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Oikawa has just walked into his first class of the spring semester of his second year of college: Microbiology. His gaze sweeps the classroom to identify the best seat for optimal lecture viewing when his eyes fall upon a young woman. She has the most beautiful dark hair that he has ever seen and a warm, soft chocolate gaze that meets Oikawa’s own. She smiles, something soft and coy, and Oikawa thinks that she might be the prettiest woman he’s ever seen.
He climbs the stairs of the lecture hall and takes the seat next to her. Without any hesitation, he gives her his most charming smile and offers his hand in greeting. “Hey there, I’m Oikawa Tooru.”
The woman smiles fully and Oikawa’s heart dances in his chest. “Hi. I’m Ito Somali.”
Her voice is like warm honey, smooth and sweet. Oikawa’s smile broadens. “I think we’re going to be good friends, Mali-chan.”
---
“Uncle Iwa! No fair!”
Oikawa Tatsumi, six years old and filled to the brim with joy, pouts at Iwaizumi where they are sitting on the sofa. Iwaizumi laughs softly, a wide grin on his face. The television shows that, yet again, Tatsumi has lost this video game battle to Iwaizumi.
At least when Oikawa plays with Tatsumi, he lets his son win a few rounds. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, is relentless. “You just need to practice more, bud.” Iwaizumi teases, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair. “You’re getting a lot better, though. I’m proud of you!”
Oikawa watches the scene play out from his kitchen. He’s just finished up putting the dishes in the dishwasher for the night. Iwaizumi, still his very best friend after all these years, comes over for dinner an average four out of seven days of the week anymore, and Oikawa reckons that he might spend more time in this house than he does in his own home.
He tosses his dishtowel over his shoulder and crosses his arms to lean against the wall that leads from the kitchen to the living room where Tatsumi and Iwaizumi are now roughhousing on the sofa. Iwaizumi is tickling Tatsumi lightly, and Tatsumi’s shrieks are high-pitched and tinny. Oikawa almost feels bad for the kid – Iwaizumi has had many years of practice in the art of tickling and Oikawa can attest to that.
A warm fondness filters its way from the place where his heart lives, pulling a soft smile to his lips as he watches. After a moment, Iwaizumi relents and Tatsumi lunges at the man, wrapping his chubby six-year-old arms around Iwaizumi’s neck and clamoring into the man’s lap. Iwaizumi laughs, loud and full, wrapping his arms around Tatsumi with ease and familiarity.
Oikawa’s heart can’t really handle how fucking cute they are, honestly.
His heart aches, suddenly, at how domestic this feels. How nice it feels. Briefly, he thinks of Somali, sixty miles away in her condo with a new, shiny gold ring on her finger that her new fiancé bought her six months ago. He doesn’t really miss her, if he’s honest – not anymore, at least – but he misses the domestic comforts of marriage, of a complete family. He misses coming home to someone to cuddle against, misses Tatsumi having two parents in the same household, instead of a broken one.
The ruckus from the sofa settles slightly and Iwaizumi glances up over Tatsumi’s shoulder to catch Oikawa’s gaze. He smiles, something soft and warm and familiar, and Oikawa feels the ache in his chest deepen.
Tatsumi turns to follow Iwaizumi’s gaze, leaning against Iwaizumi’s chest easily and bumping his head against Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Daddy!” Tatsumi calls, fingers sliding up to tug at Iwaizumi’s hair absently. Iwaizumi winces slightly at the sting, laughing lightly. “Come join us!”
Oikawa’s heart clenches, suddenly trying to escape the cavity of his chest, and leaves him feeling slightly breathless. He swallows the well of emotions and tosses the dishtowel onto the counter, slowly loping his way over to the living room. “Oh?” Oikawa jibes. “What’s this? You want two tickle monsters to attack you, then?”
Tatsumi’s eyes widen as he suddenly realizes his dire, dire mistake. “Ah! No!” He squeals, but Iwaizumi’s grip is firm. Both men laugh heartily and show no mercy.
---
Oikawa is on cloud nine.
He had just recently signed his contract to play professional volleyball, and he had just proposed. He proposed! And Somali said yes!
As soon as Somali excuses herself to go freshen up in the washroom – because she had started crying when Oikawa got down on one knee – he unlocks his phone and calls Iwaizumi.
“Hello?” His best friend answers on the second ring.
“Hajime!” Oikawa exclaims, voice trembling with excitement. “She said yes!”
Iwaizumi chuckles on the other side of the line. “Well, congrats – not like she would have really said no. I mean, c’mon. You guys have been together for like… five years.”
“There was always a possibility that she could say no, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says, which isn’t necessarily untrue. He smiles into the phone. “Will you be my best man?”
Oikawa can almost hear Iwaizumi rolling his eyes. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Shittykawa.” He teases lightly. “Of fucking course I will!”
At that moment, Oikawa sees Somali returning from the bathroom. “Ah! Okay!” He stumbles. “She’s coming back! Okay, thank you, Iwa-chan. I’ll call you later, okay?”
He hangs up just as soon as Somali reaches their table. She smiles at him, wide and lovestruck. He grabs her hand and pulls her close, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you.” He says plainly, but honest, wide-open and pure.
Somali squeezes his hand. “I love you, too, Tooru.”
---
On Thursday, Tatsumi turns and looks up at his dad with big, round eyes that look so similar to Oikawa’s own, and asks, “Daddy, can we all go out to eat tomorrow?”
Oikawa is a strong-willed, hard-working man, but how can he say no to those eyes? He looks over at Iwaizumi, sitting on his couch, and gives him a look as if to say, “What can you do?” as if Tatsumi has twisted his arm and forced his call. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but his smile is fond.
That’s how they up at a restaurant that is fancier than Iwaizumi or Oikawa would ever usually visit without a special occasion in mind, all because Tatsumi wanted to go out to eat and he wanted to wear his tiny child-sized tuxedo.
Tatsumi sits next to Oikawa, feet swinging and banging against the booth slightly. Iwaizumi sits across from them, menu propped up as he scans through it. He is wearing an olive-green button-down that matches his eyes, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the cut of his forearms, a shiny, silver watch ticking on his left wrist. It has been a while since Oikawa has seen Iwaizumi dress up, and he suddenly wishes for more excuses to see it again soon.
They order their food and eat companionably, Tatsumi getting excited over his dish, asking curiously if he can taste Iwaizumi’s and Oikawa’s. He scrunches his nose when he takes a bite of Iwaizumi’s meal, obvious distaste in his expression, and Iwaizumi laughs as a bit of sauce drips down the boy’s chin. Before Oikawa can get to it, Iwaizumi is already reaching over with his napkin and swiping at the boy’s chin gently, cleaning him up. Tatsumi lets Iwaizumi do as he pleases, complete and utter trust in the way he lets Iwaizumi tilt his head to wipe away the mess.
The nostalgic ache of his heart returns as Oikawa watches the ease by which Iwaizumi interacts with his son. He loves this. He loves them.
Suddenly, he wishes he could reach over and lace his fingers with Iwaizumi’s. Wishes he could pull him into his bedroom after he puts Tatsumi to bed. Wishes he could run his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair and feel those strong, beautiful forearms wrap around his waist. Wishes he could wake up and make breakfast for his best friend and his son, eat at the table together, and not have to tell Iwaizumi goodbye at the end of the meal.
This medley of feelings is strong, so he shoves them aside temporarily and laughs lightly at his son. He reaches over and bops him on the nose. “At least you gave it a try, right?”
Tatsumi seems pleased with the praise. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes because like father, like son, right? They both thrive off verbal affirmations and validations.
