Work Text:
“Can I tell you a secret?” a twenty-year-old Oikawa Tooru asks into a couch pillow. A twenty-one-year-old Iwaizumi Hajime glances down at the hair in his lap, smooth from where he’s been carding through it for hours, watching TV over pizza and beer on a Saturday night. They don’t spend every waking moment together anymore like they did as kids – they go to different schools now, with different friends and clubs and futures – so their time alone at home is sacred. More often than not they end up like this, Tooru the clingy housecat begging for pets, Hajime obliging with a hidden smile. A warm summer wind breezes through the night out the open window.
“My answer to that has never affected your response,” Hajime says, tucking some hair behind Tooru’s ear, a flash of cheek before it falls back into place. Tooru huffs, turning his head to face Hajime’s stomach.
“You’re such a bitch.” His fingers twist in the fringe of the (mother-gifted) throw pillow. “I kissed a boy the other night.”
Hajime hums, hand not stilling. “Did you like it?”
Tooru shrugs, eyes fixed on Hajime’s shirt hem. “I drew the conclusion that kissing is kissing, whatever the gender.” He pulls a face. “And most people suck at it.” Hajime laughs, head falling back on the couch top, slouching down as his shoulders heave. Tooru shifts in his lap, pushing up to his hands, headbutting Hajime’s shoulder. “It’s not funny! He had braces!”
Hajime wipes his face, still grinning through his leftover beer buzz. “What was he, twelve?”
“Twenty-one, but he acted twelve.” Tooru’s sneer deepens. “Bad Choice Tooru was in full control that night.”
“Well, if he gives you grief we can do the pretend boyfriend thing again.” His hand has fallen from Tooru’s hair to his shoulder with their moving around. He strokes his thumb under Tooru’s jaw. “Worked like a charm on that one rugby girl a while back.”
Tooru shrugs. Hajime’s hand flops down to his lap. “Nah, he’s got way less backbone than she did, I think I can handle it.” He bats his eyelashes, cheek pressed to his shoulder. “As always, it’s sweet of you to offer.”
“Bite me.”
Tooru grins, leaning in. “Is that a challenge?”
Hajime’s mouth goes dry. He’s always known Tooru is attractive, like the sun is hot, and Tooru flirts with every breath, and it’s not like he’s immune to physical charms, and he’s never fallen for it before, but. Tooru’s hands braced on either side of his lap, pepperoni breath, some after-midnight game show rerun flashing behind him. Hajime’s hand snakes over to take Tooru’s wrist. “I bet I kiss better than he does.”
Tooru hums, head tilting to the side. “I bet you do.”
Hajime searches Tooru’s face – open, only barely teasing, cheeks still a little flushed from the beer but eyes clear. He quirks his mouth, pouting at Hajime – you really okay with this? Hajime sucks in a breath and nods as he reaches up to cup Tooru’s neck with both hands, line of his jaw fitting in his palms like a wrench over a bolt. Tooru leans in, eyes slipping closed. Hajime yanks him the final centimeters to shove their mouths together, Tooru’s squeak lost against his growl.
He’s kissed people before – mostly girls – but not that many and not that often. It wasn’t an unpleasant experience in his past, but he could never seem to lose himself in it like the stories said he would. It wasn’t something Hajime needed in his life to live. Tooru, it seems, doesn’t agree. He opens wide over Hajime, lips caught between teeth, gripping Hajime’s waist and turning his head for a deeper angle. Hajime rolls his thumbs into Tooru’s temples, settling back into the cushions as Tooru pushes forward, onward, tongue tracing the valleys of Hajime’s palate before Hajime forces him out to return the favor. Tooru tastes like him, hops and tomato sauce; his cheek has bristles under his palms. Not quite the same. Tooru forms to him like cake batter, ridges of his ribs bumping over Hajime’s. His skin is hot under Hajime’s roaming fingers, flushing down to his neck. Hajime slides down as he is devoured, mouths working in three-fourths time, the equal aggressive dance they’ve perfected in a decade of friendship. Tooru’s hands slide around his waist to gather in the dip of his spine, their favorite resting place.
They slow down, then they stop, lips brushing with their breathing. Hajime watches Tooru’s eyes flutter open – blink when they catch him staring. He grins, heartbreaker brown gone to black. “Well, you might be a little better than Yashimoto-kun.”
“Damn straight.” A flutter of a kiss. “I’m not about to be outdone by some punk with braces.”
“Says the kid who desperately needs to get them himself.” Tooru hesitates – dips in with his tongue to trace the uneven line of Hajime’s top teeth. “You’re going to lose something if you don’t get these straightened out.”
“Now who said anything about straightening?” He’s still rubbing down Tooru’s neck – he never stopped. “I don’t think any straightening is happening tonight.”
Tooru giggles, ducking his head into Hajime’s shoulder. “You are the worst.” Hajime laughs with him, hugging him around the trunk to keep him from falling out of his lap. He recrosses his ankles on the coffee table as Tooru twists his hips so his legs lay in a simpler position. The TV’s still running. Hajime fumbles for the remote at his side to turn it down so he can hear his blood pumping, the light still casting them in washed-out flickering blue as he tosses it aside. They hold each other in the silence, waiting. Waiting for what? Hajime frowns into Tooru’s hair, looking inward – he feels the same. His heart is racing, but not anymore than would be expected. His mouth tingles, but Tooru feels exactly the same against him as he always does. Like the first birthday that doesn’t wake up special, but as just another day.
“I still don’t want to be your boyfriend,” he tells Tooru’s hair.
“Oh, thank fuck for that,” Tooru breathes into Hajime’s shoulder. “I don’t think I could have handled it.”
Hajime barks a laugh, squeezing Tooru hard and fast before letting go so he can sit up. Tooru crawls into his lap in full, arm curling around Hajime’s shoulders, long legs akimbo along the couch. Hajime supports his back and holds his knee as he adjusts him to a better spot for the both of them. “We’ll just be able to pull off the fake boyfriend card a lot better now,” Hajime mumbles.
Tooru grins against his neck, breath misting down the collar of Hajime’s sleep shirt. “We have to fuck with Taka and Issei next time we see them,” he says, “they’ll shit their pants.”
“After which they’ll have a lot of shitty questions.”
“Nothing we haven’t handled before.” He rests his cheek on Hajime’s shoulder, reaching up with the hand not caught behind Hajime’s back to pull his shirt collar wider. “Remember when they tried to have that intervention second year?”
Hajime huffs a laugh. “Wasn’t that a disaster.” Tooru traces his fingers along the dip of his sternum, around, down, up the other side. “Took weeks to rub that stain out of the locker room carpet and I don’t think the tennis team ever forgave us and that is very distracting.”
Tooru laughs, poking at the underside of Hajime’s chin to tilt it back and broaden his exploration territory. “Yeah, but you like it.”
Hajime frowns at the ceiling. “Huh. I guess I do.” Tooru presses his mouth to a tendon on Hajime’s neck; he shivers. “Oh.” Tooru hums, going up the scale on a question. “That’s…”
The slick fronts of Tooru’s incisors slide open on his neck. “Still want me to bite you?”
Hajime swallows. “Maybe.” Press, press, down, down… “We still need to talk about this?” Hajime clears his throat on its cracks. Tooru pulls back to look at him, foreheads touching.
“I love you,” he says, bald like he never is. “Historically, platonically, familially, grammatically, the whole nine yards. And you know that.” He traces a thumb down Hajime’s cheekbone. “I think it’s strong enough to bear a makeout session or two.”
“Or twenty.” Tooru quirks an eyebrow. Hajime doesn’t look away even as he overheats. “This isn’t me telling you you’re a good kisser.”
Tooru beams and yanks Hajime around so his back thumps on the couch, Tooru manhandling his legs up so he can lie between them, arms braced around Hajime’s head. “Then this isn’t me telling you that back.” He ducks in to kiss Hajime again, soft and warm, a nice heavy heat pinning Hajime down. Hajime runs his hands up Tooru’s arms, down his back, fingers digging into his old shirt to ruck it up. He winds his calves over Tooru’s, locking his ankles together to hitch him up closer. Tooru gasps into his mouth as the angle changes, fingers snarled in Hajime’s hair. Hajime grabs just under Tooru’s ass to hold him there, arching up to lick behind Tooru’s teeth, inspecting the old glue of the permanent retainer behind his front teeth. Tooru reaches back to move one of his hands up a span by the wrist. They both moan as Tooru collapses over him, nosing over to the dry side of Hajime’s neck, sucking on a hollow there. Hajime bares it, hands full.
“You like that?” He squeezes; Tooru whimpers. Hajime bares his teeth. “I can’t believe I didn’t know that- ow!”
Tooru bites his neck again, up to his ear. A few volts shock through him, stiffening his entire body under Tooru. Tooru lets his ear go with his teeth just to come back with his tongue. Hajime shudders, heaves a breath. “Okay, I didn’t know I like that.”
“You learn something new every day,” Tooru whispers into his ear. He mouths over his cartilage; Hajime groans and grabs a hank of Tooru’s hair to haul him up and attack his mouth again, swallowing all his little noises like coated candy. He scoops Tooru against him and, carefully, dips him back so Tooru sprawls under him, hair splayed out on another mother-gifted throw pillow. Tooru blinks up at him, mouth slick, chest heaving, hands loose on Hajime’s sides.
“I didn’t answer you before,” Hajime breathes, Tooru’s hair rustling with it. Tooru pouts, eyebrows drawing together; Hajime smooths it out with his thumb. “I love you, too, even if I don’t say it that much.”
“But you do.” His smile lilts to one side. “At least, if you speak Iwa-chan.” He catches Hajime’s wrist, thumb digging into the soft inside, Hajime’s fingers curling. “And I’m fluent.” Hajime swallows, throat tight. He ducks down to brush his mouth over Tooru’s cheek. Tooru chuckles, chest vibrating against Hajime. “See?”
“Bug off.” He hides his smile in the pillow over Tooru’s shoulder.
“Hard to do when your fatass is on top of me.”
“This fatass could kill you in your sleep.”
There’s the faintest hint of a mouth at Hajime’s shoulder through his T-shirt. “But you won’t.”
“No.” He nuzzles into Tooru’s neck, hands sliding up forearms, velvet on his wrists. “I guess I won’t.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: IN JAPAN
July 7
OMG hajime-oppa! Japan is so COOL!! We flew into Hokkaido this morning and it’s runaround, runaround, all day long! We’ve got practice after lunch so I gotta run, but it’s the pits not having data on my phone and having to use crappy free wifi :( BUT! I’m taking tons of pics for when we get to Tokyo and we can meet up! It’s gonna be so awesome to see you again (without my parents *gag*) Nii-chan’s coming right? I can’t wait to meet him!
