Archive of Our Own

Oikawa almost doesn’t make it in time. His stomach heaves and his throat chokes over the toilet as everything empties out. His fingers slip over the porcelain as he tries to grasp the bowl. He sucks in a breath each time the acid burns his throat, and the taste makes him sicker. His knees are going to bruise from hitting the tile. His stomach, boiling as the sweat breaks out on his forehead. His hands shake. 

“Hajime...” He gasps, but his voice falls short, barely reaching the door before he doubles over again. His head feels dizzy.  

“HAJIME, AJjk—” He shouts and hurls Iwaizumi’s name into the toilet with what feels like all of his organs. He slides further on the bathroom floor, hugging the toilet to his chest. His shoulders won't stop shaking. His head is spinning in circles. 

“Hajime!” He gasps. 

Iwaizumi opens his eyes, and in the darkness, he reaches over to Oikawa’s spot in the bed. He looks up, his hand falling flat on the sheets. 

“Hajim—shlpwop” he hears and Iwaizumi bolts up. He throws the sheets away and leaps from the bed, the sound of Oikawa in the bathroom pulling him forward.

“Tooru?!” He shouts and slams against the door frame. 

Oikawa’s leaning over the toilet when Iwaizumi opens the door more not bothering to try and keep it from hitting the wall. He crouches down next to Oikawa and scoops his hands around his face, pulling his hair away from his mouth. 

Iwaizumi wraps an arm around Oikawa’s waist holding him up as he starts to slide further onto the floor. His limbs heavy.  

“It won't— it won't stop,” he says and hurls even more. He gasps and coughs for breath as Iwaizumi reaches a hand above the counter for one of the clips or hair ties Oikawa keeps. He’s shaking against him, against Iwaizumi’s body. 

“It was probably the food,” He says and shoves the tie in his mouth as he fastens the clip to Oikawa’s bangs and then pulls back the rest of his hair. His face is dripping with sweat and Iwaizumi can feel the heat radiating off of Oikawa’s body. And he fidgets under Iwaizumi’s added heat his shirt sticking to his skin.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Imaizumi whispers as he leans Tooru back onto his chest, grabbing a shirt from the floor and using it to mop across Oikawa’s face. 

“No—” Oikawa says and tries to lean forward again but doesn’t make it. The vomit spills over his lips and down his shirt before the rest splatters in the toilet. Oikawa coughs and tries to breathe between the smell, and the heat, and the acid in his mouth. 

“Shhh,” Iwaizumi says and wipes away the vomit from Oikawa’s chin; the smell hits his nose like a deadly mist and he cringes, scrunching up his nose. 

“It hurts,” Oikawa cries and tears start to stream down his face,

“It hurts—” his hands press tight against his abdomen and pull at his shirt before vomiting again. 

Iwaizumi looks down at his hand, at the vomit smeared across his fingers, and the streaks of red mingled into everything; dark crimson clumps sit in the creases of his palm, dripping to his wrist. 

“Oi,” Iwaizumi says and reaches up to turn on the water, running his hand under it. 

Oikawa tilts his head to say he’s listening and Iwaizumi pulls up on Oikawa’s shirt, tugging it off of his body, and Oikawa tries to swallow the vomit in his throat in the seconds it takes. Iwaizumi presses the back of his hand to Oikawa’s neck and then moves to his forehead. 

“You’re hot,” 

“Mm,” Oikawa moans and opens his mouth again to let the red vomit spill from his lips. It comes over like a waterfall of pain and drips into the toilet. He hates how it feels warm on his skin. 
Iwaizumi’s heart drops when Oikawa starts to fall again and he rushes to lift him up, pressing his chest to Oikawa’s back, holding him up as they both sit in front of the toilet. He needs to get to his phone, or to a bucket. 

Iwaizumi looks around the bathroom, and eyes the trash can. He presses a kiss to the back of Oikawa’s neck as he props him up against the toilet, running his hand down his back to try and soothe him. Oikawa heaves again and his knuckles turn white as he holds the edge of the toilet bowl. His shoulders are shaking.

“Hajime...” Oikawa groans and Iwaizumi leans left, reaching for the trash. 

With one hand around Oikawa’s waist, he uses the other to rip the bag off the basket and throws it across the room. He pushes the plastic bin into Oikawa’s arms shifting him over it and gets to his feet. 

“Use that for now, okay...” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa just takes it, his face nearly disappearing past its rim. 

Iwaizumi crouches down next to Oikawa and leans him back as he hugs the basket. He fits his arms under Oikawa’s knees and back and lifts Oikawa into his arms. Oikawa continues to throw up as Iwaizumi shuffles out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

The blood in Oikawa’s vomit only thickens, the more time goes by, and Iwaizumi runs faster. He collects his keys and phone and doesn’t bother to lock the front door. He sets Oikawa in the passenger seat of the car and buckles him in as he heaves one more time. More blood drips from his mouth. 

The city still sleeps around them as they race down the streets, Oikawa moaning and clutching his waist, trying not to spill his bucket of vomit in the car. 

“Can you open a...nn,” Oikawa doesn’t finish before Iwaizumi slams down the button for his window letting the wind flood their car, circulating the air and their fear with it. Oikawa leans his head out as much as he can to breathe in the cold night air. It helps only a fraction of the pain in his stomach, the nausea sending the world into a kaleidoscope.  

Iwaizumi’s hands squeeze the wheel, his foot presses harder on the pedal as he sees the hospital sign at the end of the road. His lungs tighten in his chest as he holds his breath. 

“Haji—” 

“I know, we’re almost there, just hold on...” Iwaizumi feel his face heating up with Oikawa’s body shaking next to his and him unable to do anything to help. He glances every 5 seconds from the road to Oikawa. He can’t take his attention off of either.  

The moments seem to flow tiredly once they’ve parked the car, as Iwaizumi swings open Oikawa’s side, and scoops him into his arms again. He carries him. 

All the way to the door. He shouts. 

“Help, He needs he-lp,” His voice cracks. He holds his breath again. He holds back every tear. He shouts. 

“Help! Please!” 

A woman comes running. She waves over a rolling bed. Iwaizumi doesn’t want to let go. But he sets him down anyways. 

And as soon as he does Oikawa throws up more blood rolling to his side as he chokes on a lot of it.

“Tooru!” Iwaizumi almost screams and his hand reaches out to lift his head. He feels the warmth, of the blood. Red and hot soaking through his shoes. He feels Oikawa shake and grasp his wrist. His face tortured, creases forming in places Iwaizumi hadn’t realized could fold, tears running over his cheeks, blinding him. 

“I’ll be right here—” He whispers.

“Hajime...” 

“I’ll be here.” 

“What’s happening?” A woman asks as she sits Oikawa up in the bed and blood spills over his lips onto his lap. He groans in pain as the woman touches him.

“He just woke up and started throwing up, he’s throwing up blood.” Iwaizumi answers and squeezes Oikawa’s hand in his. The woman nods and waves a hand to the other nurses. She presses at his side, at the corner between his hip and his stomach and Oikawa screams. He clutches Iwaizumi’s hand and screams until he’s sobbing in pain. And Iwziumi can barely keep him steady.

“We have to take him,” The doctor says.   

They take him from Iwaizumi like God takes a person’s last breath, with silent and sorrowful hesitation. And Iwaizumi is left drifting forward in slow motion after Oikawa, his hand still extended until he stumbles. And meets the wall of one nurse who keeps him in the waiting room.  

Iwaizumi’s vision disappears behind his lids as he blinks through the tears. They drip to the floor one by one onto his shoes leaving prints in the pool of blood he still stands in.  

“Okay honey,” the nurse says and Iwaizumi shakes as he looks up. He steps away from her. His hands balled into fists at his sides.

“We’re gonna do everything we can for him, okay?” The woman says and puts a hand on his back. He follows her hand to the seats of the waiting room. And falls into one.

“Would you like some water?” And Iwaizumi wipes away the tears with his arm, shaking his head. He needs to call someone. He needs to call Mrs.Oikawa. 

“Can I—” 

“Can I go with him?” Iwaizumi says and tries to stand, and the woman looks at him with a look of pity a hand dashing up to his chest to stop him.  

“Not unless you’re family, or married,” She says and glances to his left hand, but there’s no ring there. Not yet. And Iwaizumi squeezes his fist with the empty spot he’s saving for that day. 

“Okay...” He says and sits back down. She nods walking away as the rest of the waiters wait and watch and wish for their loved ones to be okay. Iwaizumi joins them, in their hoping as he types in the number of Oikawa’s mother, as it goes to voicemail and he remembers they’re out of town. As he leaves a message for her that her son is in the hospital, that he’s scared. As he starts to cry again, he hopes. He waits. In silence. 

Iwaizumi pulls up a message screen. 

Iwaizumi: SOS

Delivered 3:19 am. 

Mattsun: ... 

Mattsun: What’s happened?

Read 3:20 am. 

Iwaizumi: Tooru’s in the hospital. He was vomiting blood. 

Delivered 3:20 am. 

Mattsun: Fuck! Makki and I are on our way!

Read 3:21 am. 

Iwaizumi: Thanks, also

Iwaizumi: could I borrow a change of clothes?

Iwaizumi: Tooru threw up on mine,

Delivered 3:22

Iwaizumi shakes at the smell of that thought still lingering on him, and he holds his breath again. His hands shake. 

Mattsun: ...

Mattsun: Of course! We’ll be there in 20 min!

Read 3:24 am.

Iwaizumi shuts the phone down, shoving it in his pocket. He hates waiting. 

“He your boyfriend?” an elderly voice asks and Iwaizumi looks up to the woman with grey curly hair and nods. 

“They’ve got good doctor’s here,” she says,

“Naobi?” The woman at the desk says just as a man comes walking out leaning on his cane.

“My husband’s had 4 surgeries here, not a single complication.” She finishes, and Iwaizumi smiles as the man walks over to them.

“I’m sure your love will be fine too.”

She walks over to his side and he offers her his hand to hold. 

“Thank you,” Iwaizumi whispers, but she doesn’t hear him, already too far away. 

Iwaizumi’s leg shakes. Up down up down up down. 

He glances at the clock. 

3:40 am.

He turns on his phone. 

3:40 am. 

Up down up down updownupdownupdownupdownupdown. He holds his breath and lets it out, trying to count the seconds in his trapped up thoughts of Oikawa. 

He stands up and walks to the desk his steps echoing in the silence of these white walls. He pushes his hands against the counter and the woman looks up, and he holds his breath.

“Are you sure—” 

“I’m sorry, you cannot go in after him,” she says and he nods. 

He walks back to the chair but he doesn’t sit down, he just stares at it. There are light red footprints where his shoes pressed into the floor, stained with Oikawa’s blood. He wipes his nose, the smell bothering him again. 

He looks at the clock. 

3:50 am. 

Iwaizumi is about to message Mattsun again when a doctor comes in rushing through the sliding doors. Iwaizumi stands, hope filling his chest like an insufferable liquid. 

She leans over the desk to the woman behind it who points to Iwaizumi nodding and Iwaizumi’s breath tightens in his chest, he counts the doctor's footsteps unable to move closer or away from her.

“Are you here for Oikawu Tooru?”

“Yes, Hi,” Iwaizumi bows his head hurriedly, straining to breathe. 

“We’ve identified the, and we’ve taken him into surgery.”

“You’re not married, but if you can prove you’ve been together for more than 5 years, we can legally consider you life partners and give you his information,” she continues and Iwaizumi pulls his phone out of his pocket. It’s dated, he knows it is. He scrolls through his texts. He has a bill,

“Here, it’s our house bill, we’ve lived there together, both our names are on it,” he says and shoves his phone into the doctor's hands. She scans the photo and nods. 

“It’s in his bowel, there’s considerable damage, but we’re doing our best.”  

Iwaizumi falls back into the seat. He can feel his skin rise up in a heated fear that spreads over his shoulders. The doctor hands him back his phone.  

“Is he...” 

“He should be fine, we suspect it was due to his appendix, when it burst it may have caused excess tearing.” The doctor reaches out to Iwaizumi as she speaks. Iwaizumi lets his head fall into his hands his palms pressing into his eyes. Her voice comes in and out of his mind, and he tries to make sense of all her jargon, but he can barely think past the word “surgery”. His head feels heavy again.  

“Do you need anything? Extra clothes, food?” 

He looks up at her, her eyes are so blue. Her eyes are sad.  

“No, I’ve got— someone’s coming for me,” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t look at her as she walks away, but traces the outline of his bloody shoes on the floor. The blood is already dry. 

Iwaizumi breathes in and out of his clamped fists, pressing his nose into the spiral his fingers make. Then, the sliding doors open and Mattsun comes in. He runs to the desk and speaks to the woman pulling Makki along by the hand.

“Mattsun!” Iwaizumi calls and Matsukawa looks up his eyes widening at the mess Iwaizumi is. 

He rushes over to Iwaizumi and pulls him towards him into a hug. Iwaizumi grasps at the fabric of Mattsun’s shirt, holding tight to him for support feeling for the first time like he might collapse. 

“How’re you holding up?” Mattsun says pulling away. Makki peers over Mattsun’s shoulder at Iwaizumi waving a small hand, both their brows threaded tight on their foreheads in concern. 

“They just—” Iwaizumi can barely speak, the pain of tears behind his eyes welling up again inside. 

“They just took him into surgery,” He whispers and Makki’s hand covers his mouth sucking in a breath.

“Is he okay?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t know Mattsun but—” Iwaizumi holds his breath. His chest tightens as he tries to find any words at all.  

“I can’t—” his throat closes around his words, his hands come up to wipe at his eyes, his cheeks damp again.

“I can’t lose him? I can’t—” 

“Shhh,” Makki says crossing Mattsun to pull Iwaizumi into a hug, 

“It’s okay, let’s just get you changed, you reek,” Makki says. 

Iwaizumi nods, sucking in a shaky breath between thoughts and trying to keep his hands from shaking. Mattsun hands him a plastic bag with a t-shirt and sweatpants in it. He scratches the back of his neck when he looks at Iwaizumi’s shoes,

“I don’t have shoes but I think I’ve got some extra shower slides in the trunk if you want those?” Mattsun says but Iwaizumi doesn’t answer so Makki nods and nudges Mattsun to go. 

“Is there a bathroom nearby?” Makki asks the woman behind the counter and she nods, pointing down the hall. 

“Come on,” Makki says and leads Iwaizumi down the hall the woman pointed to. 

“Thank you,” he says to her. 

Iwaizumi rips the bag open on the bathroom counter, Makki sitting next to the long sinks. He pulls out the old black band shirt and Iwaizumi recognizes it. It looks just like the one Oikawa has, he wears it to bed sometimes, or when they watch movies in their underwear and throw popcorn at each other. Oikawa went to the concert with Mattsun and Makki and they all got matching shirts, black with a neon logo. Iwaizumi brings the shirt to his forehead but the shirt only smells of Mattsun’s cologne. He can picture it, he can picture Oikawa wearing it. 

He tugs his shirt off his back, throwing it in the sink with running water, the white porcelain filling up with pink. 

The door swings open and Mattsun’s head pokes in just as Iwaizumi takes his pants off. He drops the slides on the ground in front of him and nods, words failing all of them. They wait as Iwaizumi dresses, dumping his clothes in the sink the water soaking them, lifting the blood from the surface, staining clear tears pink. 

Iwaizumi watches as the clothes darken and darken in the bloody water and holds every breath close. Mattsun’s hand grips down on his shoulder. 

“It’ll be okay,” he says and Iwaizumi wants to shake him off. He wants to refuse any words until he knows for certain they’re true. He meets Mattsun’s eyes in the mirror and they stare each other down like dark beasts in the night, terrified and sad. 

“We’ll wait for you in the waiting room,” Makki says and the tension floods out the door as he opens it. He pulls Mattsun away by the hand and Iwaizumi returns to his whirlpool of blood in the sink. 

He rubs at the clothes until the color in the fabric fades. He tries to turn it in the sink, tries to find its beginning in this watery muck. But it’s gone. It’s disappeared. 

“Shlp, shlp.”

“AHHHHHHHH!” Iwaizumi picks up the shirt and pants and shove them into the garbage, pushing down the paper towels and rags with them. They slop around and fumble into the bin and he piles them in, kicking the plastic tub. He shoves it against the wall, hitting it until he feels his chest release something it hadn’t before.

“Hhhu-hu,” he sniffs and rubs at his nose. He walks in a circle, eyeing the trash can. 

The door opens and Iwaizumi jumps back, sucking in a breath as his heart leaps into his throat. 

“Woah, sorry,” The man says. Iwaizumi shakes a hand before turning to the counter, pressing his palms to it. The man ignores him and Iwaizumi leaves when he’s distracted by his own business. 

The air is heavy in the waiting room, as they collectively breathe in the silence. Iwaizumi leans over his knees, he folds and unfolds his hands and listens to Makki’s whispered breaths to Mattsun. Only a few people wait in the waiting chairs, most asleep next to others and Iwaizumi rubs at his eyes, the pull of sleep tugging them closed.           

He glances at the clock again, the hands ticking by at what feels like a standstill pace.

4:00 am.

...

5:00 am.

... 

5:30 am.

Iwaizumi opens his phone again looking for a message from Mrs.Oikawa, but the screen is blank, and Iwaizumi stares into Oikawa’s face, his smile goofy and bright, and he tries to remember the day he took that picture.~

“Oh my God Iwa-chan LOOK!” He squeals and pulls Iwaizumi towards the tent, the massive shadow casting over them providing some relief from the sun. He picks up one of the products and places it on his head. 

The farmer’s market had become a kind of tradition, once a month. They get up impossibly early and watch the summer sun come up, drink coffee, then get dressed and walk to the market. And in the afternoon they nap until they ruin their sleep for that night. 

It’s a flower crown, filled with peach roses and baby’s breath, and teal painted tulips. He tilts his head and smiles in only a way he can. 

“Stay there for a second,” Iwaizumi says and leads Oikawa a little further so the light hits his face and the crown. He pulls out his phone and Oikawa smiles, posing like he thinks he needs to. 

Iwaizumi turns on vivid so it’s bright, and portrait so all he can focus on his Oikawa. It’s the best photo he’s taken of him. And he’s taken too many to count. But this one is his favorite so far. He shows it to him and Oikawa hold the crown to his head as he looks down, 

“Oh, Hajime it’s beautiful!! Send that to me!” He says and pulls out his phone. Iwaizumi sends the photo to him and watches as he edits it. The vender watching nervously over her product as they do.

"He’ll take it,” Iwaizumi says and sets down the bills waiting for her to give any change. 

“You like it?” Oikawa says when Iwaizumi returns and holds out the photo on his Instagram, 

“Eh,” he says and shrugs and Oikawa gasps and hits his shoulder.

“Mean, Iwa-chan!” he says but takes Iwaizumi’s arm around his anyways. They start to walk and Oikawa jumps to take the crown off but Iwaizumi stops him.

“Don’t worry, I already paid for it,” He says and Oikawa looks surprised, but smiles and puts it back on his head before noticing another stall. 

Iwaizumi waits for him, while he browses. He stares down at the picture. At Oikawa’s smile and sighs. He sets it as his lock screen, so he can always see it. 

~ Iwaizumi bites his lip, his mouth itchy with a smile he can’t bear to have right now. But the smile fades as he begins to hate the photo. He can’t imagine only looking at a stupid photo of him for the rest of the night. Or even longer. He can’t imagine not seeing that smile again but only in a collection of cold frozen pixels. His memories aren’t enough. 

Iwaizumi rubs at his eyes, the soft warm tears dripping from the tips of his lashes. Part of him wishes they would stop, and another wishes they’d continue forever, because it’s the only relief he has right now. His whole face weighted down with sleep and salty despair seeping onto the tip of his tongue. 

Makki’s hand rubs on his back and he looks over his shoulder at him. Mattsun is starting to fall asleep. 

6:00 am.  

The doctor comes out again, softer than the first time, her eyes still blue. Still sad. She looks for him in the waiting room, and he stands when their eyes meet.

“Is he,” He gasps out the words willing his heart to stop racing and she nods, and she approaches.

“He’s in recovery,” her words come like a soft song of hallelujah, and Iwaizumi feels his lungs flutter with relief and then faster and faster his entire chest heaves and he can’t stop breathing, it all rushes through him so fast. He falls back into the chair. Makki sits next to him and Iwaizum’s head feels dizzy again. 

“He’s alive,” he gaps. His hands shake. He can’t get enough air. His tears overwhelm him with sobs. He doesn’t try to muffle any of it, he wants to cry and scream and melt into his emotions. He wants to feel it all cause the news doesn’t feel real and he’s so desperate for it to be. 

“He’s alive,” he sobs.  

“Mr. Iwaizumi,” The doctor crouches down and puts her hand on his shoulder. He lifts his head.

“Yes,” He thought he’d be able to breathe better when he found out Oikawa was fine, but he can barely feel the air at all.

“Iwaizumi, I’m gonna need you to breathe,” she says and takes his shaking hand. 

“In and out.” She whispers and he’s lost in her eyes following the rhythm she sets with the movement of their clasped hands. 

“In and out.” 

He pulls her into him, he doesn’t even think to ask, and he feels bad he doesn’t because she’s surprised when he hugs her.

“Thank you,” He whispers,

“Thank you,” he breathes. She settles into the hug and sighs. 

“Yes,” she whispers and he lets go. 

“Sorry, I um— didn’t ask,” he gulps his lungs finally normal and light in his chest. 

“It’s okay,” she says and bows her head. 

Mattsun stands and butts into their bubble,

“Can we see him?” He asks. And she half nods half shakes her head. 

“You can sit outside the room, but until he wakes up we don’t want anyone going in yet,” 

Iwaizumi nods with a sigh, the air is finally refreshing, finally friendly, no longer suffocating. She leads them past the yellow taped doors that stopped him before. Down the hall to a room where Iwaizumi can see Oikawa slumped in a bed. A tube pulls down on his lip, his chest just barely moves with the beep of the machines. 

“He can’t breathe?” Iwaizumi asks. He lowers himself into a chair next to the door and watches as his chest moves up and down. Pushed by a machine.  

“We gave him medication to take him off anesthesia, but it didn’t work as well on him as we expected, so we’re leaving his tube in for the moment, once he wakes up he should be able to breathe on his own.” She says and Iwaizumi feels her hand on his shoulder but when he looks up, it’s Mattsun who’s gripping his shirt into a fist. Iwaizumi is starting to shake again. 

“You guys can stay as long as you’d like,” she whispers and Iwaizumi watches her leave down the hall, a nurse calling her attention. 

“Is there anything we can do, Iwaizumi?” Makki asks, and Iwaizumi looks away from Oikawa. 

Makki clings to Mattsun’s arm, looking from Oikawa to Iwaizumi to the floor, his hands fidgeting. Mattsun looks down at Makki and cups a hand over his.

“Um yeah,” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys to the house. 

“Could you, could you maybe go back to the house and pick up some clothes for him, he’ll need clean ones,” Iwaizumi asks and holds out the keys. Part of him feels disgusted to ask this of them, but another part is begging to not leave his chair unless it’s to go into the room. And he can’t bear to side with any part of him that’s telling him to leave. He should be the one getting his clothes. But he can’t. He can't move. 

Mattsun takes the keys but before he can say anything Makki stands straight, 

“I’ll go, you stay with him Issei,” Makki says trying to take the keys from Mattsun’s hands but Mattsun holds tightly to them blinking and shaking his head. 

“No, I’ll go with you, I don’t want you going alone,” He says 

“Not now,” 

Makki holds tight to his words before he nods and agrees, and Mattsun asks Iwaizumi what to get, and Iwaizumi thinks, of all the clothes in their drawer.

“Bring some soft pajamas, and one of the pillows off our bed,” he whispers and looks back at Oikawa trying to remember anything. 

“Also—” he whispers and Mattsun stops looking back,

“In the closet on the top shelf, there’s a floppy alien plushie... bring that,” Mattsun smirks at the request, but nods all the same turning and following Makki back down the hall.

Iwaizumi turns in his chair and watches Oikawa’s chest rise and fall. Counting his breaths, and wishing he were close enough to feel his heartbeat. 

Nurses and doctors walk back and forth past him, each one glancing at him as a second thought in their hospital. Some have sad eyes like the doctor before, others look at him like he’s a small traffic cone, misplaced in their hallway. He ignores them the best he can and shifts around in his chair. There’s a clock on the wall in Oikawa’s room, and he can just make it out. The hands ticking forward. 

6:40 am. 

He’s still waiting for his phone to ring, to know Oikawa’s mother received his message, but when it does it’s Mattsun calling to say they’re picking up coffee and if he’d like one. 

He nods before he realizes they can’t see him and then he sighs and says yes. He stares at the phone for a moment after he hangs up. She has to call soon. Or maybe she’s already on her way home?

His focus on Oikawa’s chest shifts to his own reflection in the window as he calls her number again. It rings 3 times, and when he thinks it’ll go to voicemail, he hears her voice. She’s searching for him on the other line. 

“Iwaizumi? Iwaizumi? Is Tooru alright?” she never did get used to calling him by his given name. 

“Yeah, he just got out of surgery,” He says. His body tingles all over as he stares through the glass at his lover on that bed. His eyes are still closed. The tube still in place. His body still frozen. 

“Surgery!? Do you know what happened? Oh my god,” She’s starting to sob and Iwaizumi is going to explain it to her, but when his mouth opens no words fall out. He doesn’t want to relive it so he just sucks in a breath.