After dinner, they walk around downtown for a bit. Tatsumi convinces them to get ice cream and he holds Oikawa’s hand as he devours his child-sized cone. Then, once satisfied and full and sleepy, he reaches over and tugs at Iwaizumi’s hand. “Uncle Iwa, can you give me a piggyback ride?”
“Jesus.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes as Tatsumi clamors up his back. Iwaizumi holds onto him firmly, giving Oikawa a very, very pointed look. “There is no doubt that this is your son.”
Oikawa’s heart inflates with adoration. It is enough to keep him afloat and get him through the night without drowning in his sea of emotions.
---
“Oh my God, oh my God.” Oikawa paces in the hall, fingers furiously digging into his hair. “Oh my God!”
Iwaizumi leans against the wall with his arms crossed, watching his best friend fret. “Oi, stop pacing.” He commands, expression pulled into a scowl.
Oikawa does not stop pacing. The hospital smells like disinfectant. Oikawa doesn’t know how to handle this. He’s freaking out. Suddenly, Iwaizumi grabs onto his shoulder and pulls him to a forceful stop. “Tooru.”
Oikawa looks up with a wide, terrified gaze. Iwaizumi – steady, dependable Iwaizumi – squeezes his shoulder and brushes his hair off of his forehead. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m going to be a dad.” Oikawa murmurs quietly. He’s terrified of those words, even though he’s prepared for this for the past nine months. He flew back from a volleyball tournament last night as soon as Somali went into labor, which they had planned for. Iwaizumi had picked him up from the airport. Oikawa had been an absolute wreck even then.
Iwaizumi smiles, slow and reassuring. “Hell yeah you are.”
Oikawa smiles back because he can’t help it. Iwaizumi’s smiles are infectious. “I’m going to be a dad.” He repeats.
“You’re going to be a fantastic dad.”
“How can you be so sure?” Oikawa asks, and there it is – all of his fears and anxieties laid bare for the first time in months to the one person he has always been able to be completely open and honest with.
Iwaizumi huffs out a laugh and whacks Oikawa over the head gently. “Because you never half-ass anything. What makes you think this will be any different?” He jokes, but his words make something in Oikawa calm. “Now get in there and go hold your wife’s hand. She’s trying to push an entire tiny human out of her body, and she needs someone to yell at about it.”
An hour later, Oikawa holds the tiniest, most precious being he’s ever seen in his entire life in the palm of his hands. His name is Oikawa Tatsumi. He’s 7.6lbs of pure, perfect joy.
Oikawa cries, Somali squeezes his arm, Iwaizumi rubs comforting circles into his shoulder, and Oikawa isn’t sure if he’s ever been happier.
---
“Yahoo, Kou-chan!” Oikawa greets enthusiastically, stepping into Suga’s classroom for his regular afternoon pickup. Suga smiles back at him easily.
Tatsumi’s first day of first grade had come with the biggest surprise of all when Oikawa found out that Sugawara Koushi was going to be his son’s teacher for the year. He hadn’t realized he worked at the school when Tatsumi was in the kindergarten building, and Oikawa hadn’t seen Suga since he last watched Karasuno’s adventures during nationals in high school. That was nearly fifteen years ago, now.
Seeing Suga again after all that time quickly reminded Oikawa of how he used to call him Mr. Refreshing, and he looked perfect standing at the head of a first-grade classroom. He was excellent with small children, it seemed.
“Oikawa, how are you today?” Suga asks conversationally. Over the past few months of picking Tatsumi up from school each day, the two had become fast friends.
“I’ve never had a bad day in my life, Kou-chan.” Oikawa says easily. “Though some have certainly been better than others.”
The sentiment makes Suga smile fondly. “How poetic.”
Tatsumi skips up to his father with his backpack bouncing on his back, jumping up for a hug. “Hi, Daddy!”
Oikawa ruffles his hair affectionately. “Hey there, little man. Have a good day with Mr. Suga today?”
With an enthusiastic nod, Tatsumi smiles charmingly at Suga, the spitting image of his father’s most charming smile. “I had the best day!” He turns back to his father. “Is Uncle Iwa coming over tonight?”
Oikawa looks contemplative for a moment, offering his son a small shrug. “I’m not sure yet. He seemed rather busy with work and might have to stay late.”
Suga quirks a curious and mischievous brow. “How is Iwaizumi doing these days?”
Oikawa looks up at Suga and ponders how to respond. After a moment, he pats Tatsumi on the shoulder gently. “Hey bud, will you go wait at the end of the hall for a couple minutes? Daddy wants to talk to Mr. Suga about something real quick. Adults only.”
Tatsumi looks disappointed to be booted out of the club but does as asked without more than a pout. He’s such a good kid. After he leaves, Suga leans forward on his desk and gives Oikawa a pointed look. “Spill.”
Oikawa sits on the top of one of the students’ desks in front of Suga and rolls his eyes. “God, you’re a worse gossip than I am, Kou-chan.”
“I’m not a gossip, I’m just genuinely curious about my friends’ lives.” He sniffs defensively. “But seriously, what’s up?”
At this, Oikawa sighs softly and turns his head to look out the window. The afternoon light is warm, a light breeze playing with the leaves of the trees. “I’m confused.”
“About?”
“What the right thing to do is.” Oikawa responds, turning his gaze back to Suga. “Iwa-chan has been this constant in my life, you know? I appreciate him so much. More than I think he’ll ever know.” He says softly, feeling a soft flush rise up his neck. “And I – I want more. I want a family again. I want Tatsumi to have two parents in the same house. I don’t want to be broken anymore.”
There is a long, lingering moment, and then Suga says, “Tooru. Honey, you’ve never been broken.”
Oikawa offers Suga a rueful smile. “Sure.” He says, though it’s obvious he doesn’t believe it. “That’s not the point though – I just – Hajime is basically already like a parent to Tatsumi. And I love that. God, Koushi. I really do. But it feels unfair, you know? Iwa-chan has always, always been there for me through everything, and now I start realizing I want more than friendship.”
Suga tilts his head curiously. “How is that unfair?”
“I don’t know. I’d be burdening him with a child. A whole human child that doesn’t belong to him. That’s a big deal. And all of the messy shit that goes on in my head. He deserves more than this mess, you know? Plus, he’s my best friend!”
Suga is quiet for a minute, obviously thinking of how he wants to phrase his words. He straightens and pushes away from his desk to come around the front so he can look Oikawa in the eye more engagingly. “Tooru, I know you’re trying to be thoughtful by considering Iwaizumi’s feelings like this, but, honey, don’t you think Iwaizumi knows? He’s a big boy. He’s a full-grown adult. He can make his own decisions. He already chooses to hang out with your messy emotions and your six-year-old ray of sunshine of his own accord. I don’t think he’d appreciate you trying to protect him like this when he obviously already knows what he’s getting himself into.”
Oikawa stares at Suga for a moment, a bit baffled because, well, he’d never thought of it that way before. “I guess… You have a good point, don’t you?”
Suga smiles, wide and comforting. “Of course I do. I’m a teacher, I always have a good point, despite Daichi’s protests.” He jokes. “And as far as him being your best friend – well, isn’t that the goal?”
“What do you mean?”
With a shrug, Suga elaborates. “Daichi is my best friend. Hinata is Kageyama’s. Isn’t that what you want? To date your best friend? Sure, it seems scary at first – trust me, I thought I was going to explode when I confessed to Daichi – but it’s worth it. I don’t think the fact that Iwaizumi is your best friend should keep you from pursuing more, if that’s what you want.”
Oikawa laughs lightly. “I still can’t believe Tobio managed to pin down Chibi-chan. Amazing.”
Suga grins in response. “I wasn’t too surprised, honestly. Those two are kind of unstoppable together.”
A content, thoughtful silence dusts itself over the room. After a moment, Oikawa straightens. “I think you’re right, Kou-chan. I really appreciate this conversation.”
