wordcount: 1152 // ao3 this is so dumb i hope you enjoy lmao <3
The moment the door clicks shut behind him, Tobio knows something is wrong. The flat is too quiet. Deathly quiet. Quiet as in the calm before the storm sort of quiet.
He slowly lowers his bag, still heavy with textbooks he borrowed from the university library, to the ground, almost in his caution.
He licks his lips, eyes darting around the deceptively empty and innocent looking entryway. His shoes are here and his slippers are missing, which has to mean...
"Oikawa-san?"
At first, there's no response. Tobio stays frozen in the hallway, on alert and wary. He knows it's just supposed to be them in the flat tonight, everyone else still at home for Golden Week.
"Oikawa-san?" He calls out again, slowly — carefully — inching his way forward into the five-bedroom flat.
It's been four months since they've all started living together, four months since Oikawa's tantrum at the idea of his best friend doing a six-month exchange placement abroad turned into canoodling Tobio into sharing a flat with whoever else he could get his hands on. He still remembers the desperation in Oikawa's voice when he reached over across the ball cart at practice at the end of last year, grabbed Tobio's wrist, and implored him (as snootily as possible) to take the last room in the last-minute apartment he'd found. And it would be no lie to say Tobio wasn't elated, because — could it be? — the rift between them looked like it was finally healing! Tobio finally had a chance to not only be an underclassman to the senpai he so looked up to, but be his friend, too!
Little did he know it was part of a revenge scheme against Iwaizumi to try make him feel as replaced and unneeded as possible. Hence why he walked in on moving day to find the other two third years from Aoba Johsai struggling to stuff a monstrously giant bag of fluffy toys into one of the bedrooms and, of all people, Ushijima (who Tobio's pretty sure Oikawa sneers at even harder than he does at him) cooking a simple lunch in the kitchen.
All Iwaizumi did when he realised who Oikawa had set himself up to live with for the next year was laugh, pat Tobio's back (the memory of which still ignites a happy curling feeling of pride in his stomach) and wish his best friend luck.
Tobio sighs at the memory, turning into the kitchen.
On the court he's doubtless a genius, but in every day life Tobio will probably forever struggle to understand the absurd enigma that is Oikawa Tooru.
It's with this thought fresh in his mind that he starts back at the sight awaiting him. Oikawa is sitting at the raised kitchen table, legs crossed, chin resting in his hands, elbows propped up on the table in a pose of inviting anticipation. The table is covered in salad.
He knew something was wrong.
"Hello, Tobio-chan~" Oikawa's grin is predatory. "Aren't you home late today?"
"I..." Tobio doesn't know what else to do other than frown in bewilderment. The table is laden with freshly washed lettuce leaves, very clearly laid out for display. "I had to... study. Oikawa-san, why is there salad all over the table?"
"You tell me, Tobio-chan. Hmm?"
He kind of looks like how he does right before he executes a jump serve. Good luck, Iwaizumi had said... Tobio holds back a quiet groan.
"I don't know, Oikawa-san."
He has to be patient. He's trained for this. He's used to this. It's been four months. It'll be worth it, Oikawa will be his friend by the end of it, just— just put up with it somehow.
"Have you checked your text messages recently, Tobio-chan?" Without warning, Oikawa hops off the stool and stalks towards him, wicked grin widening.
Uh oh.
Tobio digs out his phone as fast as he can and sees he has a new unread message from the man in front of him. With a cursory glance at Oikawa-san, who simply gestures forward for him to presumably read it, he fumbles with his phone and unlocks it.
He swears it was going so well as well, he hasn't a clue why Oikawa might be mad at him, they were just texting an hour ago and Oikawa was being so friendly then—
Tobio reads the new message.
An awkward silence stretches between them as Tobio glances from his phone various freshly-washed lettuce leaves covering the surface of their kitchen table.
"O-Oikawa-san—"
"What do you have to say for yourself, Tobio-chan?"
"Please stop leaning on me like that, Oikawa-san."
"Oh, like this?"