“He’s fine now, it was his...his appendix,” he forces himself through it all. The lethargy in his bones becoming more and more painful to fight, dragging him down to the ground. He just wants to melt away into a puddle of sobs and warmth. He wants to curl up next to Oikawa and forget everything he’s seen and thought and heard. 

“I’m getting on a plane now, we’re at the airport, we’ll be there in a couple hours.” She says, and he can hear her trying to breathe normally, he can see her hand on her chest like she’s always done when she feels like her life is crumbling apart when Oikawa is in trouble or was or might be or is causing worry. She’s been pressing her hand to her heart to make sure she’s alive since they were children. He can picture her now. Her hand to her heart. 

She hangs up the phone and he lets it slip from his face to his lap. He needs that coffee Mattsun and Makki are getting. He’s scared he’s going to fall asleep. He can’t fall asleep. What if he does, and when he wakes up he’s gone, what if when he wakes up, he’s not in the same reality. He needs to stay awake, so Oikawa can stay alive. 

Iwaizumi watches through the glass. Oikawa’s chest still moves steadily. He scratches his neck, his back starting to ache from sitting in this chair. He looks at the clock again. 

7:00 am.

The sun should be coming out from behind its black curtain right about now, and Iwaizumi yawns. 

“Gak!” it’s a whispered cry and Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa.

“Tooru—TOORU!” Iwaizumi shouts. Oikawa’s hand reaches lazily out for anyone in the dark room. Iwaizumi can hear his gasping against the tube down his throat, choking.

“HELP!” He shouts, he stands and looks around wildly for people to notice him. 

“Help him, please,” His hands slap on the glass, and he can see Oikawa’s eyes. His eyes find him and his hands reach for the tube, and Iwaizumi shakes his head. The tears start to stream again as he shakes his head. Don’t pull out the tube. Don’t do it on your own. A nurse rushes through the door and Iwaizumi follows around the edge of the glass until he’s inside after them. 

She hushes Oikawa as he grapples with the wires around his wrists and fingers and the tube down his throat. Iwaizumi reaches the edge of Oikawa’s bed before his fingers have a chance to pull at the tube. he reaches out and grabs his hand clutching his fingers against his palm. 

“It’s okay, It’s okay,” Iwaizumi cries and kneels down as the nurse positions his head straight and his eyes search wildly around for Iwaizumi. He coughs and chokes as the tube is taken out of his mouth and he hunches over towards Iwaizumi gasping for this new air he’s breathing. Heaving in and out each raspy breath as the tears stream down his cheeks. He blinks away the fuzzy light and Iwaizumi presses his forehead to Oikawa’s gasping for breath in almost the same rhythm as he does. 

“You’re okay, you’re alive—” Iwaizumi whispers and Oikawa breathes in again.

“Hajime,” he calls for him and his hands are shaky now with the pain as he reaches for Iwaizumi’s face. 

“Hajime,” He whispers and Iwaizumi nods, he can see him drifting away again, sleep pulling him beneath those foggy waves.

“I’m here, I’m here Tooru, I’m not going anywhere,” He says and Oikawa slips back under, his hands relaxing in Iwaizumi’s. 

“He’ll wake up again, once he has more energy,” The nurse says and Iwaizumi nods

“I’m gonna stay here,” He says refusing to give them the option of kicking him out, knowing that if he really had to leave they would make him. 

But they don’t and he grabs a chair from the wall and pulls it up to the side of Oikawa’s bed his hand not leaving Oikawa’s. He sits as close as he can and rests his head by Oikawa’s, their noses almost touching. And he can hear him breathe this time, he can feel his breath against his skin, he can feel him being alive. Iwaizumi slips a hand between Oikawa’s shoulders against his chest and closes his eyes. He listens for the subtle thump against his palm, for the feeling of his heart beating against his ribs. Oikawa shifts his head at the touch and his eyes flicker open, still not completely asleep yet. 

“You’re alive,” Iwaizumi whispers to no one but himself this time, his palm still pressed to Oikawa’s heart. His eyes still closed.  

7:15 am.

Mattsun and Makki find Iwaizumi next to Oikawa’s bed when they return, coffee and clothes and plushie in hand. Iwaizumi lifts his head at their concerned looks, Oikawa fully asleep again. 

“He woke up,” He says and Mattsun sets the clothes on a chair. Makki brings Iwaizumi his coffee, the heat warming up his hand. He sips it, and lets it burn his tongue all the way down. 

“Thank you” he whispers, and he spares them the details of how Oikawa choked on his tube, and simply lies his head back on the bed, and his coffee on the floor.

They all sit and wait now. The waiting even worse than before because now they do it alone and don’t look at each other. 

Every time Oikawa shifts, every time he hisses in pain and Iwaizumi thinks he’s going to wake up and doesn’t, they jump. Every time anyone of them breathes too loud for the silence in this room, they jump. Every time. Every time, anything, they panic. 

7:45 am. 

Iwaizumi wonders how far Oikawa’s mother is. He doesn’t remember where Oikawa had said they were traveling. But he hopes it’s close. He hopes the flight is short. He hopes Oikawa wakes up before they get there. He hopes they don’t have to suffer through the waiting like he is. 

He watches Oikawa’s eyes shift under his eyelids. He’s dreaming. He’s dreaming now. Iwaizumi wonders what that dream looks like. He reaches a hand to Oikawa’s chest and feels it, still there. 

The hospital is getting busier.  

8:30 am.

-

- Day 1 

Oikawa’s body is heavy in this bed. His throat, like he swallowed a cup of sand that stole his voice box in the process. His head. His head can’t find anything familiar. But his hands can. 

Iwaizumi’s arm stretches over Oikawa’s waist as he lies next to him. 

“Hajime?” Oikawa whispers and his voice almost sounds like the wind. So distant as if from through a window or tree branches. 

“Iwa—” He tries again. 

Iwaizumi sits up with a gasp when he hears Oikawa call him, his hand tightening around his waist.

“Tooru!” he whispers and sits up, sits closer, hits his knee on the underside of the bed. 

“I’m here,” He whispers and Oikawa’s head rolls lazily on his shoulders, looking towards him with a desperate smile. 

“I’m here,” He says again and Oikawa blinks in response trying to push a broader smile. 

“What—what happ—” 

“You’re appendix burst and caused excess tearing in your bowel. They had to repair it in surgery,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa tries to comprehend the words falling from his mouth. He tries to form his own but his voice falls so short it’s not even there. 

“But you’re okay now,” Makki speaks from the end of his bed and Oikawa lifts his eyebrows at his voice, looking for it in the room. 

“Mahk—”

“Hey, Oikawa,” He waves and Mattsun stands up next to Makki, waving as Oikawa just blinks at them. He smiles just a little and Iwaizumi sighs just a little more.

“Stupid— stup, stupid appendix,” Oikawa says. 

Iwaizumi laughs in a way that sounds more like a sigh, but his smile spreads as he rubs his hand up and down Oikawa’s arm. 

“I called your mom, she’s on her way home,” He tells him and Oikawa nods. His brows twitch as he takes a deep breath his stitches tightening in his skin and the pain weaves its way across his abdomen. He lets out a small wale, holding tight to Iwaizumi’s arm. 

“Are you in pain,” Iwaiuzmi asks and tries to sit even closer. Oikawa lets the air out and smiles, shaking his head. Lying. 

“We can get the nurse,” Iwaizumi says then looks at Mattsun who’s already walking out the open door and waving down a nurse in the hall.

“No,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi looks back at him his hands holding him tighter. 

“How— a kiss to make it better?” Oikawa asks with a small smile again. His eyes are heavier than lead, pulling shut by the weight of his pain but he smiles anyway.
Iwaizumi laughs and almost cries, his hands feeling Oikawa pull on him. He nods, leaning forward. 

He presses a kiss to Oikawa’s forehead. There’s sweat there, beading up and seeping between the cracks in Iwaizumi’s lips. But he breathes in his scent, somehow still clean after all this mess. He kisses his forehead for as long as he can hold his breath and when he tries to pull him away Oikawa tugs again. 

He kisses his cheek and Oikawa leans into it. He can feel Oikawa’s muscles twitch with a smile, and all the sadness that had been sitting in Iwaizumi begins to pour out of him again. He thought he had cried himself to dehydration, but as he sits there kissing him, he finds he could never not have enough tears to shed for this man.

The taste of Oikawa’s lips are just the same, and as Oikawa pulls Iwaizumi for a third kiss Iwaizumi suspects that it’s not just for Oikawa’s pain but also for his own. To make each other, to kiss each other, better.

9:00 am. 

Oikawa falls back asleep when the nurse gives him some more morphine, his head rocking as Iwaizumi talks him to sleep. His hums dissipating into steady breathing. 

“Hey,” Mattsun taps Iwaizumi’s shoulder calling him.
“You should get some sleep,” Mattsun says, picking up the coffee from the ground, only one sip lighter and many degrees colder than when it was handed to him. Iwaizumi looks back at Oikawa, their hands clasped around each other. He should get some sleep. But his hands only hold tighter to Oikawa’s. He nods, smiling as Mattsun rubs his back.

Mattsun and Makki say their goodbyes and say they’ll be back later, holding onto each other as they walk back out the entrance. Their eyes are dark and heavy with exhaustion. And Iwaizumi looks again at the clock Oikawa asleep as the hospital picks up speed. 

9:15 am.

He lies his head down, on the bed, and tells himself he’ll rest his eyes for just a moment but before he can count the seconds he loses himself in the weight of dreaming. 

9:20 am. 

-

-

-

Oikawa’s back aches as he shifts, his bed is still upright. He wants to turn over, and he shuffles, to move his arm and props himself up when it’s pulled tight against something stiff and motionless. He opens his eyes, to see what it is, and finds a who. 

Iwaizumi has his head pressed to the side of Oikawa’s hip, his hand holding tightly to Oikawa’s wrist, his fingers pressed to Iwaizumi’s lips. Oikawa sinks into the spot he’s in, letting his eyes open wider, waking himself and watching. 

He looks at the clock. 

12:00 pm. 

His side hurts so he turns towards Iwaizumi and tries not to move his hand and lets his eyes slip closed again. His body aches all over but less than before. A nurse moves around the room and he watches her as he drifts off again.

-

-

-

Day 2

When he wakes up next, Iwaizumi isn’t by his side but he can see his mother sitting in a chair at the end of his bed, Iwaizumi is talking to the doctor. Oikawa traces the outline of his back in that one size too small shirt. Oikawa wonder’s if it’s his shirt.

His eyes won't stay shut anymore, his body still aching but his mind, his mind fulling aware of it all now. He hisses as he sits up, pushing on the bed with shaky arms. 

“Tooru!” his mother says and her soft voice almost startles him. 

“Hi Mom,” He says and she rushes to pull his head to her chest and he sinks into the sound of her heart in his ear. 

She’s crying again and he can feel the drops of her tears dampening his hair. The nurse walks in and she lets him go. 

“How are you feeling today?” he asks, his voice sweet as he checks the monitors and bags surrounding Oikawa’s bed. Oikawa smiles and tries to sit up more but winces. 

His mother watches by as his eyes scrunch up in pain, her hands shaking like she doesn’t know how to help, until Iwaizumi steps past her. He presses his hands around Oikawa’s hips. Oikawa looks up into Iwaizumi’s eyes, calmer and more rested than before and grabs onto his shoulders. Iwaizumi lifts his hips up so he can move back on the bed with ease, helping him reposition.  

Oikawa’s mother sighs as Iwaizumi pulls up the blankets and takes a seat next to him, her hand finding a place on his shoulder. She always did love Iwaizumi, Oikawa’s known that for a very long time.

“You’re vitals are looking very good today,” The nurse says and Oikawa looks up at the clock. 

7:00 am. 

Oikawa’s surprised that it’s the next day and he looks around at everyone, Mattsun and Makki back in their chairs sipping coffee, Iwaizumi still in that black band shirt from when he last saw him, and now his mother still teary-eyed.

“I was asleep for that long?” Oikawa asks, and both the nurse and Iwaizumi nod. 

“Don’t worry, It’s normal after surgery, you’re body is in the process of healing so you’ll be extra tired for the next few days and maybe even weeks,” The nurse says and hands him a small cup of water. He takes sip after sip and tries to hold it down the best he can his throat convulsing and moving without him wanting it to. He pushes the cup away to keep from throwing up and some of the water spills over his lips and onto his lap as he coughs and gags on the simple liquid. The nurse takes the cup away and offers up a towel to clean the water and spit that’s now dribbling down his chin and neck. 

“That might happen a few times,” he says with a soft smile. Oikawa looks down, heat spreading from the back of his neck to his cheeks. He wipes away at the drool on his chin and tries to hide by leaning back again in his bed. 

The nurse tells them the doctor will be in soon and leaves Oikawa and his group to their conversation. But as soon as he’s gone, Oikawa can’t find a single word to say. 

“I was—I was talking to the doctor and they said that you could most likely leave in about 7 or 8 days,” Iwaizumi says and tries to sit closer again to Oikawa’s bed, his hand finding his. 

“Oh honey, I was so worried,” His mother speaks in her own conversation, feeling her emotions in the pit of her stomach. 

Her hand digs deeper into Iwaizumi’s shoulder and Oikawa almost giggles as he starts to dip on one side in an attempt to escape. 

“But I’m happy you’re okay now,” and she releases Iwaizumi from her grasp placing that hand over her chest. 

Oikawa swears he was fully rested, but at the same time his bones drag down like he’s made of heavy clay, everything tired of existing. He looks from his mother to Iwaizumi and then to Iwaizumi’s shirt.

“Is that... my band shirt?” Oikawa asks, even his eyes feel lazy, but he’s desperate to stay awake this time, he’s desperate to apologize to Iwaizumi when they’re alone. 

Iwaizumi laughs and looks down at the neon letters on his chest, the shirt tights on his shoulders.  

“It’s Mattsun’s, he brought it for me when I brought you in,” Iwaizumi says and his eyes flicker to Mattsun and Makki now standing in the corner. Makki is trying to juggle a bundle of flowers and his coffee and his jacket before Mattsun realizes and helps. 

“Well it looks nice,” Oikawa whispers and forces a small smile. He can feel the pain medicine drip starting to numb his center and the heat in his chest from Iwaizumi holding his hand starting to fade. His eyes prickle with a couple tears and he holds his breath a little to make them go away. He doesn’t want that warmth to fade, he doesn’t want to go numb. He rather have the pain. 

“I’m gonna go check on your father, he was supposed to be getting some coffee but he’s probably lost as usual,” Oikawa’s mother sighs, and looks as if she hesitates before gathering her sweater and scuttling out the door. 

Oikawa nods, sighs, and leans deeper into his pillows as she leaves, and Iwaizumi squeezes his hand.

“She was very upset when she got here,” Iwaizumi whispers, and Oikawa lets his eyes slip closed and smiles. His body feels tired again. But he can’t fall asleep yet.

“We um...” Makki approaches the bed, hugging the flowers close to his chest, pink peonies and yellow sunflowers brushing up against his chin.

“We brought you flowers,” Makki finishes and sets them on the table next to him facing away, a small card tied to their stems, that’s printed with “get well soon”. 

“Thank you,” Oikawa says and he wants to reach out and touch them, but his arm feels too heavy to move that far, it feels taped to the bed, and he tries to make it shift but it’s as if it’s dead. 

“I um, I can’t move much, but a hug would be great!” Oikawa says and Makki smiles laughing ever so lightly. He stretches out his arms and helps pull Oikawa close to him, rubbing a hand up and down his spine, and squeezing his shoulders like he’s a small child. Oikawa’s always loved Makki’s hugs, they’re strong uncle like hugs that make you feel like you can’t quite breathe but you know are also filled with love. Mattsun on the other hand, is soft and gentle, and presses his palms softly to Oikawa’s back and only comes close enough to whisper in his ear.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” He says and then stands back up, looking down at him. 

“We both are.” 

Oikawa smiles at his best friends and then lets his body relax. He’s happy they came, he’s happy Iwaizumi wasn’t alone in all of this. He’s happy he isn’t alone either.  

“Could you guys maybe give us a moment?” Oikawa asks, and he tries to squeeze Iwaizumi’s hand in return but isn’t quite sure how successful he is. His body still very numb with sleep. 

“Of course,” Makki says and Mattsun reaches out for his hand as they walk through the door. 

Oikawa waits for the door to swing closed on its own and for Makki and Mattsun to turn the corner out of view before he lets any of his emotions overflow onto his face. When they’re alone and Iwaizumi holds tightly to Oikawa’s hand he’s surprised when Oikawa turns to him and begins to cry.

“I’m sorry,” He says, his eyes already tearing up, and Iwaizumi sighs, and almost laughs, and then cries with him. His heart still feels heavy in his chest, and he doubts it will get any lighter until they’ve left this building together. 

“Don’t apologize,” Iwaizumi brings Oikawa’s hand to his lips and again tries to sit closer. He hits his knee on the underside of the bed, a pink bruise already forming from before. 

Oikawa wants to pull his knees to his chest and press himself in the space between Iwaizumi’s arms, but his body won't do as it’s told so instead his legs and arms just shake a little at the thought. 

“I’m sorry,” he can’t find anything more to say, he really can’t find any other reaction than the tears staining his cheeks and his shaking body. 

“Tooru, look at me,” Iwaizumi presses a palm to Oikawa’s cheek and turns his gaze towards him. 

“You’re okay now, and that means I’m okay too,” He whispers, Oikawa wants to lean forward and be as close as possible, he wants a kiss him again because it feels like home to be pressed as close as possible to him. He wants to kiss him until this numbness goes away. But before he can even ask, Iwaizumi is getting up out of his seat.

“I asked Mattsun to bring this for you,” He mumbles and pulls something floppy and purple out of an old wrinkled shopping bag. 

Iwaizumi holds it out for Oikawa, placing it in his lap. A small purple alien plush. Oikawa nearly breaks out laughing. 

He finds the strength to pick the toy up, looking at his dangling loppy face, and his mismatched button eyes, he’s had to sew on over the years. Iwaizumi had won it for him when they were 16, and now he’s held it close when nothing feels right. 

Oikawa hugs the toy to his chest, burying his nose into the top of its head on the stitching Iwaizumi has fixed several times, and feels its warmth all over again, like it’s the first time he’s hugging it.                

“I thought, he would be good to have right now,” Iwaizumi says, sitting down again. 

Oikawa peers at Iwaizumi from over the edge of the toy, and reaches for his hand, Oikawa’s fingers clinging desperately to his. 

“Thank you,” He says and Iwaizumi squeezes his hand in response, 

“Of course,” 

7:45 am. 

The doctor knocks on the edge of the door a bit to announce her arrival, and Oikawa and Iwaizumi both look up with surprise. Iwaizumi smiles and recognizes her blue eyes, they’re no longer sad but tired at the least. 

“Morning,” She says her voice like a drop of honey, and Oikawa and Iwaizumi both smile while trying not to hold their breaths. 

“Morning,” Oikawa mumbles and holds tighter to Iwaizumi’s hand. 

“It’s time to go over your chart, so if you would please—” she makes a motion towards Iwaizumi, 

“I’d like him to stay if he can,” Oikawa interrupts and the doctor pauses and then nods, probably knowing already what he was going to say. 

“Well, Oikawa you gave us quite a scare,” She says and looks at the clipboard in her hand. She flips through the pages.

“Your ruptured appendix caused excess tearing in your bowel, but we were able to repair it, and you’re expected to make a full recovery,” She says and smiles up at them. The air deflates from their lungs, they had already known this, but hearing it from her, from the woman who knows everything to them, makes it even more real. 

“How are you feeling?” She asks and places a hand under a sanitizer dispenser rubbing the lotion over her fingers.

“May I?” and Oikawa nods as she comes closer. 

Iwaizumi steps away from his chair so the doctor can look at Oikawa’s stitchwork and vitals. Her hands lifting up his gown to the large square gauze over his abdomen. Behind the white pad, is a black stitch line of skin sewn together in a moon-shaped line just over his hip bone and curving up towards his chest. She presses down a bit and Oikawa sucks in a breath, and she nods.

“How’s the pain,” She asks and places the gauze back.

“Numbed,” he says and wiggles his fingers, 

“Yes, that’s to be expected, though if you find yourself unable to move let us know,” she says and looks at the numbers on the screen next to his drip. 

“My limbs are a little heavy,” he says and she nods and adjusts the amount of medicine down a bit. Oikawa fixes his robe. 

“Let us know if it doesn't go away,” she says and Oikawa nods. 

“We have you attached to a catheter, so you won't need to use the restroom, but it should be taken out either later today or tomorrow. You’ll need all the rest you can get so sleep as much as you want, and try and drink a little water any time you wake up,” She speaks quickly as she looks at the various machines, and glances at Iwaizumi from time to time, who nods in assurance that he’s also listening and that he’ll help. 

“When the catheter is out we’ll try walking and helping you move through your recovery, and hopefully if all goes well, you can be back home in about a week,” She says with a slap to her clipboard that makes both Oikawa and Iwaizumi jump.

Iwaizumi sighs at her words and Oikawa smiles, excited and praying that he won't stay here past that. 

“A nurse will be in here from time to time to check in on you, if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask,” She says and takes the clipboard as she leaves.

Iwaizumi smiles at Oikawa and makes a move for his hand when,

“Oh and you, if you want to stay we’ll need some paperwork,” She says, and Iwaizumi perks up. Oikawa pushes him to go, nodding. 

Iwaizumi follows her to the desk outside Oikawa’s room and listens as she talks to the nurse behind the desk. 

“He’s gonna need a patient reliability form,” She says to the nurse who nods and pulls one out of a drawer.

“Fill this out, and have Oikawa sign it as well, it’s basically saying that the patient has requested for you to stay past visiting hours,” she says and winks.

Iwaizumi takes the board with the form and pen looking over the various boxes and lines to be filled out. He nods and thanks her as she leaves. 

8:00 am. 

Iwaizumi takes the clipboard back into Oikawa’s room, reading through the page. He’s pretty sure he has Oikawa’s medical card with him, but he’s not entirely sure.

“What’s that?” Oikawa asks as Iwaizumi sits down next to him, and Oikawa tries to lean over to see, but as soon as he does the pain like a poisoned spider’s web shoots across his abdomen.

“Hssss” He gasps and grasps at his side moving back to his original position.

“Careful!” Iwaizumi scolds abandoning the form on the table to grab onto Oikawa. 

“The doctor just said not to move too much,” Iwaizumi helps position him in bed, pulling the blankets up on his waist more. 

“If you need help moving around, ask me,” 

Oikawa sighs and nods then turns his attention back to the mysterious form on the wood board. 

“What’s the form for Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks and Iwaizumi shakes his head. He swears, this man is going to send him to an early grave with worry. 

“It’s a reliability form, I think it’s stating that I’m requested by the patient to remain present and to have all hour access to your room.” 

“Oooo,” Oikawa coos, and tries to peer over the top of the form as Iwaizumi writes out his name at the top. 

“You’ll have to sign it too,” He whispers and continues down the form. 

It’s relatively easy for Iwaizumi to fill out, and by the time the others return Oikawa is signing the bottom to complete it. 

“I’ll go turn this in,” Iwaiuzmi says as the others sit down next to Oikawa’s bed. 

“So what did the doctor say?” Mattsun says taking a sip from his coffee. Oikawa eyes the cheap paper cup, he wants tea.

“To rest, and that we’ll be working up to walking in a little bit.” 

Makki doesn’t look away from the purple alien in Oikawa’s hands in awe that he still has it.

“Where did you get that thing?” Makki asks and looks a bit closer, almost unable to believe it might be the actual alien from that fair.

“Iwa-chan brought it for me, it helps me stay calm and feel at home,” Oikawa says turning the alien around to look at its face. 

“You kept it all these years?” Makki asks and flicks at its limp arm. Oikawa pulls it away from Makki, feeling his actions to be insulting to his alien’s feelings.

“Yes! He’s special, Hajime won him for me at—” 

“—At a fair we know,” Makki and Mattsun almost say in unison and Oikawa’s taken aback.
“How do —”

“Oh please Tooru, we were there with you, you and Iwaizumi were just so in love you didn’t even notice us.” Makki rolls his eyes, but his lips show an amused smile at the memory of how his best friends used to be.
“We weren’t that bad,” Oikawa says,

“Oh come ON, you guys had the most terrible puppy love, you were all over each other when you first got together,” 

“Makki, we were 16,” Oikawa insists, shaking his head and squeezing the alien even tighter to his chest.

“Exactly, you were obsessed with each other, and YOU Tooru, were the most melodramatic bitch 16-year old that I've ever met, dear god,” Makki sits back in his chair laughing. He can still recount the memories of Oikawa pulling him to go shopping for his first date with Iwaizumi, and the hideous shorts he tried to talk Makki into buying and then ended up buying for himself.

“And now look at you two,”  

Iwaizumi walks in just as Makki makes his grand statement and Oikawa looks as if he’s just been damned to hell.

“25 and still in the honeymoon stage,”

“Iwa-chan! Makki and Mattsun are being mean!” Oikawa whines in his best highschool reminiscent voice.

“Oh god,” Iwaizumi says and sits back down in his chair. Oikawa hadn’t made a statement like that, in that tone, in almost 4 years and the sudden relapse was sending him into flashbacks.  

“What truth are they saying now?” Iwaizumi asks and turns to the two guys giggling to themselves over their Oikawa memories.

“MEAN IWA-CHAN!” Oikawa says and hits Iwaizumi on the shoulder with the stuffed toy, but he only laughs, watching Oikawa as he slowly returns to himself. His shoulders lighter, and moving about normally. But then it all fades and his eyebrows scrunch up as a wave of pain licks his abdomen. He clutches the alien and tries to take a deep breath. 

