
Believe Me (One Day)
Mature |6k | one-shot | complete
Tags: College AU, drunk Oikawa, enigma Hinata, sexual tension, flirting, innuendo, house party, existential
When Kageyama and Hinata arrive at a house party, Oikawa knows that the night can only get better. He makes a move on his old rival’s best friend. And completely fucks it up.
​
Rated M for language and sexual references
Inspired by the song Boyfriend by Dove Cameron.
They’d arrived together.
Probably.
​
Oikawa had already had a few and was caught being a seat for some rocker chick, in the garden after dark, by the pool.
Tobio hadn’t seen him.
But he had seen them.
Just after Oikawa had emptied the contents of his third beer into his mouth and had dunked it on the plastic table, while he was sat on the plastic chair, with some girl draped across him reeking of weed. It was dark, and Oikawa was out of it but he was still alert enough to recognise the face of an old rival and there, next to him –
He hadn’t seen him since high school.
Volleyball matches.
How they’d mattered so much back then. How little they mattered now.
Still.
My, some people really were late bloomers.
That boy had been pretty then but was way way way prettier now: pixie, magical, dream-like. His body better, his cheeks sharper. Even at a distance, symmetry was symmetry; beauty was beauty. Were they dating? Or had they come as friends? What was their relationship now? Either way – they’d arrived together, right? Tobio was still that little snotty piece of shit and this – this angel beside him was still something Tobio cared about.
Well then.
A hook sunk deeper into Oikawa’s chest. So today was the day. He’d always had an urge to speak to the redhead those times their paths had crossed but had never known what to say. Oikawa’s reaction had been to threaten back then – that shared attack and this little unknown force being something Oikawa had feared and yet –
He had been drawn to it – drawn to him – as well.
One day he’d wondered what would happen if they had ever met. Just the two of them. Alone. No Tobio, no Iwa-chan, no teams. It had been a fleeting idea, years back, a question that had posed itself several times and had remained prominent especially after seeing Karasuno play at the Nationals.
But it had never happened.
Until now.
The duo cast a fleeting look around the dark garden and glowing pool before disappearing back inside the house, to the loud music and overreacting drunkards.
Finally.
Something interesting.
Oikawa stood up – the girl rolled off him and onto the grass, knocking into the plastic table, making the empty cans skitter and join her on the grass.
‘You alright?’ Maki looked up from another seat, half-stoned.
Iwa and Matsu were watching a YouTube video in the dark, the two of them completely ignoring Maki’s enquiry.
‘I’m fine,’ Oikawa said, climbing over the girl and making his way towards the light and sound.
Like a thief in the night, but with much less finesse, Oikawa made his way through the house party, looking for the duo, trying not to be spotted but not caring much if he was either – the possibility of their reaction piqued his curiosity. He stumbled on feet, the corners of sofas, random objects, here and there – but he saw a female body with a clown mask and he was still sober enough to lean in over her, whisper things in her ear, look deeply into those clown eyes, before getting her to practically hand the mask to him on her knees.
Masks, Oikawa decided, were the best.
Suddenly with this on, his body moved in time to the music, he jerked his neck back, he flailed his arms, he shook his hips and didn’t give a shit because no one here knew who he was. And, to be fair, most of the people here he didn’t know who they were either – they were second years, some girl a ex friend of Matsu’s ex-girlfriend, and that’s how they’d been invited. Oikawa’s girlfriend had broken up with him a couple of weeks ago and this was his first weekend with nothing to do so – here he was.
Aha.
There they were.
Oikawa spotted them near the kitchen, the mini gingerbread man having an animated conversation with someone while Tobio looked as sour as a lemon, standing there, untalkative, unfriendly.
The fact that Tobio had just arrived and was already not enjoying himself made Oikawa very happy indeed.
So under the cover of clown mask, Oikawa waded through the house, he surprised a group of girls when he revealed his face and stole one of their cigarettes, he went to the toilet and pissed, then went back to the kitchen to check on the status quo and also attempt at sneakily getting some water to partially sober up –
They weren’t there.
Where did they go?
Oikawa’s gauge of time was not the best right now. How many minutes had it been? He gushed tap water in a plastic cup, shovelled in some ice, and downed it all. The coldness stilled his insides, steeled his resolve –
Mask secured, Oikawa exited the kitchen and there –
Then –
Time.
Stopped.
