses his dirty clothes in a corner, and then settles down to eat. They chat amicably over breakfast, discussing the things they plan on doing today and the rest of the week, which leaves Oikawa bubbling over with glee.
They walk the short distance to campus and Iwaizumi points out all sorts of buildings, naming them and explaining what they’re for just as Iwaizumi was taught when he arrived. Students meander around them as they explore, some looking impeccably young and others older. The diversity he sees in the short time he’s there is really incredible.
Iwaizumi shows him the gym, of course, and Oikawa has to stop himself from asking if they can practice because he’s on vacation, damn it.
They get lunch at a craft ramen shop in town because it’s one of the best places Iwaizumi has found that actually tastes like home. Oikawa’s heart shudders as he thinks of Iwaizumi feeling homesick in any capacity.
After an afternoon of sightseeing, they decide to head back for an early night at the apartment just to spend time together in the warmth of Iwaizumi’s comfortable abode.
“I still can’t believe you ran into Ushiwaka here.” Oikawa mutters. “This city must be cursed, now.”
Iwaizumi laughs and bumps his shoulder against Oikawa’s. “Don’t put that juju out in the ether, man.” He responds lightly. “Tell me, how pissed were you when you saw the photo of us together?”
“I was very close to disowning you. Twenty-one years of friendship almost went down the drain, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa answers seriously.
“Damn, if I knew it could be that easy to get rid of you, I would have tried that a long time ago.”
Oikawa makes an expression of faux offense and sticks his nose up into the air with a huff. “Your life would be boring as hell without me, Iwa-chan.” He mumbles. Then, he tugs at the hem of his shirt, a nervous habit, and settles his gaze on the trees in the distance. “I was jealous.”
The candid and open response makes Iwaizumi pause, a clear look of surprise on his face. Oikawa feels his cheeks warm with a soft flush. “Wait, are you serious?” Iwaizumi questions, slowing to a stop.
Oikawa pauses a few paces ahead of Iwaizumi and turns back around to face him. “What do you mean? Of course I was jealous. I hadn’t seen you in months and you were over here fraternizing with the enemy. You looked happy.”
…even though I wasn’t there.
The rest of the statement goes unsaid but not unheard.
Iwaizumi searches his expression and then continues to walk, slower than before. Oikawa falls back into place beside him. “You always have been a possessive asshole, haven’t you?” He responds easily, but there is an undercurrent of emotion in the way his voice softens. “Just because I enjoy spending time with other people doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about you.” He continues. “You’re still my best friend even if you’re five thousand miles away.”
A swell of emotion floods over Oikawa, a mixture of relief and unadulterated joy. He’s been unaware of how much he has been looking for some kind of reassurance, some kind of validation, until it hits him. The back of his neck burns with the heat of a flush. He falls into his usual flippant attitude to defend himself against the sudden feeling of vulnerability. “Iwa-chan, has America turned you into a big softie?” He teases lightly. “How cute!”
They reach Iwaizumi’s apartment and trudge up the stairs, the pavement thudding beneath their feet as they land on the second floor. “Just kidding, I take it back.” Iwaizumi mutters. “I’m replacing you with Ushiwaka immediately. I did get his number, you know.”
This information takes Oikawa a bit by surprise and the familiar curl of jealousy rumbles in his belly. As Iwaizumi opens the door and steps into his apartment, he turns to look at Oikawa with a sinister smirk on his face. “We’ve even been texting.”
“Hey, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks after a long, quiet moment, kicking his shoes off by the door. “Can I see your phone?”
Iwaizumi frowns slightly at the change in topic and reaches into his pocket. “Sure, why?” He hands it over to Oikawa without a second thought, which, in retrospect, is absolutely foolish and Iwaizumi should know better.
“No reason.” Oikawa hums. “I’m just going to go drop it in the toilet.”
“Shittykawa.”
Oikawa laughs and Iwaizumi chases him around the apartment until he manages to wrestle his phone away. Oikawa is only slightly disappointed that he didn’t at least get to delete Ushiwaka’s number.
---
After the commotion, they settle onto the couch for the evening. They order a pizza because it’s easy and turn on some American drama in the background that Oikawa doesn’t even try to pretend to watch, too focused on listening to Iwaizumi explain how much Americans like baseball and seriously, they have a fried version of everything and apparently add sugar to their tea – and drink it cold, like, what the fuck?