Iwaizumi’s smile falters and he sits closer. 

“Lie back, you should rest,” Iwaizumi says and helps Oikawa sink into the two pillows on his bed. 

“You still, mh, you still need to tell them how we weren’t an annoying couple when we were young,” Oikawa pouts, and Makki snorts, shaking his head. Iwaizumi nods and kisses Oikawa’s forehead. His eyes are still soft, and Iwaizumi’s heart calms when Oikawa looks up at him with them.

“Unfortunately my love we were terribly annoying,”

“You still are,” Makki says and this time both Oikawa and Iwaizumi glare at him, and he shrinks into his chair, closer to Mattsun for protection, a smirk still on his lips. 

“What did I do to deserve this treatment, while I’m in the hospital no less,” Oikawa sighs, playing his new trump card.

“Oh god,” Makki says and Mattsun only tries not to laugh, the sound of his best friends bickering refreshing and reassuring. 

“Okay, Okay, maybe we were a bit annoying,” Oikawa concedes, and Makki once again rolls his eyes and Iwaizumi laughs.

For the morning, all feels normal. 

9:00 am.

-

-

-

By noon Oikawa had fallen asleep again, and Iwaizumi was dozing there by his side, his elbow resting on the bed. Mattsun and Makki had stayed for as long as they could but eventually had to return home. Oikawa’s parents were still hovering but coming and going from the cafeteria. Apparently, they have unusually delicious cake and Bentos.

The nurses come and go from the room, most don’t bother Iwaizumi now that he’s turned in that form and received a name tag with the words “Patient Partner” under his name. He had spent some time while Oikawa dozed off to google this law he hadn’t heard of. It was put in place for relatives and caretakers who weren’t bloodline or law-based, that when a patient seemed to need a person by their side they could request special accommodation. It was also apparently rare for people to request so almost all who ask are accommodated unless medical advice goes against the request. 

Iwaizumi cracks his neck as he tries to find a better position. His body is aching from sleeping in a chair, and his skin has started to itch. He needs to shower, but he can’t convince himself to leave. He sucks in a deep breath and lies his head on his arm, and finds a place for his hand on Oikawa’s thigh. 

One of the nurses had turned out the lights a couple minutes ago, but as Iwaizumi starts to feel heavy with sleep he hears another walk in. 

“There he is again,” she whispers, and another one sighs. They can’t see Iwaizumi’s eyes from where they stand so they don’t see them open, and he tries to remain still out of curiosity. 

They whisper as they check the monitors and numbers on Oikawa’s chart.

“He’s always at the bedside,” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, he sleeps right next to him, has for two days,” 

“Doesn’t he need to shower,”

“Those are the same clothes he had when he came in, I don’t even think he’s eaten,” 

“God, get me a man like that,” the girl whispers, and the other snickers. 

“You want a man who will starve for you?” Iwaizumi can hear the other nurse’s look in her voice and almost laughs but holds it in.

“No! That’s not what I meant, I mean like, someone who loves me so much they don’t want to leave, just a person who cares,” she says, and Iwaizumi smiles, his hand squeezing Oikawa’s thigh a bit thinking about how her words are true. He couldn’t bear to be away right now. He’d be too anxious. 

“Okay, his numbers are fine, you wanna get lunch?” she asks, and Iwaizumi hears the other hum in agreement before they leave, and their footsteps disappear down the hall. When Iwaizumi knows they’re gone he lifts his head and looks from the door to Oikawa but is caught by surprise when Oikawa’s eyes are open. 

“You’re awake,” Iwaizumi asks, and Oikawa nods with a smile. His blinks are long and drawn out, still heavy with sleep but he doesn’t try to move or sit up just sits there and looks at Iwaizumi. 

“Did you—” Oikawa nods again, and Iwaizumi looks away. His cheeks feel red like he’s just been caught doing something embarrassing. But Oikawa just reaches out and takes his hand pulling his eyes back to him.

Iwaizumi smiles and rubs his thumb over Oikawa’s hand. He’s not sure what to say, but Oikawa beats him to it. 

“You should go home,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi is surprised. 

“You need to get some proper sleep, and shower, and eat,” 

“I’ve been eating!” Iwaizumi says quickly, but Oikawa just smiles and shakes his head, his hand growing tighter around Iwaizumi’s.

“Go home, Hajime, just for a bit, so you can take care of yourself,”

“But—”

“No ‘buts’”, I’m gonna keep napping, I probably won't even be awake by the time you get back,” Oikawa tries to reassure Iwaizumi but he can’t seem to insist any harder, because he also doesn’t want Iwaizumi to leave. But Iwaizumi needs to go, just for the afternoon, at least. 

Iwaizumi tries to argue but the itchiness of his skin takes Oikawa’s side as does the feeling in his mouth. He knows he has to leave but he sits for a few moments pouting before he gives into it all. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa smiles, his eyes still droopy. 

“If you wake up before I’m back you can call me, I’ll pick up,” Iwaizumi says and glances at his phone battery, the little symbol at green. 

Oikawa nods and tugs on Iwaizumi’s hand before he lets go. Iwaizumi smiles and leans forward a bit to kiss Oikawa’s forehead. 

“Could you, ah—” Oikawa yawns as he pulls the blankets up, 

“Could you help me reposition before you leave,” Oikawa asks and Iwaizumi nods he can see drowsy tears sit on the edges of his lids. 

“How—”

“Just on my side,” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi slips his hands under Oikawa’s butt and back and lifts. Oikawa rolls to his side as Iwaizumi pushes and lifts relieving a lot of stress in his muscles.

“I’ll be back soon,” Iwaizumi says again and tugs the blankets higher even more and kisses the top of Oikawa’s head.

“Mm,” Oikawa hums and lets his eyes close again his body heavy with a dull weight in his muscles. He places a hand over his bandage to keep it from moving even though he’s been told it’s unlikely and lets his full weight sink into the bed.

Iwaizumi picks up the plastic bag Mattsun had brought their stuff in, and the one the hospital gave him with Oikawa’s dirty clothes. He looks up at the clock in the dark room and barely makes out the hands. 

2:03 pm. 

Each step gets heavier as he walks to the elevator, as he presses the button and waits in the box, as he walks down the hall to the emergency entrance they entered almost 2 days ago. As he digs through the plastic bag for his car keys. His body feels weighed down more and more towards the ground. And as he opens the car door, he looks at the building and has a terrible feeling, because he can’t remember what the view outside Oikawa’s room looks like. He has no idea which window is his, and he hates that.

“Just a quick shower,” He tells himself and sits down in the driver’s seat shifting into gear. It isn’t until he’s started driving that he realizes, the window is still open on Oikawa’s side, and he looks at it and then the empty backseat of the car, not even remembering if there had been anything there before. 

He closes the window and glances at the dashboard clock. 

2:13 pm.

It takes him longer to get back to the house, the day traffic breathing slowly through the exits of the highway. But slowly, achingly he steers his way to the driveway and parks the car. 

He sits in the car and looks at the door to their little house, the mailbox chubby with letters and bills. He doesn’t want to look in the house, because to him, alone it looks too empty and too much like a death scene. 

People often don’t talk about what a house where someone almost died in looks like. They don’t talk about how it still smells the same but now there’s stale blood in the air. They don’t mention how there’s always a sign of life mixed in with the signs of almost death. And they definitely don’t mention how everything has been left exactly as it was when you carried the person you love who almost died in your arms out of the house. No one ever talks about houses where people almost died, because they’re not as sad as death houses, they’re almost sad, they’re almost haunted, but they’re most definitely stale and stagnated with memories and worries like stains in the carpet. That is where death houses and almost death houses are the same. But what’s worse about an almost death house, is your worried it can all repeat itself because the person you love is still here. That’s why almost death houses are worse because they remind you that everything can still fall apart, they leave the living wondering if their almost death house is about to become a completed death house. 

Iwaizumi tries not to look too hard at the bloodstains on their welcome mat or their floor and just starts to take off his shirt and pants on his way up the small staircase. He folds them up and throws them on the bed and decides he’ll wash them later. His skin smells like he’s been left out in the heat too long. 

He finds the bathroom and stops at the door. The floor painted with signs of a struggle and pain with oneself. He looks under the sink for an old rag and soaks it in hot water, then just squirts some hand soap onto the ground rubbing away the blood the best he can with his foot and only looking from the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t want to lose to the worry stored in his almost death house, and he doesn’t want to see the memories in his brain attempting to crawl to the surface. The smell has soaked into the paint though, and he can smell the iron like his house was made of the stuff. 

When the blood is sopped up and the towels and bath mat are thrown in the garbage in the kitchen, and he walks out in his underwear to take it to the corner; Iwaizumi decides he’ll have to wash his body twice and maybe pour a little bleach in the tub so all the smells can replace that of almost death. 

He plans on taking a quick shower but when he’s finally under the hot water he finds that he can’t think of the first thing to do. He stands there for 5 minutes contemplating the calcium buildup in his showerhead, and wondering if he can squeeze it out of the rubber tips like one could a pimple. He tries to picture it, thinks about doing it, but his arms don’t move and before he can decide to leave the showerhead alone he realizes his eyes are closed. 

The steam has started to rise to the ceiling in the bathroom when he finally remembers he should wash his hair and picks up the shampoo bottle Oikawa has been trying to get him to use. He pours an excess amount of soap in his hand then rubs it into his hair falling on his forehead until the soap is practically washing his face as well. He can hear Oikawa in his head, scolding him about how shampoo on his face will make him break out. How it’s terrible for his skin, but since the one he bought Iwaizumi is all-natural, vegan, and locally produced it should be at least a little fine. And Iwaizumi can’t help but smile to himself as the soap washes out.

He scrubs until the smell has rubbed out of his skin, but it still feels like something lingers and he decides it’s probably the worry in his body that can’t seem to be washed out with soap. He stands in the shower until the soapy air scratches at his throat, and the smell of his body wash starts to bother his nose. Then he turns off the water and pulls back the curtain and finds his towel damp in the steam. 

He had planned on taking a quick shower. 

His mouth still feels thick with time, so he brushes his teeth, twice. Then combs out his hair and shaves the shadow on his face that declares to everyone that he’s either sleep deprived or some sort of artist drugged up on coffee.

By the time he’s dressing again, his hair is almost dry and he runs his hand through it to shake it loose. He glances at their alarm clock and then at his phone for the time. 

3:32 pm. 

He picks up Oikawa’s clothes from the bag, and takes them into the washroom, soaking them in the sink before throwing them in the washer. He watches from the window on the washer as the clothes spin and spin and spin around in the water, the blood seeping out from its fibers. He hears Oikawa’s warning he always gives him, 

“ Don’t leave the washer running alone, what if it floods!” And so Iwaizumi sits, watching over it all for a moment. He plays with the lost socks Oikawa’s left behind on the floor, touching the embroidery of little alien heads along the toes. 

When he has watched the washer long enough to get bored, Iwaizumi decides to clean a bit in the house. Shoving the socks he found in the drawer and picking up any other clothes off the ground. He finds little pieces of Oikawa all around the house, and normally he wouldn’t care but today it all feels surreal in a sense that he’s happy. He’s happy to find Oikawa’s mess of clothes he piled up in the corner, or the clothes at the edge of their bed from the last night they had sex. They’re all happy little memories sitting around on their floor and for a moment he smiles as he gets to pick each one up again. 

He dumps the clothes in the hamper and slowly returns the room to the state Oikawa always likes to picture it in. He pulls out an old duffel bag from highschool, Oikawa’s sentimental ass saved, and starts stuffing it with the softest shirts he can find in the drawers. He knows Oikawa will want his own clothes once he can move around. A couple books and chargers. A pair of headphones. Both their toothbrushes, and Oikawa’s soap. A change of clothes for himself. The bag is almost full, and Iwaizumi looks around the room for anything else they might need for the next 6 days. If anything he can come back tomorrow or the next day or whenever Oikawa forces him to come home and shower again. He opens a desk drawer, remembering all the forms he ignored, and rummages through each one for Oikawa’s medical information. When he finds it, he shoves that too in the duffel, the bag bulging a little now. 

When he finally zips up the bag with the necessary and unnecessary items he slings it over his shoulder and looks over the room one more time. It’s clean, but it’s still a little haunted. 

4:00 pm. 

He expects Oikawa to call him while he’s in the car, he holds the phone on his lap so he can pick it up as soon as it vibrates, but it never does. Iwaizumi’s never been the calm partner in their relationship, people always expect him to be serious and stoic because he isn’t frilly and smiley like Oikawa. But he’s never not been the emotional one, especially when he’s with Oikawa. And as he’s gotten older he’s only gotten softer. In rare times of crisis, his anxiety can get away from him, while Oikawa is always sure. 

By the time he reaches the hospital he’s anxious to get back to Oikawa’s room, throwing the bag over his shoulder and locking the car without even looking. He tries to wave to the woman at the desk without actually stopping but she calls him for a name tag. He looks down at his chest when she points it out, remembering how he had had one, but then he realizes it’s still on his shirt at the house, now on the floor. He sighs and nods, waiting for her to spell his name and those words under it, and print it out. And just as she hands it to him he hears something he wishes he hadn’t. 

4:42 pm. 

“Code blue, room 307, code blue,” a voice comes over their heads and Iwaizumi watches down the hall as Oikawa’s doctor with soft blue eye rushes to the elevator and pounds on the keys. He watches as she changes her mind and runs for the stairs and Iwaizumi’s heart drops to his toes. 

He can’t find a single drop of air in his lungs as he snatches the name tag from the woman’s hand and sprints towards the opening elevator doors. No one tries to enter the elevator with him, his frantic pressing of the number 3 scaring them away and a few people start to pray. He left for 2 hours. He was supposed to be sleeping. 

His lungs fall short on every breath and he doesn’t know what to do with his body as he waits on the elevator to move. 307. 307 was Oikawa’s room. He remembered the number, he saw them clearly. Right? Right? 

The doors open and Iwaizumi watches as the nurses and doctors run down the hall, but they’re running to the right and Iwaizumi looks left. His heart still falling in his chest and a stone in his throat choking any hope in his words. 

“Tooru?” He calls, but it’s barely even a whisper and he stumbles over his feet down the hall to where he remembers Oikawa’s room is.

“Tooru?” Iwaizumi gasps. 

His eyes scan over and over across the room, his breath barely finds its way through his lungs. Every one of Iwaizumi’s limbs tremble.  

Oikawa looks up at him from his bed, his room alone and quiet and his father sitting in a chair. Iwaizumi looks from Oikawa to the number on the wall: 302. 

“302,” He whispers as he stares at the numbers. He tries to catch his breath and sets his bag down on one of the chairs. 

“You’re in 302,” he whispers and Oikawa nods following Iwaizumi through the room with his eyes. 

“You’ve always been in 302,” Iwaizumi takes his seat next to the bed and collapses back into it, the air leaving his entire body. 

“Oh thank god,” Iwaizumi’s heart finally starts to find a normal rhythm and his body feels tired again. 

“I heard—I heard the code blue, and freaked out,” Iwaizumi explains and Oikawa sighs, reaching for his hand. 

“Oh babe, I’m fine, I’m still the same as when you left,” Oikawa reassures him and Iwaizumi nods and squeezes Oikawa’s fingers in his hand. 

“We would have called you if anything changed,” Oikawa’s father snarks and looks at Iwaizumi from over the top of the magazine he’s reading. And Iwaizumi can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Yes, I know,” Iwaizumi sighs. 

Iwaizumi rubs a hand over his face trying to wipe away the worry still trapped in his forehead. His chest heavier with relief. Whoever said such a thing made you lighter had never been afraid of something as big as death. 

“How is it that I’m the one in the hospital but you’re the one I’m worried about?” Oikawa whispers. He reaches out with a lonely hand and brushes away at the tufts of hair falling on Iwaizumi’s forehead. His fingertips are soft and brush away, gently, all the rest of the worry Iwaizumi held so closely. He leans into Oikawa’s palm, pressing his lips to the soft center of his hand.

“Ahem,” Oikawa’s father clears his throat, calling them out on their public affection. Iwaizumi lowers his head, pulling his lips away from Oikawa’s hand, but Oikawa’s quick to scold him.

“Don’t,” He says, and Iwaizumi’s not sure who he’s talking to. He looks over his shoulder at his father, his lips pursed in annoyance.

“You know you’re no better with mom, stop being stingy,” he says to his father, and his father starts to pout, pulling the magazine over his eyes. 

“Silly old man,” 

“Don’t call me old Tooru, your old man is perfectly healthy,” 

“Says the man who was just eating his 3rd piece of cake,” 

“And you just called yourself old!” 

“Bah!” Mr.Oikawa turns his head again, and Iwaizumi snickers. Iwaizumi can see the smile on the old man’s face. The Oikawa family has always been a peculiar one, Oikawa’s parents caring but also stupidly silly just like their son. 

“How was home?” Oikawa asks, changing the subject with ease. 

“A mess,” Iwaizumi says as a matter of fact and for a second he thinks Oikawa will sigh and feel upset, but instead he laughs. He laughs from the bottom of his heart, his head thrown back a little and Iwaizumi can swear he can see butterflies fluttering out past his lips, the sound sweeter than he remembers. 

“Did you bring me any gifts?” Oikawa keeps asking happy questions like Iwaizumi had ventured to a small vacation, and in Oikawa’s eyes, Iwaizumi guesses that’s exactly how it feels. 

“Of course,” Iwaizumi whispers. 

He gets up and crosses the room for the bag that sits on the chair next to Mr.Oikawa. 

“What about me? You bring me a gift?” Oikawa’s father looks suspectedly at the bag his lips pursed just like Oikawa does when he’s trying to act cute. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Unfortunately not sir,” He says and Mr.Oikawa nods with a smile that’s almost a laugh.

“That’s okay,” He says and puts down his magazine.

“It’s nice to see you, son,” He calls and opens his arms. Iwaizumi bends over to hug him as he’s always greeted him. 

Oikawa’s mother had come to the hospital first, the night before, and when Mr.Oikawa had arrived Iwaizumi had fallen asleep and wasn’t able to say hello. 

He sets the duffel bag on Oikawa’s lap with a small thump and unzips it so Oikawa can rummage through all the items.

“I knew this bag would come in handy,” Oikawa whispers pulling it closer; the characters of their High School Volleyball team stare at them from the sides. 

His hands dive past the zippers and start emptying out each item. Shirt after shirt, and shorts and face wash and then books. When Oikawa pulls out the books he flips through their pages unfamiliar with some that Iwaizumi has started and familiar with others he’s already halfway finished. He’s meticulous when it comes to books unable to start one without finishing the other but always adding onto his ever-increasing list of ‘must-reads’.

“I thought they’d be a good distraction while we’re here, along with a couple movies in there as well,” Iwaizumi says and continues to watch him as he pulls out the movies and their computer with even more options. Iwaizumi takes the bag off his lap as the bed starts to pile up with more and more items and Oikawa gets distracted reading the back of a movie box.

“Well this should keep us busy for a bit,” Oikawa speaks with a smile that captures his eyes and Iwaizumi sighs when he sees that smile. It’s the kind of smile he was scared he wouldn’t see for a long time, but here it was as bright as ever on Oikawa’s lips somehow at a time like this. 

“Yeah,” He says and for the first time, he actually feels like Oikawa will be okay, that this really is just something that happened to them of all people. 

“Yeah,” he repeats, but Oikawa doesn’t hear the second whisper as he notices how the shirts have started to fall off the other side and lunges to catch them. But when he does he hisses in pain and both Iwaizumi and Mr.Oikawa start to scold him. 

He laughs. He laughs when they scold him and Iwaizumi can’t help but laugh with him. 

6:12 pm. 

Visiting hours end at 7 pm, so Mrs. and Mr.Oikawa spend the last hour huddled around Oikawa’s bed looking at photos on the computer from his and Iwaizumi’s last vacation. And Iwaizumi decides to search for the cafeteria to find some much-needed coffee. 

The hospital bustles with a whispered desperation as doctors and nurses start and stop their shifts and Iwaizumi tries to follow any hint of coffee he can find, any smell or sight of it. 

It takes a bit for him to find the cafeteria despite Mr.Oikawa’s directions of “down the hall and to the left,” but by the time Iwaizumi passes the 3rd left confused he determines that he’s lost. 

“Um excuse me,” He asks a nurse who seems to be walking slowly with her clipboard. 

“Yes?...” She says and he sees her eyes wander suddenly from his face quickly down his body and then back to his eyes. 

“I’m, um, looking for the cafeteria?” He asks and feels his cheek heat up a little.

“Oh yes, well it’s down that hall and around the corner and just over the little glass bridge,” she says and Iwaizumi bows before she can say anything else, thanking her. 

He follows her directions looking right and left until he spots something remotely food or drink related. The cafe is tucked away at the edge of the building with a curved window that spans its length. You can see the small houses in the distance and the city skyline of the Miyagi prefecture. 

Iwaizumi orders his coffee and a muffin before taking a small seat by the window. He tries to figure out if he can see their house from where he sits. His coffee is sweet and burns his tongue as he sips on it, but he doesn’t flinch and keeps looking at the houses. 

The houses have brown and white roofs and are overtaken by the shadows of the skyscrapers beyond them the sun casting its light through the glass windows of the tall mosaic buildings. Iwaizumi takes another sip and yawns. It’s sunset and the orange orb has started to sink into the clouds around it, disappearing behind the horizon. Iwaizumi leans his chin on his palm, enjoying the view. He doesn’t get to see sunsets like this very often, his office faces the opposite direction, and their house is covered by a canopy of trees that tend to block out the sun. He’s almost forgotten how brightly it can shine when the air is clear. 

Iwaizumi takes a bite of his muffin, chocolate too sweet for his taste, but he eats it anyway, knowing he can’t pass it to Oikawa this time and doesn’t want to waste food. Oikawa would enjoy this view , he thinks and takes another bite. 

Oikawa has always loved sunsets, he used to call Iwaizumi whenever he was watching one or take pictures and send them to him. He used to say he loved them for their color, but Iwaizumi always wondered if there was something else when they were young. It wasn’t until they moved in with each other that Oikawa finally told him. 

Iwaizumi takes another sip, his coffee is getting cold faster than he expected. 

“It’s not just the colors,” he says, and he pulls another clump of grass up with his fist and releases it on the wind. They were moving to a new part of town tomorrow, and this would probably be one of their last moments on their favorite hill for a while. Oikawa had asked if they could watch the sunset one last time. 

“Then what is it?” Iwaizumi asks and Oikawa leans back into Iwaizumi’s chest, his arms resting on Iwaizumi’s thighs. 

“It’s a lot of things,” he says, 

“the time, the warmth...” he says and Iwaizumi’s brow scrunches up in confusion. 

“The time of day?” he asks and Oikawa shakes his head. 

The sun was almost behind the edge of the world now and Oikawa was taking every moment he could, to think of the best way to explain it. 

“Sunsets are like love,” he says and Iwaizumi looks up at the sun. 

“Ephemeral and often taken for granted,” he whispers. He pulls up more grass. 

“I’m not sure I get it?” Iwaizumi says feeling denser than ever but Oikawa doesn’t respond right away. 

“When did you get so deep,” Iwaizumi teases and shakes Oikawa by the shoulders and he laughs reaching up to hold onto Iwaizumi’s hand. He leans against him again and Iwaizumi can feel Oikawa’s heartbeat through his back. It’s racing. 

“Sunsets remind me of you, they remind me to love you,” he whispers, and Iwaizumi almost doesn’t hear him, his voice soft and floating away with the grass in the wind. He bends his head down closer to hear more. 

“... they remind me of how warm you are...” he hears him say, but he’s not certain it’s what he actually says. He wants to ask again but Oikawa turns around before he can, his smile fluttering from his lips to Iwaizumi’s as he comes closer for a kiss. He pushes him back until they’re lying in the grass, Oikawa’s palms are on Iwaizumi’s neck. Iwaizumi’s chest pressed to his. Oikawa can feel Iwaizumi’s heartbeat.  

It’s racing. 

Iwaizumi still thinks about those words when he glimpses the sunsets now, still trying to understand what Oikawa meant by that. 

“Sunsets are like love,” he whispers to himself and a woman at another table turns to look at him. When he doesn’t return her gaze she looks down at her watch and gets up. 

Iwaizumi looks down at his phone. 

6:50 pm. 

He takes one last sip of his coffee before throwing the rest of it away. He considers ordering Oikawa a green tea but then he remembers he probably can’t drink it yet. But as he turns away from the counter he sees the flower cart in the corner. The colors are explosive to the eye, sprouting rainbows in every spot as Iwaizumi walks closer. He looks at a few buds of sunflowers and remembers the flowers Makki and Mattsun had given Oikawa, now in a vase at his bedside. Iwaizumi looks down at his phone one more time, Oikawa’s smile flashing up again.  

A few of the nurses stop and ask him if he needs help on his way back to Oikawa’s room, a few of them point and whisper. Iwaizumi wonders if he’s become a rumor among the nurses like in those doctor shows Oikawa watches, the man who sleeps next to his lover’s bed. He wouldn’t mind that rumor much.  

When he rounds the corner to Oikawa’s room again, the curtain is being pulled shut by a nurse and Oikawa is untying the strings on his gown. The door has been locked and doesn’t open when he wiggles the knob. 

“Are you Iwaizumi, by any chance?” a nurse asks him and Iwaizumi nods the worry starting to build.