With a soft pat on the shoulder, Suga nods. “Of course. I’m always here to point out your cognitive distortions. What else are friends for?”
At that Oikawa rolls his eyes. “God, I forget that you actually majored in Psychology in college while getting your teaching certificate.”
With a wave of his hand, Suga dismisses the complaint. “It makes me a better teacher, honestly.” He says easily as if he’s had this conversation hundreds of times. He probably has. “Oh, and if you need some alone time with Iwaizumi to talk things over, Daichi and I would be more than happy to babysit Tatsumi for a bit. Just let me know!”
Oikawa is genuinely, truly grateful for this man. “Thanks, Koushi.”
---
A couple of days later, Oikawa calls Iwaizumi, sounding exhausted over the phone when he asks, “Iwa-chan? Do you think you could pick Tatsumi up from school today? I have to finish up some stuff here at work still. I can leave if I need to, but it would be easier if – “
“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi cuts him off, his lips pulling up into a half smile. “It’s okay. Yeah, I’ll grab him, don’t worry about it.”
He can almost feel Oikawa’s exhale of relief over the phone. “Oh, thank you, Hajime. I really appreciate you.”
Something in Iwaizumi’s heart stirs. He swallows down the surge of emotions and brushes Oikawa off with practiced ease. “Yeah, yeah. Text me when you’re on your way home, okay?”
“You got it, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa agrees, a smile in his voice.
Iwaizumi has been to Tatsumi’s school almost as many times as Oikawa has. When Oikawa was first registering Tatsumi for enrollment when he reached the appropriate age, Oikawa had been a nervous wreck because he didn’t really know what he was doing, and he was doing it all alone. Iwaizumi had no qualms with walking up to the front desk and simply asking, “Hey, so how do we go about enrolling a kid here?”
Iwaizumi went to the parent-teacher conferences with Oikawa when Tatsumi was in kindergarten, and he’s picked Tatsumi up a myriad of times when Oikawa has been running late or has had doctor’s appointments or interviews. Iwaizumi is Tatsumi’s first emergency contact right after Oikawa, given that he’d be able to get to the school much quicker than Somali, and so she takes the place of third emergency contact on the official documents. Iwaizumi isn’t entirely sure how Somali would feel about that if she knew, but it doesn’t really matter, he supposes.
He walks up the familiar steps to Tatsumi’s building and lets himself in. The hallway is warm and brightly colored, very obviously inhabited by an array of small children and crafty elementary school teachers. He makes his way to Tatsumi’s classroom to see the door to the room propped open. The door across from Suga’s is also open, a sweet young teacher named Ms. Ami organizing a few things at the front of her room as Iwaizumi passes by. She looks up as he passes, and they make eye contact. He smiles and waves politely in greeting because he’s seen her often enough when he’s come to pick Tatsumi up that he thinks it’d be rude not to.
When Iwaizumi steps into Suga’s classroom, Tatsumi is surprised by not unhappy to see him. “Uncle Iwa!” The small boy bounces out of his seat and lunges at Iwaizumi for a hug. Iwaizumi catches him with ease
He ruffles Tatsumi’s hair, so similar to his father’s, just like his warm irises. “Hey there, kiddo. Your dad’s working late today, so we’re going to hang out for a bit, okay?”
Tatsumi nods agreeably and Iwaizumi is forever grateful that the kid likes him so much. He has carved out a home in Iwaizumi’s heart, and he’s not entirely sure what he’d do if things were different, now. He doesn’t think about it often. He straightens and turns his gaze toward Suga, who watches the two with a fond expression. “Yo, Suga.”
Suga smiles, angelic and charming in a completely different way than Oikawa. “Hello there, Iwaizumi.” Suga greets in return. “Oikawa’s working late today?”
Iwaizumi nods. “Seems like it. Anything I need to report?”
With a soft laugh, Suga shakes his head. “Not unless you want to tell Oikawa that his son told me that his favorite color is the rainbow today.” He grins. “He’s really something else, this kid.”
Tatsumi overhears their conversation as he struggles to get his arm through the loop of his backpack. Iwaizumi walks over and helps him adjust with ease. “Rainbow is the best color, Mr. Suga!”
Suga leans against his desk and nods. “Of course it is, Tatsumi. I bet your dad will agree with you.”
Tatsumi looks pleased at this information and practically skips towards the door. He pauses and turns around when he reaches it, waiting for Iwaizumi. “Uncle Iwa, since Daddy is going to be home late, can we have sweets for dinner?”
Iwaizumi barks out a sardonic laugh. “Absolutely not, you crazy kid. We can stop by the store and pick out something to make for dinner though. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you pick out ice cream for dessert.”
With light in his eyes, Tatsumi hops up and down and spins out of the classroom, hopping toward the exit, eager to go to the store. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and offers Suga a small smile. “You must have the patience of a saint, handling twenty-five kids a day that don’t even belong to you.”
Suga’s returning smile is warm and light. “Nonsense, Iwaizumi. All of my students are my kids, too. I adore them.” He pauses. “You and Tatsumi seem very close.”
Iwaizumi raises a brow and shrugs. “I mean, yeah, I guess we are. I’m over a lot. Honestly, I see him more than his mom does.”
With a hum, Suga says, “I figured as much. Tatsumi is very lucky to have such wonderful parental figures in his life. Oikawa probably feels very lucky to have you, too.”
A soft flush filters into Iwaizumi’s cheeks. “Oh, it’s not like – “
“Uncle Iwa!” Tatsumi is suddenly back in the doorway, hands on his hips, pout on his lips. Now this is a look he’s seen on his father hundreds of times over. “Come on.”
“Okay, okay.” Iwaizumi mumbles. He smiles apologetically at Suga. “I’ve been summoned. It was good seeing you, Suga.”
Suga waves easily and moves back behind his desk to fix a few papers before beginning to pack his own bag, able to leave now that all of his students have been picked up. “Of course. You, too. Have a good night and enjoy your ice cream, Tatsumi!”
At the mention of ice cream, Tatsumi once again zooms towards the exit of the building. Iwaizumi is close behind him. When he catches up, Tatsumi stops and grabs for Iwaizumi’s hand, holding it in his own tiny palm with familiarity. The gesture makes Iwaizumi’s heart seize with affection.
They walk down the steps of the building together, about to head across the crosswalk when a soft voice calls out from behind. “Uhm, excuse me, Mr. Iwaizumi?”
Iwaizumi turns at the sound of his name and sees Ms. Ami standing at the top of the stairs. She is a pretty woman with short, soft-looking chestnut locks of hair that frame the slope of her gentle jaw. Her eyes are golden in the afternoon sunlight and her cheeks hold a light flush. “Uh, yes?” Iwaizumi answers, uncertain.
“I’m sorry to bother you.” Ami says, voice sweet like honey. She has a gentle, calming aura about her that makes Iwaizumi think that she was definitely meant to be a teacher. “I noticed that you come by sometimes to pick up little Tatsumi, but uhm, that you don’t seem to be attached to anyone.”
Iwaizumi’s stomach flutters as she continues, his mind working to piece together what she’s playing at. He feels the weight of Tatsumi’s small hand in his own, there on the sidewalk of the elementary school that he’s walked through multiple times with the afternoon sunlight filtering in through the trees. Ami smiles, soft and sweet and nervous, and she’s absolutely stunning, really. “I guess, I was just wondering – “ She continues. “Would you be interested in getting dinner this weekend?”
---
When Oikawa gets home, the sun has set and he’s exhausted, but it smells like fried pork in the entryway hall and he can hear the sound of clinking dishes in the kitchen.
His heart pulls him forward. It has been a long time since he’s come home to something like this.
