Rating:

General

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Haikyuu!!

Relationship:

Oikawa/Sugawara

Tags:

fandom week, future fic, oisuga week

Stats:

Posted on:

2015-02-06

Words:

6,916

Koushi laughs as he opens the door. “I’ll be right back!” he calls, but Kageyama and Hinata are busy singing aggressively to each other, and it’s only Asahi who looks at him and holds up a hand, smiles timidly.

He walks towards the restroom, humming the part of the song that Kageyama had been singing on his way there. Placing fourth in the spring high leaves a better taste than he’d expected. The first years are flourishing, Nishinoya talks about getting better like there’s so much left for him to do, and Koushi takes the rest of the school year much slower than he used to.

With free weekends getting sparer and sparer, however, not every day is an opportunity for the team to congregate outside of school. It’s near midnight and Koushi feels full of life. He’s sure everyone else back in the room does, too.

On the way back from the restroom, he turns left too soon and starts down before he realizes this isn’t the way he came. He’s about to go back and turn to the right way, when he sees someone at the end of the hall.

They’re crouched down, head tilted to the side like they’re drunk. It doesn’t surprise Koushi – even though he’s not of age yet, Tanaka and Nishinoya managed to persuade Daichi and Asahi into buying alcohol for their party. Surprisingly, Hinata’s currently the drunkest out of all of them. But he just gets sleepy, unless Kageyama’s challenging him to a karaoke challenge.

Koushi can’t tell if the person on the other end of the hall is actually alive or not (he hopes so.) He walks toward them, but as he does, their figure gets more and more familiar.

Oikawa Tooru’s not wearing his volleyball jacket or his school uniform and he’s distinguishable anyway. He has a lopsided smile on his face and his eyes are closed. His breathing is quieter than it would be if he was asleep.

Koushi jumps back when Oikawa pops an eye open.

“Ah,” he says. “Refreshing-kun. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Koushi blinks.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, either,” he says. “Are you okay?” It hadn’t occurred to him that Oikawa didn’t know his name. “It’s Sugawara, by the way.”

“Ah, right,” says Oikawa, lazy smirk getting lazier. “Yes, Sugawara-kun. I’m okay.”

“Er.”

Oikawa’s saying yes is probably like one of those things you say on reflex. He closes his eyes again, and Koushi stares at him. Oikawa has long wavy eyelashes to match that model-type hair of his.

“What are you doing out here?” Koushi asks.

Oikawa opens his eyes again.

“Waiting.”

“Waiting for whom?”

“My friends,” Oikawa replies. “They’re supposed to get me. Iwa-chan was helping walk everyone back.”

Koushi frowns, because even though he and everyone else from Karasuno are still here, as well as a few other parties, he doesn’t recall seeing anyone from Aoba Jousai in the past hour or so. No one who had gone out to the restroom had made a comment about it, and Koushi is sure they would.

“When did they leave?” he asks.

Oikawa waves a hand. “Around ten or so.”

He smiles and closes his eyes again. Koushi spots Oikawa’s phone in his pocket, which is lit up with an unread notification. He hesitates, and then says, “When’s the last time you checked your text messages?”

“Hm?” Oikawa looks at him. Then he sees where Koushi’s eyes are, and picks out his phone. “Oh. Thank you, Refreshing-kun.”

“Sugawara,” Koushi says, but Oikawa’s staring so hard at his phone that Koushi doubts he heard him.

Oikawa’s eyes are dark in the phone light. Then he’s handing it to Koushi, saying, “Can you read this for me?”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“I might be a terrible gambler. At least, against Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, and that answers all of Koushi’s questions.

He flips through the recent texts, all of which are from ‘Iwa-chan,’ the most recent having been sent a half an hour ago. The first several are updates about the rest of the drunk Seijou members – then:

“‘Yahaba is losing it. He’s begging me to stay with him,'” Koushi reads aloud. “‘Kyoutani is about to punch him.’ ‘Now he wants to sleep over.’ ‘Now they both want me to sleep over.’ ‘I’m getting tired.’ ‘Would you mind walking home alone?'”

“No, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, and rolls onto his side on the floor.

Koushi yelps and pushes him back up so at least he’s sitting up straight. “That wasn’t from me, that was from your friend,” he says. “How far away do you live? Would you be okay walking back alone?”

“I’m so alone,” Oikawa moans, and tries to lie down again.

Koushi sits next to him and props him up so that Oikawa lands on his shoulder instead. Face burning, Koushi pushes him away a little further.

“You need to get home,” Koushi says. “It’s late.”

Oikawa sits upright and stares at Koushi. He blinks, owlishly. “How much have you had to drink, Suga-chan?”