“Yeah, do you know what’s happ—” he tries to sound calm, tries to feel calm. 

“Yeah, he’s just having his catheter and IV drip removed,” she says and motions for the seat outside the door for him to sit in.

“They’ll be finished in a couple of moments, then you can go in,” she says and he takes a seat shuffling the flowers in his arms.

“Did you buy those for him?” she asks and Iwaizumi looks down at the flowers and then blushes. She takes the seat next to him and he feels like a light is being shone on him his ears starting to burn. He picks at the rubber band wrapped around the flower stems. She’s watching him and for a moment he’s not sure why and then he realizes he hasn’t responded. 

“Uh— yes, m,” he stumbles and she smiles. He expects her to leave when he doesn’t strike a conversation and they sit there for 2 minutes in silence, but she doesn’t. She sits there, amongst the quiet of after visiting hours, waiting with him. Iwaizumi’s about to say something to her when the door opens. 

“Okay, you can come in now,” a voice comes to both of them from the door, and a face looks down at them. 

Iwaizumi stands and walks around the glass wall as quickly as he can without looking like he’s a desperate man. He stops short when he sees Oikawa. He’s shifting in his bed, looking under the covers where the straps of the catheter were probably taped to his thigh. Iwaizumi had felt that same worry as when he had heard that code, but again he’s proven wrong by Oikawa in how ‘Okay’ he really is. 

“Ahem,” Iwaizumi says and he can hear the nurses whispering around the corner, the other one having pulled them away for a moment. 

Oikawa looks up at Iwaizumi and lets the covers drop quickly pressing his hands into his lap. His ears turn bright pink and Iwaizumi almost laughs. He had been looking at more than just his thigh, Iwaizumi presumes. Oikawa avoids eye contact and looks down at the flowers. 

“Are those for me, by any chance?” He asks and Iwaizumi takes a few steps closer. The moment is as uneasy as if he’s confessing for the first time all over again and Iwaizumi can’t figure out why. But Oikawa’s cheeks seem to glow and his hair sinks down over his forehead and ears, the grease of the past couple days weighing it down. 

“I felt bad that Mattsun and Makki were the only ones giving you flowers,” He says and places them down on Oikawa’s lap. Iwaizumi can still hear the nurses giggling and he smiles. 

Oikawa plucks at the petals of the flowers. They’re light teal and pink flowers with hints of baby’s breath, something strangely familiar. Oikawa holds them up to his nose and breathes them in all he can. 

“Why do they—” But Iwaizumi’s already pulling out his phone, the photo lighting up his screen, and Oikawa remembers where he’s seen these flowers before. In the photo, Oikawa wears a flower crown of almost the exact same colored flowers.

“How’d—” 

“I customized it, a little” he whispers and leans his arms on Oikawa’s bed wondering and hoping to get a kiss if he sits close enough. Oikawa hugs the flowers a little longer before he sets them on the side table with the others. 

“Thank you,” He whispers and turns to Iwaizumi. He places his fingers under the edge of Iwaizumi’s jaw and lifts his head to kiss him and for a moment Iwaizumi forgets they aren’t alone. For a moment he forgets the sound of the nurses giggling around the corner. But just as Oikawa’s lips brush his, he hears them again, there, and then in the room interrupting. 

“Sorry to interrupt boys, but it’s time for Oikawa to take his first shower,” The older nurse says and rubs her hands with sanitizing lotion. Iwaizumi sits up, away from Oikawa nodding. His cheeks are warm. 

“If you can wait outside,” the nurse tries to ask, but Oikawa reaches for Iwaizumi’s arm before he can leave.  

“Can he um, can he actually stay,” Oikawa asks and the nurse pauses and looks from Iwaizumi to Oikawa and deflates a little as she nods. 

“Come on, we gotta get you up now,” She says and reaches for Oikawa’s hands but as soon as he takes them she almost falls forward and he lets go. 

“Um,” Iwaizumi tries to intervene, and Oikawa is already thinking the same thing. 

“Maybe I could help,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa takes Iwaizumi’s hand. 

The nurses step back as Iwaizumi takes Oikawa’s hand and puts it on his shoulder. Oikawa slides his legs over the edge of the bed and wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck for support. Like he’s done a thousand times before Iwaizumi with a single breath lifts Oikawa until he’s standing on the floor and leaning into Iwaizumi’s frame. 

“I’ll get the water started,” one nurse says, and Iwaizumi moves to Oikawa’s side and slides an arm around him. 

“You seem like you’ve done this before?” The older nurse says and Iwaizumi glances at her and smiles.

“I um, I studied to be a nurse for a bit,” Iwaizumi admits and her face almost shows her surprise before she suppresses it at the last second.

“Well, I guess you can guess what I’m going to explain,” 

“Uhah, maybe,” Iwaizumi chuckles. 

They take soft and steady steps towards the bath as Oikawa moves slowly against the pain in his side. The nurse explains how to shower, and both Iwaizumi and Oikawa listen and nod with each statement.

“So we won’t be in there with you, but we will show you how the shower works and help you tape up your incision for the moment,” she says and Oikawa’s nails dig into Iwaizumi’s shoulder as they take a large step. 

“And—n— will I— will I have to cover it every time?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi stops at the door to the bathroom, letting Oikawa rest on the frame. 

“No, just this time; it’s only been about 36 hours and the doctor doesn’t want to expose it to water until tomorrow or after,” she says and Oikawa nods, the thought of just waiting for tomorrow to shower crossing his mind and then the desire to shower now crushing it before he can fully consider. 

The sound of the soft rushing water is sweet to Oiakwa’s ears and he’s desperate to feel it run on his body. He knows he was probably cleaned just before surgery the best he could have been, but ever since he’s woken up he’s felt like he could still feel a film of his own sickness on his skin, under his nails like a rotting secret. He’s ready to be clean again. 

He unties his gown on one side and let the nurses tape up the stitches with what seems like sticky plastic wrap on his skin. When they’re done Oikawa lowers his dress and presses a few fingers to his side. 

“If you need us, call us, we’ll be at the station,” the younger nurse says and Iwaizumi nods as she closes the door behind her. 

The bathroom is fairly easy to move around in, the two of them orbiting each other as Oikawa unties the strings on his gown and Iwaizumi feels the water to make sure the temperature isn’t too hot. 

“Did you bring my shampoo?” Oikawa asks and Iwaizumi nods leaving for just a moment to retrieve the bag. Oikawa takes a seat on the toilet the muscles in his legs tired already, and his side aching like a dull scream.  

“Ready?” Iwaizumi asks setting the bottles in the shower for him and the bag by the sink by the door under the light switch. When he turns around Oikawa’s grown is on the floor and Oikawa’s head is bent forward looking at his wound through the plastic. He pokes it a few times more and Iwaizumi steps closer. 

“Ready, nurse Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers when their eyes meet and Iwaizumi almost laughs but pulls himself together just in time with an eye roll. 

“Come on,” he mumbles and takes Oikawa’s hand. 

He helps him step into the tub and sit down on the stool. He pulls the showerhead loose from the wall and slowly starts to let it drip over Oikawa’s back. Oikawa pours a bit of body soap in his hand and starts to wash up and down his arms. He lifts a hand and Iwaizumi slides his fingers over the curves of Oikawa’s palm scooping up any leftover soap. He smooths his hand over Oikawa’s back and avoids the edges of the plastic covering his wound. Iwaizumi washes all down Oikawa’s back counting his beauty marks like he does after sex. And Oikawa shivers as he’s touched by both Iwaizumi and the cold air of their silence.

A part of Oikawa wishes they had music, a part of him wishes he could enjoy this, but the ache in his side distracts him every time he’s about to. As Iwaizumi rinses the water over his shoulders Oikawa holds a hand to his side. He wonders how big the scar will be, how deep. But just as though he can hear his thoughts Iwaizumi streams the water over Oikawa’s head and his hair is pushed flat into his face.

“You’re so quiet down there,” He whispers and runs a hand through Oikawa’s hair. He pours soap that smells like oranges into it and starts to rub. 

“Keep your eyes closed,” he warns and Oikawa sits up straight as he closes them, feeling Iwaizumi’s hand on his head. He feels like a child again, being coddled in warm water, but instead of his mother, it’s Iwaizumi, and instead of Iwaizumi laughing with him, there’s just silence. 

“It’s too quiet,” Oikawa whispers and opens his eyes a little, blinking. Iwaizumi’s fingers are strong on his head but as soon as he says anything the pressure lightens and then disappears. Oikawa keeps his eyes closed but turns his head to look for Iwaizumi and almost falls off his stool in the process. 

“Stay put, I’ll be right back,” Iwaizumi’s voice says and Oikawa points his head in the direction it’s coming from. 

Iwaizumi wipes his hands on a towel before stepping out of the tub. Oikawa’s phone is in the bag under the sink, and he pulls it out, typing in the code Oikawa keeps changing and he keeps guessing. In a moment Iwaizumi presses play on a playlist they’ll both love, the one titled “Sunsets” and sits the phone on the edge of the sink.

The first song starts softly and Oikawa relaxes when it starts to play, his shoulders sinking back a little. He holds tight to the edge of his stool as he tips himself back. And just when he thinks he might fall he feels Iwaizumi’s hands hold him up. 

His eyes are still closed but Oikawa looks up at Iwaizumi with a smile regardless, his hair wet and full of bubbles dripping onto his feet. Iwaizumi wipes away the soap from Oikawa’s face so he can open his eyes. 

“Nurse, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa sings to the tune of the song and laughs almost falling back but Iwaizumi catches him. 

“See that name was exactly why I didn’t become a nurse,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa laughs even louder. 

“Close your mouth, stupid,” 

“huu, mean Iwa-chan,” Oikawa gasps but does as he’s told as Iwaizumi rinses the soap from his hair and face. The song changes as Iwaizumi puts a dollop of conditioner in Oikawa’s hair and massages it in and Oikawa nearly starts to scold him when he’s about to rinse it out too early. He goes on for five minutes about the proper hair care routine and how he gets his hair to be perfectly soft and fluffy and Iwaizumi digs around in the duffel for the razors he brought. He hums to show he’s listening.

“I’m serious Iwa-chan, proper hair care is a valuable skill,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi nods as he pulls up another stool in front of Oikawa.

“You’re living proof,” Iwaizumi says and lays a towel over his knee, and squeezes a little shaving cream into his hand. 

“But most people, especially men think they don’t need to pay attention to their hair,” 

“Mmhmm,” Iwaizumi hums and presses his creamy palm to Oikawa’s cheek wiping at the stubble that’s formed.

“But they do, woben are the twue geniuses,” Oikawa mumbles through the white cream on his face, trying not to get it in his mouth.

“You’re absolutely right Tooru,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa moves his head back just as the blades come towards him, he wipes the cream from his lips. 

“I know you’re just saying that, you’re not actually listening,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi grabs his cheeks in one hand, his lips pursing and pouting, squished between Iwaizumi’s fingers. 

“Will you let me shave your face? Or do you just want to keep the stubble I know you hate,” 

“Iwaw-chaan” Oikawa pouts and Iwaizumi lets go, smearing the cream over his lips entirely. He lifts the razor again and presses gently into the side of Oiakwa’s cheek.

“You know I can shave my self,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi smiles as he creates more streaks in the white cream on his face.

“I know,” He whispers and finishes one cheek with one side of the razor then goes over the spots again with the single blade. Oikawa tries to stay still while Iwaizumi has a blade to his face but every time they make eye contact Oikawa can feel his cheeks flush and warm and he wonders if Iwaizumi can see it on his face too. He tilts Oikawa’s head back and wipes away the excess cream, his neck and face soft and almost spotless again. 

“There,” Iwaizumi says and presses a palm to Oikawa’s cheek. 

“You know you’d probably look hot with a beard,” Iwaizumi says as he puts away the razor and cream. Oikawa rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t like it, it’s itchy and eh—” Oikawa shrugs and Iwaizumi smiles, it’s always the same argument. When anyone tells him that, it’s always the same answer. 

“You, however, I love with stubble,” Oikawa says and tries to turn on his stool to look at Iwaizumi but Iwaizumi stops him, and pushes his knees back to face the wall.

“I still gotta rinse your hair dummy,” Iwaizumi whispers and Oikawa pouts. 

The song changes again, and the air is filled with a somber voice and Oikawa closes his eyes as Iwaizumi’s hand runs through his hair again. The water is warm on his skin, and Iwaizumi’s hands are rough but gentle and Oikawa wishes he could sink into them. 

He breathes in with a deep sigh and leans back against Iwaizumi. The song is a sad song about a boy who loses the girl he loves and Oikawa pictures the story like a video in his head. The sound of his sadness beautiful when sung by a smooth voice. Oikawa knows what playlist Iwaizumi clicked on, and he pictures the moments all the songs make him think of. Oikawa wonders why he picked this playlist.  

“Stand up,” Iwaizumi’s voice makes him jump and sit up, he had been sinking into the song. Oikawa reaches for the support rail and hoists himself up. Iwaizumi presses on Oikawa’s shoulder for him to turn. Iwaizumi steps out of the tub and rinses his head and face and chest one more time before turning off the water. The song is still sad. 

Oikawa made the playlist when Iwaizumi and he had lived apart during university. These were the songs that made him think of him, they were the songs that made him picture the sunsets he watched with Iwaizumi. They’re the songs that make him feel warm. 

Iwaizumi places a towel over Oikawa’s head and starts to rub and Oikawa watches Iwaizumi’s eyes flicker back and forth and up and down. His green cool eyes, and when Iwaizumi catches him staring Oikawa almost looks away, he almost turns his head and misses how those eyes glint when he smiles at him. Oikawa’s side hurts a little and he holds it with his hand but it’s duller when Iwaizumi looks at him. It’s duller when he touches him. 

“Tell me you love me,” Oikawa whispers and his voice cracks on the word ‘love’. 

Iwaizumi’s movements slow to a stop and he looks into Oikawa’s eyes. 

“What?” Iwaizumi only asks because he’s unsure if he heard him right, because he can’t think of why Oikawa would say what he thinks Oikawa did say.

“Tell me you love me,” Oikawa almost poses it as a question this time, and his face grows softer and closer. He holds onto the towel still placed on his head. He doesn’t look away.  

“I love you Tooru,” Iwaizumi whispers, and his entire body heats up with the words as he whispers them in their small space among the steam. 

“I love you more than life,” Iwaizumi whispers again and his hands fall to Oikawa’s shoulders. They hold him with a strength that can only be felt with love as his fingers pinch white little patches into his warm pink skin. 

“I love you,” Once he’s said it Iwaizumi can’t seem to stop, the words dripping from his lips like some sort of revelation he’s already had but never gets tired of. 

Oikawa nods and his hands shake when he pulls on the towel. 

“Okay,” he whispers and his hands find their place on the curve of Iwaizumi’s chest, against the threads of his black shirt. Oikawa can feel his heart through his chest and he balls up his fists, he tangles his fingers in the fabric. And nods again. 

“Okay,” he whispers and Iwaizumi’s arms tighten around him, shrinking the space between them. 

“Did you doubt that?” Iwaizumi asks and Oikawa shrinks into Iwaizumi’s frame pulling him closer, even though he’s already so close Oikawa can smell his aftershave. 

“No... no,” he whispers. He wants to try and explain what just happened but all he can think about is how close Iwaizumi is, and how much he wants to hear him say those little words again. 

“Okay,” Iwaizumi says, and he rubs his hands along Oikawa’s arms. 

Iwaizumi takes the towel from Oikawa’s head as Oikawa leans his weight on him more. He pets the towel over Oikawa’s shoulders and arms and crosses his chest slowly moving down until the droplets on his body have disappeared. Oikawa’s hands follow Iwaizumi as he moves, from his chest to his shoulders to fingers in his soft black hair. Oikawa leans and Iwaizumi supports until they’re back at the beginning and Oikawa can feel Iwaizumi’s heartbeat on his palm. It’s steady and Oikawa swears he could be absorbed in that feeling, that feeling of his heart in his chest, warm and thumping like it’s for him. What a selfish thought he tells himself every time, but somehow he can’t convince himself it’s not true. 

“Tooru?” Iwaizumi presses his name into the air and Oikawa finds his eyes again. 

“Tooru, what’s wrong!?” Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa’s elbow and lets the towel fall to the floor. Iwaizumi’s thumb comes to Oikawa’s cheek and smears a tear away. 

Oikawa’s hand quickly reaches up to his face and all at once he feels the sting in his nose and in the corners of his eyes. He’s crying.

“Oh,” he whispers and Iwaizumi bows his head trying to follow Oikawa’s eyes as he looks away.

“Tooru, what’s wrong? You were giggling before, and now you’re crying,” Iwaizumi whispers and anchors his hand in the crook between Oikawa’s shoulder and neck squeezing to get him to look up.

Oikawa rubs and rubs at the tears as they bubble over onto his cheeks and he sniffs. He can’t stop.

“I just, Ia—I” his voice cracks and he bites his lips his face scrunching up like he’s a child. He wants to laugh and then he wants to sob.  

“I just love you,” he gasps and Iwaizumi takes a step back.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t” Oikawa wipes furiously at his eyes. They won’t stop coming he can barely breathe.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi says and without another thought pulls Oikawa between his arms.

“I just, I put you through all this, and now you’re here, and you’re bathing me, and I’m just broken, and I’m sorry, you have to—” 

“Hey—”

“I’m sorry,” 

“Hey stop,”

“I’m sorry,”

“Stop apologizing Tooru!” Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa’s face and lifts it until their eyes meet and Oikawa can see him through his tears. 

“Tooru...” Iwaizumi whispers. He wipes away another tear and Oikawa’s face feels sticky and hot. 

“Tooru... Tooru, I’ll always be here,” Iwaizumi whispers and Oikawa’s lips fall open to find words in the air but close when it’s empty.

“I’ve been catching you since primary school, Tooru, in high school, in university, now? I’ve always caught you when you fell,”

“And if I haven’t gotten tired yet, I don’t think I ever will,” Iwaizumi’s words breathe air into Oikawa’s lungs and he pulls tighter on the hem of Iwaizumi’s shirt.

“This is what love looks like,” Iwaizumi says and his hands loosen on his cheeks. Oikawa closes his eyes and leans into Iwaizumi’s hand. 

“I love you,” Oikawa whispers and he feels Iwaizumi’s forehead press against his. He can smell him.  

“I know,”

Iwaizumi doesn’t let go until Oikawa’s tears have dried in their paths on his cheeks and when he does Oikawa finds himself holding tighter to Iwaizumi’s shirt. His muscles are tight on his bones, and his body shakes from the air pressing up against him 

“Let's get you dressed, you’re shivering,” Iwaizumi whispers, and again tugs Oikawa’s hands loose from his shirt. 

He pulls out a pair of alien pajama shorts and a soft yellow shirt from their duffel bag and Oikawa giggles to himself when he sees them. Iwaizumi puts them on the toilet cover as he kneels and Oikawa bends to pick them up. He remembered his favorite mixed matched pair. 

Iwaizumi peels back the plastic covering on his stomach and wipes away the bits of glue that still linger. He helps Oikawa step into the shorts and is careful not to brush his incision while pulling the shirt down and Oikawa gets flashes of home when the scent of their bedroom lingers in the clothes. Somehow the clothes feel warm on Oikawa’s body and he wraps his arms around himself feeling the thin fabric smooth over his skin. 

“Comfy?” Iwaizumi asks and Oikawa nods as Iwaizumi holds his hand, leading him out of the bathroom. 

Oikawa hadn’t realized how warm the bathroom was, and how cold the hospital room is. But as soon as he steps into the room the air is colder, in his lungs, on his skin, even the floor now feels like ice under his toes. Shivers run wild up his spine and he bunches his shoulders in an attempt to retreat back into any warmth he has. 

He takes small steady steps until he reaches the bed and Iwaizumi tucks him under the blanket. Oikawa glances at the clock, his body tired but his mind not daring to consider sleep. 

8:15 pm. 

“Read me something?” Oikawa asks and Iwaizumi stops, blinking. 

Like the flip of a coin, Iwaizumi knows Oikawa wants to forget how fragile he is wants to tease and be teased, but most of all Iwaizumi knows Oikawa doesn’t want him to leave. He nods and thinks about that book he packed in the corner of their duffel bag. That secret book Oikawa isn’t thinking about. 

Iwaizumi drags the duffel over to Oikawa’s bed and shuffles the contents around for the pink and white book with the girl and the hearts and as soon as he finds it and pulls it out Oikawa makes a sound. Iwaizumi had thought about what his eyes would look like when he first pulled the book out, what Oikawa’s lips might say or do; if he’d sigh or groan, or gasp, but what happens is better than them all. When Oikawa sees the book, he laughs. And Iwaizumi can’t help but grin and pull his chair closer. 

“I cannot believe you brought that,” Oikawa whispers and takes the shoujo manga from Iwaizumi’s hands flipping it open. There’s a bookmark where he had stopped reading but in all honesty, Oikawa doesn’t even remember what’s happened so far. 

“Of course I brought it, you wanna finish it don’t you?” Iwaizumi says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh nooo, if Mattsun and Makki see that I will never be able to live it down,” Oikawa scrunches up his face against his pillow, turning on his side and pulling the blanket up over his face, hiding. Iwaizumi laughs as he picks up the book from the bed and opens it to the marked page.

“Start—” Oikawa says and stops Iwaizumi to reading,

“Start from the beginning,” He says and Oikawa’s voice is small coming from under the blankets but Iwaizumi smiles and nods even as he can’t see him and flips the pages to the beginning. 

The story follows the basic plotline of any shoujo manga, a romance between a girl and a boy who’s said to be out of her league and is adored by all the other girls, and in this case Oikawa too. It’s the fifth volume and Iwaizumi’s only really read the first one over Oikawa’s shoulder when he couldn’t sleep one night. Oikawa finds the time to read each volume when Iwaizumi has gone to bed and he sits with a flashlight and reads like he used to in high school. 

Iwaizumi is thoroughly lost in the story and wonders why it’s already Christmas when he thought it was spring in the first volume, but the more he reads the more Oikawa comes out from behind his blankets and leans closer to see the images.

Iwaizumi sits in the chair at the edge of Oikawa’s bed, close enough that he can smell his shampoo in his hair, already almost dry. Their shoulders brush and Oikawa’s hand finds a way around Iwaizumi’s arm and his fingers play with the spaces between Iwaizumi’s fingers. Iwaizumi continues to read the more and more obnoxious text, the dramatics starting to get to him, and then—

“Senpai?” He says in the highest voice he can manage, and he feels Oikawa stop breathing next to him, and then in one swift motion fall into his pillow and start to cry of laughter. 

“What was that?” Oikawa gasps for breath and Iwaizumi can’t stop laughing long enough to answer, he tries to just keep reading, his voice high pitched as he imagines the protagonist's voice to be, and Oikawa doesn’t even bother to look at the book, but rolls so his nose squishes into Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“Your girly voice is horrendous,” Oikawa says and rubs his forehead into Iwaizumi’s arm. 

“Well I’m trying to make it interesting, they’re all so overly dramatic,” 

“That’s supposed to be interesting enough,” Oikawa laughs and Iwaizumi’s cheeks start to hurt from his smile. 

Oikawa sinks in closer to Iwaizumi as he continues to read and make absurd voices for each of the characters. But by the time they reach the end of the volume, Oikawa’s head is falling off of Iwaizumi’s shoulder and his eyes are heavier than his interest in the story. 

Iwaizumi closes the book and sets it down on the table. He brushes the hair out of Oikawa’s face and runs his thumb over Oikawa’s cheek. He bends to kiss the top of his head, but just as he does Oikawa shifts and looks up at him. 

“You’re tired,” Iwaizumi whispers and fondles for the remote to the bed, lowering it to be flat. 

“Sleep,” he tells him and Oikawa blinks at him, and blink again as he rolls onto his side. 

“Don’t leave,” He says even as Iwaizumi just sits there. Oikawa reaches for his hand and pulls it up to his cheek.

“I’m right here,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa’s eyes feel even heavier.

“I love you,” He whispers and Iwaizumi’s face warms up. 

“I love you too,” He whispers and watches as Oikawa’s lips twitch up into a smile. He sinks into the bed and watches Iwaizumi with lazy eyes. 

“Can I have a kiss,” Oikawa whispers finally and Iwaizumi sighs as he nods. It’s a big thing to kiss Oikawa’s lips, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he never seems to want to stop. 

He leans down as Oikawa looks up, and holds his breath as he presses his lips to Oikawa’s. They’re chapped and the skin’s a little broken, and Iwaizumi swears there’s still the taste of Oikawa’s tears lingering in their cracks. He kisses him gently at first and then falls forward into it, pulling and nipping at Oikawa’s lips as Oikawa’s fingers find the hair at the back of his head to pull on. 

When Iwaizumi pulls away he’s almost out of breath from the pure addiction to those lips, and Oikawa’s fingers trace Iwaizumi’s jawline before falling back onto the bed. Iwaizumi glances at the clock, 

9:45 pm. 

He rests his head next to Oikawa’s lap and watches as Oikawa’s deep breaths turn into a steady rhythm of dreamless sleep.

This bed, between them. And the cut on Oikawa’s side. It’s starving them of each other.  

-

-

- 

Oikawa turns and the pain in his stomach aches with each breath like a dagger thrust through his muscles. He hisses and tries to sit up and move and change anything to make it go away. The bed is tough and springless, and he sinks into it like it’s trying to eat him whole through paralysis. His bones feel stiff, and his muscles tense. 