"Oikawa-san—"
"Like this?"
Tobio grunts at the sudden weight dropped on his back. Oikawa hands off his shoulders, swaying dangerously. The irritation in his voice is palpable.
Tobio grits his teeth. "Do I really have to—"
"Do you see all these fresh leaves I just washed for my bedtime snack? Do you see that?" Oikawa leaps away from him, brandishing to the table dramatically, before he turns around and whips his arm up to point at Tobio accusingly. "You. You did this. You're responsible. I hope you know that."
Without Hanamaki and Matsukawa around, why does Oikawa become so much more... childish? Tobio rubs at the back of his neck. At least Ushijima isn't here, or he'd be looking at a full-blown temper tantrum, slammed doors and huffing, the whole show.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Tobio-chan?"
He does feel a little guilty. And his sandwich at lunch was all the more delicious for the humus he put in it.
"Shall I go buy you some more—"
"I should think so!" And like that, the scowl clears from Oikawa's face and is replaced with a wide, almost blinding grin. He pulls something out of his back pocket and hands it Tobio with a flourish. "Here's a list of the rest of the groceries we need."
Tobio stares at the paper in his hand. "What."
"And don't forget to put the bread at the top of the bag, okay, I hate it when it's all squished," Oikawa is saying, quickly tidying away all his lettuce leaves. "Oh, and Makki asked me to remind you about the tofu, he didn't like the brand you brought last time."
He's almost left when Tobio actually starts to take in what's written on the list.
"H-Hey, I can't carry all of these things, there's ten bags worth—!"
"Ah, well, I would, Tobio-chan, I'd really love to help, you know." Oikawa grins at him, swinging back from his bedroom doorway just to send him a wide smile and a wink. "But without my bedtime snack, I simply don't have the energy."
Tobio's glower deepens. "Are you kidding me."
Oikawa wiggles his fingers at him teasingly before disappearing into his bedroom. "Thank you, my beautiful son, that is all," he coos before daintily shutting the door behind him.
FILL: Team Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, G
wordcount: 1152 // ao3
this is so dumb i hope you enjoy lmao <3
The moment the door clicks shut behind him, Tobio knows something is wrong. The flat is too quiet. Deathly quiet. Quiet as in the calm before the storm sort of quiet.
He slowly lowers his bag, still heavy with textbooks he borrowed from the university library, to the ground, almost in his caution.
He licks his lips, eyes darting around the deceptively empty and innocent looking entryway. His shoes are here and his slippers are missing, which has to mean...
"Oikawa-san?"
At first, there's no response. Tobio stays frozen in the hallway, on alert and wary. He knows it's just supposed to be them in the flat tonight, everyone else still at home for Golden Week.
"Oikawa-san?" He calls out again, slowly — carefully — inching his way forward into the five-bedroom flat.
It's been four months since they've all started living together, four months since Oikawa's tantrum at the idea of his best friend doing a six-month exchange placement abroad turned into canoodling Tobio into sharing a flat with whoever else he could get his hands on. He still remembers the desperation in Oikawa's voice when he reached over across the ball cart at practice at the end of last year, grabbed Tobio's wrist, and implored him (as snootily as possible) to take the last room in the last-minute apartment he'd found. And it would be no lie to say Tobio wasn't elated, because — could it be? — the rift between them looked like it was finally healing! Tobio finally had a chance to not only be an underclassman to the senpai he so looked up to, but be his friend, too!
Little did he know it was part of a revenge scheme against Iwaizumi to try make him feel as replaced and unneeded as possible. Hence why he walked in on moving day to find the other two third years from Aoba Johsai struggling to stuff a monstrously giant bag of fluffy toys into one of the bedrooms and, of all people, Ushijima (who Tobio's pretty sure Oikawa sneers at even harder than he does at him) cooking a simple lunch in the kitchen.
All Iwaizumi did when he realised who Oikawa had set himself up to live with for the next year was laugh, pat Tobio's back (the memory of which still ignites a happy curling feeling of pride in his stomach) and wish his best friend luck.