It doesn’t take long for Sesame to make an appearance, her meow preceding her. Her feet make a soft sound against the couch when she jumps up on the armrest, fluffy tail swishing behind her. She paws at Iwaizumi’s arm, demanding affection, which Iwaizumi gives without a second thought. He swipes his palm over and down her ears, stopping to scratch the back of her head. Her purring is loud and obvious even to Oikawa on the other side of the couch, like she’s rubbing it in – I get Hajime’s attention every single day!
Oikawa can’t help it when his gaze narrows into a glare.
“Oh my God.” Iwaizumi huffs, amusement and annoyance lacing his tone in equal measure. Oikawa meets his gaze, but he’s still pouting. “You’re the absolute worst.”
With that, Iwaizumi reaches out with his unoccupied hand and yanks Oikawa over by his arm. Oikawa falls forward with a surprised yelp, landing with his head in Iwaizumi’s lap. The owner of said lap scowls down at him.
“I can’t believe you. Jealous of Ushiwaka. Jealous of a goddamn cat.” He mutters.
Then, he slides his free fingers into Oikawa’s hair gently.
Oikawa stares up at Iwaizumi with wide eyes and a flustered expression. There are roses in Iwaizumi’s cheeks, too, and the sight of the blushing man makes Oikawa feel weightless. Iwaizumi’s fingers, usually so rough and strong on the court, are soft and easy, smoothing through Oikawa’s silky waves, nails gently raking over his scalp.
After the initial shock of being abruptly and forcefully maneuvered, Oikawa absolutely melts.
His cheeks tingle with the blush he knows is still there, but he finds that he doesn’t really care that much. He sighs softly, completely content, and twists slightly so he can wrap his arms around Iwaizumi’s back, nearly burrowing his face into Iwaizumi’s (very well-defined) abdomen. He hums softly, a low, pleased sound from the back coming from the back of his throat as nails tease behind his ears.
The air around them is thick with a heavy, weighted tension. They’ve always been a tactile duo, but Oikawa knows this is teetering on the edge of their norm. They’re hanging off the side of a cliff, looking down into the depths of something unknown, something greater than where they are now.
Oikawa buries his face further into Iwaizumi’s stomach. He feels warm and fuzzy and happy, like he’s coming home after a long, long expedition away, which is not exactly untrue, given it’s been six months since he’s seen his best friend. But this feels different – feels bigger, deeper.
He’s unsure how long they stay in that position. Iwaizumi’s fingers continue to swirl idly in Oikawa’s hair, nails scratching scalp, occasionally trailing down and dusting over Oikawa’s shoulder blades, warm and steady. Sesame’s purring eventually dies down as she falls asleep on the armrest, head in Iwaizumi’s palm.
Oikawa wishes he could freeze and frame this moment to live in forever.
After an unknown amount of time, during which Oikawa thinks he might have dozed off, Iwaizumi eventually stirs. Sesame stands and stretches, hopping off the sofa when Iwaizumi moves. Gentle fingers curl around Oikawa’s shoulder. “Tooru?”
Full of warm contentedness, Oikawa hums in response. “Hm?”
A soft chuckle resonates from above and around him. “I’m exhausted, I’ve got to go to bed.”
Oikawa wants to whine and protest, but he relents. Slowly, he peels himself off of Iwaizumi’s lap, ignoring the pink dust of his cheeks and the hammering in his heart. The air is thick between them, but not awkward. Electric. Heavy.
Iwaizumi turns the couch into a makeshift bed for Oikawa as he had the night before. Oikawa goes through his evening routine, brushes his teeth, washes his face, changes into comfortable clothes, and once Iwaizumi is finished with his own, they bid each other goodnight with plans for an early breakfast in the morning.
Sesame follows Iwaizumi into his bedroom without any hesitation, and Oikawa does his best not to feel irrationally jealous of the cat any more than he already does.
Later, Oikawa fiddles with the blanket pulled up to his chest. He’s been staring up at the ceiling with a racing heart and restless mind for probably forty-five minutes now with no reprieve in sight.