Oikawa pulls on the sheets to make himself sit up, and the pain in his side spikes like needles on a drum, bouncing around beneath his skin. His hands shake and he gasps out until he’s fully up. The darkness is like a fog around him, the curtains pulled closed, and the only light filtering in from under them from the hospital still alive on the other side. Oikawa tries to look around him despite the darkness and slowly his eyes adjust. He reaches for his little cup of water by his bed, sips at it. As he does he realizes he really needs to pee. 

He shuffles the blankets over his legs and when he does he finds the blankets stuck under Iwaizumi’s arms and head. Iwaizumi’s snoring is soft and gruff and Oikawa reaches out to brush the tips of his fingers to the soft edges of Iwaizumi’s hair. Iwaizumi moans when he feels Oikawa’s touch but his eyes stay closed and his snoring continues. 

Oikawa slides out of bed as slow as he can, to not feel the pain anymore than he has to, and when his toes touch the vinyl floors a shiver reaches up to his knee. He holds his shoulders and shuffles over the floor wishing he had his fuzzy socks to sleep in. His body won't move as fast as he’d like and the muscles twitch with each movement, begging him to stop. Oikawa gasps a little and leans on the end of his bed to catch his breath. His feet stumble, and his knees shake. Oikawa wraps an arm around his torso and leans the rest of his body weight on the rail. A groan escapes his lips with his breath. 

Iwaizumi rolls his head and his eyes twitch open. The darkness is everywhere at first and then his eyes focus and Tooru is standing in what Iwaizumi thinks is a dream until he hears him gasp.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi whispers and pushes back on his chair as he gets up padding over on the cold floor to Oikawa’s side. He takes Oikawa’s hand and lets him lean his weight onto him.

“What are you doing?” Iwaizumi asks and slips a hand under Oikawa’s arm to support him.                        

“I needed to pee,” Oikawa whispers and Iwaizumi’s face relaxes with a sigh. 

“Well you should have woken me up,” Iwaizumi says but he sees the reservation in Oikawa’s face even through the darkness of the room. 

“You seemed so peaceful,” Oikawa says and holds tighter to Iwaizumi as he’s wrapped up in his arms, leaning on his frame.

They make their way to the bathroom where Iwaizumi leaves Oikawa leaning on the sink by the toilet and closes the door behind him. He leans against the wall and waits for Oikawa’s voice or the door to open. He tries to focus on the clock. But the hands are blurry in this darkness of theirs. He’s too tired to try any harder to see. 

The door opens and Iwaizumi pushes off the wall. Oikawa takes his arm and leans into him but when they reach the bed he doesn’t want to get into it. He doesn’t want it to take him, he’s restless and his body aches. 

Iwaizumi stands with Oikawa, waiting for him to turn, for him to ask for help. But he just stands there, shifting from one foot to the other. Iwaizumi’s arms are heavy with sleep still, and he adjusts them and readjusts them around Oikawa as they stand there. They just stand there. 

Oikawa looks at the bed. The hospital isn’t bustling anymore like during the day. The lights are on, but the entire building seems to be consumed by a whisper. Even the nurses, he can hear, laugh with hushed enthusiasm at their station. The building seems to also be hesitating until morning. They’re all just standing there. 

“Can we go for a walk?” Oikawa asks, and his hand starts to shake. It’s cold. 

Iwaizumi’s head nods with the weight of the moon outside their window. He changes his position. Forearm over forearm holding Oikawa up. They take small steps. Iwaizumi opens the door and Oikawa squints at the light, yellow and burning in his eyes. 

The nurses look up, and Iwaizumi waves. They’re shoulders relax. They all watch as Oikawa and Iwaizumi make their bodies move down the hall. Iwaizumi glances at a clock, finally able to see the hands and the time. 

2:34 am. 

The ward they’re living in is small, on the third floor, with 3 elderly patients, a teenager and their parents, and one dying man. Oikawa has listened to all of their conversations over the past day, and as they pass each room with their drawn curtains he tries to guess whose conversation is whose. 

They walk without saying anything at all, Iwaizumi’s brain still partly asleep. Oikawa’s brain wanting to be. It feels nice to stretch his legs, the pain in his stomach all he’s felt for the past few days. But it’s nice. This ache in his legs, it feels good to loosen their stiffness. 

When they reach the end of the hall, Oikawa’s eyes feel dizzy and quiet again. They walk even slower. 

Iwaizumi helps them turn as they walk back towards the room. There’s art on the wall, and he looks at each one as they pass them. Some of them look like children’s art. Others are professional, most are of nature. 

“Pretty art,” Iwaizumi whispers, and Oikawa looks up as if he’s just shaken awake. 

“What?” 

“The art, it’s pretty,” Iwaizumi says,

“That’s all,” 

Oikawa looks at the art on the wall Iwaizumi faces and nods his head. He agrees. It’s very pretty.

“Yeah,” He says. He looks back down at his feet. 

“Where did I get these slippers?” he asks, but Iwaizumi doesn’t hear him as they turn into the room. Oikawa slides his feet out of the slipper next to the chair by the door where visitors can sit. Iwaizumi helps him into bed and Oikawa looks at the slippers from there. 

“Rest, you need to heal,” Iwaizumi says and pulls the sheets up to his chin. He kisses his forehead, going through the routine in his head. Oikawa nods and turns his back to Iwaizumi as he sits down in his chair again. 

He waits a few minutes and hears Iwaizumi snoring. He turns to him. His head is down on the mattress again, leaning on his arms. Almost his entire upper body leans on the bed next to Oikawa’s chest. He’s close enough to see the goosebumps on his skin. Oikawa pulls at one of the top blankets, his bed is dressed with 3, and shuffles it over and around Iwaizumi’s shoulders. He turns his back to him again and lets his body sink into the stiff mattress. His hand is under his cheek and he stares at the slippers across the room. 

He still doesn’t know where he got those slipper. He doesn’t remember putting them on. 

-

-

-

-

- Day 3. 

Sleep does well to those who wish to move through time and forget all they want to forget. And for Oikawa, sleep is like time travel altogether. 

When Iwaizumi wakes up, Oikawa is sitting up in bed sipping from a bottle of a protein shake, a small tray in his lap with some oatmeal. He’s found a magazine and is flipping through it the thin paper crinkling with the sound of morning boredom. He rips out a page and puts it down next to him. 

Iwaizumi sits up with a sigh, and feels the knots in his spine crack and pop. He rolls his neck and it does the same. 

“Morning!” Oikawa says, and his smile is warm with the straw between his lips. The light shines in from the window behind him and Iwaizumi can see it trickle into Oikawa’s hair, like gold thread. He flips another page of the magazine. 

Iwaizumi sighs again and it shifts into a yawn and his lungs take in so much air it’s like he hasn’t breathed in a long time. He stretches his arms above his head. 

“Good Morning...” He says and moves to kiss him but Oikawa scrambles for the magazine and presses it to Iwaizumi’s face.

“Morning breath, gross Iwa-chan,” He sings and Iwaizumi falls away from the glossy page. He rolls his eyes. 

“Mnnnn, fine,” he grumbles and shakes his head and grabs the duffel, dragging it into the bathroom with him. Oikawa giggles to himself and takes another bite of his oatmeal. It warm, and mushy and Oikawa gulps it down because it heats him up from the inside out. 

Iwaizumi takes approximately 5 minutes, to brush his teeth, change into new clothes, and freshen up his face. Even so, by the time he’s finished, Oikawa is taking the last bite of his oatmeal and his protein shake is starting to slurp. 

Iwaizumi tries to crack his other joins as he leaves the restroom, rolling his shoulder to loosen the muscles. Oikawa puts down his magazine. 

“Now can I have a kiss?” Iwaizumi asks and Oikawa looks at him from over his nose a small pout on his lips. He’s pretending to ponder the question. 

“Yes,” He says quickly and leans in as Iwaizumi smirks and leans down. Oikawa’s lips are soft as usual in the morning. 

“Good morning you two,” The doctor’s voice enters the room as quickly as she scans the clipboard.

“How are we doing today Oikawa?” her voice is light as she speaks to him and he smiles.

“Good, I’m feeling less pain but still achy,” he says and places a hand on his stomach. Iwaizumi takes his usual place in the chair next to the bed. He sits and listens, hunched over with sleep still lingering in his bones. 

“Well, that’s expected,” The doctor says and takes the tray from Oikawa’s lap. She places it in the hands of one of the nurses who’s come to pick it up. 

“May I take a look?” She asks and Oikawa nods pushing the blankets down to his thighs. 

She lifts his shirt and presses her gloved fingers lightly to his side. The skin is soft and pale around the pink line hooking around from Oikawa’s hip to mid-waist. Only a part of it is swollen. She presses down and Oikawa sucks in a small breath. His skin whitens then flushes as she presses. 

“All right, it looks healthy, the swelling is normal and should go down by tomorrow or the next day,” She says and then turns to the monitors, jotting down the numbers onto the clipboard. 

Oikawa pulls down his shirt and readjusts his blankets to cover up to his waist. He pulls his knees up and curls his toes around his sheets. The silence builds on top of them and they all hold their breath to keep it at bay. Oikawa wonders how long he’ll actually have to stay in this solitary bed. 

“He’s been getting better at walking,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa looks from him to the doctor. She nods. 

The click of her pen is all the response they get, and Oikawa picks up the pages he ripped out of the magazine. Iwaizumi looks over his shoulder at the outfits and quizzes. 

“I like that one,” He whispers and points. Blue jeans, a brown jacket, white shirt. Oikawa nods and looks at him then points to another.

“That one is the one I wanna do at home.” It’s a simple outfit with just a black shirt, french tucked into the grey jeans. It’s advertising the designer glasses, but Oikawa is more interested in the clothes. Iwaizumi nods his approval. 

“Well!” The doctor’s voice surprises them both and they look up from the magazine pages. She takes a seat on the end of Oikawa’s bed. 

“All your numbers look way healthier than a person who had surgery a few days ago; you’ve been up on your feet already, and your incision sight looks clean.” She says all this as if she’s giving them other news, and Oikawa sits forward waiting for it. 

“You seem too healthy to be a patient here...” The doctor has a smirk on her lips and her eyes are smaller than their usual round blue. 

“Which means...” Oikawa’s toes curl again on his sheets.

“We need to get a CT scan to be sure everything inside is okay, but if it is,” 

“...” Oikawa holds his breath,

“There’s no reason for you to stay,” She says. 

Oikawa lets out all his excitement in a single gasp and bounces himself in the bed. The doctor laughs at his joy and nods as Oikawa looks back and forth from her to Iwaizumi.
“Of course you can’t leave today, we’ll want one more night just to be sure, but if everything’s fine tomorrow morning you’ll be discharged by noon.” She says and Iwaizumi has to hold Oikawa’s shoulders so he doesn’t bounce out of his stitches. 

“I’ll have a nurse come around this afternoon to take you for CT,” she says and bows her head. 

“Thank you,” Iwaizumi says and bows as the doctor leaves. And as soon as he sits back down Oikawa beams in his direction. Iwaizumi smiles down at him and runs his hand through Oikawa’s hair.

Oikawa doesn’t know what to do with himself, as another nurse comes in to tell him he should be walking as much as possible and bring him a new glass of water. He’s giddy to the point of empty thoughts, his body restless and reaching out for anything to fiddle with. 

“Why don’t we get you changed,” Iwaizumi says and taps Oikawa on the shoulder. He nods and throws the blanket off him. His body feels warm and happy as he moves but Iwaizumi still makes a point to help him as he walks. 

His smile won't fall off his face no matter how hard he tries to shake it, trying to calm down but his heart is floating in his chest. He thinks about their room back home, and how much he misses the smell of their pillows, as Iwaizumi takes off his shirt. 

“I can’t wait to be home,” Oikawa says and sighs looking at Iwaizumi who is needlessly untying the drawstring of Oikawa’s shorts. 

“I can imagine,” Iwaizumi says letting Oikawa’s smile spread to his own lips. He pulls clean clothes out of the bag and holds them out.

“So, you can either wear long pajama pants and a white shirt or my Nike joggers and this other white shirt,” Iwaizumi says moving each up and down as if he’s weighing them. Oikawa touches each, feeling the shirt.

“The joggers look comfy,” Oikawa says and takes them from Iwaizumi’s hands with the shirt and underwear. 

“Plus, then we’ll match,” Oikawa says with a smile and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. He slips out of his alien shorts and into the underwear and black joggers; holding on to Iwaizumi’s shoulder for support. 

“You know you don’t always have to come in here with me,” Oikawa says as he ties the pant laces. And Iwaizumi watches his hands curl and loop the strings into a near-perfect bow.  

“I know,” Iwaizumi says as Oikawa pulls the shirt over his head.

“But it’s my daily dose of your ass right now, so... you know” Iwaizumi smirks as he speaks and shrugs a little and Oikawa’s head pops out of the shirt with his jaw dropped, his body already leaning forward. He giggles. 

“That’s dirty, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says as he comes closer, and Iwaizumi smiles glancing from his eyes to his lips. He takes one hand out of his pocket to reach for Oikawa’s hip and pulls him closer, pressing a kiss to his lips, 

“Well,” then his cheek,

“How else,” and his jaw,

“Am I going,” and his neck, 

“To survive?” and the small space under his ear. Oikawa giggles and Iwaizumi returns to his lips pressing into Oikawa until he leans back a little. Hanging off of Iwaizumi. 

“Mm, well, I guess it’s a must then...” Oikawa hums, his eyes still closed. He pulls on Iwaizumi’s shirt enjoying the embrace of his warmth for the few seconds it lasts. Then he slips his fingers under the hem. 

“O!” Iwaizumi says and jumps at the chill of Oikawa’s finger. They crawl around Iwaizumi’s sides, up his ribs as Iwaizumi tries to push them away.

“Tooru, your— oh— fingers—cold, oh my god!” Iwaizumi shutters and jumps away from Oikawa who smiles like he had planned it all along. 

“Come give me a hug Iwa-chaaan...” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi shakes his head keeping his hands to himself. 

“Nope, you’re dressed, brush your teeth and I’ll see you outside,” 

“Awwww,” Oikawa whines and watches as Iwaizumi sneaks past him and he wiggles his fingers as a threat. 

There’s a nurse taking the sheets off the bed and replacing them with clean ones. She smiles at him when he rushes in laughing. And he tries to quiet himself, putting a hand to his mouth. And as soon as he does, a yawn takes over and his eyes water. He can still feel the lethargy in his bones. 

Oikawa joins him a moment later, and Iwaizumi offers his arm for him to hold. 

“I think I’m gonna go find some coffee,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa sits down on the clean sheets, just as the nurse finishes changing his pillow cases. 

“Okay,” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi helps lifts his legs onto the bed. He rubs his legs as he leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead and Oikawa closes his eyes to feel it. 

“Warm-up while I’m gone,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa smiles nodding. Oikawa glances at the clock.
9:23 am.

Iwaizumi takes the computer with him when he leaves and Oikawa pulls out his magazine again, searching for the horoscope section. He finds his sign first and reads. Then he finds Iwaizumi’s and reads. 

By the time he’s finished flipping through the entire magazine, the hospital has started to pick up pace. Oikawa can hear the families visit the rooms next to him. He can hear their laughter and the others argue. One of the older women in the room next to him is arguing with her daughter over her sex life and weather or not the older woman should be talking of such things. Oikawa sits staring at the glass as people walk by, laughing as the old woman’s voice carries down the hall. He hopes he’ll be exactly like that when he’s old. He can already hear Iwaizumi’s voice scolding him. 

“Hi, baby!” Oikawa looks from the spot on the glass.

“Hi Mom,” He says and sets the magazine on the side table while she digs through her purse. She pulls out a large binder Oikawa swears shouldn’t logically fit in her bag and brings it to his bed. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks and pushes on his side for him to scoot over. 

“Good, the doctor says I’m progressing really well and can probably go home tomorrow,” Oikawa says and continues to look from his mother to the binder. It has no title. 

“That’s excellent darling,” His mom nearly sings and Oikawa nods with a smile. 

“Where’s Dad?” he asks and decides to just take the binder from her. 

“Oh, he had to work, had a big meeting at the university to prepare for the upcoming semester!” she says and pats a hand on the top of binder just as Oikawa’s about to open it and it snaps closed. She goes on for about five minutes about Oikawa’s father, and his lessons, and how Oikawa’s sisters send their bests from their work abroad, and his brother from his meetings in America. Her hand doesn’t leave the top of the binder. It doesn’t let him open it either. 

When Oikawa’s about to snap and pry the binder out of her hands she finally brings it up.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about this,” she says and pulls the binder back onto her lap. 

She opens the binder and lets Oikawa peer into it, and just as Oikawa prepares for it to be something astonishing, his shoulders shrink and relax as he stares into a display binder of fabric swatches, and color combination and decorating ideas. It’s his mother’s work binder. 

“It’s just your work binder?” Oikawa asks and pulls the thing back onto his lap, flipping through it quickly. 

“Yes, what did you think it was?” His mother asks and he shakes his head and looks at her. Her gold eyes as innocent as ever. 

“I don’t know, the way you were protecting it I thought you were gonna spring your sexy nudes on me or something,” He says,

“Oh don’t be so crude, Tooru!” his mother says and takes the binder back. 

“I just need help with some work stuff,” she says and Oikawa presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“And plus, I wouldn’t keep my nudes in a binder, that would be careless,” she says without another thought, flipping the page like it was a Sunday morning brunch menu. Oikawa, however, in an instant loses track of any and all thoughts and apparently the air in his lungs as well. 

“MOM!” he shouts and his head tries to shake the idea free before an image forms. 

“Oh please,” 

“Nope, nope,” 

“Tooru...”

“You said not to be crude, so just stop,” he says and puts his hands up to his face. 

“I am already scarred physically, I don’t need you to scar me mentally too,” he says and his mother laughs in the way she always has at his jokes, like he’s still a kid being adorable. He sighs and tries to focus on the white binder that holds decorating material and nothing else. 

Oikawa goes through the pages as his mother talks about color coordination and theme, and the client’s family. Oikawa looks at the images of the house, the layout and the cutouts his mother has. 

“It’s spacious, and that big window will provide a lot of light,” Oikawa says, looking closer at the picture.

“So we should go with a white accent and lighter colors,” His mother says and Oikawa nods. 

She stays for all of an hour and a half and discusses the apartment’s she’s decorating and the house of this particular client. Oikawa agrees with most of her decisions, but think’s the soft colors will be too much. He helps her pick out brighter more vibrant colors, and when they’ve got it laid out on the page she shouts and kisses him on the cheek. 

Oikawa’s mother has been an interior decorator ever since she quit her office job when he was 13, and whenever she wasn’t sure about one of her ideas she always turned to Oikawa for a new opinion. She has done this and still does this, and Oikawa expects her to continue to do this until she stops working. 

By the time she leaves Oikawa’s legs have started to ache from not moving and sitting and folding. His joints feel like someone’s poured plaster between them and it’s slowly starting to expand. 

He gets out of bed and feels his muscles cry out and his bones pop in place. He needs to walk around like the nurse told him, but Iwaizumi isn't here and Oikawa doesn’t feel okay enough to walk on his own yet. He tries to see if a nurse is at the station who can walk with him, but the only nurse there is focused on the screen. Oikawa doesn’t want to bother her. He clings to the end of his bed, gripping the end frame with one hand.  

He stretches a little bit and waits to see if a nurse walks by. But just as he’s about to give in and call for the busy nurse, Makki turns the corner and waves. Oikawa perks up at the sight of him holding out his arm. 

Makki jogs a little to Oikawa when he puts his arm out. He’s pulled into a hug as soon as he reaches him with the usual polite hello, and how are you. 

“What are you doing up?” Makki asks offering Oikawa his arm to lean on. Oikawa takes it with a sigh. 

“I was just about to call a nurse to help me walk around,” Oikawa says and Makki’s eyebrows bounce up in understanding.

“Well, I’m here,” Makki says and leads a hand out for them to walk. Oikawa chuckles and nods taking a step towards the door. 

The slippers from the night before still sit by the visitor’s chair and Oikawa stops to slip them on. He hadn’t realized before how soft they are. They feel good on his toes. 

“So where’s Iwaizumi?” Makki asks glancing back at the room. And Oikawa shrugs a little as they pass the nurses station.

“He went looking for coffee a bit ago,” Oikawa says. 

“He took the computer though so I think he might have found somewhere to sit,” Makki listens as Oikawa talks while they walk. They follow the curve of the hall, past the elevator. Oikawa looks into the rooms he hasn’t seen yet. He tells Makki about all the conversations he’s overheard, and about his mother and what the doctor says. 

“So will you be out today?” Makki asks and adjusts his arm under Oikawa’s hand. 

“No, tomorrow, I’ve gotta get a CT scan first to make sure everything’s fine inside,” 

“Oh,”

“So where’s Mattsun?” Oikawa asks and looks around as if he’ll pop out of a corner somewhere.

“Oh, he had to work,” Makki says and looks down at his feet.

“How is work, for you two?” Oikawa asks and chases after Makki’s eyes. 

“Good, Isseis been working on this new program that’s been absorbing him, he’s been coding day and night to work out the kinks,” He says and Oikawa nods remembering Mattsun’s career. As a computer programmer, the only real result Oikawa’s seen has been the increase in meme’s Mattsun makes and sends him. 

“And your shop? How are things there?” Oikawa tries to picture it, the building of flowers that pour out of every container, and the blown glass Makki makes for sale behind the counter. He used to help out in the flower shop when he was still looking for work himself, and he always loved the smell.

“It’s good, still smells the same, and my glass pond orbs are really popular this time of year,” 

“Oh, you mean the little floaty orbs, the ones that look like fat frogs?” Oikawa asks shaping an invisible one with his hands. 

“Yeah, those,” Makki says trying not to laugh. Oikawa had been fascinated with Makki’s blown glass creations since he discovered the art in college. He used to hang out in the studio and watch him make them until Makki would throw him out for making too many gay jokes around the word “blow”. 

“I’m gonna have to come in and buy one then,” Oikawa says and smiles as they turn the corner. 

“Another? Don’t you have like 6?” Makki asks and tries to count how many Oikawa’s bought from him in his head. 

“Yeah but different designs, I buy the most popular one each year,” Oikawa says and pictures all the different glass art he’s bought from Makki that’s sitting in his backyard. 

“What do you even do with them?” Makki asks. 

Oikawa thinks about the little things, sitting in the grass, in their small garden backyard. How the little orbs hug the plants and one floats in a tub he put out for it and some water plants live in. Oikawa shrugs and looks around them, they’re in the cafeteria now.

“I talk to them,” Oikawa says and spots Iwaizumi sitting in the corner typing rapidly on his computer. 

“Do you want some tea?” Makki asks as they find themselves standing at the back of the line.

“Um, yeah sure,” Oikawa says looking up at the menu. He orders a green tea in a to-go cup and Makki asks for a small pastry from the window. 

Oikawa finds the clock on the wall as they wait for their orders and tilts his head. 

11:55 am. 

It’s almost noon, and Oikawa looks at Makki’s pastry. His stomach growls a little as it realizes the time. They pick up their items and Oikawa holds Makki’s arm, but he can feel his balance returning the more he walks, the movements easier as he goes through them. His muscles don’t hurt as much, only ache. 

“I think Iwa-chan’s over there,” Oikawa says and points to the corner where he can see the sticker on Iwaizumi’s laptop. As he moves about the tables he slowly slides his other hand around his tea and Makki puts his hand down.

“Iwa-chaaan!” Oikawa sings and Iwaizumi looks up.

“Tooru!” Iwaizumi says all the thoughts scattering in his brain to make the connection of the cute man coming towards him. 

“Hi,” He says and looks, in order, from Oikawa’s eyes to his lips, to the tea in his hands, to Makki walking up right behind him. 

“What are you two doing out?” Iwaizumi says and pulls out the chair opposite for Oikawa then a third for Makki.

“Nothing, just getting my walks in,” Oikawa says and takes a sip of his tea as he sits down. 

“Good,” Iwaizumi speaks as he types, his eyes shooting up every now and then from his computer screen. 

“What are you working on?” Makki asks and leans to see the screen, but Iwaizumi waves him away. 

“Just some work stuff I have to get done,”

Oikawa keeps sipping his tea, the sweet flavor washing over his tongue and warming up his chest. He shrugs up his shoulders to try and contain the warmth even as it fades. 

“And where’s Mattsun?” Iwaizumi asks, and Makki leans back. 

“At work, computing numbers and shit,” he says and Iwaizumi chuckles as his fingers fly and slam on the keys. 

“You know if you type like that you’re gonna break your keys,” Oikawa says. 

“Yeah tell that to my 5 semi-broken keys.” Iwaizumi says and doesn’t try to keep the smile off his face. 

With a sigh and a couple more words typed, Iwaizumi closes the computer and picks up the coffee he’s been neglecting that’s somehow still warm.

“So, what’s going on?” He asks and sips his coffee trying to relax from his adrenaline rushed typing. 

“Not much,” Oikawa says and reaches across the table to steal a bit of Makki’s pastry.

“Are you even allowed to eat that?” 

“Probably not,” he says.

“But you just had surgery,”

“It’s so small though” Oikawa holds the piece of sweet bread in front of his lips debating whether he wants to or not.

“Give it,” Iwaizumi says and puts his hand out and Oiakwa pouts before placing it on his palm. Makki watches the piece of bread he was hoping to get back be handed off and then tossed into Iwaizumi’s mouth.

“Wha— that’s mine!” Makki says only half-serious but still a little surprised. 

“Oh, you wanted it?” Iwaizumi says and Makki shakes his head in shock.

