(hella gay lil fic courtesy of my hella gay lil heart)
I love you.
Which one of them said it? Was it really said? Hajime stares at Oikawa, and Oikawa stares back, and he waits for a clue, tries to pull the voice behind the words and match it to the two he knows best to figure out what he should do next, bangs desperately around his empty head for something to say.
Oikawa doesn’t give him that chance. He smiles, one of the worst, fakest smiles Hajime’s ever seen. “Don’t mind, Iwa-chan! I’ll get over it.”
“Oikawa—”
“Anyway I promised my mom I’d clean my room today and you know how she gets, so I have to go! See you!” And he’s running off.
Hajime takes three steps and stops dead. Oikawa disappears around the corner. He’s only a street away, but that distance grows too big for him to traverse. He stands, staring at the ground for a minute, then moves over numbly to slump down on the curb with his head between his knees.
What was that reaction? He just blanked out for thirty seconds. Of course Oikawa would react that way. He doesn’t often show his true feelings to people, unless he’s angry, but this wasn’t anger. This was something much more vulnerable. Hajime couldn’t even pull himself together in time to say something, anything. A simple, dumb, ‘Me too.’
What the hell is he doing sitting on the street then? All the times he imagined saying those same words to his best friend that his best friend said to him— Sometimes those stories ended badly, but they never began with Oikawa saying what he just said, and they certainly didn’t end with Hajime saying nothing at all.
So he’s not going to say nothing at all.
What are you so afraid of?
He jumps up off the curb and runs the six blocks to Oikawa’s house, arrives breathing hard, heart pounding, but mostly not from exertion. He knocks hard, maybe a little too hard, and feels guilty when Oikawa’s mom answers it, looking a little concerned.
“Oh, Hajime. Did you and Tooru have a fight? He seemed upset,” she says. If Hajime knows Oikawa, which he does, he probably told his mom not to let him in, but she wouldn’t ever deny him.
“I need to talk to him,” he says, chest still heaving slightly. “Please, it’s important.”
She frowns slightly, looking behind her, but Oikawa’s not there. “Okay, come in.”
He forces himself not to run up the stairs or down the hall. Oikawa’s door isn’t even locked, so he pushes it open, trying to ignore how warm he feels. There’s no reason to be nervous now, except that he’s made an ass of himself, but he’s done that in front of Oikawa a million times before.
“Oi, I wasn’t done talking to you, Trashkawa.”
He’s curled up in his bed, under the covers, and he pulls his pillow over his head. There’s a muffled, “Go away, Iwa-chan, I just want to be alone.”
Hajime sits on top of him, pinning him down, and yanks the pillow away. Oikawa’s eyes are red, but dry, and he glares up at him, looking morose. “You can’t just say something like that and run away.”
“What was I supposed to do?” His voice is quiet and low, bitter.
Hajime scowls, defensively. It keeps running through his head—the words Oikawa said, that he should just say back. It’s clear, it would be easy that way. “You didn’t let me say—” He chokes on his own words.
Oikawa just stares at him.
Hajime takes in a deep breath, as subtly as he can. They say actions speak louder than words.
He shuts his eyes and leans down, not stopping until his lips make contact with Oikawa’s warm, soft skin.
He was kind of off the mark. He hit his cheek to the side of his mouth, and he feels his face heat up. “Wh—” Oikawa starts. Hajime quickly moves over, praying that Oikawa won’t keep talking, but the moment’s already ruined anyway, he supposes.
He breaks away after a few more seconds, face surely fully red now, but still manages to look down at Oikawa.
He starts laughing.
Hajime straightens up defensively. “What?!”
“You missed!”
Hajime grabs the pillow and smothers him with it. Oikawa tugs at it until he worries he might actually murder him and moves it away, but he regrets it because he’s still laughing.
Eventually he quiets down, and Hajime is struck by how unguarded he looks right now, smiling gently, hair slightly messier than he usually keeps it. He looks beautiful. Hajime swallows.
“Was that your first kiss?” he asks.
“You already know the answer to that!” Hajime is tempted to smother him again when he starts giggling.
“It was cute.”
Hajime frowns, and feels his face is no less red. “Quit smiling at me like that.”
“But I’m happy!” He pauses, and then squirms a little. “But can you get off? You’re heavy. You should stop eating so many snacks, Iwa-chan.”
Hajime hits him with the pillow, but he’s happy too.