Dim lamp lights like fireflies across black water. Loud music? What music? The silence was like a vacuum, and if a vacuum could make a sound, it would be a deep, reverberating bass that passed through heart to spirit to soul. People. People were blurred.
But that ugly brown couch.
With two people.
One Oikawa didn’t know. And the other –
He was on his phone. The screen reflecting on those gorgeous features.
Perfection.
As clear as day.
Oikawa had almost stumbled (almost) but had managed to appear before the Nobody who was sipping on a cup, staring at a bunch of voracious girls in the corner, laughing and dancing.
‘You’re in my seat,’ Oikawa said behind the clown mask.
Either the guy hadn’t heard him or chose not to, either way –
‘Hey asshole.’
Oikawa had taken off the mask this time and had kicked a foot too. Those eyes swerved to attention, a mixture – alarm, fear, rage – but Oikawa had weighed this loser up from the moment he had locked eyes on him: a Nobody, friendless, here to get laid. A nerd. Easily defeated.
Those eyes locked onto the towering six-foot figure above.
‘Move.’ Oikawa glared.
The boy scampered.
And Oikawa now successfully had the attention of –
‘Hello.’ Oikawa sat on the sofa, frisbeeing the clown mask into oblivion, crossing his legs and putting one arm on the back, his hand near soft ginger hair. If he extended his thumb, he could stroke the skin at the nape of the neck…
‘Hi.’
Ahhhh, he really was gorgeous. Those luminous eyes were now gazing back at Oikawa, all features stood to attention, the phone still on, lit up, but now in his lap, discarded.
‘Do you remember me?’
Oikawa felt a flutter in his stomach as those amber eyes penetrated his, unrelenting, not backing down.
This was the eye contact Oikawa loved: unashamed, unyielding, challenging.
‘Oikawa Toru,’ that soft voice said.
Oikawa felt like his body was made of gold. He smirked, his tongue came out and he smacked his lips together.
‘So you do remember me.’
‘I’m surprised that you remembered me.’
‘No one could ever forget you.’
Oikawa was pleased to see the effect his words had: pink bloomed on those pretty cheeks and the redhead broke eye contact, eyes falling on Oikawa’s hands.
‘Where’s Tobio?’
The question provoked Hinata to look up again.
‘He left,’ Shoyo replied.
Oikawa’s eyes lit up like fireworks. ‘Oh?’
‘Said he wasn’t feeling it.’
‘How come?’
‘He has practice early tomorrow morning.’
‘Volleyball?’
‘Football. Actually.’
‘And you didn’t go with him?’
‘I wanted to party and socialise and meet more people and besides – I’ve worked really hard all week so I wanted to have some fun.’
Oikawa could not hide the sheer delight of finding this lamb in this slaughterhouse.
‘What do you like to do for fun?’ Oikawa ran a hand through his hair. ‘Have you ever been drunk?’
Hinata looked embarrassed again and briefly looked away. ‘Only once. I didn’t enjoy it much. I threw up everywhere!’
‘But,’ Oikawa leaned slightly closer on the sofa, their knees almost touching, ‘have you ever been pleasantly tipsy?’
Oikawa’s eyes bored into Hinata’s and the terrifying thrilling thing was – Hinata stared right back.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean like when you feel slightly woozy in your head, but you still know what’s going on, but you have this warm liberated feeling, like everyone loves you, and you love everyone, and you can do anything. Something like that.’
‘That sounds amazing. Last time I seemed to go from zero to one hundred and felt awful.’
‘Well then,’ Oikawa suddenly leaned in more, bringing his lips close to Hinata’s ear and uttered, ‘would you like to get pleasantly tipsy with me?’
The younger boy flushed red. Oikawa moved back, satisfied with his handy work, as he watched the ginger get tongue-tied and start to stutter.
‘Oi-Oi-Oikawa-san -’
‘Tell you what. I’ll get us some drinks. And lets see how it goes. How does that sound?’
Hinata nodded, mute.
‘But you have to promise me, that anything else fun you think of, anything else that comes to mind that you want to try, you have to tell me, OK?’
Hinata got even redder and stared guiltily back at Oikawa.
‘Promise me chibi-chan.’
‘P-Promise!’
‘Don’t let anyone else steal my seat while I’m gone.’
Oikawa was faster than lightning. He didn’t trust anyone at this party; not a single guy or girl or anyone or anything with that adorable creature sitting on the sofa waiting for him right now. Fuck Tobio. What an idiot. Who the fuck left someone like Hinata alone at a party?!