“Well, kinda!” 

Oikawa laughs as Iwaizumi chews on the corner piece of bread he just stole. 

“Honestly, you two,” Makki says and shoves the rest of his bread in his mouth.

“I can’t enjoy anything around you without it being stolen,” he complains. 

“Isn’t it your lunchtime?” Iwaizumi asks and looks at the clock.
12:12 pm. 

Oikawa nods as his stomach growls a little more and he thinks about how sweet that bread probably was. 

“That’s why I wanted a bite,” his voice takes on almost a puffy sound to it as he pouts again and Iwaizumi and Makki mimic each other by shaking their heads.

Makki looks at the clock as well and sits up in his chair.

“Oh shit, I’ve gotta get going,” he says and crumples up his napkin and little bread bag. 

“You’ve only been here like 20 minutes,” Oikawa says and looks up at him as he stands. Makki runs his hands through his hair and shrugs as he speaks. 

“I know, but I’ve gotta meet Mattsun for lunch for our anniversary,” 

“Anniversary? I thought you guys got married in October?” Iwaizumi says. Oikawa looks between them, back and forth as they speak, listening. 

“Yeah I know, this is the anniversary of our first date, remember? Spring vacation second year?” Makki says and starts to count his things, 

“Ahh, so you’re one of those couples?” Iwaizumi says and leans on his elbow.

“Eh, Issei is, I’m usually the one who makes a big deal out of the wedding date,” Makki says. 

“So you guys gonna do anything special?” Oikawa chimes in having reached the end of his tea. 

“No, just lunch and probably some late night sex,” Makki’s cheeks tint a little at the mention of their possible later plans, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. But all Oikawa and Iwaizumi do is look from each other to Makki with their eyebrows raised. 

“Well, have fun, say hello to Mattsun for us,” Iwaizumi says and Makki bends down to give him a quick hug, and then Oikawa as well.

“See ya guys,” He whispers as he waves and pulls out his phone to make a call. Oikawa watches him leave until he disappears around the corner. 

Iwaizumi takes the last gulp of his coffee that’s now cold to the taste. Over Iwaizumi’s shoulder, Oikawa can see the city skyline and he leans to see it more. 

“Wow,” he says mostly to himself, and Iwaizumi turns to see. 

“Oh yeah, it’s a great view from here,” 

Oikawa reaches for his tea, but when he puts it to his mouth he’s reminded that it’s empty. 

“You want another?” Iwaizumi asks and Oiakwa looks down at his cup. He shrugs. 

“Eh, I should probably go back to the room,” He whispers and the empty cup makes a hollow sound when he sets it down. 

“Mm-k,” Iwaizumi says and picks up his laptop when he stands. He holds out his hand for Oikawa to take, 

“I’ll walk you back,” he says. Oikawa wraps his fingers around Iwaizumi’s and doesn’t let go.

He feels better walking on his own, his steps still slow and tired but Iwaizumi stays close and keeps pace as he holds his hand like he used to. With their arms hanging at their sides, a barely noticeable swing to them.  

“When was the last time we had Mattsun and Makki over?” Oikawa asks trying to think back, 

“I’m not sure, it’s been a good while,” he says. 

Makki and Mattsun have been their best friends since high school, and even when they started dating remained close as couple friends. They live close and call often, but Oikawa can’t remember the last time they all actually hung out at the house together like they used to. 

“We should do a pizza movie night like when we were in University,” Oikawa says and giggles at the image of when they lived in those small apartments, and would all cram onto the floor to watch the movie. 

“Yeaaah!” Iwaizumi sings. 

“God those were so funny; remember that time Makki got really drunk and broke our coffee table?”

“Cause he refused to sit on Mattsun’s lap,” 

“But then we didn’t fix it,”

“We just piled books—ha—under it and duct-taped—haha—the broken leg,” Oikawa can’t hold back his laughter as they walk and he feels Iwaizumi squeeze his hand. 

“We were all so stupid back then,” Iwaizumi mumbles and Oikawa snorts, 

“We’re still stupid,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi nods. 

Iwaizumi looks down at his feet.

“We’ll have to invite them over soon,” Iwaizumi whispers and they turn the corner to Oikawa’s hall.

“Yeah,” Oikawa hums. 

“You know Makki was telling me that the frog orbs at his flower shop are doing well,” Oikawa chimes and Iwaizumi pretends to be interested as always. 

“Very nice,” 

“Reminded me that it’s almost time to clean out the orbs we have at home,” He whispers. 

“Oh thank god,”

“What?” Oikawa asks and stops walking, 

“For a second I thought you were gonna say we needed to buy one,” 

“Well, of course, we need to buy one, but we need to clean the others first!” Oikawa exclaims and Iwaizumi laughs.

“You already have like six, you can’t just keep buying more! We won’t have enough room”

“Well we can get a bigger backyard then,” Oikawa shakes his head as he talks and avoids Iwaizumi’s eyes. 

“And just move?” Iwaizumi asks, he pulls on Oikawa’s hand to get him walking again and Oikawa squeezes his fingers. 

“Well... maybe,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi looks at him. Oikawa’s eyes glint with an idea that he’s not telling him, and Iwaizumi is tempted to ask what it is. 

“I thought you liked our house?” Iwaizumi asks trying to pry open Oiakwa’s thoughts to see what he’s thinking. 

“I do! I love our house, but it’s small,” Oikawa says. 

“So you want something bigger?” Iwaizumi keeps pushing.

“I know it would be more money and we don’t have that right now especially now with medical bills,” Oikawa motions to the nurse’s station as he speaks. 

“Tooru, don’t worry about that,” Iwaizumi says, 

“But it’s gonna be a lot,” 

“No, we’re gonna pay in installments, and plus the insurance will cover most of it,” Iwaizumi moves in front of Oikawa to stop him, his hands holding tight to Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about all that, what dream do you have?” Iwaizumi asks and tries to catch Oikawa’s eyes as they shift. 

“Well, I was thinking a bigger house, with more than one room, and a little back garden, prettier than the one we have, and a pretty kitchen, and just all the works,” Oikawa says thinking of the house he grew up in and the house he wants to live in with Iwaizumi. 

“Then one day we’ll have it,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa looks up at him surprised.

“I’ll start saving as soon as we get home,” Iwaizumi says and rubs his hands up and down Oikawa’s shoulders. Oikawa starts to giggle.

“You always do this,”

“Do what?” 

“This! You make these promises, to make me happy, and I never know what to do,” Oikawa says and feels the excitement build in his chest. He hasn’t even told Iwaizumi that he might want kids to fill those extra rooms. But here Iwaizumi was, making promises, and Oikawa letting his heart race thinking about all the small things he wants for them. 

“Well, of course, I want you to be happy,” Iwaizumi says, his brain trying to work out why he wouldn’t make such promises. Why he wouldn’t do everything to make Oikawa happy. 

“And somehow you always keep them,” Oikawa whispers, his hand reaches out and tugs on Iwaizumi’s shirt. He pulls him closer.

“Well, that’s because I made them to you,” Iwaizumi says and shrugs his shoulders, trying to act like it’s the simplest thing when really it’s him aching to be the cause of that glorious smile. 

“Hajime—” Oikawa starts but his words are interrupted by the rumble of his stomach.

“Well that’s not good,” Iwaizumi says and slips his hand around Oikawa’s. 

“Come on, let's get you some food,” Iwaizumi says and presses a kiss to the back of Oikawa’s hand before pulling him along again towards the room.

When they reach the room a nurse has just started to set out his tray of food by his bed. He greets them when they walk in and Oikawa tries to be polite while also eyeing the food. 

“Now don’t eat too quickly or else you might get sick,” The nurse warns and Oikawa thanks him as he leaves. The tray holds another protein shake, and a small sandwich, and the comically classic jello cup. Oikawa picks up the jello first, wanting something sweet. He crawls onto the bed as he opens the cup, and searches for the spoon on the tray.

Iwaizumi takes up his usual spot and watches as Oikawa dives into his jiggly sweet treat. Eating the dessert first as usual. His laptop closed on his lap. His thumb rubbing over the ridges of the stickers.    

“So what were you working on?” Oikawa asks and glances over, eyeing the computer on Iwaizumi’s lap. He looks down at the laptop then up to Oikawa again as he sucks on his spoon. 

“Oh, you know, my editor’s been breathing down my neck for this article since last week and I haven’t finished it yet.” Iwaizumi says and shrugs a little. 

“Are you almost finished? Whn’s it due?” Oikawa says his mouth now full of both jello and sandwich.

“Tomorrow, but I’ll work on it later,” Iwaizumi says and as soon as he does he regrets it.

“WHAT?” Oikawa almost chokes on his sandwich inhaling too sharply the bread and whatever’s in it. He coughs and shoves more jello into his mouth to remedy. 

“Uh-uh, nope, you’re finishing right now,” Oikawa says and waves and shoos his hand at Iwaizumi.

“Don’t look at me anymore, go write, talk up all that sports and then see me when you’re done,” He says and shoves more jello in his mouth. “Tooru, it’s fine, I can work on it tonight,” 

“NO! Work! Now!” Oikawa says pointing at the computer and aggressively bites into his sandwich. He chews with his brows scrunched up, his expression similar to a child, pouting with anger. 

“Working at night, PShhs” he mumbles and Iwaizumi smirks to himself as he opens the computer. The article really is almost done, and Iwaizumi looks at the time, trying to estimate how long it will take. He checks the word count and the page number and continues with the sentence he left unfinished.
12:45 pm. 

Once Oikawa hears Iwaizumi start typing at his normal pace he takes the last bite of his sandwich and cracks open his protein shake. He pulls up the blanket to fit around his waist, the cold air biting into him, and pushes the now empty tray down to his feet. 

Iwaizumi has always been a fast typer, but as the words pour out of the page he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t recognize them. All the article is is sports, but for some reason, he can’t find the slightest interest in any of it. He just wants to close his eyes for a bit. 

“Can you hand me my book?” Oikawa asks and looks at the duffel next to Iwaizumi’s feet. Iwaizumi looks up registering what he’s asking then reaches for the book. Oikawa settles in and starts to read as Iwaizumi’s thoughts still wonder circles around his article.  

Iwaizumi always hated being rushed to write, he stares at the screen then looks up at Oikawa. He glances at the clock. It always seems like time moves faster when he’s in a rush, but his fingers slow down.

“You almost done?” Oikawa says as he turns the page. Iwaizumi glares. Now he’s just being an ass. 

“Yes.” He says and grumbles as he keeps typing. He types three words, then deletes them, then types five more and stares. He sighs to himself again. As a writer, he personally hates writing when he can’t seem to write.

There’s a knock and both Oikawa and Iwaizumi look up. A nurse comes in, and bows.

“Sorry, to intrude, but we need Oikawa to drink this,” She says and approaches with a tall cup and straw with various words and symbols on it that Iwaizumi can’t make out. He looks back at his screen. 

“To prepare for your scans,” she says when Oikawa hesitates. He nods and takes the mug from her hands and sips on it before slowly chugging it down. She tells him not to drink anything else until after his scan. And Oikawa sticks out his tongue as she leaves and tries to look at it, the rough suffocating flavor of chalk drying out his throat now. He looks at the clock. He wonders how long until he’ll get scanned.   

2:25 pm.

-

- 

By the time he finishes the article, Oikawa is starting to fall asleep with the book on his face, small snores coming from his nose. Iwaizumi too feels the drawl of the afternoon warmth as the sun shines in through a nearby window. He closes the computer, having proofread it twice already. He tells himself he’ll lie his head down just for a moment. He feels he barely closes his eyes before a nurse walks in.

“Oh, um...” She pushes a wheelchair up to the bed,

“It’s time for his CT scan,” She says and Iwaizumi nods. 

“Tooru, babe, wake up,” Iwaizumi says and rubs a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder. Oikawa jumps at the touch and grabs onto his book.

“Wha?” he mumbles. 

“Time for your last CT!” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa’s eyes open wide now fully awake. He presses his palms to the bed to sit himself up while the nurse positions the wheelchair close to the bed. Oikawa’s heart pounds as he moves from the bed to the wheelchair, and the nurse pushes his body down the hall. Iwaizumi walking closely behind. 

They take turns down hallways Oikawa hadn’t noticed, to an area that’s bustling on the hinges of life, and he feels the pressure of all their tense faces. He wants to go back to his room. But the nurse parks him next to a door and says to wait there. A nurse technician will call him inside. 

Iwaizumi leans on the wall next to him and follows each doctor, as they rush by, with his eyes. Oikawa looks at the clock on the wall in front of them and then up at Iwaizumi with a sigh. 

5:23 pm. 

Iwaizumi hadn’t realized how late it was, how long they had been sleeping. But the nap still lags in his body, and he yawns trying to expel it. 

“Just a couple more hours and we can go home,” Oikawa whispers, and he twiddles his thumbs in his lap as they wait. He almost doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to jinx it, his own health, but he tried not to believe in that stuff. So he keeps whispering.

“Just a couple more hours,” 

He leans his head against the wall. The crowds of doctors that swarm passed them mumble and chatter about their patients, and treatments, and home after work. Oikawa and Iwaizumi watch them as they pass by. The door opens. 

“Oikawa, Tooru?” The nurse in her blue scrubs looks down at him from the door and smiles. He rolls the wheelchair a bit away from the wall until the nurse takes the handles and pushes him through the door. 

On the inside are two rooms, one with a window where Iwaizumi is told he can wait, where the nurse helps Oikawa strip to his underwear and put on a gown, where she gives him an injection and asks him questions; the other where the machine waits. Oikawa hands Iwaizumi his clothes and follows the nurse into the next room.

Through the window, he can see as the nurse asks Oikawa another series of questions, and he nods and answers all of them calmly. But Iwaizumi knows that look in his eyes, of the many looks he’s seen he knows that’s the one that says my heart is racing, can you come calm it . Oikawa glances at Iwaizumi as he steps up on the machine. The nurse helps him lie down, puts his arms above his head, and tells him not to move. Iwaizumi stands closer to the window and presses a hand to the glass. Oikawa’s eyes shift around and find him. 

There’s a small fake smile that wavers across Oikawa’s lips before the nurse tells him to look forward. He breaks his eyes away from Iwaizumi. Oikawa lies as still as he can as the machine starts to move, his feet entering first. The pillows placed around him make it easy for him to rest, he sinks into them and wonders if the machine can see him breathe. 

The machine sounds like it’s vibrating, moaning in his ear as he passes through it. It’s loud but not obnoxious. It’s as if there’s a spinning fan on his face, but he feels no air on his skin. This silence is alive and haunting, and he wants it to go away. 

The white noise soon blends into the background of Oikawa’s thoughts only jumping out when it changes. His mouth still tastes like chalk from the shake they gave him, and he tries to clear his throat to make it go away, but all that does is make him need to cough. He holds his breath.

The nurse leaves the room while the machine works, and Oikawa watches the ceiling change from white to a closer white, to blue, to white, to the farther white and repeat over and over again. He moves in and out, again and again. Iwaizumi continues to stand by the window. No one says anything. 

When Oikawa’s arms start to hurt and his muscles ache the machine goes quiet.

“Okay, you can move now,” the nurse says and he sits himself up on the bench. She helps him down from the machine and brings him back to the waiting room where Iwaizumi still stands by the window. 

“If you can take a seat, I’ll take you to the post-scan waiting area and the radiologist will be there soon to discuss your scans,” she says and motions to the wheelchair. Oikawa nods and takes a seat, following Iwaiumi with his eyes as he opens the door for them, and the nurse pushes him into the hall. 

The post-scan room isn’t far, but in an adjacent room to the machine, it isn’t busy either. Most of the other people are alone, and tired, some of them have even fallen asleep. Oikawa listens as one little girl plays with a toy, and a nurse keeps her company. 

“What did that big thing do?” She asks and she moves the doll’s hand around like it’s speaking. 

“Well, it took a bunch of pictures so the doctors can see inside of you,” the nurse says and the little girl screams and presses her doll to her chest.

“No one inside,” She says and looks from her lap to the nurse.

“It’s okay, they need to find out what’s wrong so they can help you,” the nurse speaks to the little girl with a voice much softer than he’d expect to hear after she had screamed. The little girl and the nurse keep talking when Oikawa turns away. 

He leans into Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he sits next to him, many of the other patients are in beds, and he longs for the support of something warm. Iwaizumi’s hand snakes over to wrap Oikawa’s fingers up in his. They listen to the chatter, and the snores, and the bustle as they wait. 

“Was the machine loud?” Iwaizumi asks and Oikawa looks up.

“A little, not as loud as last time,” Oikawa whispers, 

“Last time?” Iwaizumi turns more to Oikawa surprised that he’s done this before. 

“When you brought me in, they had to confirm what was wrong, so they gave me an emergency CT, I had trouble staying still, but the worst was the sound, it was terrifying,” Oikawa whispers, so other patients can’t hear him, his voice raspy as he remembers a few nights back. 

The doctor comes in before Iwaizumi can say anything else, and Oikawa sits forward in his chair. 

“If you wanna follow me, I’ll take you back to your room to give you the results,” She says and Oikawa wonders what was the point of making him sit in the room in the first place. 

Iwaizumi pushes Oikawa out of the hall, behind the doctor and they follow her back to the room. Oikawa wonders how she remembers where his room is, if she remembers all the patient’s, or if she read the number on the clipboard. He tries not to think about the results because he has a bad feeling they’re not going to be what he wants. 

Their room is empty and waiting for them when they arrive, and the doctor looks through her notes as Oikawa crawls back into bed. 

“So,” the doctor says and takes a seat on the corner of his bed. Iwaizumi sits in his usual spot, and reaches for Oikawa’s hand. 

“Based on these scans, and what your stitches look like...” she looks at her clipboard again, 

“You’re almost perfectly healthy.” Oikawa sighs with her words, his heart nearly dripping to the bottom of his stomach with every beat. He melts into Iwaizumi’s shoulder. 

“Thank god,” Iwaizumi says and squeezes his hand.

“Yup, your stitches are starting to heal, there’s no sign of sepsis, your insides look normal,” she lists through everything and Oikawa holds his breath waiting for a “but” or something else to change all the good into a bad. But it doesn’t come. 

“You can go home tomorrow,” she says and Oikawa smiles and squeezes Iwaizumi’s hand so hard he starts to whine. The doctor laughs and bows her head.

“For now just rest some more, and make sure to get up and walk every now and then,” 

Oikawa nods his head aggressively, his heart fluttering around inside him. 

When the doctor’s gone, Oikawa tries to calm himself, knowing he has to rest. Iwaizumi tells him to read for a bit while he proofs his article one last time and sends it. Oikawa barely hears him as he opens his book, thinking about home. You’d think he’s been gone for weeks, not three days. But when you’re trapped in a place like a hospital, 3 days feel like they’ve lasted forever. 

Oikawa stares at his book, the words filtering in and then out without triggering a thought. As soon as his stitches heal he wants to take a bath with Iwaizumi, he can’t wait to sit in the bath. But first he wants to take a nap in their bed, right at 3 o'clock, when the sun floods in hot through their window, and you don’t need a blanket to be warm. He shifts around in his bed, his back aching. He can’t wait to be able to sit naked in bed. He glances at Iwaizumi typing a few letters on his computer, biting his thumbnail. He can’t wait to sit naked and press into Iwaizumi’s side. Feel his heartbeat through his ribs. 

His body feels impossibly uncomfortable in his bed, his smile unable to leave his lips. He’s restless. His shoulders shrugging and attempting to shake off his racing heart. He looks back and forth, glancing between the book and Iwaizumi. He tries to remember the plot of this story, but when he looks at the page the first word is the word “home” and he can’t seem to get past it without distraction. 

Iwaizumi types the last word. He’s hyper-aware of Oikawa’s eyes, fluttering back and forth out of excitement. But his fingers slide around on the keyboard as fast as he can type the characters out as well as he can. He had already read it a couple of hours ago, but now his eyes are awake again and he’s making the final corrections before emailing it. All they’re doing now is waiting ‘til morning when it’s time to go home. But time passes idly. Without any consideration for their desires. 

6:00 pm. 

Oikawa eventually submits himself to staring at the pages and letting the thoughts pass easily through his brain. He doesn’t read the words but looks at their forms. He presses a finger over them, their curves and straight lines, he can see, but not feel them. He wonders if he’d recognize them if he could feel them. His heart isn’t racing anymore but his muscles refuse to stay still.

He’s staring at the book when he notices Iwaizumi’s stopped typing. But before he can look over, Iwaizumi is there taking the book from his hands and leaning down pressing his lips to Oikawa’s. Oikawa closes his eyes on instinct, and Iwaizumi’s lips feel soft, his scent dull and warm as Oikawa sucks in his air. His fingers, left empty by the departure of the book, move up to cup the sides of Iwaizumi’s face. 

Oikawa smiles against Iwaizumi’s lips, as they part and pull on his own. Oikawa pulls Iwaizumi down until his nose sinks into Iwaizumi’s cheek, and his tongue pokes out to touch his lip. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” Iwaizumi whispers pulling away too soon, but quickly pecking again on Oikawa’s cheek. 

“I thought you had to finish your article?” Oikawa asks. He pulls Iwaizumi’s lips back towards his brushing the skin together, reaching for him with his parted lips.

“Just sent it in, so let’s go for a walk,” Iwaizumi’s eyes focus on Oikawa’s and Oikawa feels himself freeze up under their full attention; his cheeks heat up. He nods and Iwaizumi pulls him out of the bed. 

He’s still dressed in the gown from the scan, so he takes a moment to change back into his day clothes from before. Iwaizumi leaves to ask the nurse at the station a question. He waits for Oikawa until he’s ready.

Iwaizumi’s phone buzzes, and he checks it to see an email from his editor, saying she’ll start reading. He’s not looking forward to her notes. So he turns off the phone and shoves it in his pocket. Oikawa rounds the corner and takes Iwaizumi’s hand just as it leaves his pocket. 

“Where to?” Oikawa asks, looking around at the hall that’s beginning to empty out. He’s nearly seen the entire floor, so he tries to think of somewhere else they could walk.

“I have something in mind,” Iwaizumi says and nods his head in the direction of the elevator. Iwaizumi presses the button to go down, and Oikawa tries to press him for information, his curiosity tugging at him. But Iwaizumi won’t budge. 

They take the elevator down to the first floor, and Oikawa almost thinks Iwaizumi is teasing him with making it look like they’re going home. As he’s lead down the hall, through the front door, and out into the light blue evening. 

“Iwa-chan where are we going,” Oikawa says and pulls on Iwaizumi’s hand but he just pulls back and Oikawa’s lurched forward in the direction he leads. 

“Just wait and see, I saw it yesterday, through a window while looking for coffee,” he says and Oikawa tries to imagine what he could have possibly seen. 

They turn the corner and Oikawa stops, Iwaizumi by his side watching his reaction. 

The garden exists on the side of the building, with a wood archway at its entrance. Classic and just a little cliche the garden is filled with everything you’d expect in a Japan, down to the little red bridge over a koi pond.

“Come on,” Iwaizumi says and squeezes Oikawa’s hand. It feels, by the way Iwaizumi hid it from him, like he’s supposed to be overjoyed, but it’s really a normal garden, with everyday people. But when Oikawa looks up at Iwaizumi as they pass under the arch, as he takes in the whole garden, he’s absorbed in the excitement of seeing it with him .

“I saw it and thought you’d like it,” Iwaizumi says and pulls Oikawa’s hand up to his bicep so that their arms hook together. Oikawa’s mind flashes forward to a vision of a moment he hopes he gets to live, when they’re old and always walk arm in arm like this. His cheeks heat up and spread all down his neck and shoulders, and chest. He’s feverish with Iwaizumi’s eyes on him. 

“Hajime, it’s beautiful,” Oikawa whispers and they find the beginning of the swirling path. 

Iwaizumi points out all the flowers he think are beautiful and Oikawa agrees with each one and adds his own to the list. He looks up into the trees at a couple of crows who’ve made a nest and Oikawa points them out.

“You know crows still make me think of Karasuno,” He says and they stare at the birds for a moment. 

“You always have had an unhealthy memory for things like that,” Iwaizumi says and is the first to look away. They keep walking and Oikawa eventually forgets the birds nesting in the trees and takes to staring at the fish. They’re colorful and he wonders about all the colors they come in. 

“What are you thinking?” Iwaizumi whispers and Oikawa just points to the fish.

“Fish, they’re colorful,” He says and feels like a child, and giggles as Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows and nods like it’s the most obvious thing about koi fish, which it very much is.  

“How’d your article turn out?” Oikawa asks turning his attention to Iwaizumi. They keep walking. 

Iwaizumi mulls over the thoughts he had while writing, and he shrugs. His writing, he feels, has never been anything extraordinary, no matter what Oikawa says. His prose are long and only barely sufferable, his attention to detail is adequate but he tries his best.

“It probably came out amazing” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi stops thinking. He had wanted Oikawa to read it but didn’t have time to ask before he fell asleep. But when he speaks, Oikawa’s voice is as sure as he would be saying the stars are beautiful. Iwaizumi smiles and nods.

“Yeah, it was pretty good,” He whispers. 

The evening dawns on the small garden with whispers of the night creatures, and varied pockets of sounds from the water bubbling, to the lonely bird calling for dinner. A rare early rising owl hoots from his hidden spot in the trees and Oikawa sees they’re quickly being absorbed in all of the garden’s life. 

They walk single file across the small bridge of the pond, curving over the heads of the koi fish. They all look up for food, and Oikawa looks down to apologize. 