He thinks of Iwaizumi, warm and solid and dependable, one wall away. He thinks of how much he’s missed him – his laugh, his smile, his eyes, his scent. His gruff and tough affectionate nature. How easy it is to just exist with his best friend, the one person who’s been with him since his earliest memories. His other half.
He sighs heavily and swings to his feet, wrapping his blanking around his shoulders. Softly, he creeps over to Iwaizumi’s bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, left open to allow Sesame to come and go as she pleases, no doubt. He nudges it open with his shoulder, the blanket cape swaying behind him as he steps into the shadows of Iwaizumi’s room as quietly as he can.
He pads his way over to the bed and gently lowers to his hands and knees, crawling onto the soft bedding. “Iwa-chan?”
A soft chirp comes from the other side of Iwaizumi’s sleeping form, followed by the low hum of purring. Sesame has obviously been alerted to his presence. Iwaizumi groans softly and shifts beneath the covers. “Hm? T’ru?”
Oikawa’s heart swells at Iwaizumi’s sleepy grumbles because Iwaizumi has always been a heavy sleeper, pulled into the depths of dreams so easily and fully that he wakes slowly, taking time to come back to full consciousness. He offers Iwaizumi a smile even though he knows it won’t be seen beneath the cover of darkness. “Iwa-chan.” He repeats, this time a soft sigh instead of a question. He gently lays down next to Iwaizumi and curls close to him, immediately letting himself be surrounded by the familiar scent of his best friend.
“Tooru?” Iwaizumi asks again, this time more coherent. He twists around so he’s facing Oikawa. “You okay?”
Oikawa nods slightly and scoots closer until he can feel the heat from Iwaizumi’s body on his own. “Yeah.” He breathes out, quiet. “Can’t sleep. Is this okay?”
Iwaizumi shuffles again, this time maneuvering so he has both arms free of the blanket burrito he was curled in. Sesame meows softly at the disturbance and jumps down onto the floor, landing quietly against the hardwood to trot away. Iwaizumi motions for Oikawa to move backward a bit and when he does, Iwaizumi takes the opening to pull the blanket up, offering the space to Oikawa.
Oikawa’s heart tries desperately to escape his ribcage, a heavy, nostalgic ache in his chest. They used to share beds when they were children, Oikawa clinging to Iwaizumi in his sleep, comforted by his warmth and lulled to sleep by his easy, repetitive breaths. Suddenly, the weight of the years they’ve spent together feels unbearably heavy, and the desire to go back, to just repeat everything they’ve already been through together, hits him like a freight train.
He takes the offering without hesitation despite the weight of his emotions. Without the blanket between them, Iwaizumi’s warmth is palpable and familiar. Oikawa curls in close and is surprised when one of Iwaizumi’s arms drags up his side to rest heavy on his waist, pulling him even closer.
Oikawa sighs into the faux embrace, nudges his face into Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi’s hand trails up his back, fingers sliding up to comb through Oikawa’s hair comfortingly. The ache in his chest deepens. “I really missed you.”
Iwaizumi hums in acknowledgement. He is quiet for a moment, and then he says, “I missed you, too, Tooru.”
If he notices the way Oikawa’s eyes prick with tears, his shoulders shaking from emotion he didn’t realize he has been holding onto so tightly, Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything about it in the morning.
---
The days pass slowly and languidly, but still far too quickly for Oikawa’s liking.
Iwaizumi takes him to the beach, which is both familiar and foreign. The water is cool over his feet and the sun is warm on his shoulders. They toss a volleyball around – because how could they not? – and laugh loudly, probably obnoxiously to other beach goers, as they splash water at each other in the surf. They leave with crunchy, salt-laden hair and pink, warm skin to go to Iwaizumi’s favorite ice cream shop, which they spend a solid hour in because Oikawa’s never even heard of half the flavors that are available. He gets something called Superman because the bright colors catch his eye, while Iwaizumi sticks to his usual chocolate chip cookie dough.
Oikawa insists that they have to eat the most American things that they can possibly find, but Iwaizumi is still quite new to it all himself, so they end up Googling suggestions while tucked under the shade of a palm tree. They end up at a burger joint and Oikawa gets the largest burger he thinks he’s ever seen and an even larger side of fries. When he asks Iwaizumi why there’s just so much food, Iwaizumi doesn’t have an answer for him. It’s appalling, really, but he eats it regardless. Afterward, they go to the store and buy shitty American junk food like Twinkies and root beer and barbeque potato chips and cheese and why are there so many types of cheeses?