Well.
The better man deserves better.
Oikawa was back faster than you could say ‘quick attack’.
‘Here ya go chibi-chan -’
He handed Hinata a cup while he sunk back down on the sofa next to him.
‘What is it?’ Hinata stared at the dark sparkling liquid in his cup.
‘Smirnoff. Vodka. With Coke. Not too strong. It’ll taste sweet. Figured I should start you on something light.’
‘I didn’t know you were that considerate.’
Those honey eyes pierced Oikawa’s.
‘Well there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.’
‘Like what?’
‘Ask me after two more drinks and I may tell you.’
‘I will, you know.’
‘I hope so.’
Oikawa smirked and was pleased to see a sparkle in the boy’s eyes.
‘What about you?’ Oikawa cracked open his fourth can of beer and took a slurp. ‘Tell me something I don’t know about you.’
Oikawa watched that pretty thing cast his mind around.
‘Er… I’m doing a degree in Aeronautics. Aviation Science.’
‘Fancy. What does one do with an Aeronautics degree?’
‘Fly.’
‘That suits you well.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’m studying law.’
‘And volleyball?’
‘I dropped.’
‘No way.’
‘Yes way.’
‘But you were so good at it!’
‘So were you.’
‘Yeah but not as good as you! The way you did those perfects sets?! And those jump serves!!?? They were incredible! Incredibly powerful and amazing and -’
Hinata stopped short and turned beetroot, deciding to hide his face by drinking some vodka and coke instead, trying to ignore the fire he’d lit in the eyes of the setter from a rival high school, previously known as The Grand King.
‘You remember me that well?’
There was no way Hinata could make eye contact right now. ‘It – it’s not so surprising Oikawa-san. You were well-known by everyone. I doubt anyone could forget you.’
‘I don’t care about anyone. I do care that you remember though.’
Those golden eyes slowly brought themselves back up and Oikawa was sure that it was the alcohol, surely, making his heart pump that much blood.
But the boy wasn’t an idiot; he carefully steered the conversation away to something else, deflecting the line, not reacting to it and rightly so. It was a cheap shot Oikawa had made with no basis whatsoever and yet…
Hinata asked about the college, about what it was like being in the final year of a degree, how it felt entering into the Big Wide World next. They talked some more, the conversation easily spun, like delicate threads of silk weaving together to create something beautiful. Every now and then it felt more like the sea than silk, with their talk floating on lolling waves just to dip into something deeper for a fraction before coming back to the surface.
It was strange.
Oikawa found that conversation ebbed and flowed easily, too easily, too comfortably, like Oikawa was talking to someone he had known for years, not minutes. These silk threads, these lulling waters were like gentle caresses on Oikawa’s skin. Hinata had got them more drinks. And then a few more. Oikawa slowly descended onto a floating wooden raft out on the sea, basking in the sun, laying on silk cushions.
But really he was drunk on an ugly brown stubbly sofa, empty cans by his feet, leaning closer to this pretty boy with a pretty face and pretty eyes, who spoke in pretty words and sentences.
‘So tell me.’ Hinata said, to the handsome brunette boy next to him on the sofa.
Oikawa had his cheek pressed against the back of his hand which rested on the back of the sofa, as he sat on his side, gazing at the orange-haired beauty.
‘Tell you what?’ Oikawa half-slurred.
‘Something I don’t know about you.’
Oikawa grinned. ‘Ha. You remembered.’
‘So did you.’
‘I bet my hand is bigger than yours.’
‘That’s not something you know.’
‘But it’s something I can find out -’
Oikawa grabbed one of Hinata’s hands, enjoying the shock he felt pass through the younger boy as their skin had touched.
‘Close your fingers,’ Oikawa ordered as he slid his palm down to the base of Hinata’s palm.
Hinata’s hand was so small it barely covered the area of Oikawa’s palm. Oikawa glanced at Hinata and saw those burning cheeks underneath an even more burning gaze that refused to back down.
He grinned. ‘Too cute,’ he said, watching those cheeks flare up even more. ‘Spread out your fingers.’
The boy obeyed, and Oikawa immediately intertwined his fingers with Hinata’s.
Oikawa enjoyed looking at him, looking at that appealing face with flaming hair and flaming cheeks and flaming eyes; those eyes that sometimes were shy but at other times, like now, bold. Oikawa liked the unpredictability, how easily this beauty could shift colours like a chameleon.