Well the shortening of the name is a surprise, but at least it’s better. “I haven’t drunken anything,” he says. Then, “Seriously, Oikawa, you should get home. Do you want me to call someone?”

“No,” Oikawa moans, again. “Iwa-chan’s not going to answer this early. I only like calling him in the mornings. Is Tobio here? Is he drunk?”

Koushi chooses to ignore Oikawa’s last two questions and instead says, “Is there anyone else I can call?”

Oikawa’s eyes brighten. At least, more than they were before.

“You should walk me back, Suga-chan!” he says. “It’ll be fun!”

“Er,” says Koushi.

“I promise you a good time.”

Oikawa winks, which doesn’t exactly make his suggestion any better.

Still, Koushi can’t leave him here alone, and there’s very few other choices unless he wants to dump Oikawa on anyone else from the volleyball team, and – well, Koushi runs through the possibilities of everyone else in his mind, and concludes that he’s probably the best out of all of them to handle Oikawa right now. He doesn’t necessarily dread it, but Oikawa’s now saying, “I’ll be the best you’ve ever had,” and Koushi decides that while the sober, competitive Oikawa on the volleyball court is a slightly different person, Koushi has the same small level of patience for each.

He hoists Oikawa up by the arm, says, “Let’s go.” Oikawa scrambles up eagerly, and has to hold onto Koushi a little bit more to right himself.

“Thanks, Suga-chan!” he chirps.

Koushi says, “No problem,” and wonders if Oikawa can remember the directions to his house if he’s this drunk.

They make their way out, and Oikawa says happily, “This way!” toward the direction that, incidentally, Koushi had also come from. The karaoke bar is pretty equidistant between Seijou and Karasuno, though, so it’s not much of a surprise.

Koushi walks, watching Oikawa. It’s a straight road down here. There’s a lamp and a traffic light at the corner, but there aren’t any cars out this late in the night. Oikawa doesn’t look both ways when he crosses. Koushi keeps pace with him, hoping faintly that it’s not too much of a walk so that he can come back and say goodbye to the others.

Oikawa looks at him and breaks the silence. “What are you thinking about?” he asks. His eyes are still clouded with fatigue and inebriation, and his breath smells. Still, Koushi is sure that coming outside has calmed him down a little.

“Getting you home safe,” Koushi replies.

Oikawa sways, and bends back so that he’s looking at Koushi from upside down. Koushi decides not to warn him about the mailbox he’ll inevitably run into.

“Why’re you thinking about that?”

“Because you asked.” Koushi keeps an eye on the mailbox. Maybe he should.

“Oh! You’re right, I did.”

Oikawa stands up straight too late. The mailbox hits him in the side, and he stumbles and nearly lands on his ass, focused on his feet when he catches himself.

Koushi turns away so Oikawa can’t see him laugh.

“That was.” Oikawa huffs and straightens his shirt. “I didn’t see that coming. Did you see that coming, Suga-chan?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that.” Koushi turns back around.

Oikawa comes close to him then, inches from his face. It catches Koushi so off-guard that he doesn’t have time to respond; a second later and Oikawa’s pulled back, “You did, I can see it your eyes.”

“There’s nothing in my eyes.”

“You’re not easy to read.”

“What?” Koushi says, because now Oikawa has his hands in his pockets and is staring thoughtfully up at the sky. His coat is grey and as they walk away from the streetlight, the color fades into the night. A few stars shine from the side of his profile.

“At the last game,” says Oikawa.

Koushi is silent, gaze transfixed on him.

Oikawa sighs. “It’s all Tobio-chan’s fault,” he says, which is hardly a surprise. But then, “You’re good, too. Not as by the book as I thought.”

“You thought I’m by the book?” Koushi asks, not because he isn’t, but because it never crossed his mind before that Oikawa might think something of his volleyball skills, since they’ve only been on a court together less than thirty minutes collectively.

Oikawa swings an arm around his shoulder. Koushi nearly jumps. “Suga-chan,” he says, and he’s very close to Koushi’s ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t learn your name until tonight.”

Koushi pushes him away. Oikawa’s kind of breathy, and his breath is kind of wet, when he’s close to you. Koushi tries not to think too much of it and laughs.

“This isn’t like you, Oikawa,” he says.

Oikawa says, “This is very much like me,” and leans into Koushi again. Koushi sidesteps before Oikawa can touch him.

“Where are we going?” he asks, to turn Oikawa’s focus on something else.

Oikawa blinks down the road in front of them.

“I don’t know.”

Koushi wants to put his face in his hands, except that might be rude and make Oikawa want to touch him again. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. What should he have expected from a drunk Oikawa?