Iwaizumi buys something called Reese’s Peanut Butter cups and tears the package open as soon as they leave the store. He offers one of the two candies to Oikawa and says, “These things are like crack, you’ve been warned.”
Oikawa takes a bite and promptly gets u p s e t that he can’t get Reese’s back home like Iwaizumi can here. He drags Iwaizumi back to the store and buys a whole case full to take back to Japan, figuring he’ll find a way to fit them in his suitcase later.
He doesn’t think about how much his coach is going to kill him when he gets back from this trip bloated and lethargic.
They video chat their parents. Oikawa’s mom cries when she sees the two of them pop up on the same screen in California, pressed close together on the floor of Iwaizumi’s living room so they can both be in the video’s frame. Oikawa tells her about his trip so far and Iwaizumi tells her that he misses her more than he misses Oikawa most of the time, which makes Oikawa’s mom blush in delight and makes Oikawa shove him out of the video’s frame with a whine of, “That’s only because she’s a good cook, Iwa-chan!”.
Iwaizumi’s parents are just as happy to see the two together and spend most of the chat asking Oikawa for updates on his life because his schedule isn’t as flexible as Iwaizumi’s and he hasn’t been able to chat with them as often as Iwaizumi talks to Oikawa’s parents. Iwaizumi is happy to let them catch up and spends most of the video flicking a feather stick around for Sesame to play with.
On another day, they call up Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who are sharing an apartment in Tokyo now. They talk for three hours straight and by the end of it, Oikawa is basically laying on top of Iwaizumi’s back and broad shoulders, sprawled over him like a koala, content and warm and happy to have his three closest friends to talk to all at once. Hanamaki tells them about all the cool things he’s seen since he started his new journalism gig and Matsukawa has no reservations in going on about how fucking difficult graduate school is, what the fuck.
Iwaizumi updates them on his degree, gets really excited when he explains some new information he’s learned and when he talks about the internship he might take in the summer. Oikawa has heard all of these stories before, but he is happy to listen to them again, loves watching Iwaizumi’s eyes light up with joy.
In the evenings, Oikawa doesn’t even pretend to sleep on the sofa. He moves through his evening routine and then tosses himself onto Iwaizumi’s bed, curling up close beneath the covers. He tangles his legs between Iwaizumi’s and draws silly pictures on his shoulder with his fingers, and they talk and talk and talk, so much so that he would have expected to run out of things to say by now, but he doesn’t, and neither does Iwaizumi. They’ve been diligent in their weekly video chats and daily texts or phone calls, but there are still stories they forget to tell during those exchanges, memories fogged by the passing of time and daily to-do lists.
It almost doesn’t feel like he’s on vacation. He feels like this is his normal everyday life because it used to be – minus the addition of evening cuddle time. He is so happy to be where he’s at in his life, to get to play volleyball professionally, to follow his dreams and travel and be magnificent, and at the same time, a part of him wishes for this as his normal routine. Less extravagance, less distance, more face-to-face time with his best friend.
Oikawa has two nights left before he has to return to his own life, thousands of miles away from Iwaizumi with only the pixelated screen to peer at instead of the warm and real expressions that have spoiled him over the past week.
It is early, but they are already in bed. Oikawa is curled up against Iwaizumi. He feels warm and soft, like chocolate left in the backseat of a warm car. Gooey and sweet.
Iwaizumi’s arms are wrapped around his waist, his fingers idly drawing lazy circles at the small of Oikawa’s back. It all feels so domestic and easy, making Oikawa’s heart squeeze with affection and cry out in desperation that this fairytale has to come to an end soon.
Oikawa smooths his hand up Iwaizumi’s side and curls his arm around the other man’s waist as well. His nose nudges against the soft skin of Iwaizumi’s collarbone, hot breath tickling the skin there. Iwaizumi’s breath catches in his throat softly, almost imperceivably, but Oikawa’s observation skills have always been above average. The catch makes Oikawa’s heart thud loudly in his ears.