‘I bet you don’t know,’ Oikawa said directly into those scorching eyes, whilst holding Hinata’s hand, ‘that I’ve always wanted to talk to you.’
Hinata’s cheeks burned but he felt like if he looked away, he’d lose.
‘Oh really?’ The redhead replied, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
‘You don’t believe me.’
‘No I don’t.’
Oikawa brought their hands down to rest on the edge of his bent knee, his whole body still facing Hinata, and Hinata made no attempt at claiming his hand back.
Oikawa suddenly shifted his body so that he was sat upright on the sofa, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder with Hinata, well, they would’ve been shoulder to shoulder if he was shorter, still holding the younger boy’s hand in his but he didn’t break eye contact as he brought his face closer.
‘Are you dating Tobio?’
Hinata blinked and shook his head, trying to stop himself from looking away.
‘Do you like him?’
‘Not in that way.’
‘Why not?’
‘He’s too… argumentative. Scowling. Angry.’
‘Agreed.’ Oikawa murmured. ‘Do you want to try something new?’
‘L-Like what?’
‘Just say yes or no.’
A heartbeat. A pause. The two of them stared into each other’s eyes right next to each other on the sofa, centimeters apart. If Oikawa pushed against this invisible door… would it open? What exactly was the key? What if it was… as simple as this?
Oikawa crushed his lips against Hinata’s, his free hand snaking its way to the back of Shoyo’s head, his fingers knotting themselves through ginger locks, as Oikawa squeezed their hands together and tasted sharp vodka and sweet Coke –
That muffled cry against Oikawa’s mouth made Oikawa kiss harder and for a few blissful incredible moments Hinata was kissing him back but then –
Oikawa almost fell face down on the sofa.
That warm body and grip had wrenched free from his grasp and Oikawa was left holding his torso up by his palm on the warm empty seat, blinking, to find Hinata standing up, cheeks like raspberries, looking like he was about to explode.
‘It’s Kageyama, isn’t it?’
‘What?’ Oikawa blinked, his head like lead, how many had he had now? Five? Wasn’t the shorty supposed to have had like four shots at least? Wasn’t he woozy too? Or actually perhaps that was why his cheeks were so pink –
‘You’re trying to get at Kageyama through me, aren’t you?’
Oikawa’s head lolled to the side, and he narrowed his eyes at Hinata. ‘Fuck. Tobio. He’s a fucking idiot for arguing with you all the time and leaving you here alone. What kind of fucking friend goes to a party with someone and leaves as soon as they arrive?’ Oikawa forced himself up on the sofa, and dragged his arm across the back. ‘I wanted to get you alone and I have so shoot me. Tobio or not, you’d look really pretty with my cock in your mouth.’
Hinata gaped.
Oikawa suddenly groaned and wrapped his arms around his stomach, wincing like he was in pain. ‘Did I just say that out loud? No wait!! -’
Oikawa had lunged and grabbed Hinata’s wrist as the redhead had turned to go –
‘D-Don’t leave!’
Hinata looked furious now, his cheeks still pink from alcohol or embarrassment or the kiss or Oikawa’s inappropriate sentence or all of the above. His expression was not happy. He tried to pull away but Oikawa’s grip was like a vice.
‘I – I can be a better boyfriend than him!’
‘He’s not my boyfriend!!’
‘I would treat you better!’
‘By putting your dick in my mouth?!’
‘That came out wrong!’
‘Oi-kawa-san – let go!’
Hinata pulled but Oikawa was still holding on for dear life.
‘I would never leave you alone at a party!’
‘You’re – you’re drunk, Oikawa-san!!’
‘Oh yeah?! Well why aren’t you drunk too?? You’re supposed to get tipsy with me!’
Oikawa yanked back with all his strength and Hinata stumbled on top of Oikawa on the sofa to the wolf-whistles and cheers of a few rowdy onlookers. Oikawa wrapped his other arm around Hinata securing the boy to him, while he still had his cast-iron grip around that frail wrist as Hinata helplessly peered back into his eyes and tried weakly to wriggle free.
‘I apologise, chibi chibi. How can I make it up to you?’
‘You can start by letting go.’
‘But then you’ll leave me.’
Oikawa waited. Hinata neither confirmed or denied his suspicions. Neither of them moved.
‘I’ll let you go if you promise to stay for five more minutes. After five minutes you can go.’ Oikawa gazed down into Hinata’s eyes.