“That’s okay,” he says. Oikawa’s blinking, like he’s trying to figure out where exactly they are. “This is pretty close to where I live, so I guess you can stay there for tonight.”

Oikawa brightens, but there must be something on Koushi’s face that says that further touches aren’t welcome, because he turns to Koushi and ends up swinging his hands by his sides instead. “You’re so kind, Suga-chan,” he says. “If it was me, I would’ve just made me walk back by myself.” He giggles. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well,” says Koushi, and tries to imagine that playing out in his head, Koushi being the drunk one and Oikawa the one with the deadpan stare on the other side of the sidewalk. It’s hard to imagine himself drunk, though.

He settles on, “I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

Oikawa says, “You know me too well, Suga-chan,” and the lilt in his voice makes it hard to tell if he’s flattered or teasing.

Koushi guides them towards his place. He doesn’t say or point to anything, so Oikawa has to catch himself when Koushi turns and Oikawa walks a few too many steps forward. “You’re not talkative,” he comments.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Koushi has a few guesses to what his response will be. Oikawa says, “How do you feel about how you placed?”

He’s talking about the Spring Highs, and that had been one of the things on Koushi’s mental list.

“Good,” Koushi says, because it’s true. Being in the top eight was exhilarating enough, and he’s pretty sure that top four is more than what any of them were expecting, no matter how much they might deny otherwise. Ennoshita will lead them even farther next year. Koushi knows that neither Kageyama nor Hinata will rest until they’re the best in Japan.

A part of Koushi wishes he could be there, playing alongside them. But his goals and mind are realistic, and it’s all over for him, anyway.

“We’ve become the new Seijou,” he says, because he thinks it’ll make Oikawa smile, and it does.

Oikawa opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something. A little sound comes out, but then uncharacteristically he stops before formulates a word. Koushi thinks momentarily of what Kageyama had told them about Oikawa and Shiratorizawa. Maybe he was going to say something about that.

Instead, he says, “You’ve become better than us,” but there’s no sentimentality or malice. “At least for this year. Next year, my juniors will defeat all your juniors!”

“We’ll see about that,” says Koushi.

The house is quiet when they get to his. Oikawa is surprisingly quiet when he walks in and takes off his shoes, at the doorway. “We can go upstairs,” Koushi whispers, so Oikawa nods and stumbles a little.

He catches himself on the wall with a gentle bump. “I’m okay,” he whispers, and Koushi rolls his eyes.

They go upstairs. “I need to pee,” Oikawa says when they reach the top, so Koushi pushes him a little.

“Go pee.”

“I am.” The bathroom’s on the left, which Oikawa seems to have already located, and he flicks the switch on.

“I’m going to change,” Koushi whispers back to him. For some reason this makes Oikawa stick his tongue out at him before he closes the bathroom door. Koushi sighs, but something warm and soft like fondness curls beneath his chest. He goes to his bedroom and changes into his sleep clothes.

He’s been done for a few minutes with the door back open when Oikawa walks in, says, “I am sleepy.” Koushi’s just finished pulling out the futon, and catches Oikawa watching him as he sets it up.

“You can take my bed,” he says. “It’s more comfortable than this.”

Oikawa smiles. “Thanks.”

Koushi turns, starts towards the bathroom when Oikawa calls out in a hushed voice, “Wait! Suga-chan, where are you going?”

“Bathroom.”

Koushi rolls his eyes as he walks in and flicks on the light. The last time he’d had to do something like this was Daichi’s birthday, and he’d fallen asleep on Koushi’s bed before Koushi had even gotten the futon.

He doesn’t know if he should expect Oikawa to do the same, or otherwise. Koushi does his usual pre-sleep routine, absently wondering on the toilet and then when he gets his toothbrush if the others have left the karaoke place yet. They can last for only so long when their first years are drunk, aside from Tsukishima who’d fallen asleep an hour in. Koushi thinks about a haggard, half-drunk Tsukishima being woken up, and smiles to himself.

The bathroom door opens and Koushi’s insides jump; it’s Oikawa, pushing the door open, looking a little sleepy but mostly bored. “It’s lonely in your room,” he whines.

“Because you’re alone,” Koushi says through the mouthful of his toothbrush and toothpaste.

Oikawa doesn’t retort. Instead, he leans his forehead against Koushi’s back, making Koushi start. His touch is gentle and doesn’t feel that different than before. Still, it’s Oikawa’s presence that feels big, making Koushi hyperaware of all of his movements and sounds when he finishes brushing and spits in the sink. His lower back is hot.