FILL: TEAM AKAASHI KEIJI/BOKUTO KOUTAROU/KUROO TETSUROU, G
Words: 851
(hella gay lil fic courtesy of my hella gay lil heart)
I love you.
Which one of them said it? Was it really said? Hajime stares at Oikawa, and Oikawa stares back, and he waits for a clue, tries to pull the voice behind the words and match it to the two he knows best to figure out what he should do next, bangs desperately around his empty head for something to say.
Oikawa doesn’t give him that chance. He smiles, one of the worst, fakest smiles Hajime’s ever seen. “Don’t mind, Iwa-chan! I’ll get over it.”
“Oikawa—”
“Anyway I promised my mom I’d clean my room today and you know how she gets, so I have to go! See you!” And he’s running off.
Hajime takes three steps and stops dead. Oikawa disappears around the corner. He’s only a street away, but that distance grows too big for him to traverse. He stands, staring at the ground for a minute, then moves over numbly to slump down on the curb with his head between his knees.
What was that reaction? He just blanked out for thirty seconds. Of course Oikawa would react that way. He doesn’t often show his true feelings to people, unless he’s angry, but this wasn’t anger. This was something much more vulnerable. Hajime couldn’t even pull himself together in time to say something, anything. A simple, dumb, ‘Me too.’
What the hell is he doing sitting on the street then? All the times he imagined saying those same words to his best friend that his best friend said to him— Sometimes those stories ended badly, but they never began with Oikawa saying what he just said, and they certainly didn’t end with Hajime saying nothing at all.
So he’s not going to say nothing at all.
What are you so afraid of?
He jumps up off the curb and runs the six blocks to Oikawa’s house, arrives breathing hard, heart pounding, but mostly not from exertion. He knocks hard, maybe a little too hard, and feels guilty when Oikawa’s mom answers it, looking a little concerned.
“Oh, Hajime. Did you and Tooru have a fight? He seemed upset,” she says. If Hajime knows Oikawa, which he does, he probably told his mom not to let him in, but she wouldn’t ever deny him.
“I need to talk to him,” he says, chest still heaving slightly. “Please, it’s important.”
She frowns slightly, looking behind her, but Oikawa’s not there. “Okay, come in.”
He forces himself not to run up the stairs or down the hall. Oikawa’s door isn’t even locked, so he pushes it open, trying to ignore how warm he feels. There’s no reason to be nervous now, except that he’s made an ass of himself, but he’s done that in front of Oikawa a million times before.
“Oi, I wasn’t done talking to you, Trashkawa.”
He’s curled up in his bed, under the covers, and he pulls his pillow over his head. There’s a muffled, “Go away, Iwa-chan, I just want to be alone.”
Hajime sits on top of him, pinning him down, and yanks the pillow away. Oikawa’s eyes are red, but dry, and he glares up at him, looking morose. “You can’t just say something like that and run away.”
“What was I supposed to do?” His voice is quiet and low, bitter.
Hajime scowls, defensively. It keeps running through his head—the words Oikawa said, that he should just say back. It’s clear, it would be easy that way. “You didn’t let me say—” He chokes on his own words.
Oikawa just stares at him.
Hajime takes in a deep breath, as subtly as he can. They say actions speak louder than words.
He shuts his eyes and leans down, not stopping until his lips make contact with Oikawa’s warm, soft skin.
He was kind of off the mark. He hit his cheek to the side of his mouth, and he feels his face heat up. “Wh—” Oikawa starts. Hajime quickly moves over, praying that Oikawa won’t keep talking, but the moment’s already ruined anyway, he supposes.
He breaks away after a few more seconds, face surely fully red now, but still manages to look down at Oikawa.
He starts laughing.
Hajime straightens up defensively. “What?!”
“You missed!”
Hajime grabs the pillow and smothers him with it. Oikawa tugs at it until he worries he might actually murder him and moves it away, but he regrets it because he’s still laughing.
Eventually he quiets down, and Hajime is struck by how unguarded he looks right now, smiling gently, hair slightly messier than he usually keeps it. He looks beautiful. Hajime swallows.
“Was that your first kiss?” he asks.
“You already know the answer to that!” Hajime is tempted to smother him again when he starts giggling.
“It was cute.”
Hajime frowns, and feels his face is no less red. “Quit smiling at me like that.”
“But I’m happy!” He pauses, and then squirms a little. “But can you get off? You’re heavy. You should stop eating so many snacks, Iwa-chan.”
Hajime hits him with the pillow, but he’s happy too.