"Tell me I'm pretty," he says, but what he means is validate me, watching Iwaizumi and waiting for him to read between the lines, like he's so good at doing.
Iwaizumi scowls at him. "Fuck off, Oikawa."
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," he says, because the boys at school are saying it behind his back, like it's a bad thing. He just wants one person to say it to his face, for it to be a good thing.
Iwaizumi scoffs, shaking his head. "The guys are just jealous of you, that's all. Everyone knows you don't actually wear makeup."
"What if I did wear makeup?" Oikawa asks, then hastily adds, "Not that I do, but would you have a problem with it if I did?"
Iwaizumi stares at him, like he's never considered the concept before. He probably hasn't, and that doesn't matter. What matters is his answer.
"Guess not," he shrugs. "People can do what they like, right?"
Oikawa nods, satisfied. He buys the lip gloss he's been eyeing at the pharmacy around the corner, smiles pleasantly when the cashier tells him his girlfriend will love it.
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," he says, his voice cracking because he feels so ugly inside and he can't stand it.
Iwaizumi rubs soothing circles into Oikawa's back. "It's okay. You lost your temper. Just don't do it again, okay?"
Oikawa rests his head against Iwaizumi's shoulder, shutting his eyes tightly as they cling onto each other's hands tightly for comfort.
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," Oikawa says with an exaggerated wink, because he can't think of what else to do when Iwaizumi drops by without warning, catching Oikawa in his lip gloss, his hair pulled up into tiny pigtails.
Iwaizumi just stares at him. Oikawa's heart sinks, his stomach twisting, but he plasters his smile to his face, determined to make light of this situation until Iwaizumi's gone. It's probably not even going to take long.
"Come here, Iwa-chan, I'll do your hair next."
Iwaizumi turns and flees. Furious at himself and doubly furious at Iwaizumi, Oikawa throws the lip gloss into the bin and resolves he's never going to wear any again.
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," Oikawa says the next day as they walk to school, because he's nothing if not a masochist. He does it for the way Iwaizumi shifts uncomfortably beside him and he's an idiot. He should be grateful that Iwaizumi's still walking with him to school at all.
"Is that what you want to be?" Iwaizumi asks at length. He gestures at Oikawa, trying to encompass what he saw yesterday as he struggles to put it into words. "…Pretty?"
Oikawa winks at Iwaizumi. "I've always been pretty."
"That's not—" Iwaizumi begins, then cuts himself off, sighing heavily, dropping the conversation entirely with an, "Okay."
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," Oikawa says, and he's never meant it more in his life.
He's terrified about this, even if they're not leaving the house at all. Iwaizumi's been trying. He's been getting better. He's been asking questions when he doesn't understand things, looking even more information up on the internet. He's been really good about this, after the initial shock.
Oikawa is wearing a new shade of lip gloss—one that Iwaizumi pressed into his hand the other day with an awkward, incoherent mumble—and eyeliner. He feels pretty, and he feels satisfied. He's allowed to be a boy, even like this. He can be a pretty boy if he wants. It's never felt like an insult to him anyway.
"You're pretty," Iwaizumi breathes, looking at him, properly taking him in. He places his hands on either side of Oikawa's face, pulling him in so their breath is on each other's lips. "You're so pretty, Oikawa. With or without your makeup. You're always pretty. Always have been, right?"
Oikawa smiles. "If you kiss me, you're going to get lip gloss everywhere."
"Is that a bad thing?" Iwaizumi asks, raising an eyebrow and pulling him in.
"Not at all," Oikawa replies, leaning right into Iwaizumi's arms.
FILL: SWAG 2016
"Tell me I'm pretty," he says, but what he means is validate me, watching Iwaizumi and waiting for him to read between the lines, like he's so good at doing.
Iwaizumi scowls at him. "Fuck off, Oikawa."
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," he says, because the boys at school are saying it behind his back, like it's a bad thing. He just wants one person to say it to his face, for it to be a good thing.
Iwaizumi scoffs, shaking his head. "The guys are just jealous of you, that's all. Everyone knows you don't actually wear makeup."
"What if I did wear makeup?" Oikawa asks, then hastily adds, "Not that I do, but would you have a problem with it if I did?"
Iwaizumi stares at him, like he's never considered the concept before. He probably hasn't, and that doesn't matter. What matters is his answer.
"Guess not," he shrugs. "People can do what they like, right?"
Oikawa nods, satisfied. He buys the lip gloss he's been eyeing at the pharmacy around the corner, smiles pleasantly when the cashier tells him his girlfriend will love it.
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," he says, his voice cracking because he feels so ugly inside and he can't stand it.
Iwaizumi rubs soothing circles into Oikawa's back. "It's okay. You lost your temper. Just don't do it again, okay?"
Oikawa rests his head against Iwaizumi's shoulder, shutting his eyes tightly as they cling onto each other's hands tightly for comfort.
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," Oikawa says with an exaggerated wink, because he can't think of what else to do when Iwaizumi drops by without warning, catching Oikawa in his lip gloss, his hair pulled up into tiny pigtails.
Iwaizumi just stares at him. Oikawa's heart sinks, his stomach twisting, but he plasters his smile to his face, determined to make light of this situation until Iwaizumi's gone. It's probably not even going to take long.
"Come here, Iwa-chan, I'll do your hair next."
Iwaizumi turns and flees. Furious at himself and doubly furious at Iwaizumi, Oikawa throws the lip gloss into the bin and resolves he's never going to wear any again.
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," Oikawa says the next day as they walk to school, because he's nothing if not a masochist. He does it for the way Iwaizumi shifts uncomfortably beside him and he's an idiot. He should be grateful that Iwaizumi's still walking with him to school at all.
"Is that what you want to be?" Iwaizumi asks at length. He gestures at Oikawa, trying to encompass what he saw yesterday as he struggles to put it into words. "…Pretty?"
Oikawa winks at Iwaizumi. "I've always been pretty."
"That's not—" Iwaizumi begins, then cuts himself off, sighing heavily, dropping the conversation entirely with an, "Okay."
-
"Tell me I'm pretty," Oikawa says, and he's never meant it more in his life.
He's terrified about this, even if they're not leaving the house at all. Iwaizumi's been trying. He's been getting better. He's been asking questions when he doesn't understand things, looking even more information up on the internet. He's been really good about this, after the initial shock.
Oikawa is wearing a new shade of lip gloss—one that Iwaizumi pressed into his hand the other day with an awkward, incoherent mumble—and eyeliner. He feels pretty, and he feels satisfied. He's allowed to be a boy, even like this. He can be a pretty boy if he wants. It's never felt like an insult to him anyway.
"You're pretty," Iwaizumi breathes, looking at him, properly taking him in. He places his hands on either side of Oikawa's face, pulling him in so their breath is on each other's lips. "You're so pretty, Oikawa. With or without your makeup. You're always pretty. Always have been, right?"
Oikawa smiles. "If you kiss me, you're going to get lip gloss everywhere."
"Is that a bad thing?" Iwaizumi asks, raising an eyebrow and pulling him in.
"Not at all," Oikawa replies, leaning right into Iwaizumi's arms.