“It’s not that much better here, is it?” he asks, after gargling water. He leaves the water running, in case Oikawa might get the hint and let him wash his face by himself.

“It is.”

Koushi inches a little closer to the sink, but Oikawa just leans further down with him. The thing is that Koushi doesn’t even dislike this. It makes his upper arms warm and tingly but not like he has an itch.

He focuses on washing his face for three long minutes.

When he’s done, he turns to the towel next to him to dry off. Oikawa’s let go of him now, watching as Sugawara gets the last of the water from his cheeks. He doesn’t move when Koushi turns to him, because the open doorway is at Oikawa’s back. Oikawa stares at Koushi like he’s thinking hard.

Koushi averts his gaze and licks his lips. “Is there something on my face?” he asks.

Oikawa doesn’t respond and barely moves away. In fact, Koushi is certain that he’s actually getting closer. His breath feels like it’s leaving damp spots on Koushi’s cheeks, except it’s not because Koushi had just dried his face and it stays that way. It feels like Oikawa is sucking up all the moisture from Koushi’s dry throat to tease against him.

Oikawa caves first, leans in first. In the split second where Koushi could’ve blinked, he doesn’t and leans away. Oikawa’s mouth misses.

Koushi slides between him and the wall.

“Goodnight, Oikawa,” he says, and as he does, a million thoughts are running through his head (was he about to kiss me? how many people has Oikawa kissed? is he the type to kiss people when he’s drunk? why does he want to kiss me? was that even going to be a kiss?) He paces himself back into his bedroom.

He hears Oikawa when he comes in less than a minute later, but Koushi’s eyes are closed and he’s wrapped comfortably in his futon. Oikawa just climbs onto Koushi’s bed. His breath evens out quickly. Koushi listens to the sound of him falling asleep.

*

Oikawa’s awake when Koushi comes into his room again the next morning, to check up on him. Koushi had unsurprisingly woken up before him; he was going to leave the cup of water for when Oikawa might wake up, except coming back twenty minutes later and Oikawa’s sitting up, blinking into space.

“Here,” Koushi says, and Oikawa’s gaze snaps to him. When he sees the cup he says, “Thank you.” His voice is raspy.

Koushi sits at the end of the bed. “So how much did you actually have to drink yesterday?” he asks.

Oikawa chugs down all of the water, and then places the cup on the windowsill. Koushi takes it back. “Enough that the only thing I remember about walking back last night was walking back,” he says, and then chuckles. He stops a second later. “Ow. That hurts.”

“Need more water?” Koushi asks, and Oikawa nods. Koushi gives him the cup back.

“I thought you were going to get that for me.”

“Not while you’re awake,” Koushi says, and shoots him a grin.

The house is empty because the refrigerator nearly is, too. Koushi’s managed to find a few frozen buns and steamed them for himself and Oikawa before Oikawa had woken up. They’re ready when they come downstairs. Koushi hands Oikawa his.

“You do this a lot?” Oikawa asks, leaning against a counter. He’s teasing but Koushi feels compelled to answer anyway.

“Not everyone begs me to take them home.”

“I did not beg.”

“I didn’t offer.”

“You did,” Oikawa says.

Koushi says, “Didn’t,” and takes a bite out of his bun because he remembers last night better than Oikawa does.

Oikawa’s frowning, like he’s trying to remember something. “I didn’t ask to stay here overnight,” he says.

“Okay, well,” says Koushi, “that might be true, because you didn’t know where we were going.”

Oikawa laughs and takes a bite out of his bun as well. “Okay, I can believe that.”

They munch on their breakfast in silence. When Oikawa goes to refill his cup, Koushi decides to get a drink for himself as well. He’s looking for a glass in the cupboard when Oikawa asks his back, “So what were you doing there last night, anyway?”

Koushi replies without turning around. “Singing.”

“Well of course.” Oikawa’s finishing rolling his eyes when Koushi turns back around. “Though I don’t pin you as the karaoke type. Were you there with your teammates?”

They’re both pretty predictable, Koushi realizes. “Yeah,” he says, and adds, “Karaoke is very much like me.” He sees the corner of Oikawa’s lips twitch, but he’s not even sure if Oikawa had been aware of it.

“Third year farewell party, huh,” Oikawa mutters, and Koushi wonders if he’d been lying last night when he’d said that Koushi was hard to read.

“You guys did the same?” Koushi asks, and Oikawa nods. “Do you plan on continuing volleyball in university?”

Oikawa shrugs. “It’s a possibility,” he says. A laugh escapes from his lips again. “A very likely possibility, considering how much work I put into it. I was scouted at the spring highs, did you hear?”