Iwaizumi is in the kitchen, separating leftovers into little containers and stacking them into Oikawa’s fridge. Oikawa sighs longingly, capturing Iwaizumi’s attention. “Oh, hey.” Iwaizumi greets quietly, a smile tugging at his lips.
Oikawa returns it with ease. Iwaizumi turns back to finish putting leftovers away and when he does so, Oikawa drapes himself over Iwaizumi’s back and melts into his warmth. Iwaizumi doesn’t even flinch, but he does chuckle softly to himself. “Long day?”
Oikawa hums in response, burying his face in Iwaizumi’s shoulder. He smells good, like lavender and oak and sandalwood. “You could say that. But it’s over now, and that’s what matters.” Oikawa responds. “Thank you for picking up Tatsumi. And for cooking. You’re a godsend.”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, flushing slightly at the praise. “It’s not a big deal. You know I like spending time with the kid.” He shrugs Oikawa off and presses a plate of leftovers in his hands. “Eat. Tatsumi is in his room doing his nightly reading.”
Oikawa wants to swoon because wow, what a man, but he keeps his composure and immediately digs into the food on his plate, which is, unsurprisingly, delicious. Iwaizumi has always been a good cook. “Anything to report from Suga?’
Iwaizumi leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, a small smile playing with his lips. “Your son’s favorite color is the rainbow.”
Oikawa barks out a laugh, absolutely tickled. “Of course it is. I love that kid, what the fuck.”
Iwaizumi’s smile turns into a grin. “Yeah, that was my response, too. He’s a real ray of sunshine. I’m not sure where he came from.”
“Hey!” Oikawa exclaims. “Excuse you, I am an absolute delightful ray of sassy sunshine, thank you.” He sniffs indignantly.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” Iwaizumi snorts out a laugh. Then, he sobers up a bit and runs his fingers through his hair. Oikawa feels the energy between them shift immediately. “So, you know that teacher across from Suga’s? Her name is Ami?”
Oikawa tilts his head and raises a brow. “Yeah, she’s a sweet teacher. Lots of good reviews on the parent websites.”
“Well, she, uh, asked me out this weekend.”
Oikawa’s world seems to shift at once, the entire thing spinning and flipping on its axis. He has to set the plate down in fear of dropping it. Why is this happening now? Now that Oikawa has started to realize that he wants this with Iwaizumi all the time, wants this to be an official thing?
He swallows down the sudden rise of panic in his throat. When was the last time Iwaizumi even went on a date? Oikawa can’t recall, honestly. He forces himself to respond. “Oh.”
That is all he manages to give Iwaizumi in response, and Iwaizumi notices the change in demeanor. He raises his brows. “Oh? That’s all you have to say?”
Oikawa swallows again, feels heat rush up to his cheeks. “No, I mean – congrats? I guess? That’s very exciting, I’m happy for you.” The words come out of his mouth, but they are obviously forced, lacking in genuine enthusiasm.
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and pushes away from the counter. “Don’t be an idiot.” He mutters, a pretty pink rouge dusting over his own cheeks. “I turned her down.”
Again, the only intelligent response Oikawa can think to give is, “Oh.”
This time, Iwaizumi glares. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”
Oikawa sputters and holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry!” He says. “I’m just surprised, I guess. Uhm. Why did you turn her down?”
Iwaizumi averts his gaze. “I just – I don’t know. Didn’t know if you needed me to help with Tatsumi or something.”
Affection blossoms in Oikawa’s chest, warm and rich, making him want to drape himself over Iwaizumi yet again. Instead, he picks his plate back up and takes another bite of food to calm his nerves now that the major crisis has been averted. “You’re too sweet, Hajime.” Oikawa says, open and honest. “You don’t have to plan your life around us; you know that. But – I actually, uhm. I was going to see if Suga could watch Tatsumi Saturday night, if you’d like to spend some good old fashioned best friend quality time together sans the six-year-old.”
Iwaizumi blinks a few times in response, clearly surprised. “Oh.” It is his turn to respond dumbly, and Oikawa giggles. “I mean – yeah, sure.”
“Great!” Oikawa exclaims. “I’ll text Suga after I go say hello to Tatsumi. He offered to babysit him a couple days ago, I just hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to you about it.”
Iwaizumi nods, looking a bit flustered. “You know, I don’t mind hanging out with the two of you. You don’t have to find a sitter.”
Oikawa smiles and sets his now-empty plate in the sink. He steps closer to Iwaizumi and wraps his arms around his longest and dearest friend’s neck, sighing contently when Iwaizumi’s arms come up easy to embrace him. “I know, but I wanted to. And you’re always helping me out. I thought maybe it’d be nice to spend some one-on-one time together. A nice little break.”
He pulls back slightly, gaze catching on Iwaizumi’s. They are still hugging, forever the tactile duo, but the air between them feels thick with tension, raveling around them like a heavy string of fate. Oikawa is close enough to see the specks of gold in Iwaizumi’s mossy irises, the pretty dust of pink beneath his skin. His heart pounds in his chest, aching and heavy with a desperate yearning.
“Daddy!”
Tatsumi is suddenly there, suddenly throwing himself at the two of them. He launches himself into their embrace, forcing the two adults to separate. Oikawa wraps his arms around his son easily, scooping him up and spinning him around. Tatsumi’s giggles fill the room, and the thick tension dissipates.
Oikawa sets Tatsumi back down on his feet and pulls him in for a real hug, but he looks up at Iwaizumi from over Tatsumi’s shoulder, capturing his gaze again. Iwaizumi’s smile is fond, but the pink hue of his cheeks remains. He smiles up at his best friend and squeezes his son tight. “I missed you.” He says, eyes still locked with Iwaizumi’s. “I love you.”
Iwaizumi is the first to look away, turning around to finish cleaning up the mess he made while cooking. The back of his neck is pink, and Oikawa can’t help the giddy flutter of his heart at the sight.
---
“Tooru, I want a divorce.”
Oikawa, completely caught off guard, drops his chopsticks. They clamor to the tabletop, bouncing off his plate and tumbling to the floor, along with his heart. “What?”
Somali looks sad and tired and pained. She stares down at her plate with her hands fisted in her lap. She is trembling and Oikawa wants nothing more than to reach out and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She forces herself to look back at Oikawa and repeats herself. “I want a divorce.”
Reeling, Oikawa sits back in his seat. His chest aches. Actually, everything aches. He stares at her in confusion. “But – why?” He asks, voice quiet and unsure, warbled with emotion. “What about Tatsumi?”
At the mention of their son, only three years old, probably sleeping peacefully with the sitter right now, Somali squeezes her eyes shut and tries to hold back the tears stinging behind her delicate eyelids. “I just can’t do this anymore. I know volleyball is your life and I can’t possibly ask you to give that up. You’re a wonderful father, Tooru, but I need someone who will be around more often.”
Oikawa doesn’t understand. “But I’m retiring this year? I’ll be home all the time after the season is over.”
Somali sighs heavily, suddenly looking eternally exhausted in a way that Oikawa has never recognized before. She looks like a stranger. “I know, Tooru. I just – it’s too much too late, I think. I’m not invested in this anymore, and I think it’ll be best for us – and for Tatsumi – if we separate.” She says, setting her napkin on the table next to her plate. “I don’t want this to be any harder than it already is. I don’t need you to provide me anything, I don’t want any of your assets. I just want my freedom and Tatsumi’s happiness. We can work out an arrangement for him later.”
It is at that point that their waiter returns. “Sir, do you need a new pair of chopsticks?” He asks politely, oblivious to the bomb that has just been dropped between the two patrons.
Oikawa shakes his head slowly, eyes never leaving Somali. There are so many emotions in his heart right now, he’s not sure what to do with them. He feels a bit numb. “No, thank you. Just the check, please.”