Cautiously, he turns his head slightly, just enough to let his nose bump against the junction where shoulder meets throat. He feels it when Iwaizumi swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing.
Fuck it.
Oikawa presses forward softly and slowly and drags his lips against the warm skin of Iwaizumi’s collarbone. Iwaizumi tenses, fingers stilling in the ministrations at Oikawa’s back. Oikawa repeats the action with more definition, shifting closer so he can more fully press his lips to Iwaizumi’s neck.
He pulls back, hot breath fanning over flushed skin, heart in his throat. For a long, long moment, they are both silent and still, not daring to move. Then, Iwaizumi presses his palms to the small of Oikawa’s back, handprints warm and comforting over the material of his t-shirt.
Oikawa lets out the breath he was holding in his lungs and relaxes slightly, shifting upward so he can better access the strip of tanned flesh beneath Iwaizumi’s ear. He slowly trails his lips over the area, gentle and barely-there, still cautious and hesitant. The arm wrapped around Iwaizumi’s waist shifts, fingers splaying out over Iwaizumi’s shoulder blades. Iwaizumi sighs softly, breath a hot puff of air against Oikawa’s hair, and then shifts, adjusting to tilt his head so that Oikawa has more access to his neck.
That is exactly what Oikawa was waiting for – a sign of acceptance, of nonverbal consent. He grows bolder, soft presses of lips turning open-mouthed, nose nudging along the sensitive skin. Iwaizumi’s hands trail up his back, warm and solid, one slipping into Oikawa’s hair, nails teasing the scalp. Oikawa hums softly, low and pleased, and nudges at Iwaizumi’s ear with his nose, hot breath coming out faster than usual.
Iwaizumi makes a sound that is caught somewhere between a groan and a whine, and it makes Oikawa’s insides feel warm. With a soft sigh, he trails his lips over Iwaizumi’s jawline, nose brushing against his cheek, and then pulls away.
They stare at each other in the dim lamplight. Oikawa knows he’s blushing because the tips of his ears are burning, but he takes comfort in the pretty golden-pink tint of Iwaizumi’s cheeks. They are still close enough to share the same air. Oikawa’s gaze hops from one of Iwaizumi’s golden-green irises to the other and then down to his lips, soft and pink.
“Can I?” Oikawa whispers, barely breathes, voice hardly recognizable to his own ears. Iwaizumi’s fingers are still loosely tangled in his hair. Oikawa’s hand has come to rest on the dip of Iwaizumi’s waist. He watches Iwaizumi’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
Iwaizumi licks his lips and Oikawa’s eyes track the action, laser-focused. Then, Iwaizumi nods slightly and says, with a voice full of air and gravel, “Yes.”
Oikawa’s heart leaps into his throat but doesn’t stop him from taking action. He moves slow and careful, leaning forward into the small space between them to press his lips against Iwaizumi’s. It is soft and tentatively, almost shy and completely unlike everything else Oikawa does, like a true first kiss, saccharine and full of honey.
He pulls away minutely and then leans in again, repeating the chaste action. Iwaizumi’s fingers slide down to the back of his neck, warmly pressing into the flesh there, and for some reason, the action makes Oikawa feel safe. He sighs softly and melts forward, relaxing into the next kiss he delivers. This time, he tilts his head and lets their lips slide together warmly. His fingers play with the hem of Iwaizumi’s shirt, teasing the soft skin of his lower back. It is warm and languid and full of fluff, and Oikawa thinks he might just float away into the clouds with how light he feels.
Iwaizumi shifts slightly, a soft hum in his throat as he turns onto his back. Oikawa follows easily, draping himself atop his longest and dearest friend with the ease of a practiced lover, even though this is completely new to them. He slides his hands up to cup Iwaizumi’s jaw and tilts his head to lick into his mouth. Iwaizumi’s hands slide all over Oikawa’s back, making the setter shiver.
Oikawa feels like he’s falling, feels like he’s drowning, feels like he’s burning. They kiss slow and languid and messy, full of depth and warmth and affection, until Oikawa feels buzzed on the feel of Iwaizumi’s hands on his back and tongue in his mouth. Then, Oikawa tilts his head to the side, trailing his lips over Iwaizumi’s cheek, and Iwaizumi lazily runs his mouth over Oikawa’s jaw.