Ayumi*
A few days later, Hajime is waiting for his rice to cook at the kitchen counter, tapping away at his foot and his phone. It’s been three years or so since their post-graduation trip to Korea, and although Tooru’s obsession with his birth parents has been simmering on the backburner, Hajime knows this fight isn’t over.
It’s also been three years since he gave his email to Tooru’s younger birth sister Ayumi, scribbled on a receipt at her door while her parents cried in the kitchen. He’s learned a lot about her since then, in almost daily email exchanges that grew to Snapchat and Instagram – she even dragged him onto KakaoTalk, where she was his only friend. She was like Tooru in so many way, but it didn’t take but a month or so for him to find the individual under the Oikawa pout. Which was, apparently, the Maeng pout. He had been there for her first date, her first breakup, her first day of high school, her first failed test, her first perfect score, her first basketball game, and now, her first day back in her birth country since she was a child.
“What you smiling at?” Tooru asks, sliding in to bump Hajime’s side. He hesitates, then pecks Hajime’s cheek, more nose than mouth. Hajime’s grin grows as he rubs his cheek.
“You don’t have to kiss me all the time now, you know. I’m fine the way we were.”
“Yes, well. Stop avoiding the topic.”
“It’s your sister.”
Tooru rolls his eyes and makes a snatch for Hajime’s phone. “Ha ha, like I haven’t heard that one before. Besides, my sister is still on her sabbatical in Taiwan.”
Hajime inhales, exhales. “Not that sister.” Tooru stops fighting for the phone, head cocking. “That birth sister of yours.” Tooru’s breathing stops. “Her name is Ayumi, and-”
“I know what her name is.” Oh dear. “You have her email?”
Hajime nods, sticking his phone in his jacket pocket. “Have for a while. She’s just like you, it’s crazy.” Hajime doesn’t look away from Tooru’s particular hunger, fingers just touching Tooru’s elbow. “She’s a good kid, Tooru. Didn’t make her high school’s volleyball team, poor girl, but she plays pretty much everything else-”
“Stop.” Tooru curls in – crouches down. Hajime kneels in front of him, holding both his elbows where they jut out, hands on his head. Hajime waits, still as the night. “How did you find her?” he asks after a long, long silence, tone too even. Hajime licks his dry lips, the cold sea in his belly roiling.
“After you… after. When we were in Korea. I went back.” An aborted, strangled squeak doesn’t quite leave Tooru’s throat. “I knew, I knew you would never let this go, and I knew it got to you more than anything, and you – I just.” He swallows. “I was a dumb teenager. So I went back.”
Tooru hiccups. Hajime’s arms ache from restraint. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he says in a tiny voice.
“I never told anyone. Not my parents, not our friends, not even Miso – and I told that dog everything, you know that.” Tooru’s head stays bowed, shoulders twitching. “I never told anyone your secret – except Issei and Taka, right before we left.”
“Mine’s not a secret,” he bites out, wrapping his arms around his middle. “Anyone knew. Everyone knew.” He glares up, eyes shining. “We don’t have secrets, Hajime. Not like this.”
Hajime swallows. Of course this pushed him off the Iwa-chan nice list. “I know.” Tooru buries his face in his knees, hands clenching in his sweats. “I just didn’t think you were ready.”
Tooru’s head whips up. It’s been over three years, but Hajime is thrown back to a sixth-story kitchen with white furniture and red eyes across from him. (This has happened a lot in their fights.) Hajime shoves it down as Tooru growls. “Who are you to decide if I’m ready or not?” Hajime bites his tongue as Tooru’s face shifts through emotions like grease. “I could have-” He sucks his lips in. “I could have gotten to know her, too.”
Hajime shushes him, rubbing up and down his arms. “I know, I know, you big baby.”
Tooru hiccups again, followed by a curse. “Why are you telling me this now?” he asks, still sweaty and sore from morning practice.
“Because. She’s in Japan. Your sister.” Tooru shoots back like lightning struck their floor. “Not your parents, just her. Her basketball team has a tournament, and they’re taking two days in Tokyo after Hokkaido for a vacation.” He tries to smile. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to meet her with me-”
“Yes.” Tooru’s eyes have iced out as they bore into him. “When?”
“Week after next. Tuesday and Wednesday. They have a free afternoon Tuesday, so-”
“That’s why you asked for that evening practice off.” One day, Hajime would stop underestimating how much Tooru knows. He nods. Tooru presses a fist to the linoleum to push himself up, towering over Hajime for a moment until he follows suit. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Hajime asks. Tooru nods, once, and spins on his heel, marching into the bathroom and slamming the door.
Hajime sighs and turns down the rice cooker. He’s not that hungry anymore.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 7
He’s coming if I have to drag him by the hair. He’s being a baby right now, but he’ll come around when the time comes. Have fun at practice.
一
It’s been a day of quiet phones, slammed doors, and feeling rotten, so Hajime isn’t surprised that he can’t sleep. He tosses for half an hour, then sighs and slips out of his futon, padding through the moonlit apartment to Tooru’s room – door closed. He slides it open and slips in. Tooru is draped over his desk, a common stance to find him in, but the textbook under his cheek is closed as he scrolls through a well-stocked art blog dating back over four years. Hajime sits next to him, not touching, Tooru not acknowledging his presence as he watches the paintings and galleries and murals scroll by, page by page.
“She really wants to meet you,” he offers when he sees a picture that has a slightly-younger Ayumi featured by the painting, wide grin on. “Your parents, they’re… they didn’t take it well. Kind of like how I knew you’d be.” Tooru’s hand stills on the mouse wheel. “But Aya, she’s a little trooper, always has been. Asks about you a lot. Only calls you nii-chan.” The world pauses – even the air conditioning powers down. “If it makes you feel better, her parents don’t know that she talks to me, either.”
Tooru’s quiet for a minute, then switches cheeks to fix red eyes on Hajime. “You know what? It kinda does.” Hajime smiles at him, but Tooru’s not ready for that yet. “Nice to know you’re both liars.”
Hajime scowls as Tooru turns away again. “Look, I-”
“Save it, okay?” Tooru flips back to glare at him. “I’m not in the mood.”
Hajime nods. “Okay.” He makes to get up, but before he does, he hesitates, bends over to kiss Tooru’s temple. It’s innocent, but Tooru freezes under him, eyes popped open. Hajime tries to leave, but Tooru’s hand snatches out and grabs his shirt, holding him down. Hajime has room for one blink before he’s attacked, slammed back like a door, Tooru trying to eat him alive, tongue-first. Hajime fights back, grabbing his head to hold him steady so he can go in deep, deep, deep. Tooru parts Hajime’s legs by the knees to rut in closer, hips slotting, saliva dripping down Hajime’s face to mix with the hot salt falling from above. Hajime rolls them over, sitting on Tooru’s legs now as he holds him by the ears and works him down until the pace is easy and slow, mouths moving in lazy counterpoint. Hajime pulls away, soft enough to feel the surface tension between their bottom lips break. Tooru sniffs.
“I’m still really fucking pissed at you,” he hisses, rough and wobbly. Hajime combs back his hair.
“I know. Now let’s get you to bed.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 7
Don’t drag him! I only wanna meet him if he wants to meet me D: Practice was good, but now I’m beat. Night!
Ayumi*
They wake up tangled together like they haven’t since grade school – or maybe ever, since they never wormed hands under clothing when they were five except with an actual worm. They don’t talk about it as they move around each other to get ready for the day, the leftover heat hanging like the outside summer.
There’s blissful distraction with morning practice for the both of them, Tooru as a player, Hajime as a part-time coach on the days he doesn’t have morning classes. They train over in silence, shoulders bumping with every track sway, and split off at the locker rooms for their own routines. Hajime checks in with the rest of the coaching staff for the day’s schedule, then makes his way to the court where the spikers warm up, half of them scattered on one side of the net like balls after serve practice. He sits across from a distinctive head of hair and stretches his legs out in front of him, grabbing his toes. The hair looks up and smiles.
“Hey, Coach.” He tilts his head, gold-hazel eyes blinking. “Rough night?” Hajime shrugs, and his face softens. “You and Oikawa fight again?” Hajime shrugs again. He grins. “What was it this time, the toaster or the TV remote?”
“A little bigger than that.”
“So, the actual TV?”
Hajime snorts and pulls his feet into a butterfly stretch. “Bokuto.” Bokuto stretches his arms behind him, fingers interwoven, head cocked. “Do a favor for me.”
“Sure thing, boss. What you got?”
“Don’t let that asshole be alone today.”
Bokuto laughs, falling back on the court spread-eagle. “So it’s a stalking request today, huh?” He heaves a beleaguered sigh. “One day of ambushes, coming up.” He pushes up to his elbows to raise a winged eyebrow down his chest to Hajime. “Maybe he’ll tell me what’s up in the Seijoh household.”
“Doubt it.” Hajime smiles – ever since he met Bokuto at the first training camp, he’s been conditioned to smile when he opens his mouth. “Thanks.”
“Sure, sure.” Bokuto hops to his feet, twisting his torso side to side a few times. “Welp, no time like the present.” He bounces off to the corner Tooru has banished himself to this morning, slamming into his back. Tooru squawks loud enough to echo in the rafters, followed by caustic barking and wild laughter. Hajime smiles at his pressed-together soles.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 8 (13 days ago)
First game today!!! I won’t be online until after dinner so I wanted to tell you that now and also it’s okay if he doesn’t want to meet me, really, seeing you again would be enough J Still excited either way!
Ayumi*
Hajime always has to run back to his campus right after morning practice wraps up, but today, the head coach catches him at the locker room door. “Got a sec, Iwaizumi-san?”
Hajime pauses with his foot in the air – thumps it down. “Not much more.”
“Won’t take long.” He jerks his head at the open door of his office.
Hajime’s brow furrows as he follows, closing the door behind him at the coach’s gesture, standing in front of him as the coach perches on the edge of his desk. “Sir?”
“You’re not in trouble.” The tension Hajime didn’t know was there uncurls in his shoulders. The coach’s smile flashes through his beard. “I just wanted to offer something to you before word got out how good you are and I lost you.” He crosses his arms and his ankles, leaning back on his desk. “You want to join the team full-time when you’re done with school?”
Hajime blinks. “Really?”