“Sorry, we’re foodless,” he whispers and they blink at him, with bulging black eyes, their lips gaping. 

“They look like you,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi hits his shoulder, pressing the tips of his fingers to the small of Oikawa’s back to keep him moving. Oikawa giggles to himself as he hops from the edge of the bridge and waits for Iwaizumi to take his hand again. 

“This reminds me of that garden we went to, in uni,” Oikawa whispers, and he spots a bench where they take a seat.

“That was the Koishikawa-korakuen garden, in Tokyo,” Iwaizumi says. Oikawa pulls his legs up onto the bench, holding tight to his ankle. He looks up at the trees and leans on Iwaizumi.  

“It was beautiful in the fall,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi nods in agreement wrapping his arm around Oikawa.  

“All I really remember of it is Mattsun and Makki getting lost and we spent the whole garden trip looking for them,” Iwaizumi mumbles and thinks back to leading Oikawa around while searching. He doesn’t remember much of the garden. 

“Hehe, yeah, those two always were sneaking off and then getting lost,” Oikawa says. His mind drifts to the words Makki had spoken today, and he wonders where those two are now.

“I can’t believe we all ended up together,” Oikawa says. They were a group that somehow fell in love and made it through together. It’s rare to see that. 

“How many years do you think they’re celebrating?” Oikawa asks, and he glances from the sky to Iwaizumi who’s watching a bird peck at the dirt. 

“Mmm, well their first date, was... a year, before ours?” Iwaizumi says and looks at his fingers, counting.

“Oh no I made you do math!” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi shushes him but he struggles to hold back his laughter.

“Nine years?” Iwaizumi asks, trying to count back and Oikawa’s giggles get louder and louder until he just shrugs not willing to count himself. 

“I don’t know, a long time,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa laughs so loud a few birds fly out of the tree.

“Shhhh,” Iwaizumi says 

“You’re scaring the garden,” and Oikawa tries to snuff out his laughter but Iwaizumi doesn’t help by giggling with him.

“Yeah, a long time,” Oikawa says, and tries to remember their first date. It’s hazy, but he remembers his cheeks hurt when he got home, he had smiled too much for too long. He remembers he came home with his shirt on backward and his mother scolded him cause she thought he had had sex. They had taken the train to a festival down by the water. That was where they had their second kiss, and Oikawa had ended up taking his shirt off. They almost got caught. 

“Do you remember our first date?” Oikawa asks and shifts his shoulder into Iwaizumi’s chest. His cheeks flushing at even the vague memory of it. 

“Of course I do,” Iwaizumi says. He takes Oikawa’s hand and turns it over so his palm faces up. He runs a finger across the lines carved in. 

“It was the 12th of June, at 11 am, we rode the train out to the coast, and you sat impossibly close to me, I thought I would spontaneously combust from blushing so hard. You grabbed my hand first when we got off the train, and you saw the water,” Iwaizumi starts, and Oikawa’s taken aback at all he remembers. Iwaizumi’s eyes lost in the memory. Oikawa can see the pink heat rising in his cheeks. 

“It was really hot that day, and your hand kept getting sweaty but every time you tried to pull it away I’d grab it again a few seconds later. You got obsessed with that fish-catching stall.” Iwaizumi keeps whispering and nodding and Oikawa’s mind flashes through it all. 

“I wanted one so badly,” 

“We stood there for at least an hour before you gave up,” Iwaizumi bites his lower lip. 

“We stayed all afternoon, and when the sun started going down we sat on the beach. You watched the sunset as I watched you, and when you turned I somehow got the courage to kiss you. And then you pulled me down into the sand and I honestly don’t know how I survived. I swore I was going to die, my heart was racing so fast.” Iwaizumi’s lips break into a smile and his fingers shadow trace over Oikawa’s. 

“That was the first time we ever made out,” 

“And I took my shirt off,” 

“Oh god, you took your shirt off in the middle of the beach and my face felt so red, my heart almost exploded. I literally thought I was having a heart attack,” Iwaizumi laughs and his hand sinks into Oikawa’s. 

“You remember all of it,” Oikawa says in disbelief, and almost feels embarrassed by how blurry the memory is for him. 

“You were perfect that night,” Iwaizumi says, 

“I remember... everything,” Iwaizumi says and meets Oikawa’s eyes. Oikawa stares and feels his heart thump against his chest.  

“Why haven’t we gotten married?” Oikawa blurts out and for a moment he wants to take it back, his cheeks heating up like a flame, and Iwaizumi is equally shocked at the question. But then Iwaizumi just smiles, his eyes softening. 

“Social constructs I guess,” He jokes and the wonder in Oikawa’s eyes flattens and his shoulders sink. 

“Ha-ha,” Oikawa mimics and Iwaizumi chuckles. 

“I don’t know, I guess, life has just gotten away from us,” Iwaizumi says. He looks up to the sky and sees the light tint of pink as the sunset breaks open the evening. Oikawa thinks about all the reasons he hasn’t proposed, and the possible ones Iwaizumi might have. He thinks about the reasons, and his thoughts come up blank. 

“Come on, I wanna show you something,” Iwaizumi says and takes Oikawa’s hand. Life has just gotten away from them. They’ve been enjoying being happy without thinking of any next step. 

Iwaizumi leads Oikawa out of the garden and back into the hospital building. Through a new door and a new elevator, and Oikawa wonders how Iwaizumi’s gotten to know his way around the hospital so well, so quickly. Oikawa expects them to take the elevator to the third floor but Iwaizumi presses the button to the top floor. Oikawa hasn’t seen the top floor. The building isn’t too tall only 6 floors, but when they reach the top Iwaizumi pulls Oikawa by his hand down the hall. 

He stops them before they turn a corner and turns to Oikawa. 

“Close your eyes,” he whispers and Oikawa glances around them, the floor seems to be empty and he can’t seem to figure out why, but he does as Iwaizumi says. 

Iwaizumi takes both of Oikawa’s hands and slowly leads him around the corner. Each step Oikawa takes he tries to glance out of one eye but Iwaizumi scolds him until they reach half way down the hall. Iwaizumi turns Oikawa and stands behind him. Oikawa can feel his breath on the back of his ear and it makes his gasp and sends a shiver down his spine. 

“Okay, open your eyes,” Iwaizumi whispers and Oikawa lets his lids slide open. 

On the top floor, in the center of an empty hall there is a couch, and across from that couch is an expansive window. That window faces west, and in the evening when Oikawa opens his eyes, a skyline he’s never seen before is on fire with a kiss from the sun. It’s a living painting of oranges and purples and pinks, hints of blue still shining through between the clouds that streak like blazing trails of daylight. The world is absorbed in it. It no longer existed just on the horizon it was half the view, the entire planet washed in colors Oikawa never knew existed in sunsets.

“Oh wow,” He whispers and he reaches a hand back for Iwaizumi. His legs are wobbly and he needs to sit down, and without saying a word Iwaizumi pulls him back. They fall together onto the couch Oikawa in Iwaizumi’s lap. 

“How—” Oikawa’s almost breathless the light so warm even through the glass. 

“How did you find this,” he asks and he feels Iwaizumi shrug. 

“Looking for coffee again,” He says and Oikawa leans into the sound of his voice pressed into the skin of his neck. 

“It’s”

“Beautiful,” Iwaizumi speaks the words Oikawa can’t finish and somehow it’s both right and wrong, not enough to describe it. He’s not sure he has such an extensive vocabulary to do so. 

He leans back into Iwaizumi’s chest and feels his heartbeat inside. It’s racing. Iwaizumi wraps his arms under Oikawa’s, around his waist into a hug. His chin rests on his shoulder. 

“Tell me again,” Iwaizumi says. His lips graze the curl of Oikawa’s ear, and all his little hairs stand on end. 

“Why do you love sunsets so much,” And Oikawa sucks in a breath. 

“Because I love the colors,” Oikawa says and it’s the truth, but not the entire one. Iwaizumi nuzzles Oikawa’s neck, brushing his lips up the path that connects to his jaw. 

“And what’s the real reason?” he whispers, and Oikawa’s breath becomes shaky. He closes his eyes and leans into Iwaizumi’s lips, rolling his head. He tries to find his words again. 

“Sunsets, are— there’s a warmth to them like nothing else.” He whispers and Iwaizumi hums against his skin. 

“They remind me of love, and how a certain person makes me feel when nothing else matters or exists. When I’m close to them, that warmth and the sunset’s is exactly the same,” Oikawa’s words slip effortlessly into the air. He opens his eyes and stares into the dull fading sun on the edge of the world.

“But mostly for the colors,” Iwaizumi says and squeezes Oikawa in his embrace. Oikawa smiles; the sun takes its final breath.

“Yeah, mostly for the colors.”

They watch the clouds move towards the sun as it dips over the edge of Japan, and Oikawa feels his heart sink into his chest when it’s gone. The day dying out and his body ready for tomorrow. His skin shivers with the excitement again. 

He pushes off of Iwaizumi’s thighs to stand and turns to see Iwaizumi’s eyes big in the city lights, looking up at him. Oikawa smiles and reaches a hand out to trace his fingers across his cheek. Iwaizumi catches his hand there and leans into it. 

“Thank you, for this,” Oikawa whispers and Iwaizumi smiles.

“Of course...anything, for you,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa smiles, taking his hand back. He pokes a finger to Iwaizumi’s forehead.

“Cheesy,” and Oikawa turns back towards the elevator. Iwaizumi laughs and jumps up to follow him. They find their way back to Oikawa’s room, and Oikawa sighs when he sees his bed, with new sheets on the same stiffening mattress. 

He walks past the bed straight into the bathroom to brush his teeth, not bothering to touch the dinner he forgot about on the tray. He can’t think of food right now. Iwaizumi glances at the clock.

7:32 pm.

Iwaizumi picks up the scattered little pieces of their lives that they’ve moved into the room, and bundles them back in the bag. He tries to remember the list of items he packed. He pulls the curtain closed over the window to the hall as Oikawa comes out of the bathroom wiping the water dripping from his cheek. 

He wants to feel tired, he wants his body to feel heavy with sleep, but it doesn’t. His eyes watch Iwaizumi with wide attention. His thoughts hum and buzz inside his head, on the tip of his tongue ready to be spoken until he can’t anymore. He sits down in the bed and holds his knees loose against his chest. He tries to make them relax. 

Iwaizumi sets the duffel bag down next to Oikawa and digs through it for his toothbrush.

“Can we watch a movie?” Oikawa asks and reaches for the computer in the bag before Iwaizumi answers.

“Sure, you not tired yet?” He asks and Oikawa sighs, shaking his head. He opens the laptop and logs into Netflix and starts to scroll through their queue. 

“Pick whatever you want babe, I’ll be out in a sec,” Iwaizumi says and closes the bathroom door. 

Oikawa thumbs through the stream of movies trying to avoid their instant play images with his mouse. He listens to the sound of Iwaizumi running the water and changing as he reads descriptions of the movies he can’t remember. He doesn’t want one too interesting, he wants one soft, one that’ll help him relax, but none of those you can type into the search box. So he continues to scroll. 

When Iwaizumi comes out of the bathroom, Oikawa’s scrolling through the LGBT section, trying to decide between two drama movies. They’re foreign and their descriptions are of little help to know what they’re about. 

“You pick a movie?” Iwaizumi asks, but when Oikawa looks up at him he’s looking down organizing the bag, his hair sticking to his forehead, glistening. 

“Um, no not yet, I'm stuck between these two,” Oikawa says and looks away when Iwaizumi’s eyes meet his. His heart jumps a little. 

“Which two,” Iwaizumi asks and moves the duffel off his seat so he can sit. He scoots closer to Oikawa. He leans in and Oikawa gets hit with the light scent of Iwaizumi’s face wash, and the cool feeling of the water evaporating off of him. Oikawa didn’t even know that was a thing, but it was making his body feel weak, and his heart shaky. 

“Um, these two, they’re both gay and I wanted something soft, so...” Oikawa says and feels his cheeks pinken with his blush, not at all helped by the closeness of Iwaizumi’s cheek to Oikawa’s lips. 

“Well, what do you feel like watching?” Iwaizumi asks and backs away to dig his hand towel out of the bag. He rubs his wet hair with it, trying to get it as dry as possible. 

“Did you take a shower?” Oikawa asks, distracted. 

“No, I just rinsed my hair real quick, I’ll shower when we get home tomorrow,” Iwaizumi’s face is covered by the towel and Oikawa sees glimpses of it come in and out of view, his cheeks a little red. He lets the towel fall to his shoulders. 

“So which one?” Iwaizumi says and nods at the computer. Oikawa had forgotten about the movies in a second but he looks at their pictures side by side. 

“I don’t know, you pick,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi sighs a little. He takes about 3 seconds before he presses a finger to the screen to the movie on the right.

“That one,” He says and Oikawa nods, clicking it. Iwaizumi makes a slow dash to turn out the lights, the door to the room already closed. Then takes his seat again in the chair. He stretches his shoulders and back before sitting back in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position. 

Oikawa shifts away from Iwaizumi in the bed, making space. He pulls back the blanket and pats the bed next to him. 

“Sit,” He says and Iwaizumi hesitates, even in the dark he can see it in his eyes. 

“Come on,” Oikawa whines and reaches across the bed for his arm, pulling on Iwaizumi’s bicep until he gives in. 

“Am I aloud—” 

“Who cares, I want you to,” Oikawa pouts and Iwaizumi lets out a sound that’s a mix between a chuckle and a sigh, his lips pressing into a thin line of a smile. He leans a knee on the bed and climbs in, still fully clothed in his joggers and black t-shirt. 

He slides in next to Oikawa and puts his arm around his shoulder, pressing him to his body and breathing in his closeness. Oikawa’s body heats up as he’s pulled closer and his fingers tangle into the fabric of Iwaizumi’s shirt. He leans his head on his chest and they start to read the captions. 

The movie follows the characters on a farm and Oikawa sucks in a breath as the tension builds. The computer shakes a little as Oikawa moves his leg, rubbing his toes against Iwaizumi’ calf. His feet are cold and it feels like Oikawa hasn’t been this close to Iwaizumi in days. He can barely breathe being this close. But he wants to be closer. Oikawa tries to focus on the characters, but their obliviousness is starting to annoy him.  

“Just kiss already,” Oikawa whispers and pulls tighter to Iwaizumi’s waist.

“They remind me of us in high school,” 

“We were not this oblivious in high school,” Oikawa says and just as he does the two men on screen finally kiss and Oikawa lets out an exasperated gasp.

“Oh my god they kissed,” and Iwaizumi laughs. Oikawa says they weren’t oblivious but Iwaizumi still holds the memories of all the times he wondered if Oikawa liked him even as he stood so close he could smell him. Even as both their cheeks burned redder than the raspberry chapstick Oikawa used to wear. It’s still his favorite color, the color of those lips. He squeezes Oikawa against him again, and Oikawa looks up.

“What?” He can barely see Oikawa in the dark, but the blue glow highlighting his cheekbones and eyes makes him look like magic. Iwaizumi brushes the hair back from his forehead. 

“Nothing,” He says and Oikawa turns back to the movie pressing his ear to Iwaizumi’s chest. 

“Well that escalated quickly,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi focuses on the movie again, the two men now naked in the grass. Oikawa listens to the sound of Iwaizumi’s laugh through his chest. It sounds just as warm as he feels.

Oikawa’s not used to lying in bed with Iwaizumi like this, he’s not used to having pants on; to being fully clothed this close in bed. Approximately 1 centimeter apart; just two pairs of joggers, and their underwear, and their shirts apart. He wants to be home. Oikawa wants to be home and be in bed. In their bed and take all their clothes off, and lie there like they always do and watch movies and feel Iwaizumi’s skin against his. Iwaizumi’s hand drawing circles on Oikawa’s back.

Oikawa settles into the warmth of Iwaizumi’s body, his hand sneaking its way under his shirt; he rests his palm just under his heart. He can feel his body getting heavier, the movie being chopped into pieces as it goes on. He’s losing track of the plot. 

Towards the end of the movie, Iwaizumi can feel Oikawa asleep on his chest. He closes the laptop, making sure to not make a sound. Over the years, he’s perfected the skill of moving without waking Oikawa, but as he slides the laptop onto his chair, and tries to shift out of Oikawa’s grasp Oikawa’s hands hold tighter to his shirt. He moans and Iwaizumi stiffens. 

“Mmmm, Hajime,” Oikawa whispers and Iwaizumi sighs. 

“Hey, go back to sleep, I’m just moving to the chair,” But as soon as Iwaizumi says it Oikawa’s hands hold even tighter.

“N, stay,” His eyes try to open but are too heavy with sleep to fully look at Iwaizumi. But his hands; his hands dig grooves into his skin. 

“Sssf” Oikawa sniffles. 

“Stay, please,” He whispers not thinking and Iwaizumi sinks back into him.

“Don’t say please,” he whispers 

“You don’t have to,” Iwaizumi doesn’t want to get in trouble if they’re not allowed to be like this, but it wouldn’t be the first time he ignores any rules for the sake of Oikawa. 

“I’ll stay,” He whispers, and sinks down next to him until their faces are side by side. They fit in the bed, even with their big bodies, they fit comfortably on the mattress and Iwaizumi pulls Oikawa close. His eyes are open now, and they have tears sitting in their corners. 

“You really miss our bed don’t you?” Iwaizumi asks and wipes away one of the tears from his cheek. Oikawa nods his head and bends it forwards to press to Iwaizumi’s collarbone. 

“I miss sleeping in it with you,” he whispers and Iwaizumi’s lips curl into a smile.

“Well, we’ll be home tomorrow, and I’ll hold you as you nap as long as you want,” Iwaizumi whispers. He yawns and Oikawa slides his hands under Iwaizumi’s shirt running his fingers over the curve of his spine. And their minds both muddle with the pleasing thought of being home together as they fall asleep. 

-

-

-

Oikawa comes out of the bathroom, with his clips in his hair. They needed to be ready to leave almost an hour ago, but Oikawa is still doing his hair.
“Babe, we’ve gotta get going, Mattsun and Makki are waiting,” Iwaizumi says and pushes the black stud through his earlobe. He likes to wear it when they go somewhere nice. Oikawa comes up behind him. 

“Mmm, I love it when you wear those,” He says and wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s shoulders. He presses his lips to the side of Iwaizumi’s neck. 

“You always look hot,” Oikawa whispers the last sentence into his ear and bites his lip. 

Iwaizumi turns around to face him, resting his hands on his hips.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks and runs his thumb over where he knows the scar is on his stomach. His eyes glance down. Oikawa wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck and hangs off of him, his smile spreads into laughter that fills the air and Iwaizumi smiles.

“You’re not in any pain?” Iwaizumi asks and Oikawa just keeps laughing.

“Tooru, answer me, I need you to say it,” Iwaizumi’s smile starts to fall. 

“I love you,” Oikawa whispers and pulls Iwaizumi into a kiss but as he presses to him Iwaizumi feels the warmth spread over his hand.

“Mh,” Iwaizumi pulls away, the warmth is spreading. His fingers wet and burning.

“I love you,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi looks down, the blood is pooling over his fingers, and Iwaizumi can’t press it in. It seeps through Oikawa’s shirt and Iwaizumi grabs whatever he can and presses it to Oikawa’s stomach and side. His stitches have torn open, and as he peels away the shirt he can see inside. He can see inside Oikawa’s abdomen. 

“Iwa-chan...” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi can hear it in his voice, he can hear him fading. The blood spills onto the floor with a deafening splatter that drowns out the words between Oikawa’s lips. He can see them. He can see Oikawa’s lips moving and he squints, looking back and forth from the blood to his face. 

“Tooru, TOORU!” Iwaizumi tries to shout but the blood, the blood is everywhere and Iwaizumi’s tears start to bubble over onto his cheeks. He sucks in a breath, and another and another.

“Iwa-chan, I—” 

“I—” He hears it finally but not completely and then— 

“Huh-hu! Tooru!,” Iwaizumi sucks in a breath as his consciousness hits his body like a weight to his chest. Each breath after is heavy. He sinks into the bed, his eyes staring straight across to Oikawa’s cheeks. 

Oikawa takes a deep breath that shakes halfway through, his head turns. Iwaizumi can see his eyes move under his lids. He’s still dreaming. 

Iwaizumi pulls the blankets back a little. Oikawa’s lying on his back with his head turned, and Iwaizumi snakes his hand around his waist. He pulls up Oikawa’s shirt and there just around from his stomach to his side is the ray of stitches sewn up in his skin. His hand shakes over it, and his breath is still barely in his lungs. Iwaizumi brushes his fingers over it, and despite everything his mind is trying to convince him, his eyes and the staggered feel of Oikawa’s soft skin prove it wrong. 

“It was—just a dream,” He whispers, 

“Just a dream,” he sighs.  

Before he can pull his hand away Oikawa’s comes up and presses Iwaizumi’s hand flat against his skin. Iwaizumi’s eyes meet Oikawa’s barely awake and staring at him in the dark.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa sucks in another breath trying to stifle a yawn. He keeps Iwaizumi’s hand on his becoming scar. And shakes his head. A crease forms between his eyebrows and his hand comes up to Iwaizumi’s face.

“You’re crying,” Oikawa’s voice is still rasped with sleep but his eyes grow more and more awake with each second. Oikawa wipes away at the tear streaks on Iwaizumi’s cheeks. 

“Yeah, I just—” He swallows the held breath in his lungs and sighs. 

“I just had a bad dream, that’s all,” Iwaizumi whispers and Iwaizumi tries to chase away the need to cry more but all it does is well up into tears on the corners of his eyes. Oikawa sighs, Iwaizumi reaches a hand up for Oikawa and falls towards him until their lips find each other in the dark. Iwaizumi’s cheeks are still damp, and his lips are dry. Both their mouths taste like sleep. Oikawa pulls away.
“You’re scared,” Oikawa makes a whispered guess and when Iwaizumi doesn’t deny it right away Oikawa knows he’s right. 

“I’m terrified, Tooru,” Iwaizumi says, and his heart chases after the tears, growing heavier with each beat. 

“I don’t— I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you— I can’t, I can’t lose you,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa bites his lips. 

“Not now,” 

Oikawa can’t find the words in his still yawning mind, so he moves closer until his nose presses to Iwaizumi’s collar bone, he pushes his leg between Iwaizumi’s, knitting them together like yarn. He whispers the only thing he can think of as he breathes in Iwaizumi’s scent. 

“I’m here, Hajime... forever.”

-

-

-

Day 4 

Iwaizumi hadn’t even realized when he fell asleep. But when he wakes up and the room is flooding with daylight he realizes he must have. Oikawa rests with his back to Iwaizumi, their bodies curving together in the smallish bed. Iwaizumi can hear his hands fiddling with something. 

“Morning,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa’s shoulders perk up.

“Morning!” Oikawa almost shouts and turns over as Iwaizumi slings his arm around his waist. Iwaizumi glances at the clock. 

8:12 am. 

Oikawa smiles up at Iwaizumi without saying anything, and Iwaizumi waits. He traces the fractured lines in Oikawa’s eyes, the small gold flecks beaming in the light. 

“Did you sleep alright?” Iwaizumi finally asks and Oikawa nods but his arms get tighter around Iwaizumi. 

“Except for a certain someone touching me in the middle of the night...” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi gives him an apologetic smile and sigh. Oikawa doesn’t take it. He sits up and hovers there over Iwaizumi and holds his face between his long-fingered hands. Iwaizumi stares straight into his eyes as the words whisper in his ears. 

“You won’t ever lose me, Hajime,” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi smiles and nods. Oikawa presses his lips to him, and Iwaizumi takes his faithful promise with it. 

Iwaizumi could have sat there, like that, for a thousand hours, Oikawa in his pajamas, hovering over him, calling all of his attention, their lips pressed together. But Oikawa pulls away and quickly fills the room with his excitement to go home. 

Oikawa talks as he walks to the bathroom, digging his vanity bag out of the duffel on last time. He’s talking about Iwaizumi’s cooking.
“Well we’ll have to ask the doctor but I’m certain I can cook you something at home,” Iwaizumi says. He sits back on the pillows trying to think up the recipes when Oikawa comes out of the bathroom. 

“Come on! Get up, let's go,” He says and pulls on Iwaizumi’s hand, pulling him out of the bed and Iwaizumi stumbles along with him. 

Oikawa’s excitement pours out of him, his face brighter than ever as he’s moving about the room, leaving Iwaizumi behind to follow. And as the nurse brings them their discharge papers and the doctor sits with them on the edge of the bed, Iwaizumi can feel Oikawa holding his breath.

“So you’re gonna have to make sure to rest, inspect the incision site for infection,” the doctor says and the nurse hands Oikawa a paper with a list and pictures, of what to look for and what to do if he notices anything. Oikawa glances at the paper, nodding, before handing it to Iwaizumi. 

“But we also want you to get up and walk around every day, make sure to be moving, but if you feel like taking a nap, take a nap.” she glances at her list. 

“We’re gonna give you one bottle of pain meds, non-addictive so you should be okay, but take them if you’re in pain, and you should be out of the woods with that in about a week,” the nurse hands Iwaizumi a small paper with the doctor’s signature. 

“So...” the doctor starts and Oikawa and Iwaizumi both look up from their papers.

“Sex,” She says and Iwaizumi’s eyes widen then look away as the blush spreads across his cheeks. His toes curl in his socks and he glances at Oikawa. His ears are red. 

“You can have it, when Oikawa feels physically ready, again nothing strenuous, but after a week or two you won’t have to worry about much.” 