The drive home is tense and absolutely the worst thing Oikawa has ever experienced. They’ve been together for years. They have a son together. This woman was supposed to be the person he spends the rest of his life with.
He pulls into the driveway of their shared home. The sitter’s car is in the carport. Their son waits for them in his crib. Somali gets out of the car delicately, but Oikawa doesn’t follow.
“Tooru, aren’t you coming inside?” She asks, voice gentle, like when she soothes Tatsumi when he cries. Oikawa feels a sob bubble at the back of his throat. He swallows it down.
“I need to go for a drive. I’ll be back in a bit.” He manages to croak. Somali doesn’t fight him on the matter, but she looks inexplicably sad when he pulls away.
As soon as he pulls out of the driveway, he presses the call button on his steering wheel and says, “Call Iwa-chan.”
The car’s Bluetooth rings loudly, but it is dull in Oikawa’s ears. The sound of ringing continues, and he glances at the clock. It’s only 10pm – there’s no way Iwaizumi is asleep already.
Suddenly, the ringing ends and Iwaizumi’s familiar, deep voice comes over the speakers. “T’ru?”
Sleepy Iwaizumi is one of Oikawa’s most favorite things. Everything he says is abbreviated and mumbled as if talking with a mouth full of rocks. Oikawa’s heart aches for the familiar comfort of his best friend. “Hajime.” He says, the sob he’s been holding back finally coming through, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as his vision blurs with tears. “Hajime.”
Iwaizumi is immediately alert. “I’m here.” He says clearly. “Tooru, what’s wrong?”
“Hajime, what do I do?”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Iwaizumi consoles, though he has no idea what he’s consoling him for. “What’s wrong? Is Tatsumi okay?”
Tatsumi. The light of Oikawa’s life, honestly. He loves that kid. He loves being a father. He loves being a husband. A sob breaks out from the cavity of his chest again, heart-wrenching in its agony. “Yes, he’s – that’s not – Hajime.” He fumbles, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Can I come over?”
“Of course.”
Iwaizumi lives ten minutes away from Oikawa. It only takes him seven minutes to get there. He pulls into the familiar driveway and turns his car off, stumbling out of the driver’s seat. Iwaizumi is at the front door before Oikawa knocks, and Oikawa falls into him, finally releasing all of his pent-up emotions from the past hour.
Oikawa does not have enough energy to keep himself upright. They crumble to the ground together on the front stoop of Iwaizumi’s home. Iwaizumi holds Oikawa tight, palms soothing and warm against his back just like always. “What’s wrong with me?” Oikawa murmurs through his tears. “Why am I never good enough?”
Iwaizumi is completely lost but responds valiantly anyway. “Stop that.” He mutters, squeezing Oikawa tighter. “You’re enough just as you are, Tooru. Always have been. What are you even talking about?”
It takes many moments of terrible, awful sobbing for Oikawa to get the words out of his mouth. “Somali wants a divorce.”
Iwaizumi’s response is a reasonable one. “Fuck.”
---
“Daddy, is Uncle Iwa coming over for dinner tonight?”
Tatsumi swings his legs, feet bumping against the back of the kitchen island where he’s sitting. He’s munching on a banana, the only snack Oikawa would let him have to hold him over until dinner time as to not ruin his appetite. Oikawa smiles at his son from where he’s cutting vegetables on the other side of the island. “Not tonight, baby.” He replies easily.
“Boo! Why not?” Tatsumi inquires, watching as his father tosses some cut veggies into the pan on the stove.
Oikawa turns the pan on and sprinkles some oil over the vegetables. “Because Iwa-chan is a hard-working and upstanding member of society, and he had to work late at his job tonight. I’m sure he’ll be around later this week.”
Tatsumi hums and finishes his banana. “Yay!”
With a fond smile, Oikawa leans against the counter, hip cocked. He reaches over and wipes a smudge of banana off of Tatsumi’s chin. “Do you like Iwa-chan, Tatsumi?”
Tatsumi looks at Oikawa as if he’s asked the dumbest question in the world. Maybe he has. Oikawa idly wonders if he’s picked up that expression from Iwaizumi. “Yeah,” His son answers, open and honest in a way Oikawa never was as a child. “I love Uncle Iwa! When he’s around, it’s like having two dads. He’s the best, right after Daddy. I wish he were here all the time!”
Oikawa’s heart feels so full of joy. His son doesn’t know it, but he’s cemented Oikawa’s own feelings into his soul, solidified his resolve that this weekend, I will talk to Iwaizumi about these feelings.
He smiles at his son and then turns back to the stove. “Me, too, bud. Me, too.”
---
Oikawa sighs heavily as he takes in the state of his home, half empty, like his heart.
There is a loud grunt from behind him as Iwaizumi brings in one last bag of decorations. They had gone out today to buy a few things to replace what had belonged to Somali. They had been separated for a few months now, the divorce only recently finalized. With the divorce came Oikawa’s retirement, a few months earlier than he had initially wanted, but he wanted to make sure he could be there for Tatsumi as much as possible. He was a dad first, pro-volleyball player second.
Oikawa feels his emotions well over, his eyes brimming with tears. He’s been crying a lot, lately. This is not at all how he expected his life to play out.
A strong, secure touch slides over his shoulder. “Hey.” Iwaizumi’s steady voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Oikawa doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck and bury his face into the reliable, dependable shoulder of his best friend.
The one thing in Oikawa’s life that has been a constant through all of time has been Iwaizumi Hajime. He is the absolute best human being and best friend. Oikawa does not deserve his friendship.
Iwaizumi’s arms wrap around Oikawa with practiced ease as he lets Oikawa cry into his shoulder. His fingers draw steady circles into Oikawa’s back.
Oikawa really doesn’t deserve him.
He cries until he hears Tatsumi crying from his crib, and then the steady streams of tears turn into deep, heart-wrenching sobs. Iwaizumi guides Oikawa over to the sofa and forces him to sit, tells him that he’s going to be okay, that they’re going to make it through this. He hands him a pillow to cuddle as he detaches himself from Oikawa and goes to get Tatsumi.
Iwaizumi returns with Oikawa’s three-year-old toddler in his arms, bouncing him gently and murmuring soft, soothing words into the child’s ear until he stops crying. At least that makes one of them.
Once Tatsumi is calm, Iwaizumi sits down on the couch next to Oikawa and positions himself so he has Tatsumi securely held in one arm and opens his other arm to Oikawa. The setter does not hesitate to curl himself into Iwaizumi’s free side, tears coming back ten-fold, and lets himself be held like a child.
Iwaizumi is a true gift from God. Oikawa doesn’t deserve him.
If Iwaizumi agrees, he doesn’t say as such. Instead, he runs his fingers through Oikawa’s hair, holds onto Tatsumi safely, and whispers, “It’s okay, you’re okay, we’re going to be okay,” over and over and over again until Oikawa falls asleep.
---
When Saturday rolls around, Oikawa is practically vibrating with excitement and nerves. He spends unnecessary time organizing his home – it’s not like Iwaizumi is over all the time as it is – and takes Tatsumi with him to the store to pick up some wine and snacks. Tatsumi is excited to get to spend the evening with Suga, but he does seem disappointed that he won’t get to spend time with his dad and Uncle Iwaizumi that evening.
“Are you sure I can’t stay with you guys tonight?” Tatsumi whines. It’s about thirty minutes before Suga is supposed to be here to pick him up. Oikawa smiles fondly and ruffles his son’s hair.
“Not tonight, kiddo.” He says easily, popping a few extra emergency supplies in Tatsumi’s backpack just in case. He knows Suga is a schoolteacher and will definitely have more than enough safety supplies in his own home, but you can never be too overprepared. He throws an extra pair of underwear in as well, in the event Tatsumi suddenly comes down with explosive diarrhea. “Daddy and Iwa-chan need some time to hang out by ourselves. Adults only.”
