Ship: ushijima/oikawa Fandom: haikyuu Major Tags: none Other Tags: angst (unresolved endings), mentions of natural disasters Word Count: 473
***
Ushijima looks like a volcano when he's angry, his face red and the rest of him seemingly bursting at the seams, steamed and ready to explode. He has no control over his features, so Oikawa doesn't think that Ushijima intends for the sight to discourage further provocation. Which is good, really, because it has the opposite effect. Oikawa, unable to help the urge to probe and prod at all that pent-up rage, does as dictated by his worst instincts, smirking in the face of Ushijima's disbelieving eyes, his affronted frowns, as if he's trying to reconcile his delusion of never being wrong with actual reality. Oikawa hates it when Ushijima gets like that, hates being reminded of the self-righteousness that had made him want to do Ushijima's face in from middle school to high school, hates that this side of Ushijima seems to come out most when it concerned him.
Ushijima looks like a volcano when he's angry but he doesn't look like it now, his shoulders slouched and his gaze helpless and lost, like someone whose home and belongings have just been ransacked by a hurricane. Oikawa's often been likened to a natural disaster, but this is just ridiculous.
He would have said so too, on any other day, except that Ushijima seems like he'd collapse with another careless word from Oikawa's mouth. Just one more push, one more incisive truth, and Oikawa would win the argument—but he knows, too, that they would both lose the war.
Still, it's tempting. Still, there's always going to be a part of him that craves victory in any form, no matter what the cost. Still, Ushijima's defeat at his hands would seem like vindication, even after all this time.
Ushijima's eyes leave his to acquaint themselves with his shoes, and he surrenders to pulling a chair out from under the table to take a seat, as if he's too weak to hold himself up any longer.
How dramatic, Ushiwaka-chan, Oikawa wants to say, but it won't come out. He hates this too, this dead-eyed stare, this resignation from someone so staunch and resolute in everything he does. If Ushijima had reached for him instead, had tried to chase the viciousness from his mouth, it would have been easier to push him away, saying, don't you dare kiss me, and leave the apartment first without looking back.
As things stand, he can't do that, not if he wants to have something to come back to.
"I can't stand you," says Oikawa, softer than he means, and Ushijima looks up, parts his lips as if to impart the same sentiment, but closes them again, like he'd rather weather another hurricane than say anything cruel to Oikawa.
And that, Oikawa thinks, swallowing around the lump in his throat, is what he might hate the most.
FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T
Fandom: haikyuu
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: angst (unresolved endings), mentions of natural disasters
Word Count: 473
***
Ushijima looks like a volcano when he's angry, his face red and the rest of him seemingly bursting at the seams, steamed and ready to explode. He has no control over his features, so Oikawa doesn't think that Ushijima intends for the sight to discourage further provocation. Which is good, really, because it has the opposite effect. Oikawa, unable to help the urge to probe and prod at all that pent-up rage, does as dictated by his worst instincts, smirking in the face of Ushijima's disbelieving eyes, his affronted frowns, as if he's trying to reconcile his delusion of never being wrong with actual reality. Oikawa hates it when Ushijima gets like that, hates being reminded of the self-righteousness that had made him want to do Ushijima's face in from middle school to high school, hates that this side of Ushijima seems to come out most when it concerned him.
Ushijima looks like a volcano when he's angry but he doesn't look like it now, his shoulders slouched and his gaze helpless and lost, like someone whose home and belongings have just been ransacked by a hurricane. Oikawa's often been likened to a natural disaster, but this is just ridiculous.
He would have said so too, on any other day, except that Ushijima seems like he'd collapse with another careless word from Oikawa's mouth. Just one more push, one more incisive truth, and Oikawa would win the argument—but he knows, too, that they would both lose the war.
Still, it's tempting. Still, there's always going to be a part of him that craves victory in any form, no matter what the cost. Still, Ushijima's defeat at his hands would seem like vindication, even after all this time.
Ushijima's eyes leave his to acquaint themselves with his shoes, and he surrenders to pulling a chair out from under the table to take a seat, as if he's too weak to hold himself up any longer.
How dramatic, Ushiwaka-chan, Oikawa wants to say, but it won't come out. He hates this too, this dead-eyed stare, this resignation from someone so staunch and resolute in everything he does. If Ushijima had reached for him instead, had tried to chase the viciousness from his mouth, it would have been easier to push him away, saying, don't you dare kiss me, and leave the apartment first without looking back.
As things stand, he can't do that, not if he wants to have something to come back to.
"I can't stand you," says Oikawa, softer than he means, and Ushijima looks up, parts his lips as if to impart the same sentiment, but closes them again, like he'd rather weather another hurricane than say anything cruel to Oikawa.
And that, Oikawa thinks, swallowing around the lump in his throat, is what he might hate the most.