The coach nods. “You’re the best new talent we got, barring that manufactured prettyboy you got in your pocket. You’re reliable, and the players trust you even though you’re their age.” His smile flashes again. “And, I like you.” Hajime smiles back, hands shoved under his arms. The coach shrugs and slaps his thighs. “No rush to decide, I just wanted you to know it was an option as you get more.” He waves a hand. “Now go on, get to class.”
Hajime drops a bow and a “thank you” before running out the door, jogging to the train station to make up for lost time and to give an excuse for the thrill in his muscles.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 8 (13 days ago)
No he’s coming. There will be no living with him if he doesn’t. How was the game?
一
That night, Hajime stumbles back from the library late to an apartment smelling like his favorite food and a Tooru with greasy hands and a guarded hunch. “This isn’t me saying that I’m sorry,” he snaps as he stirs up the rice. Hajime slides into his slippers and pads over.
“Then this isn’t me saying it back.” Hajime comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Tooru’s middle and hiding his face between his shoulderblades. Tooru sucks in a breath, then relaxes, hand cupping over one of Hajime’s before going back to the stove. They stand there for a minute, a moment, Tooru humming as he cooks and Hajime burrowing in close like his bed after a long day. Which isn’t really an inaccurate simile.
“You should go clean up,” Tooru whispers. “Food’s almost ready.”
The vice in Hajime’s chest twists tighter. He nods, pulling back. Before he lets go, he lifts his heels a bit to drop a kiss on the nape of Tooru’s neck. Tooru gasps, elbows locking down his sides and Hajime’s forearms. The spoon clatters to the counter as he spins in Hajime’s hold to grab his face, eyes open, lips parted – parted over Hajime. He bends back with the force of Tooru’s offense, clinging to his elbows for balance, breath and presence of mind knocked clear out of him.
He’s gone as quick as he came, though, sucking away with a heave. Hajime blinks the stars from his eyes as Tooru shoves him away – towards the bathroom. “Go. You stink.” Hajime obeys in a daze, hack of his hand pressed to his mouth as Tooru’s ears glow by the heat of the gastop.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 8 (13 days ago)
GREAT!! We won even though their point guard nearly knocked Suyin out, 65-63 :9 But she got all her free points so there! And before you ask, yes I stretched after and I’m stretching now ^^
Ayumi*
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From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 8 (13 days ago)
Good girl. Keep yourself in shape and don’t overdo it like your fool of a brother.
一
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From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 8 (13 days ago)
Yeah yeah, I’m paying attention to my joints and all that. Did you know Appa has terrible knees, too? It runs in the family, I guess. They feel *fine*, I swear.
Ayumi*
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From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 9 (12 days ago)
Makes sense, but doesn’t not make Tooru an overworking bullheaded shitlord.
一
“Oh.” Tooru looks over from his textbook to Hajime’s seat next to him on their morning train two days later. “I forgot to tell you. Coach offered me a job.”
Tooru blinks. “A real job? Like after you graduate?” Hajime nods. “You’re not taking it, right?”
Hajime frowns. “Well I hadn’t thought about it much yet.” He turns to face Tooru more. “You think I shouldn’t?”
“Of course not!” Tooru snaps his book closed. “We’re getting out of this flea-infested city and making it anywhere else but here or Miyagi, remember?”
“I know that.”
“And if you stick around now doing the same thing you’ll be stuck doing it the rest of your life and you’re better than that!” Hajime glances around the train – no one’s paying his raised voice any attention, but they will if he keeps it up. Hajime lays a hand on his wrist.
“I never said it was serious, Tooru, just that he offered.”
“But I know you!” Tooru hisses, his firefly temper acting up again. “You’re comfortable here, and you’ll get complacent, and never change, and never do the things I know you can do!” Tooru’s nostrils flare. Hajime squeezes his arm.
“Calm down, kid. It’s not the end of the world.” He frowns. “I’m just trying not to keep secrets from you again.”
Tooru inhales deep, exhales. “Fine.” He sits back and hugs his textbook to his chest. “But you better not take it.”
“I won’t tell them that when we still have a year left. That’s rude.” He raises an eyebrow at Tooru. “Are you trying to run my life?” he asks, voice low.
“No! I’m just saving you from yourself!” He knocks their arms together, rests his chin on Hajime’s shoulder. “You would live in the same house with the same furniture and same job and same grocery list your whole life if I didn’t kick you in the ass to get you moving.”
Hajime glances over the ten centimeters to Tooru’s eyes. “So you’re the nagging housewife now?”
“I don’t nag.” He wraps a hand around Hajime’s elbow. “I push.”
“Yeah, right off a cliff.” He covers Tooru’s hand with his own long enough to pry it off, dropping it between them. “I can take care of myself.”
Tooru deflates, sagging over him. “I know.” He hides behind Hajime’s head, face on his backpack. “Sometimes I just wanna return the favor.” Hajime pats his leg, staring out the opposite window as the city flashes by.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 10 (11 days ago)
We won again! A better win this time, 68-48, but it was still a really good game. Tomorrow’s a double-header, so Coach is making us go to bed early. Take care!
Ayumi*
PS do you think nii-chan will like my birthday present??
Saturday, they set up camp in their living room for a day of homework assignments, playbook drafting, and job applications. It’s a routine of theirs, just like the run before and the gym after. Apparently, though, they have become too predictable, because they’re not even an hour into it when there’s a pounding at the door. Tooru falls on his face on the floor, groaning into the carpet, so Hajime sighs and gets to his feet to let them in.
“Mornin’, Bokuto.” He nods at the other door assailant. “Kuroo.”
“Sup, bitches, guess who has a chemistry exam on Friday!” Bokuto announces, arms outflung, two grocery bags swinging from his wrists. Kuroo smiles behind him with a shrug that shifts the backpack hanging off one shoulder.
“I didn’t have anything better to do today.” Hajime sighs and steps aside to let them in. Tooru is still face-down on the carpet, the picture of defeat. Bokuto drops his bags on the counter and hops over to lift him bodily, dumping them on the couch as Tooru flops like a ragdoll, wailing.
“Drama queen,” Kuroo mumbles from behind Hajime. Hajime raises an eyebrow over his shoulder, and Kuroo smirks, breezing past him to fall sideways in their armchair, backpack on his stomach as he digs in it and pulls out a book to pretend to ignore them with. Bokuto has arranged a limp Tooru on the couch to sit by his side as he lays out his study materials and starts firing off questions that Tooru grunts answers to. Hajime unpacks the snacks Bokuto brought, cracking open a coffee can and taking the spot on Tooru’s other side. Tooru flops on his lap before he can even prop his feet up, headfirst into Hajime’s thighs.
Hajime holds his coffee out of the way until Tooru settles, feet curled behind Bokuto’s back, then rests the concave dip of the can on Tooru’s head. “So, Bokuto. What’s your test on?” Hajime asks, sipping on his coffee. Bokuto lights up and launches into his rant about amino acids and free response questions, mostly falling on deaf ears as Kuroo sinks into his book and Hajime tunes him out, but he knows Tooru is listening. As often happens when Bokuto comes over to study, Tooru stops his temper tantrum long enough to get in a heated academic debate with Bokuto about stuff that flies right over sports medicine major Hajime and history major Kuroo’s heads.
It’s a few hours into an argument about DNA that has no end in sight when Kuroo catches Hajime’s eye and whaps his book closed. Hajime nods, extracting himself from the snake-wind Tooru has woven them into, scratching Tooru’s scalp as he stands. Tooru keeps arguing, but he drags a hand and an eye down Hajime’s arm, catching on his wrist before falling away. Hajime shakes it out and follows Kuroo to the door, shoving his keys and his wallet in his shorts pocket as he slides on his sandals.
They head down the stairs to the street in easy silence, weaving through the sidewalk crowd on the familiar path to the corner ramen place that knows Hajime’s name. Kuroo looks to the electric blue sky and says, “So. You slept with your roommate yet?”
Hajime catches himself before he can stumble. “What?”
Kuroo cuts his eyes at him. “What, you think no one would notice when you stepped up your PDA game? C’mon, man.” He shrugs. “I don’t really care one way or another.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Just – be careful.” Kuroo’s usual tiger’s eye smirk has fallen away, leaving behind a frown and a furrow. “Don’t go where you can’t come back from.” Hajime chews his cheek and waits half a block until Kuroo groans out a sigh, fists hanging. “Has anyone ever told you that silence is deadly?” Hajime doesn’t respond, and Kuroo drags a hand through his hair. “Back, oh, between high school and uni, I was a dumb teenager and made a move on a friend I had no business moving on.” He jerks a thumb back the way they came.
Hajime wrinkles his nose. “Bokuto?”
Kuroo chuckles, humorless. “Yeah. It started out fun, but it…” He trails off, index fingers twirling down around each other. “We weren’t really dating, per se, just – it got weird, fast.”
Hajime cocks his head. “But you two are fine.”
“Now.” He hunches his shoulders in, wild hair fluttering in a gust. “He only started talking to me again a few months ago, maybe a year.” They stop at a crosswalk, Kuroo staring at the flickering hand across the other street. “We had to draw some lines we never needed before. And it hurt, missing him like that.” The light changes, and they fight the other pedestrians to cross, conversation lost in the crowd for a bit, but Kuroo picks up the threads on the other side, ramen place in sight. “Just – make sure you don’t damage something you can’t replace.”
Hajime nods at Kuroo’s turned-away head. “I’ll remember that.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 11 (10 days ago)
He will. Pack some tissues with it because he’s a big sap. Good luck today.
一
After Bokuto and Kuroo leave, sofa touching turns into sofa heavy petting, seamless and wordless. Hajime’s over Tooru right now, knee jammed between couch cushions, mouth open and sloppy on Tooru’s neck. He wants to bite it, rough him up, make Tooru gasp and squirm and then pin him down so he can’t, but the back of Kuroo’s head on a packed street won’t fade away. He backs off, rubbing his cheek down the gentle give of Tooru’s as they breathe together, stomachs pressed. Hajime reaches down to adjust himself on instinct and doesn’t miss the hitch in Tooru’s pattern.
“Y’know, it’s been a week,” Hajime mumbles in Tooru’s ear. “We should probably make some rules about this.”
“Right. Rules. Okay.” Tooru’s hands slide up Hajime’s shirt to splay long fingers along his spine. “You’re not allowed to stop unless I let you.”
Hajime chuckles. “Not really what I meant, kid.” His skin twitches with every slip of Tooru’s hands, but he presses on. “I mean, like, uh-” Fuck. He ruts down into Tooru’s thigh wedged between his. “Is that too much?”