Tatsumi huffs, clearly displeased with being left out. Oikawa reaches over and wraps his arms around the small human, squeezing him. “We will miss you, though. If you’re good with Mr. Suga tonight, maybe we can go take a look at that new Lego set you’ve been trying to bribe me to buy you for the last three weeks, hm?”
At this, Tatsumi brightens. “The new Star Wars set?” He looks at his father with stars in his eyes.
“Only if you’re good for Mr. Suga.”
“I’ll be good! I’ll be the best!” Tatsumi promises, hopping around excitedly. Oikawa loves him so much.
Thirty minutes later, Suga shows up with Daichi in tow. Tatsumi is the epitome of polite enthusiasm, bouncing over to give Suga a hug and to high-five Daichi. Suga instructs Daichi to take Tatsumi to their car after one last goodbye kiss from his father, and then when Oikawa finds himself alone with the mischievous schoolteacher, Suga says, “I expect a text as soon as you confess and he says that he’s loved you for the past fifteen years, okay?”
Oikawa flushes, heart palpitating in his chest. He shoves Suga out of his doorway. “Don’t.” Oikawa hisses, huffing. “Don’t jinx me. I might not even confess. I don’t know. This is terrifying, Jesus.”
Suga laughs, a charming, tinkling sound. “It is terrifying, but it’ll be worth it. And don’t you dare chicken out. It’s not every Saturday that I can babysit your little rug rat. Private time is rare when you have a six-year-old, you know.”
Oikawa rolls his eyes. “You do not have to tell me that. I’ve only recently convinced Tatsumi to give me some privacy while I go to the bathroom.”
Suga winks. “Well then, take advantage of this gifted alone-time. Make the most of it if you know what I mean.”
With another playful shove, Oikawa flushes. “Okay, okay, get out of here. My phone’s ringtone will be on, so just call if anything comes up. And Iwaizumi usually has his volume on, too, so if for some reason I miss the call, you can try him.”
“Don’t worry, we’re going to have a lovely time. Call me in the morning when you’re on your way to pick him up.” Suga says lightly, waving. “And good luck!”
And with that, Oikawa is left alone to fret. He paces his house and tries to find absolutely anything to do to keep his mind off of all of the feelings swirling in his heart.
Iwaizumi arrives twenty minutes later with a giant bag of milk bread and some sour gummy worms – Oikawa’s favorites. God, Oikawa loves him.
Even though Oikawa feels butterflies dancing in his stomach, it is so, so easy to fall into his usual comfortable routine with Iwaizumi, and soon they end up lounging on the couch, wine filled to the brim of their glasses and a myriad of shitty snacks on the coffee table. They put on an equally shitty sci-fi movie that they both haven’t seen before and take turns making fun of how awful it is.
It’s so easy to be around Iwaizumi, and he wishes he had realized what he wanted sooner. Like ten years sooner. He downs the last of what’s left in his wine glass and chomps on a piece of milk bread, sighing as he scoots closer to Iwaizumi, pressing into his side with ease.
The wine has unfurled his nerves, made them less electrically terrifying, but that doesn’t make the prospect of starting this conversation any easier. He notices Iwaizumi’s fingers rubbing small circles into his shoulder as if they belong there.
After a soft moment of quiet other than the movie playing in the background, Oikawa finally says, “Tatsumi and I were talking about you recently.”
Iwaizumi hums in acknowledgement, fingers slowing in their soothing rhythm against Oikawa’s shoulder but not stopping. “Yeah?”
Oikawa pulls away slightly so he can look at Iwaizumi. He steels himself. I am a goddamn whole-ass, full-grown adult. I can have this conversation. I can do this. With a deep breath, he continues. “Yeah. He really likes having you around. He said it’s kind of like having two dads.”
At this, Iwaizumi rolls his eyes but laughs lightly. He straightens up in his seat, stretching slightly. “That sounds about right, doesn’t it?” He jokes, and Oikawa’s heart swoons.
It takes Oikawa a moment to force himself to continue. “Have you ever thought of having a family?”
Iwaizumi looks away for a moment, a soft flush crawling up his neck. “I mean, I guess.” He answers vaguely. He licks at his lips and runs a hand through his short spikes of hair, which Oikawa recognizes immediately as a nervous habit. Then, Iwaizumi cracks a playful smile, though it doesn’t completely meet his eyes. “But I kind of already have one, don’t I?”
Iwaizumi means it as a joke, a way to lighten the mood, turn the conversation away from the dangerous and serious path its taking, but Oikawa doesn’t let him. Instead, he forces them down the scarier path. He smiles softly, fondly, and says, “Yeah, you do. We love you, you know?”
And there it is, his heart laid bare, right in the open for Iwaizumi to see.
Iwaizumi stares at him for a long, long moment, during which Oikawa’s heart beats like a flightless bird in his chest trying to escape. Oikawa can’t bare the intensity and silence of Iwaizumi’s gaze, and looks away hastily, trying to will his breathing to remain normal.
“Tooru… you know – you know I love you guys, too, yeah?” Iwaizumi says softly, drawing Oikawa’s gaze back to his own. “Why do you think I turned Ami down? Why do you think I haven’t been on a date since, I don’t know, you and Somali split?”
Oikawa stares at Iwaizumi with a wide, emotive gaze. His divorce was three years ago. “What?” He breathes out, mouth feeling full of cotton. He reaches out and grabs Iwaizumi’s wrists, his long setter fingers wrapping around Iwaizumi’s flesh with ease. The press of his fingerprints is tight, desperate. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
Soft roses bloom in Iwaizumi’s cheeks. He twists his wrists in Oikawa’s grasp so that he can lace his fingers with Oikawa’s instead. He smiles ruefully and gives a half-hearted shrug. “I just – I never thought this was a real possibility, you know? That you’d want something like this. I didn’t want to risk losing what we had. Our friendship is important to me.”
“Iwaizumi Hajime.” Oikawa swallows around the emotion swelling in the pit of his chest, squeezing the fingers in his grasp. “You’re a complete and total idiot. You have always been and always will be the greatest thing this life has given me – aside from Tatsumi – and if you think anything could possibly change that, then you need to have a little more faith in us.”
Iwaizumi flushes deeply and looks away from Oikawa’s intense gaze. Oikawa tugs on Iwaizumi’s grip, forcing the other man forward. Then, he releases Iwaizumi’s fingers and slides his palms over Iwaizumi’s jaw and pulls him into a kiss.
Though Oikawa’s actions seem confident, the kiss is soft and tentative, like they’re teenagers again, fumbling through feelings and learning how physical intimacy works for the first time. The press of lips is gentle and cautious, and Iwaizumi’s fingers are shaking as he brings them up to cup Oikawa’s hands at his jaw. After a quiet moment, Oikawa pulls away and rests his forehead against Iwaizumi’s, breath shaky and fingers trembling.
“Hajime.” He sighs reverently, scooting forward so he can wrap his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck. His fingers play with the fine hairs at the nape of Iwaizumi’s neck. He swallows down the rush of emotion threatening to spill out from the cracks of his soul. “I don’t deserve you.”
Iwaizumi’s hands come to rest gently at Oikawa’s waist. He scowls at Oikawa’s statement. “Don’t start with that crap. You know that’s not true.“ He reprimands, a gentle scold.
Oikawa huffs out a soft laugh and shakes his head. “No, no. I really, really don’t deserve you.” He repeats, leaning forward so he can brush his nose against Iwaizumi’s, breath stuttering over the man’s lips. “But Tatsumi does. God, Tatsumi adores you almost as much as I do, I think. You’d make a wonderful addition to our family. I can’t believe how lucky we are.”