Tobio sighs at the memory, turning into the kitchen.
On the court he's doubtless a genius, but in every day life Tobio will probably forever struggle to understand the absurd enigma that is Oikawa Tooru.
It's with this thought fresh in his mind that he starts back at the sight awaiting him. Oikawa is sitting at the raised kitchen table, legs crossed, chin resting in his hands, elbows propped up on the table in a pose of inviting anticipation. The table is covered in salad.
He knew something was wrong.
"Hello, Tobio-chan~" Oikawa's grin is predatory. "Aren't you home late today?"
"I..." Tobio doesn't know what else to do other than frown in bewilderment. The table is laden with freshly washed lettuce leaves, very clearly laid out for display. "I had to... study. Oikawa-san, why is there salad all over the table?"
"You tell me, Tobio-chan. Hmm?"
He kind of looks like how he does right before he executes a jump serve. Good luck, Iwaizumi had said... Tobio holds back a quiet groan.
"I don't know, Oikawa-san."
He has to be patient. He's trained for this. He's used to this. It's been four months. It'll be worth it, Oikawa will be his friend by the end of it, just— just put up with it somehow.
"Have you checked your text messages recently, Tobio-chan?" Without warning, Oikawa hops off the stool and stalks towards him, wicked grin widening.
Uh oh.
Tobio digs out his phone as fast as he can and sees he has a new unread message from the man in front of him. With a cursory glance at Oikawa-san, who simply gestures forward for him to presumably read it, he fumbles with his phone and unlocks it.
He swears it was going so well as well, he hasn't a clue why Oikawa might be mad at him, they were just texting an hour ago and Oikawa was being so friendly then—
Tobio reads the new message.
An awkward silence stretches between them as Tobio glances from his phone various freshly-washed lettuce leaves covering the surface of their kitchen table.
"O-Oikawa-san—"
"What do you have to say for yourself, Tobio-chan?"
"Please stop leaning on me like that, Oikawa-san."
"Oh, like this?"
"Oikawa-san—"
"Like this?"
Tobio grunts at the sudden weight dropped on his back. Oikawa hands off his shoulders, swaying dangerously. The irritation in his voice is palpable.
Tobio grits his teeth. "Do I really have to—"
"Do you see all these fresh leaves I just washed for my bedtime snack? Do you see that?" Oikawa leaps away from him, brandishing to the table dramatically, before he turns around and whips his arm up to point at Tobio accusingly. "You. You did this. You're responsible. I hope you know that."
Without Hanamaki and Matsukawa around, why does Oikawa become so much more... childish? Tobio rubs at the back of his neck. At least Ushijima isn't here, or he'd be looking at a full-blown temper tantrum, slammed doors and huffing, the whole show.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Tobio-chan?"
He does feel a little guilty. And his sandwich at lunch was all the more delicious for the humus he put in it.
"Shall I go buy you some more—"
"I should think so!" And like that, the scowl clears from Oikawa's face and is replaced with a wide, almost blinding grin. He pulls something out of his back pocket and hands it Tobio with a flourish. "Here's a list of the rest of the groceries we need."
Tobio stares at the paper in his hand. "What."
"And don't forget to put the bread at the top of the bag, okay, I hate it when it's all squished," Oikawa is saying, quickly tidying away all his lettuce leaves. "Oh, and Makki asked me to remind you about the tofu, he didn't like the brand you brought last time."
He's almost left when Tobio actually starts to take in what's written on the list.
"H-Hey, I can't carry all of these things, there's ten bags worth—!"
"Ah, well, I would, Tobio-chan, I'd really love to help, you know." Oikawa grins at him, swinging back from his bedroom doorway just to send him a wide smile and a wink. "But without my bedtime snack, I simply don't have the energy."
Tobio's glower deepens. "Are you kidding me."
Oikawa wiggles his fingers at him teasingly before disappearing into his bedroom. "Thank you, my beautiful son, that is all," he coos before daintily shutting the door behind him.