Tooru’s nails dig in as he arches to respond, hips jerking. “Ah- no, not – only in a good way.” Tooru catches Hajime’s ear in his teeth. He whimpers, bearing down again – fucking undulating over Tooru. Hajime’s head swims, but they need this talk now.
“Stop, Tooru-” Tooru licks a valley in his cartilage. “Back off.”
Tooru releases him, falling back on the throw pillow. “Is that our safeword now?” he pants, eyes blown wide.
“Maybe.” Hajime holds him down with his weight, a hand on Tooru’s exposed hip. “I don’t want to rush this, Tooru.” I don’t want to lose you.
Tooru brushes the back of his knuckles over Hajime’s cheek. “Me, too.” His throat works with his swallow. “You wanna – back off?”
Hajime hesitates, mouth hanging open, eyes flicking over every pore of Tooru’s face. “I don’t want to.” The arm not holding Tooru down is braced by his head; he twists his finger in a loop of Tooru’s hair. “But I might have to, or we’ll both regret it.”
Tooru’s greatest quality has always been that Hajime never has to explain anything to him. He nods, extracting his other hand from under Hajime’s shirt, resting it over instead. ‘Okay.” They hover still, breath comingling, unable to look away. Hajime crumbles first, falling back over Tooru, nose pressed hard into Tooru’s cheek as their appetites clash, all breaths and sighs and hunger. Hajime buries both hands in Tooru’s hair, holding him close as Tooru balls his fists on Hajime’s back, close as he thrusts up – don’t damage something you can’t replace–
He shoves back and up, sitting in a straddle over Tooru’s leg, their chests heaving. His front blows cold. “Sorry.”
Tooru shakes his head, blinking too fast. “No, you’re right.” He’s tight and hard beneath him, hair a mess, face and neck spitshined. “Back off,” he squeaks. Hajime climbs back off him so he can stand, twisting his shirt around straight. “I’m gonna shower.”
Hajime nods. “Good idea.” He stays knelt on the couch, fists on his knees, as Tooru hobbles a few steps – stops. Looks back over his shoulder.
“Maybe. Another time.” Tooru bites his lip. “You can join me?”
Hajime knows his own face is a red mess right now, but he gulps and nods. “Another time.” Tooru hides a smile and runs.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 11 (10 days ago)
Well we lost our second game today, 51-69, but since this is just seeding IT’S NOT OVER YET!! Plus we crushed the first team *flex*
I just hope he doesn’t think it’s creepy… but it’s all stuff I want him to have! He won’t be mad, will he?
Ayumi*
`````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 11 (10 days ago)
If he is I’ll handle it. That’s my job.
Keep your head up, it’s not over until the plane lands at home.
一
`````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 11 (10 days ago)
I /know/, Hajime-oppa, I’m just reporting from the sidelines. Not that I’m on the sidelines of course! Tournaments are just so /exhausting/, how do you deal?
Ayumi*
````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 12 (9 days ago)
We slept on the bus a lot. Eat a lot of carbs, but nothing too heavy to weigh you down.
一
````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 12 (9 days ago)
Okay, Okanto-kun, I GOT it. Today’s the break day between seed games and real games anyway, so we’re going for a team run and then probably a team nap J
Ayumi*
Maybe I’ll take the birth chart out that’s the creepiest thing in there
から: 徹
There’s a company in the biochem quad that I really really wanna talk to tell me to go talk to them
7月13日(月曜日)11:48
から: 岩ちゃん
Go talk to them
7月13日(月曜日)11:51
から: 岩ちゃん
What do they do?
7月13日(月曜日)11:51
から: 徹
Plant stuff!!
7月13日(月曜日)11:51
から: 岩ちゃん
You love that shit
7月13日(月曜日)11:52
から: 徹
You know I love plant stuff
7月13日(月曜日)11:52
から: 徹
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
7月13日(月曜日)11:53
から: 岩ちゃん
By the time I get over there to kick your ass into gear they’ll be gone
7月13日(月曜日)11:54
から: 岩ちゃん
If you don’t go I’m sleeping alone tonight
7月13日(月曜日)11:56
から: 徹
So cruel Iwa-chan! D:
7月13日(月曜日)11:56
から: 徹
Okay I’m going going going
7月13日(月曜日)11:57
から: 岩ちゃん
Go
7月13日(月曜日)11:57
から: 徹
AAAAAAAAAAAAH IWA-CHAN
7月13日(月曜日)12:25
から: 徹
THEY’RE SO COOL AND THEY’RE SO INTO ME I’M GONNA DIE
7月13日(月曜日)12:26
から: 徹
KIND OF LIKE YOU
7月13日(月曜日)12:27
から: 岩ちゃん
Ignoring that. Who are they?
7月13日(月曜日)12:29
から: 徹
spread.co.jp
7月13日(月曜日)12:30
から: 徹
They really like me iwa-chan
7月13日(月曜日)12:30
から: 徹
This could be The One
7月13日(月曜日)12:30
から: 岩ちゃん
Don’t get your hopes up
7月13日(月曜日)12:31
から: 岩ちゃん
Kyoto’s far away
7月13日(月曜日)12:31
から: 徹
I KNOW!!!
7月13日(月曜日)12:32
から: 徹
I think I’m in love
7月13日(月曜日)12:32
から: 徹
I’m gonna apply for EVERYTHING
7月13日(月曜日)12:33
から: 岩ちゃん
Chill out kid
7月13日(月曜日)12:34
から: 徹
Oh yeah, Mr. Take The First Thing That Comes Your Way?
7月13日(月曜日)12:35
から: 岩ちゃん
I haven’t given Kobayashi-san an answer yet
7月13日(月曜日)12:36
から: 徹
Yeah but you want it unless I make you move
7月13日(月曜日)12:36
から: 徹
You would come with me right? Where I go?
7月13日(月曜日)12:39
から: 岩ちゃん
Someone has to keep you from getting stabbed in an alley
7月13日(月曜日)12:40
から: 徹
!!! I knew I loved you for a reason
7月13日(月曜日)12:41
から: 徹
(≧◡≦) ♡
7月13日(月曜日)12:41
から: 岩ちゃん
Buzz off
7月13日(月曜日)12:44
から: 徹
That wasn’t a back off so ლζ*♡ε♡*ζლ
7月13日(月曜日)12:45
から: 岩ちゃん
I hate you go die
7月13日(月曜日)12:46
から: 岩ちゃん
I’m going to fucking class and turning my fucking phone off
7月13日(月曜日)12:47
から: 徹
♡✧。 (⋈◍＞◡＜◍)。✧♡
7月13日(月曜日)12:47
から: 岩ちゃん
GET OUT OF MY LIFE
7月13日(月曜日)12:48
から: 徹
Too late we signed a lease
7月13日(月曜日)12:48
から: 徹
( ˘ ³˘)
7月13日(月曜日)12:49
から: 岩ちゃん
Yeah whatever
7月13日(月曜日)12:51
から: 岩ちゃん
Congrats on the job thing you deserve it
7月13日(月曜日)12:51
から: 徹
Aww, love you too <3
7月13日(月曜日)12:52
から: 岩ちゃん
Phone. Off. Now.
7月13日(月曜日)12:52
から: 徹
へ(´д｀へ)
7月13日(月曜日)12:53
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 13 (8 days ago)
Leave it. He’ll love it.
一
It wasn’t like they never shared a bed before they upped their physical game. They have had sleepovers of varying content, location, age, and closeness since the Iwaizumis moved into the house down the street, on shared couches, futons, even a nap under the same kotatsu when they were small enough to fit. Those head to feet puppy piles were a little different than the story now, Tooru’s head cushioned on Hajime’s chest, Hajime running fingers through his hair, legs intertwined under the blankets of Hajime’s bed. Tooru draws idle circles on Hajime’s stomach with his long piano hands, joints that bulge a little, two light moles, almost freckles, on his thumb. Hajime adjusts the arm around Tooru’s shoulders, numb muscles tingling. “Tooru,” he whispers. Tooru jerks – almost asleep. He yawns into Hajime’s shirt. “You know there only a week until Aya’s in town, and you haven’t asked me a thing about her.”
Tooru doesn’t move, but his hand stills on Hajime’s stomach – he’s fully awake now.
“I prefer to learn these things on my own,” he says through another yawn, disrupting his intended aloofness. “Should I be asking things?”
“It’s not like you.” He buries his face in Tooru’s hair. “Normally I can’t get you to shut up about things you wanna know about.”
Tooru’s foot winds tighter around Hajime’s calf. “Maybe I just like keeping you on your toes.”
“You do have a habit of that.” Tooru’s hair has always been his favorite thing to touch, barring his skin, just as soft, less velvet and more freshly-washed sheets, cinnamon and vanilla. He buries his nose in it as his hand falls to his chest. Tooru’s idle circles turn to playing with his fingers, spinning the fidget ring Tooru got him a few birthdays ago that lives on his right pointer. “I promise you’ll love her.”
“I trust your judgment on that.” A sniff. “I trust you.” Ah. Hajime squeezes him tighter; Tooru lets his hand go to return the favor.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 14 (7 days ago)
Aaaaah! Anri said the same thing but it’s so weird! It’s all weird!!!! Maybe I should just find him something here and save the box for later or never
Hajime knows it can be hard for others to believe, but he is capable of making and keeping friends without the influence of Oikawa Tooru. Sure, most of the ones that last longer than a class are on the intramural volleyball team at his actual school, like their libero sitting across from him at their library table, but the point stands.
The libero in question throws a paper ball over their open laptops to land on Hajime’s keyboard, scowling over the tops. “What the hell’s wrong with you today, Hajime-kun?”
Hajime throws it back at his head, but he ducks away. “Nothing’s wrong, Morisuke-kun. I just – slept bad, is all.”
“Liar.” Morisuke points his pen at him under a pointed glare. “And you’re a shit liar.” Hajime scowls, but as someone who put up with Kuroo for over three years, Morisuke doesn’t bat an eye. “Is it your classes?” Shrug. “Money?” Shrug. “Girls?” Sneer. Morisuke raises an eyebrow. “Boys?” Frown. Morisuke sits back in his chair. “Ah.” Hajime bristles.
“What’s that mean?” he snaps, but Morisuke smiles.
“I’ve been wondering when you and that demonchild would figure your shit out.” He sips his lukewarm latte. “Congratulations.”
“No, that’s-” Hajime snarls his hands in his hair. “That’s not really it.” Morisuke frowns, eyebrows drawn together over his thermos. “It’s not like that,” he offers, weak.
“I don’t follow.”
“We’re not-” Hajime hides his face behind his laptop. “He’s not my boyfriend,” he growls out, “but I guess he takes up that place in my life.”