He says it so casually that it takes a second for the words to sink in. “Ah,” says Koushi, “so you’ve decided where to go?”

“I said I was scouted, not that I had settled.” Oikawa winks and continues at his breakfast. “It’s an easy in, a few had come to our practices as well. And none of them take my knee into account.”

He mutters the last part. There’s a weird expression on his face that Koushi can vaguely recognize, like it disgruntles Oikawa how easy it is for him to do something he loves. He remembers about the knee injury back in the beginning of the year during their practice match; but even with it Seijou had managed to defeat them during Inter Highs, and just barely during spring highs. If he was a scout, Koushi wouldn’t consider it either.

“Don’t complain about that,” says Koushi, and Oikawa’s head whips around to look at him. “If it’s what you want to do, then go for it. If it’s not, give it some time.”

Oikawa’s smile isn’t bitter. “You make it sound so easy, Suga-chan.”

“It is.”

“Do you want to do volleyball in university too?”

Koushi shakes his head. He hasn’t thought about it, but that speaks for itself. “Not really,” he says. “I love playing, but I only managed to get this far with my team. On my own…”

He falters. It’s still hard even now to be properly annoyed about not being a regular this year, but at the same time, having the thought linger equally bothers him, because Kageyama is a better setter, experiences aside. It’s likely that, in the long run, Kageyama’s played more than him anyway; Koushi is just lucky that he’s older and knows the team longer to have stood on the same court as him.

Oikawa breaks the silence. “On your own you’re an ordinary guy,” he says, and it’s Koushi’s turn to look at him with surprise. “That’s what you want to say, isn’t it?”

“Well it’s the truth,” says Koushi.

Oikawa is, in fact, more difficult to deal with when he’s sober than when he’s drunk. “Ah, Suga-chan, we’re the same,” he sighs. Koushi almost protests, but he goes on. “You bring out the best of your team, I can tell. We have similar playing styles.”

His words sound like a compliment, but his tone is kind of resigned. Koushi says, “I’m nothing like you,” and is glad to see Oikawa smirk in response.

“Right,” he says. “Because I’m better.”

Koushi lightly kicks him with his sock.

“I’m going to get started on lunch,” he says, going to the refrigerator. It’s early, but he likes to take his time.

Oikawa peers over. His chin lightly grazes Koushi’s shoulder. “Ooh, what’s for lunch?” he asks.

“Tofu,” Koushi answers, bending down to pick up the packet. He shoves it in Oikawa’s hand and Oikawa nearly drops it. “Vegetables. Noodles.”

Oikawa barely manages to hold them all in his arms and stumbles when Koushi closes the refrigerator door. It’s hard to keep a straight face; Koushi laughs as Oikawa piles them on the counter.

“Help me, will you?” Koushi asks, and Oikawa doesn’t say yes or nod but stares at the food like he’s ready to tear them apart.

They get started on lunch, Koushi giving Oikawa instructions and Oikawa asking him how to dry the tofu, showing off his vegetable cutting skills. He listens to Koushi easily, which Koushi wouldn’t have guessed otherwise. Koushi had forgotten to text Daichi or anyone last night, or even this morning – he should do that. And guess what, he might add. Oikawa Tooru’s in my kitchen, helping me chop up vegetables.

Oikawa holds up the knife to his face and grins behind it. “What’s next?” he asks evilly, and Koushi has to turn away so he doesn’t laugh into the noodles.

Koushi tells him to put the tofu and vegetables in the soup, and Oikawa obeys, setting the knife down and bringing over the cutting board. As Koushi watches Oikawa’s patient face and delicate fingers, something weird inside him stirs. It’s like when he gets pulled off the court, but closer to being put on to sub. Like maybe how Kageyama is when Hinata hits one of his sets.

Koushi blurts out, “What are you doing here?”

“Hm?” Oikawa sends him a funny look. “Why are you asking that?” Then, “Do you want me to go through it all again? Even though I can’t remember all of it, I think you might – I was drunk at the karaoke bar last night – ”

“No, I mean.” Koushi cuts him off. “Why are you still here? This morning?”

He doesn’t suspect Oikawa’s hangover has actually worn off, but if he’s in a good enough state to cut up green onions without hurting himself, he can probably get home like this, too.

Oikawa tilts his head. Koushi has seen enough of his smiles, but this one he’s not too familiar with. “You didn’t ask me to leave, Suga-chan,” he says, like that’s that.

Koushi wants to say something, except that’s true, and if he’d wanted to Oikawa to leave by now he would’ve said so. Oikawa hums as he tosses in the tofu in little clumps. Koushi’s sure that if he says anything else on the subject Oikawa would take it as a hint for him to leave. So Koushi doesn’t.