‘I could just scream. Then you’d have to let me go.’
‘Please. Let me make it up to you.’
They stared at each other some more.
‘Fine,’ Hinata relented.
Slowly, like a snake uncoiling its grip, Oikawa let go and both of them sat up on the sofa just like they were when their encounter had begun.
Oikawa’s head felt heavy like there were weights balancing in his brain. The kiss still lingered – vodka, coke, delicious – was he delirious? He could still think, he wasn’t that out of it but his mouth had run away with him and his cheeks felt warm, and his chest felt like it could burst, and there right next to him on the sofa was an angel.
Oikawa brought a palm to his forehead and frowned.
Fuck.
Never in his life before had he wished this much that he was sober.
He could do this. Could he? Yes. Of course he could. He was Oikawa fucking Toru and if anyone could stay suave and manipulative whilst drunk then it was him.
‘I – I-’
I fucking what?!
Oikawa had the sudden feeling claw at his chest, like he was dangling off the edge of a cliff barely holding onto a tuft of grass.
And as those honey-coloured eyes looked at him, really looked at him, the snow rolled, and rolled some more, bigger and bigger now: straws, grass, snow – none of these things were strong enough, they never were, yet why did he always rely on them? He was the boy, the one from that story, who’d cried wolf so many times that no one believed him anymore. Was it the drink pricking holes in his heart? Or was it these eyes? In that moment Oikawa felt the weight of his invisible royal robes. And a feeling, like parading down a village in a procession, wearing nothing but said robes, only to have the realisation of his nudity crush him.
He knew now…
In a way…
He’d lost from the beginning…
Even a bow, a dogeza, wouldn’t be good enough. It tore at him, vicious, like a cheetah on his lap, scratching his skin to shreds. A bubble rose up in his chest of all the things he might say, could say, but then it popped.
It was cruel. It felt like the Nationals was right before him once again, within his sight but ever out of reach.
And this boy here, reminding him that he wasn’t good enough.
One more thing he truly wanted but couldn’t have.
This whole thing was a mistake.
‘I just want you to know -’ Oikawa began and then faltered.
It felt like something was lodged in his chest. What was this feeling? It was a feeling he recognised, a feeling he’d come to live with.
Ah, that’s what it was.
That feeling of never being believed.
It twisted into Oikawa’s gut like a screwdriver making his eyes shimmer – almost. He barked a laugh and shook his head.
One day he wouldn’t feel like this. One day he’d get it right.
He stood up.
The room swam for a moment. It swayed. Stopped.
Water. Water sounded lovely.
Oikawa took a few steps forward then stumbled –
He fell face-first onto a hard wooden surface. Something smashed. Someone screamed. Oikawa felt warm liquid trickle onto his lip. There were arms pulling him up. Someone started yelling.
‘I’m fine,’ Oikawa said to no one in particular.
‘He’s bleeding!!’ someone said.
When Oikawa opened his mouth he felt that wet warmth trickle down to his chin and could taste something coppery –
Perhaps a bottle had smashed because people were asking for a dustpan and brush – Oikawa stumbled towards the door to the garden –
‘Hey you’re dripping blood!’
‘IWA-CHAN!!!!’ Oikawa bellowed into the night, ignoring the audience behind him. ‘I’m heartbroken and leaving! We need to go now!’
Fuck. Oikawa could barely talk properly there was a lot of liquid dribbling into his mouth. Oikawa swiped his nose and saw a shit tonne of blood on his hand.
‘IIIWA! I’m bleeeeeedinggggg -’
‘Pipe it down shittykawa -’ Iwaizumi’s voice came from somewhere in the dark. ‘Matsu is coming!’
Oikawa pulled at the hem of his shirt, bringing it to his nose, wiping and then clamping down on his nostrils. Moments later, Matsu emerged, with his classic Unimpressed Matsu Face, swirling a set of keys round a finger.
‘Shit. Not again.’ Matsu wrapped an arm around Oikawa’s waist. ‘Come on. I’ll drop you.’
Guiding Oikawa through the chaos he’d caused, blood on the laminate floor and glass too, passing grumbling and worried people, the only upside were the gasps and squeals of random females who caught sight of Oikawa’s six-pack now that his t-shirt was covering half his face.
‘Water,’ Oikawa croaked, ‘I need… water…’
‘What were you out in the dessert for forty days and forty nights?’
The bumbling duo reached the door, when –
‘Oi – Oikawa-san!’