“So he’s your boyfriend.”
“No!” He bangs his face on the keyboard. “I- I- well, he’s important to me. I need him. And it’s – nice. The new stuff.” He rolls his head so his temple is on the blank space by his touchpad, staring out the window to the right at the neighboring building. “But he’s still just… Tooru, to me. Not a boyfriend.” He pulls a face. “Not that I need one. Or a girlfriend. That’s too much work.” Morisuke doesn’t respond right away, but the clack of his keys stops. Hajime glances at his screen – there’s several lines of gibberish on the lab report he was writing. He deletes them with his nose, hands trapped behind his knees.
Morisuke clears his throat. “Well.” Hajime’s shoulders hunch in. “I’m not totally sure I get it, but if it’s anything like what I think it is, you better get over yourself about this fear of the boyfriend label.” A double-tap of the thermos going back to the table. “I’ve seen it before, and I’ve never seen situations where ‘it’s complicated’ works out well.”
Hajime props his chin on his hand, raising his eyebrows. “I talked to Kuroo about this already.” Morisuke scowls. “It’s not like that.”
“Uh-huh.” Morisuke flips the cap on his thermos on, off, on, off. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 15 (6 days ago)
Bring it. I’ve never been wrong about what he likes before.
一
It’s a quiet moment at morning practice, Hajime watching spiker drills on the sidelines, arms crossed and toes tapping, when the head coach pauses beside him. “So, Iwaizumi-san. Thought anymore about my offer?”
Hajime grips the bicep under his hand. “A little.” He shrugs. “I dunno, coach. Tooru wants to get out of here when we graduate.”
He can feel the heavy burn of the coach’s stare on the side of his face, but he keeps his eyes forward on the color blurs of practice. “You know there’s more to life than one friend, Hajime-kun.”
Hajime shakes his head. “It’s not like that.” He stretches his arms above his head, a sigh popping into place. “It’s… different.”
The coach huffs. “That is well out of range of my business.” He heaves a sigh, taking off his worn baseball hat to rub a hand over his short hair. “Well, if you stay in town, you’ll always have work to do here.” He crams the hat back on his head. “Can’t say I really expected you to take it. You’re beyond ready for your own team.” His teeth flash in his beard. “I just really don’t want to lose you.”
Hajime chuckles as the drill winds down, the conversation wrapping up with it. Before he can think too hard about it, he blurts out, “You got any friends in Kyoto?”
The coach looks hard at him and his red face, then his eyes crinkle. “I may have one or two.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 15 (6 days ago)
WE GOT THROUGH THE FIRST ROUND!!!! *~*~*67-61*~*~* READY FOR ROUND TWO LET’S KICK IT UP OLD SCHOOL STYLE I CAN CONQUER THE WORLD I CAN MEET MY STUPID BROTHER
*AYUMI*
Wednesdays are nights Hajime always gets home late, right around twilight. He’s used to Tooru curling up against him, twining and meowing like that clingy housecat he’s never owned. But tonight – tonight. Tooru is waiting at the door, bending back his fingers, one at a time, as Hajime kicks off his shoes in the entryway and dumps his backpack next to Tooru’s. Hajime watches him fidget from the corner of his eye. “Something wrong?”
Nine times out of ten, Tooru will circle a bush ten times before he gets to the point, but once in a while he blindsides Hajime by slicing right through it. “What the hell are we, Iwa-chan?” Hajime straightens and Tooru looks at his bare toes. “I mean, I thought we knew, I knew, but I-” He runs a hand through his hair (shorter, since high school). “It’s hard to explain.”
Hajime nods. “I know.” They face each other, Tooru a full head taller with the entrywell distance. He looks up to meet Hajime’s eyes. Hajime asks, “What do you want to be?”
“I-” He trails off, hands tumbling around each other. Hajime crosses his arms and waits him out. “I think I might have to look beyond Japanese for it.” Hajime nods; Tooru starts to pace, the four steps from wall to wall. “I mean, boyfriend is just – silly. It’s stupid. And significant other is so formal, and yeah we’re practically married but I would walk barefoot on snails before I called you my-” He swallows his tongue, collapsing on the nearest wall. “Why is this eating me up?” he asks the ceiling. “It’s just a word.”
“Because other people care about it,” Hajime answers, stepping up. “And you’ve always cared too much what other people think.”
Tooru scowls. “Have not.”
“Have too.” Hajime steps into his space, but doesn’t touch him. Yet. “I don’t really care if no one else gets it,” he says, “as long as we do.”
Tooru’s eyes flit over his face, eyes raw. “I’m not entirely sure I do anymore.” He cocks his head, hooking his thumbs in the beltloops on Hajime’s sides. “What do you want us to be, Iwa-chan?”
Hajime swirls his spit around his dry mouth, shakes his head. “I don’t-” He hides his face in Tooru’s shirt, hides from his lancet eyes. “I didn’t think I needed this,” he says, heavy hands sliding up and down Tooru’s torso, “but I don’t think we can stop now that we’ve started.” He presses his forehead in the junction of neck and shoulder. “I can’t afford to lose you, either.” He feels Tooru’s nod, hair shifting. A hand curls up on Tooru’s other shoulder. “I have no fucking clue what to call us anymore.”
“Well.” Tooru coughs. “We know it’s mutual.” Nod. “We know it’s affectionate,” he says, punctuating it with fingers sliding into Hajime’s back pockets. “Somewhere between platonic and romantic,” he whispers, lips on Hajime’s ear.
“You’ve been spending too much time in that psych class,” Hajime grumbles. Tooru squeezes his ass.
“Are we – do you think this is exclusive?”
Well wasn’t that a new thought. Hajime opens his eyes, vision limited to the three moles on his neck – how did he feel about someone else touching them? Mouthing at them like he was about to do? Biting them-
He chomps on Tooru’s neck, shocking out a yelp and a shaky laugh. “Y’know, I always knew there was a jealous bitch buried in there.” Tooru nudges at him with his nose until he turns his face up. “I guess you’re just my person,” he breathes before their mouths meet, a slow-burning hunger. Hajime pins him to the wall, feet shuffling so he can shove a leg between Tooru’s, hand on the neck, hand on the waist, teeth retracted as Hajime delves into the brown rice and curry under Tooru’s tongue. Tooru breaks away, and Hajime dips back to Tooru’s neck moles, tracing his tongue over them, nerves singing with every stilted gasp. “Okay, great talk,” Tooru babbles, “good ground covered. If people ask I’m just calling you by boyfriend until we figure out a better-”
“I’m not your stupid boyfriend!” Hajime growls, pounding the wall by Tooru’s head. Something crunches under his fist; he rears back as a few flecks of plaster crumbles onto a shocked Tooru’s shirt. He blinks. “I knew this place was a piece of shit, but really?”
Tooru cracks up, collapsing in Hajime’s arms, bordering on hysteria. Hajime holds him, a few sympathy chuckles leaking out until they’re both cackling on the floor, weak against each other – Hajime’s stomach hurts. He wipes his face on Tooru’s shirt (it’s actually his, but they stopped trying to separate their clothes years ago) and sits back, fingers laced at the small of Tooru’s back. “We really needed that, huh?”
Tooru nods, teeth flashing. “You gotta admit, at least a little of this is absurd.” He gets to his feet, then helps Hajime stand, hauling him up by his forearms. “C’mon, let’s eat, and then we can cuddle and whine about how no one gets us until we fall asleep with the TV on.”
Hajime smiles, blue sky in his chest. “I love you so much, Tooru.” Tooru’s face glows red, and he turns away without a word, dragging Hajime off by the wrist.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 16 (5 days ago)
Atta girl, keep it up :)
一
6:48 am 一: 
6:49 am 一: Look at this disgusting bitch
7:18 am 貴貴: UHMM??
7:18 am 貴貴: HOLY SHIT
7:19 am 三__三: We need the breakdown on this asap
7:22 am 一: ??? It’s just Tooru being a fool
7:23 am 貴貴: HAJIME-KUN YOU AND YOUR LIFE ARE A MESS
7:24 am 三__三: He’s shirtless and so is your arm he’s drooling on
7:26 am 一: Oh right that
7:26 am 貴貴: HE JUST. “OH RIGHT THAT”
7:28 am 一: I guess it’s a thing now
7:29 am 三__三: Wow.
7:29 am 貴貴: BREAKING NEWS: IWAOI IS REAL
7:29 am 貴貴: I’M CALLING EVERYONE
7:32 am 一: It’s not that kind of real
7:33 am 一: It’s the same we’re just. Doing this now
7:35 am 三__三: Now that sounds like a clusterfuck in the kitchen
7:36 am 三__三: I have to see this
7:38 am 貴貴: We were gonna surprise you this weekend for hanger-kun’s birthday
7:38 am 貴貴: But now it’s no longer a surprise we’re coming in
7:39 am 三__三: I’ve got the beer
7:40 am 貴貴: I’ll bring the hot stuff
7:40 am 貴貴: (The hot stuff is Issei)
7:41 am 一: Yeah I got that
7:41 am 三__三: (･ω<)☆
7:41 am 貴貴: (─‿‿─)♡
7:43 am 一: No flirting in the line chat
7:43 am 三__三: Hajime-kun you literally just posted a post-sex victory pic
7:44 am 一: It’s not sex
7:44 am 貴貴: Oooohohohohho??
7:44 am 一: It’s called “none of your business”
7:45 am 三__三: Oh honey
7:45 am 貴貴: As if
7:46 am 三__三: We’re way past that stage of friendship
7:46 am 貴貴: We’ll squeeze it out of you tomorrow
7:47 am 一: Fine. Whatever
8:31 am (ꈍᴗꈍ): IWA-CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!
8:33 am 貴貴: HAH!!
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 16 (5 days ago)
OOOOOOOOOOOH WE’RE ON A ROLL NOW!! 74-59 WE GOT THIS IN THE BAG IT’S GONNA ROCK WE GONNA ROCK THIS JOINT
****AYUMI********
Issei and Takahiro’s train from Miyagi after classes gets in at its usual time around seven, both of them raring and starving. After they drop their shit off, Hajime directs all four of them to a dive bar three train stops and a ten minute walk from his and Tooru’s place. Kuroo likes to take him here when he thinks Hajime needs to get laid (he doesn’t), but it’s a good place to catch up – and for him and Tooru to conduct the experiment they talked about in the dark of his bedroom last night.
“So, Hajime-kun,” Takahiro drawls out as Issei and Tooru fight over the jukebox. “What the hell?”