He does most of the rest of the lunch work, stirring the noodles with the soup while Oikawa watches. He’s sat himself on a stool on the other side of the stove, arms folded across the chest and elbows leaning against the counter.

“So what do you want to do?” he asks. “After university.”

Koushi thinks about the two of them, old and talking about the future, and can’t resist a smile. Oikawa must think it’s about his answer, which isn’t as impressive.

“I’m not sure yet,” he says. “Whatever has the most decent deal of being interesting and paying well in the long run, I guess.”

“Simple and steady, huh.” Oikawa clicks his tongue. It might be a sign of approval. Koushi isn’t sure.

“What about you?” he asks.

“I,” Oikawa says, “want to be famous.”

Koushi raises an eyebrow and continues stirring his soup.

“Don’t give me that look, Suga-chan.” Oikawa scoffs and waves a hand. He stares off into space, like he can picture it all in his head. “It’s better to aim high than to aim low! I just want to enjoy myself.”

“You could become a model,” Koushi suggests.

“Really.” Oikawa sits himself upright and puts his hands on his hips, angles himself at a pose. “You think I have the looks for that?”

Koushi uses his chopsticks to flick soup in Oikawa’s direction, and Oikawa’s pose breaks as he yelps. Koushi laughs.

Lunch is ready soon enough, and Oikawa takes the pot without even asking when Koushi declares this. Koushi rushes to get the runners on the table before Oikawa sets the pot down. “Thanks for your help,” Koushi says, but it sounds believable enough that Oikawa merely flicks a piece of stray hair back and says, “I do what I can.”

They wait for the soup to cool. Koushi leans against the counter on the kitchen island. He only has a few things to do today, and none of them require going out – some schoolwork, a few errands to do on his computer, nothing new. Oikawa joins him, so Koushi moves a little so there’s room on his side.

Except Oikawa doesn’t go there. He approaches Koushi from the front, making him freeze. And he’s getting closer, even though Koushi thinks by now that Oikawa would’ve stopped. Or wouldn’t have generally come so close like he’s either trying to intimidate or seduce Koushi.

Koushi’s chest tightens, out of nervousness or something else he’s not quite sure. Oikawa’s warm, and when he’s not drunk his breath isn’t as damp. Koushi doesn’t know if he misses that or not.

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa breathes. “Can I kiss you?”

A breath hitches in Koushi’s throat. “Er,” he says, and he blinks.

Maybe Oikawa takes that as a yes, because he leans in. Koushi moves his face so quickly that Oikawa ends up with his cheek instead, but only briefly.

Koushi’s turned his head away. His whole face feels like it’s on fire. Oikawa is still so close to him and Koushi can’t bring himself to push him away – maybe because Oikawa’s knees are bumping into his, like they’re two lazy ships in the sea. For a moment Koushi wishes he’d said yes, wants to say yes.

Instead, he clears his throat. “Why – Where,” he says, “where is this coming from?”

Oikawa retreats. It’s for the better, Koushi tells himself, as the warmth and the caught smiles from this morning disappear.

“Not from too many places.” Maybe anxiety flickers across Oikawa’s face, but it disappears in less than a second. He leans back against a chair. His grin makes Koushi shiver. “There’s nothing wrong with kissing, you know.”

“I,” says Koushi, because it’d be silly to say that there is something wrong with kissing, that he doesn’t have much experience with kissing. Oikawa would laugh and he would say that it doesn’t matter and he’s looking at Koushi in a way that makes Koushi feel like, well, he doesn’t matter.

All he can say is, “You tried to kiss me last night, too, didn’t you?”

“Did I?” Oikawa looks fond and Koushi curls his toes in his socks. “Well. I can’t remember it, but I wouldn’t be too surprised.”

“We hardly know each other, Oikawa,” says Koushi.

Oikawa says, “That doesn’t matter,” and smiles again, walks toward Koushi again.

Koushi puts his arms out before Oikawa can come any closer. “It matters to me,” he says. Oikawa matters to him, him and his stupid not by the bookand his dreams of being famous and maybe, maybe sometime in the future he’ll get a text in his phone that says, come practice volleyball with me!! :Dand it’ll be what he’s been looking forward to all weekend.

Oikawa says, “That’s okay,” and then, “I kiss a lot of people,” and Koushi’s thoughts shatter.

He steels his face when he meets Oikawa’s eyes again. Oikawa doesn’t seem to have noticed anything, carefully watching Koushi for his reaction.

Koushi laughs. “Of course you have,” he says, and his tone is more biting than he intended. At least it makes Oikawa inch back. “Right. That’s why you say it doesn’t matter.”