Oikawa releases a soft, appreciative sound when Iwaizumi kisses below his ear. He slides his fingers up further to tease the soft hair at the nape of Iwaizumi’s neck, earning himself a soft groan right at the shell of his ear, which makes Oikawa’s skin prickle with sudden heat.
He is about to pull Iwaizumi back up into a slow-burning kiss, but he is interrupted by the sound of soft paws on the comforter.
Sesame meows loudly and paws at the pair, moving forward to headbutt the side of Oikawa’s head closest to her. She purrs, loud and happy, circling around and swishing her tail into his nose affectionately.
Oikawa and Iwaizumi both pause for a long moment, everything except for Sesame seemingly frozen in time. Then, the moment is unsuspended and they both collapse into a fit of laughter.
Sesame clearly doesn’t understand what’s so amusing, but she is pleased when Iwaizumi detangles one of his hands from Oikawa and reaches out to pet her. Oikawa collapses on top of Iwaizumi, half of his body hanging off of Iwaizumi’s chest. Giggles wrack his body, and he knows that the laughter is part true amusement and part dense, palpable tension.
After a moment, he catches his breath. “You have got to teach your cat how to read a room, Iwa-chan.” He teases, voice rough and low, and heart still pounding in his ears.
Iwaizumi huffs, and Oikawa can feel it below him. “Yeah, right.” He responds. “We’ll have better luck just closing the door next time.”
Oikawa’s heart squeezes at his words, constricting with hopeful adoration. He slides his fingers down over Iwaizumi’s cheek and pushes up on his elbow so he can look back down at Iwaizumi. “Next time?”
At this, Iwaizumi flushes, roses blossoming in his cheeks like early spring. He tucks his lower lip in between his teeth and Oikawa wants to bite it for him. “Well, I mean, if you want.” He mumbles quietly. “I don’t really make it a habit of kissing without intent.”
Oikawa smiles softly, giddiness pulling at his lips. “Iwa-chan doesn’t do casual dating, huh?”
Iwaizumi’s cheeks are still pretty and pink. He glances away. “No, not really.”
With that, Oikawa leans down and presses his lips to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “That’s good, because I don’t either.”
His fingers splay out over Iwaizumi’s jaw and he leans down to pull him into another kiss, soft and light. The sound of Sesame’s purring is a soundtrack beside them. When he pulls away, eyes warm and heart delighted, he let’s himself slide to the side, head coming to rest on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi’s free hand slides into Oikawa’s hair, and Oikawa reaches over to scratch under Sesame’s chin.
She really is adorable.
It is quiet and domestic and soft around them for a long moment. Oikawa tries not to think about how much more difficult it is going to be to be apart from him for so long, now, but finds solace in the knowledge that they’ve made it this far, so there’s not too much that can stop them now. After a minute, Iwaizumi says, “You know, you’re going to have to get used to sharing me with Sesame, especially if we’re going to date.”
Oikawa doesn’t miss a beat. “Please, Iwa-chan. I was here first. Your little princess needs to learn to respect the line of succession. I am the Grand King, thank you very much.”
“Maybe she’d respect you if there was actually a reason to.”
Oikawa squawks indignantly and pushes himself up onto his hands to look down at Iwaizumi with an incredulous expression. Iwaizumi’s amusement dances in his pretty green irises. “Take that back, you big bully! I am a perfectly respectable human being. I am a goddamn delight.”
Iwaizumi laughs, full and warm, and Oikawa feels himself fall a little bit more in love. When his laughter dies down, Iwaizumi gifts Oikawa a wide, teasing smile. “If you want me to take it back, then you’ll have to make me.”
Oikawa matches his smirk with one of his own, gaze half-lidded and hot. “Challenge accepted, Hajime.”
It is ten minutes later, when Sesame paws at Oikawa’s face as he trails his teeth over the curve of Iwaizumi’s collarbone, that Oikawa scoops the cat up and tosses her outside the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Iwaizumi nearly falls off the bed from laughing so hard, and Oikawa’s heart feels so full that it might burst.
He thinks, idly, that perhaps he owes Sesame a big scoop of wet food in the morning – because she’s definitely not coming back into the bedroom for the rest of the night.