Hajime sneers into his beer, heels kicking against the braces of his barstool. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you,” he snaps. “It’s just started happening a few weeks ago, and now we’re here, figuring it out.” He gulps at his beer – dark, a stout. “No big confession or whatever it is you fools expected from us.”
Takahiro sighs, chin in his hand, fingers drumming on his temple. “You’re so boring, Hajime-kun. What happened to the spitfire we knew in high school?”
“He grew up.” He thumps an empty glass down on the bar as the song changes from house EDM to something older, something swingy. He doesn’t have to turn to know Tooru is sauntering up behind him, arm sneaking around his waist and chin on his shoulder.
“Hey there, handsome,” he purrs into Hajime’s ear. Hajime grunts and gestures at the bartender for another one. Issei retakes his vacated stool on the far side of Takahiro, hand tucked in his boyfriend’s waistband, face pressed to his neck. They whisper at each other below the threshold of what carries around the bar as Tooru continues, “Have you picked out a test target?” He sure hadn’t. He shook his head as the bartender, who was too used to grabby drunks of all numbers and genders to bat an eye at Tooru’s monkey-cling, replaced his glass. Tooru sighs, “It’s like you don’t even care about doing this right.”
Hajime circles a thumb on the inside of Tooru’s wrist, fingers pressed on the back of his palm – when had he even starting holding Tooru’s hand? “I guess not.”
Tooru hides his scowl in Hajime’s neck – his hair smells like tequila. “The worst, Iwa-chan.” Hajime hums and drinks his beer one-handed, eyes unfocused, zoning out in the direction of the liquor bottles wallpapering the back of the bar.
It’s still early for this place, still dinnertime, so the real action hasn’t kicked in yet. After a round of sake, though, Issei’s feet are loose enough for Takahiro to drag him to the empty wood of the future dance floor, starting it with tipsy laughter and soles on soles. A few other clumps of people join them over the course of a song or two, almost like a real thing. Hajime watches from the sidelines, Tooru still plastered to his back, the space between them humid but he doesn’t notice.
“You’re such a dope,” Tooru bites into his neck. “Smiling like that about Issei and Taka.”
“Hmm?” Oh, so he is. He shrugs. “I like when my friends are happy.”
“A man of simple pleasures.” Tooru grips his chin and forces him to look at a pretty lady a few years older than him, leaning against the bar, talking to her friends with a light smile. “There’s your test target.”
Hajime licks his dry mouth. “I haven’t been really feeling girls lately.” Tooru’s grip tightens before he lets go.
“Fine, then she’s my target.” He whispers in Hajime’s ear, lips on his lobe, “Watch carefully.” Hajime shivers as Tooru’s warmth abandons him, not even a lingering touch as he weaves around the semicircle bar to her side, getting there just as her friends leave for the dance floor. Hajime watches as they introduce themselves, her struggling not to be overwhelmed by his Tooruness, him fighting not to stare back at Hajime. Hajime hides in his beer.
When he comes out, there’s a stranger in Takahiro’s seat. He grins at Hajime – he’s got a metal ring around one of his teeth? That’s hotter than Hajime would admit three beers ago. The stranger holds out a hand. “Kouzume.” Hajime takes it.
“Hajime.” He’s got a wide, strong grip, green tips of his hair fading to bleach, fading to brown. Hajime leans it to watch the color move. “I like your hair.”
The stranger Kouzume laughs, nose wrinkling. “I like your style, Hajime.” He waves at the bartender. “Another of his and a whiskey Coke.” The bartender nods, face impassive even though Hajime knows he’s been watching Tooru fondle him like an octopus for half an hour. A good man. “So, what brings you here, Hajime?” Kouzume asks, leaning in. Hajime shrugs.
“Just catching up.” He drains the last of his current beer in a few large gulps so he can trade it out for the new one. “What about you?”
His grin splits wider – there’s a gold-capped tooth mirror to the ring. “Just trying to start the night off right.” He swirls his straw in his drink before clinking it against Hajime’s glass, not looking away as he chugs half it down. “Looking at a good beginning now.” Hajime smiles back, face hot from the alcohol. Kouzume winks over his glass. “What do you do when you’re not making my life brighter, Hajime-kun?”
Hajime snorts. “I’m a student. And a coach.”
“Really? What kind?”
“Volleyball.”
Kouzume’s bleached eyebrows raise. “No shit, huh? My little sister plays that.” He flips some hair out of his face. “Of course, she sucks at it, but it’s the family curse to suck at sports, so it’s not like it’s her fault.” Hajime smiles, eyes narrowing. Kouzume swirls his drink. “I was too smart to try when I was in high school and stuck with drama.”
“You seem like a natural.” Kouzume laughs, head thrown back. When he comes back down, the sake runs Hajime’s hand through his tricolor bangs – rough from overdyeing, coarse and stuff. Not the hair he’s used to touching. Kouzume blinks at him, smile falling into a gape. “Do you bring good luck like a calico?” he asks. The grin returns.
“Would you like to find out?”
Hajime opens his mouth to respond, but something hot and heavy slams into his back, squeezing the life out of him by the waist. “Hello, sweetheart,” Tooru croons, poisoned honey in Hajime’s ear. “Sorry I took so long.”
Hajime shoves a hand in Tooru’s face. “Back o-” He turns to scowl at Tooru and catches the heavy stare. “Ohff.”
“Well, clearly I’m interrupting something.” Hajime looks back to Kouzume, who smiles at him and throws a bill on the bar. “Nice talking to you, Hajime-kun.” He takes his drink and continues his circuit. Hajime watches a chain on his belt swing for a few steps until Tooru licks his hand and he jerks away, wiping it off on his jeans.
“That guy was up to no good,” Tooru growls. “I was saving you.”
“He was fine, Shittykawa, unless flirting is ‘no good’.”
“Well then I guess you should be arrested, huh?”
Hajime spins on his stool to face Tooru head-on, his curled body posture and dark eyes and puppy pout. “You got jealous.”
Tooru gasps. “As if! Why would I get jealous about some two-tone lowlife hitting on my-” He clams up, but Hajime grins.
“Boy, you’re so jealous you’re sweating midori.” Hajime hooks two fingers in Tooru’s waistband, guiding his sulk in between his knees. “It’s adorable,” the beer says as he cranes up to peck the corner of Tooru’s mouth. Tooru pouts to the side, face on fire.
“You weren’t watching me at all, were you?” he whines.
Hajime shrugs. “I’ve been friends with you for too long to take offense at everyone you get your eyelashes at.”
Tooru scowls at him. “You set me up.”
“This was your idea.” Tooru’s hands settle on his parted thighs. “Feeling possessive, Tooru-kun?”
Tooru sucks in a breath. “Yes.” He bend in to kiss Hajime, hard and fast, the edge of the bar digging into Hajime’s lower back for a hot second before he pulls back. The alcohol has whittled down Hajime’s normal scatter-brained focus to one point, the rest of the bar whited out so all he sees is Tooru’s red face in front of him, gelled hair pulled wild. He reaches up and yanks him down by the neck to kiss him better, mouth open and eyes closed. Tooru whimpers against him, sound lost to the bar, a finger finding a hole in Hajime’s jeans and digging in.
Hoots and catcalls drag Tooru away, although it’s a few blinks before they register to Hajime. Takahiro and Issei flank them, getting revenge for six years of ridicule in one go. Tooru snaps out at them, slapping at their shoulders while Hajime tries to blink everything back into focus, like he just stepped into sunlight, legs locked behind Tooru’s knees to keep him from running away.
“Y’know, that was pretty hot,” Takahiro was saying when Hajime’s attention drags away from Tooru’s peeking collarbones. “Think we look that hot when we go at it, Issei?”
“I hope so.” Issei tucks Hajime’s chin up with a knuckle. “Aw, look, he’s got that James Dean daydream look in his eye,” he sings in English. Hajime jerks away and punches him in the gut – misses. Issei smirks.
“So this one’s got that red-lipped classic thing that he likes?” Takahiro responds, English shaky and singing voice even shakier. Issei smiles at him behind Tooru.
“I love you, marry me.” Hajime huffs, jerking their attention back from their flirting. “Do we need to find you two someplace private, or are you going to have sex on this bar?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” the bartender jabs in as he passes behind them. Tooru barks a laugh, the rest of them following. Hajime unlatches his legs, letting Tooru go, but he stays right where he is, finger swirling under the denim hole and not helping Hajime’s concentration at all.
“I hate to admit it, but I’m beat,” Takahiro says, wiping tears from his eyes. “You ready to head out?” Hajime nods, tugging Tooru in for a hug and fishing for Tooru’s wallet in his back pocket as Tooru stiffens under him, squeaking. He swings back and digs out Tooru’s credit card, slapping it on the bar and gesturing to include all four of them on it. Tooru squawks as Issei and Takahiro cackle at him for getting played. Hajime grins and winks at him, handing back his wallet. A thrill rocks through him as Tooru turns red, looking away as he accepts it and sticks it back in his pocket.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 17 (4 days ago)
Keep it up, I believe in you
一
Earlier in the morning than they would like to admit, the four of them are laying around the living room, drinking coffee (or tea, in Issei’s case) and watching the morning news. Hajime can tell by the particular weave of his friends in the armchair that Issei and Takahiro had sex in his bed last night. He’ll burn those sheets next time he’s in the country. Tooru has his knees pulled to his chest, leaning back on Hajime’s side on the couch, hands curled around his mug. Hajime has a hand trapped between Tooru’s hip and the couch cushion, tracing patterns on the exposed skin there, as he tries to pay attention to the weather report.
“You know, Taka,” Issei says out of nowhere, swirling his teabag around by the tag, “I meant it last night. When I said you should marry me.”
Tooru freezes against Hajime’s still shoulder as they both zero in on Takahiro’s shocked pink face and Issei’s turned away bit lip. “What?”
Issei shrugs, setting his mug on the coffee table so he can sit up, dragging Takahiro straighter in his lap. “We can go look for a ring today, or get those tattoos you like – fuck it, we could go to the courthouse, we got witnesses right there.” Hajime’s mouth drops open at Issei’s casual thumb jerk at them as Takahiro goes into conniptions is Issei’s arms. Issei nuzzles his cheek, and he settles. “I love you,” Hajime only hears because of the total silence, “marry me.”
Takahiro’s wide eyes fix on them over Issei’s shoulder; Hajime smiles, and Tooru nods with a curl of a wave. Takahiro swallows. “Let’s start with the ring and go from the-” Issei grabs his face and smacks him on the mouth, Takahiro’s eyes flying wide until they sink closed and he melts into him, the corners of their smiles visible around the kiss.