Oikawa’s guard has dropped so much that Koushi can see him backtracking, rewinding all his words, seeing where Koushi had stopped and why. He’s so open and Koushi’s lips are tight as he stares at their feet.

“Suga,” he says, “that’s not what I meant – ”

“If it’s not, you wouldn’t have said it,” Koushi says, and maybe that’s not fair but it’s true.

Oikawa’s face falls. Koushi wants to tell him to stop, that he has no right to look like that, because Koushi’s the one with heat in his stomach and flutters in his throat, pushing and pulling him back from changing his mind. Oikawa’s tall and throws smirks at everyone; he, Koushi, can’t look at Oikawa’s face without feeling his insides burn for the both of them.

He says to Oikawa’s feet, “Please leave.”

Oikawa does. But that’s the difficult part, isn’t it, because Koushi can see him hesitate, like he wants to say no, like he wants to ask more, and half of Koushi wants him to. Wants him to push away Koushi’s stubbornness and do what he wants to do, like Oikawa would.

But Oikawa would also listen to him and respect him, so he leaves. He leaves, and Koushi bites at his lip, so he doesn’t take his words back.

*

He texts Daichi later that day, who, along with Asahi and Nishinoya and even once from Kageyama, had flooded his inbox with where did you go?? andare you coming back?s. He assures them that he’s fine and had to come home because of an emergency. He doesn’t mention Oikawa.

Koushi does his usual work and errands over the weekend, like nothing’s changed. And nothing has, except sometimes maybe he’ll think about the way Oikawa had run into that mailbox the other night, smile, and then catch himself a moment later. Oikawa’s not the type of person you forget about. Koushi’s sure that even if he hadn’t run into Oikawa at the karaoke bar, ten years later and he’d still recognize Oikawa’s name, his face.

Koushi sighs and berates himself and goes back to studying.

When the school week starts it doesn’t get any better. With volleyball season over (and Koushi thinks about the spring highs, thinks about Oikawa talking about Koushi’s abilities at the spring highs), everyone’s talking about university. Koushi tightens his fingers into a fist when he remembers Oikawa mentioning that he’d been scouted. It would be so easy for him.

At least this anger is better than the pathetic sentimentality. Koushi lets it simmer, last a little bit longer.

Daichi leans over in his seat. “You okay?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Koushi exhales slowly. “Yeah,” he says, loosening his fingers.

Oikawa trying to kiss him twice in two days shouldn’t break his concentration so much, but it does. Koushi’s sure that Oikawa’s laughed about it, doesn’t even think about it. Because it wouldn’t even made a difference to him, whether he’d kissed Koushi or not. Maybe it’d all been an elaborate ruse to embarrass him. Koushi grits his teeth and tries not to let his imagination run too far.

The week goes on surprisingly fast. Koushi puts faith in himself in being able to get over this soon, or eventually, because he’ll be gone next year and it’s not like he sees Oikawa very often anyway. Oikawa will find many other people to kiss. Koushi won’t find anyone else like Oikawa. He strains himself from thinking that he wants to.

At the end of the week he drops by the clubroom, because despite the season being over, the first years have continued practicing, especially Kageyama and Hinata. That part doesn’t surprise him, not even Yamaguchi joining them; what often does is Tsukishima, who’s there for Kageyama to practice different sets on, and to work on receiving Yamaguchi’s serves. Koushi smiles at the sight of them stretching on the floor, because the club before them is still cleaning the gym up.

Koushi greets them all. Hinata asks excitedly, “Are you going to practice with us, Suga-san?” and Koushi laughs.

“I wish, but I have work to do,” he says, and Hinata groans. Koushi ruffles his hair. “Maybe some other time.”

“We should stop soon, too,” Tsukishima says. “Exams are coming up.”

Kageyama and Hinata pointedly don’t look at him. Koushi chuckles, as the door opens behind him.

“Everyone, the – ! Oh, hi, Suga-san,” Yachi says breathlessly, running into his back. She turns bright pink. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Koushi says.

“What is it?” Hinata asks, and Koushi moves out of the way so Yachi can talk to him.

“The gym’s ready whenever we are!”

Hinata whoops and leaps out of the room, and Yamaguchi goes to follow him. Tsukishima rolls his eyes, but Koushi goes over to Kageyama, who’s bending down to pick over his water bottle.

“Kageyama,” Koushi says, before he can stop himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm? Sure.” Kageyama takes a drink from his bottle.

Koushi focuses on a spot past his shoulder. “Do you like Oikawa-san?” he asks.