There are tears in his eyes when he speaks and when he pulls back to gaze into Iwaizumi’s mossy irises, there are tears in his, too. “Shut the fuck up.” Iwaizumi murmurs, fingers squeezing at Oikawa’s waist. His voice is layered with emotion. Oikawa chuckles softly, breath dusting against Iwaizumi’s cheek.
With a cheeky grin, Oikawa says, “Why don’t you make me, then?”, flirtatious even though the next time he blinks, tears escape from the corners of his eyes. Iwaizumi’s fingers come up and brush at his tears gently, so gently, and the soft gesture makes Oikawa’s heart ache, makes more tears well at the corner of his eyes.
“Brat.” Iwaizumi whispers with absolutely no bite, and then presses forward to kiss Oikawa again. It is firm and solid, ever the bit as dependable as Iwaizumi himself, and Oikawa sighs into his mouth, the soft puff of air turning into a sob as the emotion expanding within his chest becomes overwhelming. It’s been over three years since he has been kissed like this and it hits him like a bullet straight to the heart.
Iwaizumi continues to kiss him through the taste of salty tears, continues to kiss him even as his own heart expands too large to remain in the cavity of his ribcage. Oikawa holds on tight, lets his fingers fist in Iwaizumi’s hair, lets himself be swallowed up and devoured by all of the feelings, and Iwaizumi licks into his mouth and steals his breath away until his sobs turn into quiet hums, soft sounds of approval and content.
When Oikawa has to pull away to regain his bearings, Iwaizumi presses soft, open-mouthed kisses over his cheek, down his jaw, into the sensitive skin of his neck. Iwaizumi presses forward until Oikawa has no choice but to fall backward, letting himself get pressed down into his own sofa. His legs fall open to accommodate and make space for Iwaizumi, who swiftly lands above him, sliding into place with the ease of a practiced lover. His hands tangle in Oikawa’s hair as he continues to pepper the setter’s neck with the soft press of his lips.
“I’m sorry we missed out on so much. I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend our youth together like we could have.” Oikawa finds himself whispering, longing and sadness and joy all melding into one. “I’m so sorry.”
Iwaizumi’s nose nudges against Oikawa’s ear, hot breath tickling the sensitive appendage, and then he says, “Tooru, stop it,” with a voice full of gravel, low and raspy and perfect, “We aren’t missing out on anything, and you absolutely deserve me.”
And just like that, Oikawa is back on the verge of tears. “Hajime.” He warns, though his voice wavers over the word, watery and warbled.
Iwaizumi kisses his jaw. “I’m serious.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to Oikawa’s. His elbows are on either side of Oikawa’s head, bracketing the taller man in. Oikawa’s fingers drift down over Iwaizumi’s shoulders, pressing into his warm, broad back. “You deserve to be happy. You haven’t done anything in this life to warrant the shitty hand that’s been dealt to you.”
Oikawa smacks his back as his tears well over again. “Hajime, stop.”
Iwaizumi pulls back so that he can meet Oikawa’s gaze head on. Oikawa thinks, idly, that he must look like an absolute mess, because he’s still crying and there’s snot everywhere and he knows his skin gets blotchy and red when he cries like this. But Iwaizumi smiles down at him with the softest, most adoring gaze Oikawa has ever seen, and Oikawa can’t believe this is real life. “No.” Iwaizumi murmurs, bringing a hand around to wipe away a couple stray tears. “What happened with Somali sucked. Everything about it sucked. And look at you? Look at Tatsumi. If things had gone differently, we wouldn’t have him. He’s the happiest, healthiest kid I’ve ever seen. You’re the best dad. You’re the best partner. You’re the best setter. You’re the best fucking friend. You deserve this.”
He says the words with such conviction that Oikawa can’t help the heart-wrenching sob that he releases afterward. He scrambles to find purchase, pulling Iwaizumi back down so that he can kiss him again. It’s messy and sloppy and wet and probably really gross, honestly, but it’s warm and filled to the brim with love and Oikawa wouldn’t have it any other way.
---
The air is balmy, kissing Oikawa’s skin as if trying to comfort a long-lost lover. His eyes sting from crying, his hands sting from the hours of slamming against a volleyball. His heart aches with nostalgia for his high school career already, and he is still months away from graduating.
Iwaizumi’s presence radiates next to him, brooding and just as frustrated as Oikawa feels, for certain.
They are on their way home after losing to Karasuno. Their last chance at going to nationals, at taking down Ushiwaka, at playing high school volleyball competitively, has slipped between their fingers, now forever lost to the hands of the past.
Iwaizumi is saying something insulting, something about how Oikawa is never going to be happy until he’s old and crochety. He’s probably right.
But then Iwaizumi stops and turns to face his longest and dearest friend, and says, “You’re the best partner, and you’re the absolute best setter. We might end up on different teams one day, but those facts will never change.”
Oikawa’s heart somersaults in his chest, the harsh ache in his chest deepening with some unknown feeling. He turns to face Iwaizumi as his best friend continues. “But that won’t stop me from taking you down one day.”
At this, Oikawa smiles. Iwaizumi always, always knows the right thing to say. He meets Iwaizumi’s challenge head on, the moon and the stars watching their interaction with interest because they know this moment is a defining one.
“Bring it on.”
---
A few days later, after many discussions of how to proceed, Oikawa is in the kitchen finishing up dinner. Tatsumi sets the cutlery out on the table. “Is Uncle Iwa coming over for dinner tonight, Daddy?”
Here it is, the moment Oikawa has been waiting for. He takes a deep breath and turns toward the dining room with a smile. “He sure is.” He says softly. He walks over and sets a plate of brined meat in the center of the table before turning toward his son. He kneels down to his level and ruffles his hair gently. “Do you remember when we talked about Iwa-chan a couple weeks ago and I asked you if you liked him?”
Tatsumi nods enthusiastically, tilting his head and staring at his father with his big, round, chocolate eyes. “I do! I love Uncle Iwa!”
Oikawa’s heart flutters in his chest. He loves this kid. With a smile, he reaches out to take his son’s hand and squeezes it. “Daddy loves Iwa-chan, too.” He says. “Iwa-chan is going to be over even more now.”
Tatsumi’s round eyes go impossibly rounder, pure joy lighting up his face. “Really?! That’s so exciting! I’m so excited!”
At this, Oikawa throws back his head and laughs, full and joyous. He wraps his arms around Tatsumi’s waist and pulls him in for a big hug. “I’m excited about it, too, bud.” He agrees. When he pulls away, he swallows down his nerves. “But I want you to know why he’s going to be over more, okay? Your Daddy and Iwa-chan love each other very much, and we’ve started dating. Iwa-chan is Daddy’s boyfriend, now.”
Tatsumi’s brows pull together cutely. “Boyfriend?” He questions, unfamiliar with the term, which secretly makes Oikawa happy. Tatsumi doesn’t need to worry about boyfriends or girlfriends for another ten years.
Oikawa nods and smooths Tatsumi’s hair down. “Mhm. Being someone’s boyfriend means that you care about them very much. When you’re older, it means you get to do other things, like hug them for a really long time or hold their hand or get married. You don’t need to worry about it too much, but I wanted you to know in case you see Iwa-chan and I acting a little different.”
Apparently, the only thing that Tatsumi takes from that entire description is the word married. “Daddy and Uncle Iwa are going to get married!!!” He exclaims with more enthusiasm than Oikawa thought humanly possible. He jumps up and down eagerly. “I’m going to have two dads! Daddy and Daddy Iwa!”
The little boy zips out of Oikawa’s grasp and starts running around the house like an absolute madman. Oikawa, flustered, tries to capture his zooming, joyful child just as Iwaizumi knocks on the front door as he always does before entering.