“Ah, young love,” Tooru croons. Hajime flicks him in the forehead.
(Maybe he’ll save the sheets and give them as a wedding present.)
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 18 (4 days ago)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH I GOT THIS!!! WE TOTALLY GOT THIS
AYAAAA
As could be expected, the two newly-engaged lovebirds fuck off for the rest of the day and most of the night to do what newly-engaged lovebirds do. Hajime and Tooru go grocery shopping before they settle into study mode – they really need toilet paper and rice. Tooru is quiet on the walk to the store, looking around at their surroundings, passersby, his phone – anything but Hajime. One of these moods. “So,” Tooru finally says as the automatic store doors slide open. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Fancy that. I couldn’t tell.”
Tooru presses on. “Do you think I should get my– Ayumi, anything?” He covers the word stumble by fighting with the grocery cart stack to extract one. He swings it around and wheels in from the breezeway, heading to the right as Hajime keeps pace. “I mean, I’m not sure what it’s customary to bring when you’re meeting your long-lost birth sister for the first time, but since you seem to know all about this kid and don’t care much for decency or custom, maybe you have an idea?”
Hajime raises an eyebrow over the cheese slices he’s considering. “You know, Tooru, it’s not healthy to bottle up your emotions like that. Please, let it out.”
Tooru makes a gross face as he throws bacon in the cart and swings around to the tea and spices aisle. “Smartass.” He pauses to the side, staring blankly at rows of canned beans. “It’s just… I don’t know anything about her. My own sister. I don’t know how tall she is or her favorite color or what her sleep position is or – or what her favorite tea is!” He flaps a hand at the tea shelves behind him. “How am I supposed to be family with someone I don’t know?”
Hajime stares at him, his wind-caught hair and spotty cheeks. He reaches over for a peach-flavored matcha – Tooru’s favorite ever since it hit the market, and Aya’s ever since Hajime asked if it had made it to Korea – and shoves it into Tooru’s chest. Tooru blinks down at it, hand catching it on reflex. “You know her better than you know,” he says, and with a furtive glance down the aisle, steps in and up to his toes to press a small peck to Tooru’s cheek. He pats it and runs away to the fish counter, rounding the aisle before he hears the ‘Iwa-chan!’s called from the distance.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 18 (4 days ago)
Kill them.
You still like that peach matcha, right?
一
````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 18 (4 days ago)
So violent, Iwa-chan!! I WILL
((Uh, yeah, it’s my fave, why?))
Ayumi*
`````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 18 (4 days ago)
No reason. Don’t get fouled out or arrested
一
After a cuddly and glowing Takahiro and Issei leave them Sunday afternoon, Tooru and Hajime break out the homework and call their moms before they get distracted by things they don’t want to tell their moms they do. Sundays have always been crossover days for the Iwaizumis and Oikawas, so when Tooru calls his mom on speaker, she answers in similar format.
“Okaa-sans, guess what!” Tooru shouts after a brief greeting and the local weather reports. “Taka and Issei are getting married!” There are gasps and coos from the other line as Tooru preens in the armchair, feet in Hajime’s lap on the ottoman, phone balanced on his (good) knee. Hajime has his fingers dug into the muscles around the bad one, working as they talk. “It was very informal,” Tooru says when they settle down. “Ane would have a fit.”
“Oh, just like those boys. I always knew they had it in them.” Tooru’s mom pauses. “Do Matsukawa-san and Hanamaki-san know?”
Tooru makes a face with a dramatic shrug at Hajime, who rolls his eyes and answers, “Not sure. Might be best to wait until they bring it up.”
A click of a tongue. “That’s my boy, Hajime-kun.”
“Now if only you two would join them,” Hajime’s mom adds in her annoying suggestive tone. The moms titter as the sons groan in unison. “I’m just saying! You two need to settle down with someone nice already and put your mothers’ hearts to rest.”
Hajime and Tooru exchange a look over their ownerless gym shorts, interwoven limbs, the furniture they bought together, the tea Hajime made for both of them on the coffee table. “You sure about that?” Hajime asks.
“Of course, if you boys live together much longer you’ll have a common law marriage anyway,” she adds. “Not like that’s a bad thing, sweeties-”
Tooru flutters his eyelashes at Hajime as the moms joke and prod, mouthing, ‘my husband’ at Hajime. Hajime grabs his calf with both hands and twists in opposite directions; Tooru squeals and squirms, phone falling to the floor. Hajime laughs and leans over the legs in his lap to pick it up, mouth apologizing to the side of his knee when his words don’t want to. “What was that?” a mom asks.
“Tooru dropped the phone,” Hajime answers. “And we’re not getting married. Ever.”
“Never say never, Ha-chan!”
“You boys have been attached at the hip since you could walk,” Tooru’s mom says. “It would be a hardworking lady indeed who could deal with that.”
This wasn’t exactly a new conversation – their moms had always said they would either marry each other or kill each other, even before two boys wasn’t so kosher. With… recent developments, though, it made the phone and Tooru’s leg heavy in his lap. He and Tooru stare at each other, eyes wide, as the moms gossip more on their own tangent, the conversation tide flowing away from marriages to teenage memories without the boys having to guide it. Tooru smiles at Hajime, a winter sun in July. The corner of Hajime’s mouth tucks in, not quite a smile back.
“Oh – Miki-chan, we’re still on the phone!” Tooru’s mom cries out. The other line laughs. Tooru rolls his eyes.
“If you two are gonna giggle all day then we’ll just leave,” he says with his put-on aloof air. Hajime flicks his calf with his fingernail.
“Fine, fine, we’ll let you go,” Tooru’s mom says. “You doing anything fun for your birthday, Tooru-chan?”
Tooru whips up, doe eyes fixed on Hajime, who shrugs and yields the floor to his decision with an open hand. Tooru bites his lip. “Maybe,” he says. “Bye, Okaa-sans.”
Tooru’s mom laughs. “Okay, you can have your secrets. I look forward to hearing about it! Bye, now. Love you.”
Tooru bites his lip. “Love you, too.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 19 (3 days ago)
we lost in overtime in the semis, 80-81
tournament’s over
ayumi
`````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 19 (3 days ago)
You did your best, Aya-chan, and you did it with your friends. I’m proud of you. Excellent work.
一
Monday is Tooru’s twenty-first birthday, but under that it’s just another day. They grab granola bars for breakfast on the way to practice, where Bokuto promptly tackles Tooru to the wrestling mats piled at the side of the locker room for his traditional birthday hug while Tooru kicks under him and the team laughs. When Tooru wins and huffs off to the gym, Bokuto calms down and plops on the bench behind Hajime’s locker. “So, what you got Cupcake for his birthday?”
Hajime shrugs. “I bought groceries.” Bokuto snorts. “Look, when you basically own the same shit it’s hard to think of something new, okay?”
Bokuto hums, patting a beat on his thighs, legs bouncing. “Well then, are you gonna do anything?” Hajime opens his mouth to bite back a no- ah. Bokuto’s eyebrow arches higher. “Oho?”
“No, not-” He chews his cheek as Bokuto watches him, wide gold eyes patient and pleasant, and the locks around the secret he’s held for so long crumble away. “Tooru’s adopted,” he says in a breathy rush, “and we’re going to meet his birth sister for the first time tomorrow.”
Bokuto leans back, holding his knees for balance, whistling down three octaves. “Wow. That’s thick stuff, man.” He rocks back in. “So how old is she?”
“Fifteen.” Hajime picks at a fraying end of a shoelace. “She’s visiting Japan with her basketball team.”
“Oh, so she’s not Japanese? Then that means-” He cuts his eyes behind him at the door to the gym where Tooru exited. “I knew there was something funky about him.”
Hajime smiles. “Half. She was mostly raised in Korea with her- their, dad’s family.”
Bokuto hums, rocking side to side, before hopping to his feet and stretching up. “Well, good luck with that, sounds like a trip.” He grins, switching topics like his hair changes direction. “Ready to kick off practice, coach?”
Hajime blinks, then grins back, nervous energy fading to just energy. “Only if you are, punk.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 20 (23 hours ago)
We’re staying to watch the final and then training up to Tokyo tomorrow. It’s still a bummer but at least this trip won’t be a total wash with you in it J
Ayumi*
`````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 20 (21 hours ago)
It wasn’t a wash, you still made it really far in a foreign tournament and got to succeed with your team. Nothing shameful about that. Next time, I’ll have to be there to watch it happen.
We’ll meet you outside the McDonald’s around the corner from the hotel you’re staying at – you can’t miss it. Think 14:00 will work?
一
Hajime does make dinner that night, taking over what Tooru usually gets to first, serving breakfast for supper with pancakes from the rice cooker. A drop of wandering syrup trickles into Tooru’s bed, dishes left for tomorrow’s Hajime to worry about as he tries to take Tooru apart, kiss by kiss. Tooru sighs under him, soft and pliant, and just lets him. It’s kind of really fucking hot.
Hajime slithers up Tooru’s prone, ruffled body, shirt rucked up and waistband shoved low, dropping party-favor kisses up his bared skin to his neck – his open mouth. Tooru snarls his hands in his hair, his shirt, yanking it up to match his own – bare stomachs press together, and Tooru whimpers-
Hajime breaks away, panting, bracing himself over Tooru on his elbows. He grins and says, “Y’know, it is your birthday for a few more hours. If you wanted to-”
“Twenty.”
Hajime blinks at Tooru’s heaving shoulders. “Come again?”
“This is the twentieth makeout session we’ve had,” Tooru explains, fingertips tracing up and down the hollow of Hajime’s spine. He swallows, gasps. “You said we were strong enough to handle this many of them, so.” His hands still. “Do you want to back off now while we’re ahead?”
“What? No!” Hajime knocks their foreheads together, harder than affection (harder than intended). “Stop being a fucking idiot counting shit like this and just. Tell me what you want for your shitty birthday.”
“I want you.”
Hajime closes his eyes against the raw, unfiltered spices in Tooru’s irises. “You already have that,” he mumbles. “Try again.”
“I’m a man of simple pleasures, Iwa-chan.” Hajime snorts, and Tooru blows on his face in return. “Just stay with me, for another year, another month, and I’ll be satisfied.”
“You’re never satisfied.”
Tooru huffs. “Well, you’re as close as I get.” He weaves his fingers together at the small of Hajime’s back. “Just don’t leave me,” he whispers in the hollow under Hajime’s ear. Hajime swallows on a tight throat.