Kageyama stares. But he says, “Oikawa-san’s not the easy to like type, when you know him. He’s competitive and honest, but I don’t dislike him.”

“That’s true,” Koushi says thoughtfully.

Kageyama tilts his head to the side. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because you know him the best out of all of us.” That’s the easy answer, and the best way to get out of the conversation before Kageyama can inquire further. “Thanks for answering, Kageyama,” he says, and claps him on the shoulder. Kageyama opens his mouth, so Koushi says, “See you later,” and is gone before Kageyama can say anything else.

He takes his time on his way home, thinking about stopping by Ukai-san’s for a snack. He doesn’t, though. His mind is too quick running through what Oikawa said, what Kageyama had said, and volleyball is much simpler to figure out.

Kageyama’s right. Koushi’s seen the way the rest of the Seijou team had regarded Oikawa, with a hindered respect that must come from playing on the same team as him. The only people who seem to truly admire him are the spectators and his fans; even Hinata, who generally likes just about everyone, even if their athletic abilities outshine his, has glared in Oikawa’s directions before.

So why had it been so easy to fall into Oikawa’s pace, his pattern, when Koushi had talked to him drunk and then sober over the weekend? Oikawa had hardly presented himself as a challenge. Koushi hadn’t felt like he had to mold his way around Oikawa. And yet a part of him had been unsurprised at how natural at it had all felt, like the want that now bubbles beneath the surface of Koushi’s chest had recently broken out.

He turns the corner to his house. He starts to get his keys out, when he sees that someone’s standing there.

“How do you know where I live?” Koushi asks stupidly.

Oikawa is graceful when he stops off the porch. “I’ve walked here and back twice already,” he says. “I have a pretty good memory.”

“I’m sure you do,” says Koushi.

It’s surreal. Oikawa could be anywhere else in the world, lightyears away from him. Except he’s not, casting his gaze up and down like calculating how much Koushi might’ve changed over several days.

Koushi asks, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve,” Oikawa says. His voice is breathy, and he talks like he’s been thinking about what to say. “I’ve come to confess.”

It’d be better standing on the porch. Otherwise, Koushi feels tempted to step away from Oikawa’s heavy air and the height that comes with it.

“Confess to me?” Koushi says, even though, that’s obvious, Oikawa doesn’t have any other options. Koushi runs through possibilities in his head just in case that’s wrong.

“Yes,” says Oikawa, and Koushi stops thinking. Oikawa’s smiling, and continues, “Sometime between you letting me come to your place and my using your bathroom last weekend, I decided that I like you.”

He says it so simply that Koushi almost expects the resolve to be simple. For Oikawa to be simple.

“Why?” Koushi asks, because it’s not like that.

“Because.” And Oikawa isn’t looking at Koushi like he knows everything, but maybe that he wants Koushi to tell him everything. “I like being around you, and I want to kiss you.”

When Koushi doesn’t drop his gaze, Oikawa adds, “I shouldn’t have said that I kiss a lot of people, last time. I have, but.”

“I’m not one of those people?” Koushi asks. Oikawa raises his head, and Koushi stills his face into a neutral expression. Warmth spreads throughout his body, but Koushi knows it would be naive to trust just that. “You called me ordinary the other night.”

Oikawa frowns. “I didn’t.” And then after a beat, “You called yourself that. And even if you are ordinary, so am I.”

“I don’t know why you like me,” says Koushi. And before he can stop himself, “I don’t know why I like you.”

The happiness that passes over Oikawa’s face is just as quick as anything else. Then he’s cool, like he’s trying to play up that confidence. Koushi knows there’ll be a time when that crumbles.

“Because I’m awesome,” says Oikawa. He grabs Koushi’s hands and pulls him close, and, chuckling, Koushi lets him, so that their knees bump.

“Kageyama doesn’t hate you,” he informs him, and Oikawa’s eyebrows fly up. “I asked him today.”

“What did he say?”

“He says you’re not easy to like,” Koushi says, and when Oikawa laughs, Koushi can feel it against his skin, thrum through his fingers.

“Coming from Tobio-chan, that’s a compliment,” Oikawa says.

He’s so warm. Koushi tilts his head up and says, “Can I kiss you?”

This time, the light stays in Oikawa’s eyes when he says, “Yes,” and Koushi does. Oikawa isn’t soft but it feels like he’s trying to be, corners adjusting into every angle of Koushi’s mouth.

He’s better than the overcast weather and the way Koushi’s heart races when they pull away.

“I won’t ask you to leave so soon this time,” he says.

Oikawa smiles, fingers tightening in Koushi’s, a knot that he can’t wait to figure out.

“Good.”