Oikawa straightened up and turned far too quickly. His head spun and he would’ve stumbled again if his arm was around Matsu’s shoulders, and if Matsu wasn’t holding his torso up.
But there in the hallway.
That gorgeous orange-haired thing, holding a roll of paper towels and a glass of water.
Angel.
Oikawa felt his heart float to the heavens.
‘Hey it’s that kid from high school!’ Matsu had also turned his head, shocked to see the redhead from yesteryear.
‘Y-you should – stop the bleeding first. Otherwise you’ll get blood in the car -’
‘He has a point,’ Matsu murmured, still clutching the keys. ‘I don’t think Iwa would be happy with your blood on his seats -’
But Oikawa was staring at the younger boy.
‘A-and you’re probably thirsty too,’ Hinata said, his cheeks still pink and his eyes bright.
‘I am,’ Oikawa said, muffled against his t-shirt, ‘very thirsty. Ow!! What was that for?!’
Matsu had elbowed him in the side.
‘Y-you should sit down and tilt your head slightly forward, your body too, to stop the bleeding,’ Hinata continued. ‘You’ll need to pinch the bridge of your nose for ten minutes -’
‘Matsu you can go now,’ Oikawa mumbled through the material.
‘What?!’ Matsu stared as Oikawa disentangled himself.
‘My doctor has arrived.’
Oikawa slumped down against the wall, sitting on the floor of the hallway, too tall to stretch his legs so he bent them. Hinata offered two strips of paper towel and Oikawa used that instead.
‘Lean slightly forward,’ Hinata instructed and Oikawa obeyed.
‘Matsu, be a good sport and come back in ten minutes, would ya?’ Oikawa looked up at Matsu and winked.
‘You’re unbelievable.’ Matsu wasn’t sure whether to laugh or tear his hair out. ‘You’re not drinking anymore. Hey ginger, can you make sure he’s on water? I’ll be back to check on this fruit cake in ten minutes -’
‘It’s milk bread actually,’ Oikawa retorted, as Matsu climbed over and marched back to the party.
Hinata squatted by Oikawa, inspecting him.
‘If you hold your nose and tilt your head back a bit you can drink some water -’ Hinata offered the glass.
Oikawa carefully took it and did as he was told. The cold water felt like a new lease of life.
‘Since when did you know so much, doc?’
‘Since I had a nosebleed a few weeks ago and consulted Dr Google.’
‘Ah Dr Google. I see.’ Oikawa returned to leaning forward and tilting his head forward. His eyes still looked up and latched onto Hinata’s gaze.
Oikawa was happy to see that this always seemed to make his doctor redder.
‘I hope the rest of your night goes better,’ Oikawa sounded funny with his nostrils closed, ‘and that you have fun like you wanted. With good company. Who won’t say or do the wrong thing. And end up with a nosebleed.’
Oikawa’s heart perked up when he saw the redhead smile. And when Hinata shyly glanced down and then looked back up again, the beer in Oikawa told him that he was talking to his soul mate.
‘I am sorry,’ Oikawa said to those magnificent eyes, ‘and I will make it up to you. If you let me.’
Hinata’s mouth cracked into an amused grin. Oikawa took the opportunity to show off his Adam’s apple by chugging down the whole glass of water.
‘What were you going to say earlier?’ Hinata asked. ‘Before you stood up.’
‘Is that why you’re here?’ Oikawa surveyed him. ‘To scratch an itch?’
‘That’s one reason.’
‘Well in that case. I’ll answer you. Next time.’ Oikawa let his gaze penetrate Hinata’s, let that feeling wash over him again. ‘So that there has to be a next time.’
The eye contact was sublime. No one was ever able to hold Oikawa’s gaze for this long.
‘Give me another reason,’ Oikawa chanced.
Hinata wet his lips and bit his bottom lip, thinking. He searched the ceiling and when he found the answer up there, he locked eyes with Oikawa once more.
‘You make me curious.’
‘I do?’
‘You do. It’s like I can’t understand you and yet I can…’
Don’t fuck this up. Oikawa closed his eyes and breathed in through his mouth. If this was a second chance he’d treat it like a newborn kitten.
‘I don’t feel well,’ Oikawa figured was the safest thing to say.
‘Let me get you more water -’
Hinata came back with two more glasses and Oikawa began sipping carefully.
‘Are you still bleeding?’
‘I’m not sure. I’m scared to let my hand go.’
