Ship: oikawa tooru &/ kageyama tobio Fandom: haikyuu Major tags: none Other tags: future fic Word count: 611
this was such a funny prompt and then I got sentimental... sorry.
***
“Do you know where we’re going, Oikawa-san.”
“It’s not an adventure if I just tell you,” Oikawa huffs as he turns the map away from Kageyama. The yellow summer sun is like a warm weight upon their shoulders, and even with all the car windows rolled down and the wind whipping lightly through their hair, they’re both sweating in the late afternoon air; Oikawa’s damp bangs are pinned up with twin silver hairclips and his light blue tshirt sticks wetly to his collarbones, and he looks faintly ridiculous. “How about you trust your older and wiser senpai a little, Tobio-chan.”
Kageyama doesn’t take his eyes off the road. He’s a very careful driver. “I think your map is upside down,” he blurts out instead. “But I do, Oikawa-san. Trust you,” Kageyama adds, and now he does look over briefly, and his blue eyes are piercing in the golden light. “I trust you.”
They’re supposed to be taking the highway from Miyagi to Tokyo, following the white line that maps the curve along the coast to the dorm where their names are stacked together, waiting for them to settle in with the newly reformed National Team. It’s a little more than a year out to Los Angeles 2028, and while this was not their first trip together, two boys from the green hills of home to the sprawling city with its high-rise stadiums, and then back again during the summer lulls, it’s certainly the first trip where Oikawa had not just set his phone to guide them and fallen asleep to the k-pop power ballads he always insisted on listening to while Kageyama drives.
(“How can you listen to that awful music for hours while he just sleeps through it,” Yamaguchi had laughed at him once over coffee, during one of the reunions they always have for him when he visits home.
“Because he never sleeps that peacefully at any other time,” Kageyama had replied quietly.)
“Next exit, Tobio-chan! This one!” Oikawa points at the map and then at the quickly approaching exit sign. He’s leaning forward in his excitement and the sweat glows on his forehead. “I know exactly where we’re going. I always do.”
“Yes, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama just says, because despite everything that has happened between the two of them, Oikawa somehow always did.
The exit takes them onto a side road that quickly turns into a local road, unpaved and bumpy with gravel and packed dirt, and Kageyama meticulously drives through it all as Oikawa navigates him, focused and quick fingers directing like they’re on the court of their final losing match, and not just trying to avoid the sandy patches that have started to crunch under the wheels.
“See, an adventure, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa breathes happily as they stop at a sandy overlook that spills out over the sea. They go out to stretch their legs, and it’s like walking into a painting; the sun is already moving against the horizon, and the clouds are lofting brilliant in purple and red and that pale orange that feels like something warm squeezing inside of your lungs. “I thought you might have needed a little bit of one in your boring, dull, volleyball only life.”
“You have a boring, dull, volleyball only life, too, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama points out. The sand shifts under his sneakers and he feels all kinds of unsteady.
But Oikawa has already walked ahead and if he hears him, he makes no sign, and all Kageyama can do is watch as Oikawa runs a hand through his sweaty hair, and scuff one shoe in the grass that grows green and fragrant by the roadside; looking out, looking ahead.
FILL: TEAM KAGEYAMA TOBIO/OIKAWA TOORU, G
Fandom: haikyuu
Major tags: none
Other tags: future fic
Word count: 611
this was such a funny prompt and then I got sentimental... sorry.
***
“Do you know where we’re going, Oikawa-san.”
“It’s not an adventure if I just tell you,” Oikawa huffs as he turns the map away from Kageyama. The yellow summer sun is like a warm weight upon their shoulders, and even with all the car windows rolled down and the wind whipping lightly through their hair, they’re both sweating in the late afternoon air; Oikawa’s damp bangs are pinned up with twin silver hairclips and his light blue tshirt sticks wetly to his collarbones, and he looks faintly ridiculous. “How about you trust your older and wiser senpai a little, Tobio-chan.”
Kageyama doesn’t take his eyes off the road. He’s a very careful driver. “I think your map is upside down,” he blurts out instead. “But I do, Oikawa-san. Trust you,” Kageyama adds, and now he does look over briefly, and his blue eyes are piercing in the golden light. “I trust you.”
They’re supposed to be taking the highway from Miyagi to Tokyo, following the white line that maps the curve along the coast to the dorm where their names are stacked together, waiting for them to settle in with the newly reformed National Team. It’s a little more than a year out to Los Angeles 2028, and while this was not their first trip together, two boys from the green hills of home to the sprawling city with its high-rise stadiums, and then back again during the summer lulls, it’s certainly the first trip where Oikawa had not just set his phone to guide them and fallen asleep to the k-pop power ballads he always insisted on listening to while Kageyama drives.
(“How can you listen to that awful music for hours while he just sleeps through it,” Yamaguchi had laughed at him once over coffee, during one of the reunions they always have for him when he visits home.
“Because he never sleeps that peacefully at any other time,” Kageyama had replied quietly.)
“Next exit, Tobio-chan! This one!” Oikawa points at the map and then at the quickly approaching exit sign. He’s leaning forward in his excitement and the sweat glows on his forehead. “I know exactly where we’re going. I always do.”
“Yes, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama just says, because despite everything that has happened between the two of them, Oikawa somehow always did.
The exit takes them onto a side road that quickly turns into a local road, unpaved and bumpy with gravel and packed dirt, and Kageyama meticulously drives through it all as Oikawa navigates him, focused and quick fingers directing like they’re on the court of their final losing match, and not just trying to avoid the sandy patches that have started to crunch under the wheels.
“See, an adventure, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa breathes happily as they stop at a sandy overlook that spills out over the sea. They go out to stretch their legs, and it’s like walking into a painting; the sun is already moving against the horizon, and the clouds are lofting brilliant in purple and red and that pale orange that feels like something warm squeezing inside of your lungs. “I thought you might have needed a little bit of one in your boring, dull, volleyball only life.”
“You have a boring, dull, volleyball only life, too, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama points out. The sand shifts under his sneakers and he feels all kinds of unsteady.
But Oikawa has already walked ahead and if he hears him, he makes no sign, and all Kageyama can do is watch as Oikawa runs a hand through his sweaty hair, and scuff one shoe in the grass that grows green and fragrant by the roadside; looking out, looking ahead.