Iwaizumi calls out a soft hello from the entryway where he’s likely kicking off his shoes. Tatsumi’s eyes light up at the sound. He looks over at Oikawa and grins. “Daddy and Daddy!” He exclaims, rushing toward the hallway.
Oh, no.
Before Oikawa can do anything to stop it, Tatsumi is launching himself into Iwaizumi’s arms as soon as he rounds the corner. Iwaizumi’s everlasting reflexes keep him from falling backward onto his ass, though he does stumble a bit with the force of the hurricane that lunges at him. Tatsumi’s grabby hands wrap around Iwaizumi’s neck, fully and completely trusting Iwaizumi to capture him.
“Daddy Iwa!” Tatsumi exclaims, grinning like it’s Christmas morning. Oikawa watches in complete horror as his son giggles and tugs at Iwaizumi’s hair affectionately. “I’m so excited that you’re marrying Daddy! I can’t wait to have two dads!”
Iwaizumi fumbles with his words, a flustered blush rising up his neck and into his cheeks. He cuts his gaze from Tatsumi over to Oikawa with raised brows and a hammering heart that matches Oikawa’s own. “I – We – Uh.” Iwaizumi stumbles. “We’re getting married?”
“Oh my God!” Oikawa squeaks, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my God. No, no! I mean – Maybe one day, yes, but, oh my God – no.”
He scrambles over and grabs at Tatsumi, setting him on his feet between them. He’s mortified by his embarrassment even though he’s thrilled that his son is so enthusiastic about this development. “I was explaining to him that we’re boyfriends now, and – “
“And Daddy said being boyfriends means you care about someone a whole lot and you can marry them! Which means I’ll have two daddies! Daddy and Daddy Iwa!” Tatsumi cuts in smartly. He grins up at Iwaizumi and reaches out to grab his hand. “Daddy Iwa!”
Oikawa watches as Iwaizumi blinks away the rush of emotion flooding into his expression and can only imagine what it must feel like to have someone else’s son calling you their father after years of unofficial parenting. Iwaizumi smiles gently at Tatsumi and leans down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. It makes Oikawa’s heart stutter in his chest. “I can’t wait to be Daddy Iwa, bud.”
Tatsumi throws his hands around Iwaizumi’s neck and captures the man in another hug, all smiles. Then he bounces back on the balls of his feet. “Daddy made dinner and I set the table. Food time!” And then he zooms out of the hallway toward the dining room like the tornado he is.
As soon as Tatsumi is out of earshot and Iwaizumi’s gaze is back on him, Oikawa says, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” He buries his face in his hands again, face hot with an embarrassed flush.
Iwaizumi rumbles out a quiet laugh. He reaches out and wraps an arm around Oikawa, pulling him close so Oikawa can bury his face in his shoulder instead of his own hands. “It’s okay. I’m happy you want to marry me, though maybe we should take it slow, eh?”
It’s a teasing jibe that only increases Oikawa’s flustered embarrassment. He hits Iwaizumi’s shoulder and pulls back slightly, Iwaizumi’s arm settling around his waist. “Oh, shut up.” Oikawa huffs. “I didn’t say that at all.”
Iwaizumi laughs again, always delighted in Oikawa’s embarrassment. His fingers squeeze at his waist and he leans forward to capture Oikawa in a slow, languid kiss. It leaves Oikawa feeling a bit boneless, heart palpitating for far too many reasons. When he pulls back, Iwaizumi grins lazily, all rogue boyish charm. “Sure.” He teases. “But really, it’s okay. I’m happy about all of this.” He motions wildly toward the open area of the house.
Oikawa smiles softly and leans forward to kiss Iwaizumi chastely. “Me, too.”
---
The next parent-teacher conference night is three weeks later, and Oikawa manages to somehow convince Iwaizumi to go with him.
“C’mon, Hajime,” Oikawa had whined, a wild smirk on his lips. “I’ll make it worth your while once we put Tatsumi to bed tonight.” He had winked coyly, biting his lip, and really, that’s all it had taken. Iwaizumi was impressively weak-willed. He had been planning on attending the event anyway and had been joking when he had said he’d rather not join on the excursion, but he wasn’t one to pass up such an offer.
So here they are, walking down the hall of Tatsumi’s elementary school. Tatsumi bounces a few feet in front of them, excited to get to see Mr. Suga for a second time that day and zooms into his familiar classroom as soon as he sees it.
Across from Suga’s classroom, a familiar face turns their way. Ms. Ami looks to be finishing up hanging a couple new posters on the wall outside of her classroom when she spots Oikawa and Iwaizumi. They are the only people in the hallway at the moment. A soft blush rises on her cheeks when she sees Iwaizumi, and Oikawa just really, really can’t help himself.
He reaches down and slides his palm against Iwaizumi’s, interlacing their fingers and tugging Iwaizumi to a soft stop. They’re not huge into publicly displaying affection – though they’re both rather tactile by nature as it is – so the behavior catches Iwaizumi off guard. “What?” He asks quietly, squeezing Oikawa’s fingers reassuringly.
Oikawa squeezes them back, heart somersaulting in his chest. He grins, wide and crooked, and tugs Iwaizumi closer before reaching up to cup his jaw and pulling him into a quick but deep kiss. When he pulls back, Iwaizumi looks dazed. Oikawa grins. “I just wanted to thank you for coming with me tonight, Hajime.” He purrs. “A little preview for later.”
He drops Iwaizumi’s hand with a wink, and then practically skips off into Suga’s classroom after Tatsumi. Iwaizumi is left in the middle of the hallway flustered and stupidly lovestruck, and it is with that expression that he finally realizes Ami is still in the doorway to her own classroom, staring at him with wide eyes and a hot blush on her neck.
“Uh – “ Iwaizumi fumbles, scratching at the back of his neck. He goes to apologize, but Ami beats him to it.
“I’m so sorry!” She exclaims, flustered, and then she escapes into her classroom.
Later, after a very successful parent-teacher conference, Oikawa tucks Tatsumi into bed while Iwaizumi finishes up his nightly routine. Oikawa has already crawled into bed by the time Iwaizumi has finished brushing his teeth. He’s wearing one of Oikawa’s old V-neck t-shirts that hangs a bit loose over his chest – once upon a time, Iwaizumi was broader than Oikawa, and while he’s still built and keeps up at the gym, his personal gym membership is nothing compared to the years Oikawa spent as a pro-volleyball player – and a pair of loose boxers, and he feels it as Oikawa’s gaze ravishes him from their bed. Oikawa loves when Iwaizumi wears his clothes.
Smirking slowly, Iwaizumi climbs onto the bed until he hovers over Oikawa, who does not hesitate to wrap his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck. However, before Oikawa can pull Iwaizumi down into a kiss, he says, “You didn’t have to do that in front of Ami earlier, you know.”
At least Oikawa has the decency to blush. “I had to let her know that you weren’t available!”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “I literally told her that I wasn’t interested.”
“Yeah, but not interested is not the same as absolutely and irrefutably taken by the hottest pro-volleyball player that there ever was.”
“Jesus Christ.” Iwaizumi huffs out a laugh. “You egotistical, selfish, possessive, jealous brat.”
Oikawa only giggles and leans up to place a soft kiss to Iwaizumi’s nose. “Oh, talk dirty to me, Hajime.”
Iwaizumi’s amused smile turns into a wicked smirk. He leans down and pulls Oikawa into a slow-burning, languid kiss that leaves Oikawa immediately panting for more. “Sure thing, daddy.”
Oikawa’s embarrassed, indignant squawk followed by a spew of, “No, no, no, no, no, absolutely not, no!” is absolutely worth the embarrassment and punishment he’s earned himself later.