“You know me,” he squeezes out. “Once I get comfortable somewhere I never leave.” Tooru laughs, a bare exhale, and tilts his chin to kiss him, Hajime falling in.
Twenty-one.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
July 20 (17 hours ago)
Sounds great! See you then J
Ayumi*
`````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
7:58 (8 hours ago)
Bring everything. I’ll know if you took something out.
一
`````
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
8:30 am (8 hours ago)
Jerkface
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes you can.”
“Ye- no, I really – Yes! No-”
Tooru yelps as Hajime grabs his hair and yanks him down to eye level on the crowded sidewalk two blocks from the meeting point. “Listen,” he growls, “Aya-chan is going out of her way now just to meet you. She’s a harmless, nice, normal girl who happens to be a blood relative. You’re going to march down there, hug your sister, and spend a few hours getting to know her.” Hajime shakes Tooru by the hair. “Got it?”
“Back off, Iwa-chan!” Tooru whines, peeling back Hajime’s fingers with a pout. Hajime scowls, kicking his shin as he releases his hair just to grab his arm and drag him on, the golden second-story arches in sight.
Hajime shoves Tooru down to sit on the windowsill by the door, taking the spot next to him with crossed arms and legs. Tooru’s chin hits his chest, hair failing to obscure the worry lines buried around his eyes. Hajime leans into his side for a moment and stays, sweaty skin sticking in the July heat. Tooru’s weight presses back, his breathing evening out.
Hajime checks his watch – ten till. He stands and stretches, about to ask if Tooru wants a milkshake when something screeches and slams into him. He stumbles back into the window, brown hair clouding his vision, as the screeching continues, muffled against his shoulder. He smiles and pats Ayumi on the back. “Hey there, Aya-chan.”
The screeching pauses for breath; she rears back to beam at him, face red, hair a little damp. “Hajime-oppa, you haven’t changed a bit! I wasn’t sure I’d recognize you since I was like twelve and you were a lot taller then but I did and it’s so good to see you!” She hops on her toes, death grip on his biceps. “Hey!”
Hajime chuckles. “Good to see you, too, Aya-chan. Now let me go so I can introduce you.” She jumps back, nearly knocking over a couple passing by, and adjusts her backpack as she turns her wide eyes to Tooru, still sitting on the windowledge, same wide eyes pinned on her.
“Holy shit,” they gasp together. Hajime’s laughter bursts out of him, and he collapses against the window, hands over his face, tears on his palms. The siblings laugh with him after a bit, shakier and weaker, but joint laughter all the same. He wipes his eyes and shoves off the window as Tooru gets to his feet, staring across the meter of space between him and his sister. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” She starts – hesitates – runs into him, arms around his waist and face in his chest. “Hi,” she mumbles. Tooru’s deer in the headlights look wavers to Hajime, who nods and waves him on. He reaches up with a tremoring hand to touch her hair, cupping the back of her head – her shoulders jerk. He buries his face in it and holds her back, faces hidden as they commune. Hajime snaps a picture for posterity, then stands back with his arms crossed, reveling in the satisfaction of a plan coming together.
Someone jostles his shoulder as they pass. He glares at their back, then touches Tooru’s elbow. “C’mon, let’s find some place less crowded.” There’s a dual sniff, and they back away. Ayumi winds her arm around Tooru’s elbow, then reaches out for Hajime’s with the other. He smiles and lets her lead them down the sidewalk away from the general crowds.
“You’re taller than I expected,” Tooru says down the eight centimeter difference between them. Ayumi grins up at him.
“Thanks! Same to you!” A group approaches them on the sidewalk, so Hajime breaks away to walk ahead and take them to a tucked-away café around the corner, letting the siblings have their moment. They deserve it.
The café is quiet and squishy, mismatched armchairs and warm wood. The logistics of ordering and seating break some of the tension up, so when they settle around a table, Ayumi’s feet curled under her and Tooru’s knees pulled to his chest, they’re lose enough to smile. Hajime sips his coffee as Ayumi fiddles with the zipper on her backpack – sets her jaw and yanks it open. She pulls out an old shoebox, secured with purple duct tape peppered with silver stars, covered in so many marker layers it’s impossible to tell what brand the original contents were. She holds it out to Tooru, head bowed, hair hanging in a wavy curtain.
“This is for you,” she says through it. Tooru blinks and accepts it, turning it over – the contents rattle and tumble. She flicks her eye to Hajime through a break in her hair; he gesture her on with a wave of his coffee cup, and she spills out, “Ever since Hajime-oppa told me I have a brother, I’ve been picking up stuff I thought you might like.” Tooru’s eyes widen at her, at the box. She tucks some hair behind a red ear with a nervous smile. “I really hope it’s not creepy.”
“No, it’s…” Tooru fiddles with a peeling corner of the tape, smiling down at the box. “Sweet.”
She heaves a huge sigh, a dramatic drop of her shoulders. “That’s a relief, I was terrified you would think it was a serial killer move and run away.” He grins and starts to unravel the layers of duct tape. She crawls over the meter of space between their chairs to perch on the arm of his, draping over the back, tea mug balanced on her knee. “Some of it’s kid stuff from when I was little,” she says, foot swinging and banging on the chair, “but Hajime-oppa wouldn’t let me take anything out.” She wrinkles her nose at Hajime as Tooru jerks up, brow furrowed. Hajime shrugs back, hiding behind his coffee.
Tooru breathes in deep as he gets the last of the tape off and sets the ball of it on the table, both lips bit as he opens the box. He raises an eyebrow. “There’s a lot in here.”
“I’ve been collecting for a while.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder and reaches in. “Here, this is the last thing I added – I found it at the athletic store when I needed new shoes.” She pulls out a metal volleyball keychain, dangling it by the clip in front of his face. She swing it to ping his forehead and giggles as he flinches and snatches it in the air. “Gotcha!”
“Oh yeah?” He grabs her wrist and whaps her fist back into her face. “Stop hitting yourself, Aya-chan!”
“Hey!” She falls on him, headlocking him and rubbing her fist into his scalp; he laughs, glowing. Hajime smiles behind his half-empty coffee.
The café flows around their nested island as they go through the box, piece by piece, not just unearthing the trinkets inside but the stories they represent, flashes of a family different than the Oikawas, but only that – not better or worse. Hajime watches Tooru swallow back emotion a few times – at the birth chart, like he expected, but also at the shell from a family beach vacation, the champagne cork from her first real New Year’s Eve celebration, a party favor from her thirteenth birthday. Tooru thaws out as Ayumi warms up, touches gaining confidence, drinks forgotten. Once in a while they remember he’s there, but he’s content to compare and contrast – they have the same smile, the same wrinkles it makes around their brown eyes, but Ayumi’s are darker while her hair is lighter, her nervous tics less pronounced. Or maybe he just knows Tooru too well.
What finally makes Tooru crack is a worn paper napkin tucked into a corner. He unfolds it as Ayumi’s still telling the story of how her new puppy ate half her cake at that thirteenth party – his face falls. “Oh.”
“Mmm?” She leans in – grimaces. “Shit, I forgot that was in there.” She drums her fingers on her empty mug. “Well, Hajime-oppa showed us a picture of you when he visited, and even though I’m pretty sure they stayed away from internet stalking you, well. You’re still their kid.” She rubs his shoulder. “She drew your face a lot, that first month or so after we found out.”
He swipes at his eye with the heel of his hand. Hajime stands, taking their dishes back to the counter to order refills. Tooru’s mostly under control again when he returns with their cups on a tray and two croissants to split. Hajime puts the tray down on the table and thumbs a last salt trail away from Tooru’s cheek; Tooru smiles up at him, catching his wrist.
“Hajime-oppa, why did you never tell me you started dating my brother?” Hajime blinks at Ayumi’s cocked head, her pursed mouth. He winces.
“Ah- well, we’re not, really, it’s…”
“Complicated?” Tooru supplies with a shrug. She pulls a face – that lightning understanding.
“Oh!” She smiles. “I got a person like that for me, too – well, I mean, we’re not that level-” she flips her fingers at – oh. Hajime draws his hand away from Tooru’s neck. “But Anri’s more than a best friend to me.” She beams. “Everyone needs a person, right?”
Tooru and Hajime exchange a glance, Tooru’s eyes soft. “Yeah.”
The shoebox empties out into trickling conversation, but when the sun slants down the street to spark on the sidewalk, Hajime’s coffee is done and his ring is spinning. Tooru reaches over and slaps a hand on it. “You ready to get out of here?” he asks. Hajime’s mouth quirks up with his one-shouldered shrug. Tooru turns his charmer smile on his sister. “Sorry for Iwa-chan’s ADD ass, Aya-chan.” She giggles, shoulders jerking. He stands, dusting off his lap, as she unfolds her long legs and stretches.
“I hate to say it, but this tournament has worn me out,” she yawns. “I’m surprised I didn’t fall asleep on you, nii-chan.”
Tooru slings an arm around her shoulders, pinning her to his side. “You could never fall asleep with me around, Aya-chan!” She laughs, head knocking back on his shoulder. Her smile fades as she leans more into his hold.
“I know it won’t be for a while,” she says, tone low for once, “but one day. The four of us need to get together.”
Tooru stills, cheek on her crown, eyes half-closed. “Maybe someday,” he sighs, “but this is good enough for me now.” He smiles at Hajime. “I guess I’m satisfied.”
“Well I’m not.” She slaps his chest. “Okaa-san and Appa would love you, nii-chan. I want them to.” She turns into his chest, nuzzling into him. “I want you to love them.”
Tooru inhales, exhales. Hajime cleans up again, smiling to himself as he gives them their space.
The sun is behind most of the skyscrapers when they leave the café, shoebox tucked under Tooru’s arm, a new contact on his phone. She hugs Hajime’s waist. “Sorry we didn’t really talk much,” she apologizes over his shoulder, her chin a comfortable height for it. He pats her back.
“That’s okay. We’ve talked enough.” He holds her out at arm’s length, looking over her budding features. “We’ll see each other again.”
Her smile blooms. “Yeah we will.” A last squeeze – she spins on her heel to strangle Tooru one last time – releases him. “Bye, boys!” she yells, waving as she runs down the street. A hand swipes at her face before she’s lost to the evening crowd, leaving Tooru and Hajime alone. Hajime touches Tooru’s elbow.
“Regrets?” Tooru shakes his head, eyes still fixed on Ayumi’s vanishing point, knuckles white around the shoebox.
Hajime hops on his toes to kiss his cheek, then takes Tooru home.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: IN JAPAN
5:32 pm (2 mins ago)
Thought you might want this. It was nice to see you.
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