‘Let go for just a second -’
Oikawa obeyed and felt a slither trickled out.
‘It’s definitely less than before but maybe five more minutes -’
Hinata gave Oikawa fresh paper towels and Oikawa clamped down on his nostrils once again.
‘You’re different,’ Oikawa hummed.
‘What do you mean?’
‘From high school.’
‘In what way?’
‘You’re more -’ Oikawa eyed Hinata, ‘grown up.’
Hinata burst out laughing. ‘Apparently that’s a thing that happens to people after high school. I’m not sure about you though,’ Hinata’s eyes twinkled.
‘You’re lucky I’m in no state to chase you down for that.’
Hinata gave the juiciest grin and Oikawa thought he heard those eyes say: am I?
‘How’s the patient doing?’ came Matsu’s voice and then –
‘That. Kid. Kar – Kar-’
‘Karasuno,’ Oikawa finished the sentence for Maki, looking up at the three intimidating figures, Maki completely stoned.
‘Hello,’ Hinata stood up and brandished a smile at Maki, Matsu and Iwa, with no idea of how charming he looked.
‘Long time,’ Iwaizumi gave a respectful nod of acknowledgment. ‘Thanks for looking after our party bumpkin.’
‘I’m not a bumpkin!’ a muffled voice came from below.
‘He’s better,’ Hinata reported. ‘The bleeding has almost stopped. And he’s had some water.’
‘Right then. Crappykawa. Let’s get out of here.’
Why why why why? Why did they have to come now when he had time with shorty pie?
Reluctant but out of luck, Oikawa used a hand to carefully push himself up –
A hand latched onto his arm to help him and he latched onto the arm in return –
Oikawa’s heart boomed like a bomb in the ocean, the waves washing over him in floods of warmth.
Even after Oikawa was standing up straight, he didn’t let go of the smooth silky skin that he clutched on that slender arm. Pools of rich crystal amber peered back at him like light through a stain glass window.
No matter how dark, light always attracted him.
Someone coughed.
A cool breeze grazed his skin.
‘Er… we’ll wait for you in the car…’
Matsu’s voice.
It broke Oikawa’s reverie.
He stood to attention and let go, still with one hand covering his nose. He was standing by an open front door and his friends had left.
He turned back to the shrimp.
So much to say. No time to say it. No time to say it and verify the weight behind those words. The weight behind those words that were nothing more than a hunch, an inkling, a question attached to the future.
‘Well then…’ Oikawa began.
Fuck.
This wasn’t what he’d planned at all. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. What lucky fucker was going to hit on chibi-chan now? What girl would sidle up to him? Who would he leave with?
The question was enough fuel to inflate a hot air balloon of outrage.
But the clock was ticking.
And anymore attempts at capture, Oikawa was sure, would lead to Hinata flying away, never to give Oikawa the time of day ever again.
Oikawa released the paper and no blood trickled out. He did not want to sound like he had a stuffed nose if these were going to be his last words to the redhead. Especially this redhead with curious amused eyes, like an expert chess player, waiting for an amateur to make a move.
You’re the perfect height to fuck.
Fuck no.
No. Oikawa would not be saying that.
Shit.
What charm did he have left with a battered, bloody nose?
Fuck it –
‘Message me.’
‘How?’
‘On Insta.’
The redhead gave no affirmation. Oikawa slid his hand to the nape of Hinata’s neck, running fingers through soft hair, and bent forward so that his eyes were level with Hinata’s.
Oikawa enjoyed watching the shorty blink and turn red at the closeness of Oikawa’s face, the uncertainty of what he’d do next.
‘I’ll be waiting.’ Oikawa said.
He let go of Hinata’s neck and stood up straight, a good bout of inches taller.
It was not like he could kidnap Hinata. Not like he was in the mafia. Letting go was not Oikawa’s strong point, it was not something he was used to doing when what he wanted was literally within grasp.
But –
Despite this curdling feeling of uncertainty, of cutting the rope, Oikawa forced himself to smile and earned a grin back as a reward.
What was Hinata really thinking? Oikawa was –
​
BEEEEEEEEP BEEP BEEP!
‘OI TRASHYKAWA!!!’
For fuck sake.
Oikawa’s feet were glued to the floor. And his heart was repulsed by the open door. But his instinct knew…
​
So Oikawa walked away from being a cage, in the only way he knew how: with his shoulders back and head tall, in hope that if he believed he was worth it then he would be.
One day, he would be.