“And then no alcohol for at least 2 weeks, no strenuous work, and again come in at any sign of infection.” she sums up quickly, her own face getting a little red. She hands them a pen, and Iwaizumi moves to sit next to Oikawa as he fills out the papers, his name, and date of birth, and the eventual signature at the bottom. 

He hands the papers off to the nurse and bounces a little on the edge of the bed as she bows, following the doctor out of the room.

“I’ll be back to wheel you out,” the nurse says and bows one last time at the door. Oikawa is frozen on the bed when they leave looking back and forth from the door to Iwaizumi. His hands clench and unclench as he sucks in a breath. 

Iwaizumi presses a kiss to Oikawa’s temple, rubbing his shoulder to warm up his excitement. And he pops off the bed as soon as the smile spreads across his lips. He hits Iwaizumi thigh as he stands and starts picking up their things still left out of the bag. 

Iwaizumi helps him change one last time, into fresh clothes that are very much similar to the ones he was already wearing except his shirt is his favorite shade of blue. And when the nurse comes back with a wheelchair, Oikawa and Iwaizumi are waiting anxiously on the bed. 

The nurse offers the wheelchair handles to Iwaizumi and he takes them with a nod.

“Thought you might want to do the honors,” She says and winks at him. She follows close to their side reminding them of what to do if they see anything on the incision sight. Iwaizumi makes sure to listen because he knows all Oikawa is focusing on is how far away the door is. 

When they exit the elevator, the nurse has finished speaking, and Oikawa sits quieter than Iwaizumi has ever seen him. Oikawa counts. He counts the wheels as they turn, and glances left and right. He counts how many steps Iwaizumi takes. Until they’re passed the door. He dares something to stop him. To keep him from leaving, he dares life to try and then hopes with all his might that it doesn’t.

Oikawa barely remembers the night he was brought in, the pain swirling the memory into an emotion. He understands it happened, it terrifies him, but the visions only come in waves and feelings. He does not know if the car is just as they had left it, he does not know if this is the same entrance they came through. But as he crosses the sliding doors, and feels Iwaizumi lean down to his ear and whisper, 

“Ready to go home?” Oikawa doesn’t care. He’s leaving, and as the car gets closer with each step Iwaizumi takes, Oikawa can feel the heaviness in his heart leaving. 

“Yeah... home” he whispers, but only the morning wind and static from the highway hear him. 

Iwaizumi helps Oikawa out of the wheelchair and they wave the nurse goodbye as she takes it away. They’re left by the car again, counting all the steps before they can leave. 

1. Put the bag in the trunk.
2. Make sure Oikawa has his meds.
3. Adjust the seat belt because it presses on his side and it hurts. 
4. Kiss over the gear stick, because their excitement is too much to just smile about. 
5. Turn on the car.
6. Drive away.

Oikawa watches as the hospital fades into the bottom of their rearview mirror. And when it’s out of view he pulls out his phone. It rings three times after he dials the number. 

“Hello honey,” her voice comes in clear but busy and Oikawa only half feels bad for possibly interrupting her. She doesn’t wait for him to speak to dive into a conversation, asking if he’s left, if he’s missed home if he’s busy that night. And Oikawa starts to laugh as he tries to keep track of the questions.  

“Hi mom, yes I just left the hospital, Hajime and I are headed to the house, I’ve missed it very much, and I am not doing anything tonight cause again I just left the hospital,” he says and his mother feigns a laugh at his responses 

“I’m so happy you’re finally heading home honey,” she says and he can tell she’s comparing fabrics as she whispers to herself between sentences. 

“How’s your Iwaizumi?” she asks and Oikawa glances at him turning on his turn signal. 

“Good, still worried, like always,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi looks at him, knowing he’s now talking about him. 

“Well, he has always been one to worry about you,” she says

“I’m sad I didn’t get to see you leave, I was gonna visit you today,” Oikawa can almost picture her as she talks, staring out the window holding fabrics on her forearm. 

“Well you can still come see me,” he suggests and his mother gasps before he can add on to his sentence.

“Of course, I know that, but still... it’s the whole thing of the thing” his mother tries to make sense but she just makes him laugh. Her thoughts divided.  

“Anyway, how ‘bout you come over for dinner tonight?” she asks and there’s a shuffle as she switches the phone from one shoulder to the other.   

“Yeah, sure, we can do dinner,” he says and runs his hands through his hair. It’s a little stiff from not showering and he scrunches up his nose as his hand pulls out.

“Great... so why don’t you come over around 4:30 maybe, I’ll make something super light,” she says 

“Love you, sweetheart, see you then” and hangs up. Oikawa sets the phone down on his lap with a sigh and closes his eyes. His mother is the same as always a woman too busy but always trying to balance. 

“She roped you into dinner again didn’t she?” Iwaizumi’s voice pulls his attention and Oikawa looks to the ceiling nodding his head. 

“Yeah... but it’s okay,” He fiddles with the phone on his leg. 

“It’ll be nice... to get out” Oikawa glances at Iwaizumi.

“Yeah...” Iwaizumi says and reaches out for Oikawa’s hand, squeezing it. Oikawa leans his head on the window and watches the city rise and fall as they drive. Iwaizumi takes his hand back.

By the time they get home Oikawa’s cheek is pink from the sun hitting it through the window; from pressing it to the glass to feel its warmth. They pull into the driveway and Iwaizumi turns off the car, and for a moment they sit in silence. Oikawa’s shoulders shake a little as if he were dancing rather than quivering. He looks at Iwaizumi whose eyes are already waiting to connect with his. He sucks in a breath. 

“Come on,” Oikawa whispers and Iwaizumi just smiles. 

Oikawa waits for Iwaizumi by the door while he gathers the bags from the car. The door creaks, in its usual high pitched voice and Oikawa, greets it with a smile. The floor is cold from the air conditioning when they take off their shoes, and the air still smells of a vague mixture of his and Iwaizumi’s cologne. And as soon as he steps through the door, Oikawa’s shoulders relax.

The bag thumps on their floor when Iwaizumi drops it. Oikawa looks behind him at his boyfriend looking back at him. 

“Home sweet home,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa nods, fighting back the urge to tease him for being sappy and cliche. 

“No place like it,” Oikawa responds. 

Iwaizumi locks the door and comes up behind Oikawa with a hug. 

“Shall I say ‘welcome home’?” Iwaizumi whispers into Oikawa’s ear as they sway and Oikawa giggles airily. He pauses.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the door to their room half-open, the bed unkempt behind it. Their bed, behind the door. Oikawa pushes on Iwaizumi’s hands around him until he lets him free. He bounds up the couple steps, and takes off his shirt, letting it drop to the stairs. He pushes his thumbs into his waistband. 

“Tooru, what—” Iwaizumi stares, then sighs thoroughly convinced that the hospital made Oikawa crazy. Iwaizumi picks up Oikawa’s shirt as he climbs the stairs, then his pants following him into the bedroom. Before any time has passed Oikawa is in his underwear falling face-first into the blankets and sheets and pillows on their bed.  

“Hey, be careful!” Iwaizumi scolds throwing the clothes to the side as he stands over Oikawa. But Oikawa doesn’t respond. He turns and reaches for Iwaizumi’s hand, and pulls him down into the sheets with him. 

“Tooru...” Iwaizumi complains, but the worry and annoyance and surprise all float away in a single breath when Oikawa looks up with his smile. 

“Now you can say it,” Oikawa whispers cheek still pressed to the mattress. 

“Say what?” 

“Welcome home” Oikawa whispers, and Iwaizumi laughs. He tangles his fingers in Oikawa’s bangs, brushing them away from his face. He leans in to him. 

“Welcome home, Tooru,” Iwaizumi whispers and Oikawa sighs, letting his eyes close.

“It smells so clean,” he whispers, and Iwaizumi continues to stroke Oikawa’s hair, humming in response. 

Oikawa looks up. They’re switched from their usual spots in bed, Iwaizumi’s spot on the left and Oikawa’s on the right. Oikawa reaches up and takes Iwaizumi’s pillow from its spot and presses it to his chest, rolling onto his back.

“Mmm, I missed the smell of your pillow,” Oikawa says and smiles as he looks at Iwaizumi from the corner of his eye his face buried in the white pillow. 

“Why settle for the pillow when you have the person right here,” Iwaizumi whispers and wraps a hand around Oikawa’s wrist. He pulls the pillow out of Oikawa’s grasp and slides his arms around his waist, leaning on Oikawa’s chest. 

“Mmm, even better,” Oikawa smiles his lips playful as he opens and closes them and nibbles on his bottom lip. His cheeks are warm. 

He can feel their hearts burning against each other, like matches in their chests. Their ribs have scorch marks. But Oikawa can’t tell the difference between Iwaizumi’s heart and his. As Iwaizumi bends so their foreheads touch, and Oikawa’s body shakes like he’s not getting enough air. He laughs to force his breath out. It’s the warmth that reminds him, where he is. 

He could have fallen asleep there, napped in a silent eternity wrapped in Iwaizumi, but his stomach lurches at the last moment, the sound like a small monster complaining inside him. Iwaizumi snickers and then laughs and Oikawa can feel his chest bounce when he does. 

“You hungry?” Iwaizumi chuckles and Oikawa’s cheeks burn with a different heat than before. His lips pout on instinct, and he bites his cheek to keep from smiling. He nods. 

“Come,” Iwaizumi says and pats a hand to the bed as he gets up.  

Oikawa follows Iwaizumi out of the room, trotting behind him on his toes down the stairs and into their kitchen. 

“Let’s see,” Iwaizumi says as Oikawa slides into the seats at their little kitchen bar. 

Iwaizumi digs through the fridge for something easy he can make, that Oikawa can eat without trouble. But they had needed to go to the store before that night and they still need to do so now, the only thing on the shelves in the fridge being a carton of milk, and eggs. Iwaizumi pulls them out and finds a pan. 

“You feel like eggs?” Iwaizumi asks and Oikawa shrugs not in the mood for anything specific, really, as long as Iwaizumi cooks it.  

“Well you’re gonna have to be cause it’s all we got,”

Oikawa leans forward on his elbow slipping one leg under his body on the chair as Iwaizumi turns on the burner and cracks an egg into the pan.
“I think we also have some rice in the pantry,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi tilts his head back to glance. He opens the pantry and grabs the floppy bag of rice. 

“Do you wanna make the rice?” Iwaizumi asks as the eggs start to sizzle.

Oikawa unfolds his legs to unstick them from the chair and takes the bag from Iwaizumi. The rice cooker will take longer than the eggs, so Iwaizumi lowers the temperature of the stove to keep them warm while they wait. He pulls out some plates and tries not to bump into Oikawa as he moves, their kitchen almost too small for the both of them. For their broad shoulders, and strong arms, for Oikawa’s dancing feet and Iwaizumi’s stomping ones. They try not to step on one another and their knees shake when they bump shoulders. 

Iwaizumi chops a tomato, and Oikawa leans and shifts on the counter. It’s cold against his skin, he’s still naked in his underwear. He rocks on his toes and steps to the side when Iwaizumi tries to come close. They dance around each other between the counters until the rice is done, the eggs are fried and the tomatoes have gone soft on the plate. Oikawa piles the rice onto the plates then hands them off to Iwaizumi for the egg on top, the tomato on the side. 

“Hey wait!” Oikawa says when Iwaizumi takes off with both plates. 

“Chopsticks or fork?” Oikawa asks and grabs a pair of chopsticks for himself. 

“Fork!” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa shakes his head before grabbing the silver utensil and chasing after him letting the drawer slam. 

Iwaizumi places the plates on the table in front of their couch and sits down on the floor waiting for Oikawa to join him. When he does, Iwaizumi takes his fork and sets it by the plate exactly how Oikawa does with his chopsticks.  

“Thank you for the food,” Oikawa says and claps his hands quietly and Iwaizumi smiles. Oikawa cuts the egg with his chopsticks and brings a piece to his lips. He blows on it.  

“Thanks for the food,” Iwaizumi whispers, and leans over to kiss Oikawa’s cheek and the egg drops from between the sticks before Oikawa’s lips can touch it plopping onto the plate. Oikawa doesn’t say anything but he leans back and glares at Iwaizumi who chuckles and stuffs his egg into his mouth. Oikawa hits his shoulder and shakes his head. 

“Eat slower!” Oikawa scolds. More than half of Iwaizumi’s egg is gone and his cheeks bulge as he smiles. Oikawa picks up the piece that fell and pushes it into his mouth, the taste bitter, and rough, and better than the food from the past 3 days. Iwaizumi stares at Oikawa as he eats, mixing his rice with the little bit of yoke that leaks from his egg. He watches as Oikawa closes his eyes with each bite and sighs into the flavor. He takes bites of his own until the plate becomes clear, and they fill their stomach with food and their silence. Glancing at each other between bites.

Their air conditioner hums in the distance as the sun rays flutter onto and around the floor. Oikawa leans on one hand, his head falling to the side, his shoulder pressed up to Iwaizumi who sits in the same position. They push and pull on their wait and onto each other 

“This is it,” Oikawa whispers and Iwaizumi opens his eyes. The top of Oikawa’s head presses stiffly against his own, and he can feel how his hair brushes against his cheek. 

“This is what I missed,” Oikawa whispers again and his hand shifts. Out of the corner of his eye without moving his head Iwaizumi can see Oikawa’s hand reach for his, their fingers overlapping. The air conditioning turns off and the house grows warm again. 

The last thing Iwaizumi wanted to do was move, he could feel his bones protesting his tongue and breath hesitating. 

“I have some work—to do,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa shifts his weight. He feels him lean away and he closes his eyes when they part. 

“Sorry,” He says but Oikawa just nods his eyes sleepy now and gets up. Iwaizumi finds his computer in the duffel by the door and carries it to the couch. He has notes on the article he sent in, and a new one already assigned. He opens the email from his editor. 

Oikawa finds his way to the hall closet and opens it to the piles of sheets and blankets they’ve stored away. He pulls a blanket down, that was a gift from Mattsun and Makki, with little sheep on it. As he does the sound of a cardboard box claps on the wood shelf. Oikawa tilts his head and stands on the tips of his toes to see, but the shelf is too tall even for him. He reaches a hand, blindly, onto the shelf and searches for the object. When he finds it he digs his nails into it and tries to claw it towards him until he can grip one of the corners. 

It’s a puzzle box, the image almost familiar, but Oikawa can’t remember where they got it. He folds the blanket over his arm and places the box on top of it closing the closet. The picture is of a famous painting, but he doesn’t know the artist, he just knows the art. There are boats on the water and everything is quite colorful, it’s a peaceful painting.

Iwaizumi is already typing when Oikawa dumps the puzzle pieces onto the floor. It’s not too many pieces but enough to make a mess. He palms his hands over them, spreading them out on the floor, and starts flipping them over to the picture side. It’s been years since he’s done a puzzle, but he used to enjoy them when he was really young, he was good at finding their details. He wraps the blanket around his shoulders as he leans over and picks up the first edge piece. 

Iwaizumi’s words drone on in his mind as he takes out and rearranges quotes. He flips through his notes, looks at some photos he was given. He listens to Oikawa hum to a song that’s familiar as he types. He checks off the list of edits his editor asked for and reads through the article one last time. Oikawa whispers curses under his breath at the pieces that don’t fit and Iwaizumi laughs without looking up. He glances at the time. 

11:30 am. 

Iwaizumi clicks on the link for his next 3 assignments, the afternoon already too close for comfort with so little done. He checks the deadline, and sighs. 2 weeks. There’s a game he needs to attend, next week, on a Wednesday and a few more for later in the month. He needs to meet with one of the players, Iwaizumi recognizes a couple on the team, some of the colors in the uniform. It’s almost that time of the year again. Iwaizumi sits up to glance at Oikawa’s progress with the puzzle, the boarder almost complete. 

Oikawa jumps a little when Iwaizumi gets up to get his credit card, his heart dipping into his stomach and then up again bouncing into his throat. He was too focused on the pieces, he forgot he wasn’t alone. He places another piece onto the picture, part of the boat starting to come together. He looks at the box again, at the piece count, 500 shouldn’t be this big, he thinks. He reaches across the floor and a spark races up his side and he slaps a hand down hissing. Iwaizumi looks up, stopping where he stands.

“You okay?” he says quickly, and Oikawa leans back putting his arm down nodding. 

“Just stretched too far,” he whispers and pushes the bottom of the puzzle up instead of what he had intended before. Iwaizumi comes and stands next to Oikawa his hand reaching down into his hair. 

“Wow, you’ve gotten far,” Iwaizumi says and looks over the picture as the piece’s border and corners are almost complete, the center the only straggling section. 

“It’s soothing,” Oikawa hums and leans his head back. He feels calm when he’s focused on something, puzzles, or work, or strategizing, the tasks that pull all of his brain power were always the ones he felt calmest doing. Oikawa pulls the blanket tighter.

“I’m gonna buy tickets to the Tokyo Spring Qualifiers,” Iwaizumi says pulling out the card from his wallet and Oikawa’s eyes brighten. 

“Really?” And Iwaizumi nods leaving him to his puzzle again. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my next assignments so I thought we could go together,” Iwaizumi types in the number to his card. 

“Also got a baseball game next week, you wanna come to that too?” Iwaizumi asks and Oikawa’s face screws up as he thinks, he’s never been one for baseball.

“Okay, you can stay home alone then...” Iwaizumi mumbles and his eyes slide from the computer to Oikawa as his face falls at the idea of being left behind.

“Oh okay, fine,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi pumps his fist,

“Yes,” 

Iwaizumi has been fond of sports since highschool but every year as he’s put on the baseball season, he’s hated going to the games more and more. He’s also found that if he brings Oikawa along, it’s not as boring, and his constant complaining is more than entertaining. 

Oikawa shakes his head before turning back to the puzzle clipping in another piece. 

He spreads out the pieces more as fewer and fewer clutter the floor, and his head feels heavy, looking down at them. He wants to push them away from him, he’s too calm now. He’s restless. 

Iwaizumi pulls his computer back onto his lap as he presses the purchase button and throws the credit card on the coffee table. He leans on the armrest scrolling through other articles. The baseball season is peaking, and he hasn’t been keeping with the teams so he has to refresh his brain before resorting to bullshitting on his article. 

Oikawa draws a quick glance from Iwaizumi when he gets up and his hand trails over the back of the couch. Iwaizumi smirks at his attempt to get his attention but keeps typing notes on his google docs page. 

Oikawa fills a glass with water and sips it at the counter, staring at the back of Iwaizumi’s head. The silence they’re absorbing into their skin is making him uneasy. And as familiar as it is in their house, Oikawa can’t help but feel the need to dispel it. They’re holding their breath like they always do when they want to kiss each other, but tease each other instead. And Oikawa is ready to exhale. 

He puts the glass down on the counter and retrieves his blanket from the edge of the puzzle. Iwaizumi doesn’t look at him until he’s standing next to him at the couch, and then looks up. 

“Hi,” he whispers and Oikawa rolls his eyes. His heart feels like it’s laughing, and it makes him want to giggle as well but he holds it down and just smiles. Oikawa pulls Iwaizumi’s laptop out of his hands mid-sentence, mid-word, mid-thought. He pulls a little at Iwaizumi’s knee until he opens his legs and Oikawa climbs between them. He settles his back against Iwaizumi’s chest and places the computer in front of them again. 

Iwaizumi holds his hands out as his smile creeps up across his cheeks and then folds them in again around Oikawa, squeezing him as close as he can to his heart. He presses his face into the crook of Oikawa’s neck and kisses the spot he’s found is the softest. 

The blanket warms them both up as Iwaizumi keeps scrolling and Oikawa scans over his notes in the corner, his screen split by his tabs and windows. He points out a few mistakes at quotes, and lines Iwaizumi’s thought up, and Iwaizumi corrects them. He listens to Iwaizumi’s voice as it hums the words he’s reading and feels his voice vibrate in his chest. 

“Why do you take the baseball assignment if you hate it?” Oikawa asks and tilts his head to see Iwaizumi from the corner of his eye. Iwaizumi stops typing and his fingers hover over the keys his mind still touching the thought he had. 

“I... I don’t know, I guess it’s just part of the things I have to do,” he says and shrugs the question off. But Oikawa doesn’t leave it be, he turns his shoulders a little more. 

“But why? If you asked for something else your editor would probably give it to you,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi’s hands go lax on Oikawa’s hips. 

“Yeah, probably, I guess I’ve gotten used to going, every year....with you,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa’s cheeks flush as he’s pushed back by his words a little. He tries to think of that one time Iwaizumi went without him. 

“Oh...” he whispers. He tries to think of that one time, but he can’t because he was there every time, Iwaizumi convinced him every time. He has the pictures still of every time at the baseball park, the games are long and boring, but the food is fun and he’s there. Every time Iwaizumi is there, so it’s fun. He hadn’t realized it’s become their couple thing, it’s always just been Iwaizumi’s work thing. Oikawa settles back against Iwaizumi’s chest.

“What?” Iwaizumi asks as Oikawa sinks into him and he shakes him a little.

“Nothing,” Oikawa whispers and his smile perks onto his lips. It isn’t nothing, Iwaizumi can see that he can feel Oikawa’s hands hold onto him tighter, but he doesn’t ask again. 

Iwaizumi types as Oikawa presses a cheek his chest, and his fingers trace the dip and curve of his abdomen. He’s so warm, Oikawa can’t bear to move; his body sunken completely into comfort. Iwaizumi’s notes quickly turn into talking points and form into scattered paragraphs of the article. His fingers glide over the keys, as he tries not to move his arms. 

Every few moments, Oikawa’s body jolts and Iwaizumi’s heart is sent racing, and after the third time, Iwaizumi stops asking if he’s okay. His breath dips...

“Hu—” he jumps and Iwaizumi sighs. He rubs a hand on his back.

“You can fall asleep, Tooru, it’s okay,” Iwaizumi whispers and Oikawa sighs, nodding. 

But he continues to jump, his body shaking every few seconds, as Iwaizumi’s pages get longer and fuller. He sighs and glances at the time.
1:42 pm. 

Oikawa’s eyes are closed when Iwaizumi closes the laptop and lunges to put it on the table. He props up his phone. 

“1 hour,” He whispers and sets a timer. Oikawa hums, his body already giving up. 

Iwaizumi wraps his arms around Oikawa and turns to lie on his side curling his body around Oikawa’s. He moans a little when he adjusts the blanket and pulls Iwaizumi close to him. He holds him so he can’t get away and Iwaizumi does the same. 

-

- 

A brush of his arm. 

“Mm,” 

“Shhh,” the pressure at his back, disappears. 

-

-

The buzzing breaches Oikawa’s dreams like a distant siren, and it pulls him out of his sleep like a slowly drawn breath. His eyes flicker open, and he instinctively reaches out and slaps at the phone, the buzz tingling his fingers until it turns off. His nap was deeper than he had anticipated, as his bones feel unmoved as if in ages, every muscle stiff and frozen. 

He uncurls his limbs and peels his body from the couch, the extra space behind him still warm but empty. Their house is small and Oikawa can hear the hush of the shower running in their bedroom. He chases after it, with a yawn and stumbling toes. He glances at the oven clock. 

2:50 pm. 

Oikawa’s eyes still feel heavy as he wiggles out of his underwear and tosses them into the hamper. He tries to keep the door from creaking as he opens it, and the swoosh of the running water gets louder.

Iwaizumi doesn’t hear him when the door opens or when his feet slap a little on the tile. He hears him and opens his eyes when the curtain is pulled back and he nearly slips. 

“FUcK Tooru,” Iwaizumi says

“Oh please do, but Iwa-chan you remember what the doctor said, tsk,” Oikawa answers and at first he fights his smile but as Iwaizumi continues to shake his head Oikawa’s lips form into a cheshire smile. Iwaizumi pulls the curtain closed. 

“Wait your turn, dumbass,” He says and closes his eyes again rubbing the soap into his hair.

“But Iwa-chan, I’m already naked and now I’m getting cold,” Iwaizumi sighs and Oikawa pulls back the curtain again. He nods his head back a little and Oikawa breaks into a giddy smile. He reaches out a hand for Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he steps into the tub and Iwaizumi closes the curtain. He traps the steam with them, collecting between their bodies. Oikawa opens his lips to ask but Iwaizumi turns just as he does and hands him the bottle of soap. 

“Thank you,” Oikawa whispers and revels in the warmth of the steam. Iwaizumi turns the water hotter and they switch places. 

They’ve taken countless showers together, some just to bathe others...for other reasons, but every time, when Iwaizumi’s hands brush around Oikawa’s body, telling him to move, or whisking away some of the bubbles of his soap he can’t help himself. He can’t help the breath he takes in and the blush that crawls across his cheeks. Oikawa used to blame it on the steam, but each time his lie became less and less convincing. 

“You’re blushing again...” Iwaizumi says and he wipes his palms across his face. His hair hangs flat on his head, and glistens in the artificial light. Oikawa’s does the same. 

“Well I can’t help it,” Oikawa pouts and Iwaizumi forms a smile that only makes Oikawa’s blush deepen. 

“Stop it,” Oikawa says and turns around pouring shampoo into his palm.

“Stop what?” Iwaizumi asks but he knows exactly what he’s doing, his smile getting brighter. 

“Being— that, being cute,” Oikawa tilts his head back and rubs in the shampoo, his eyes slipping closed.

“Well, I can’t really help that,” Iwaizumi says and he slips his hands around Oikawa’s hips. Oikawa jumps and looks over his shoulder his hands still on his head. He bends his head and kisses the curve of Oikawa’s spine that bridges his neck and shoulders. And Oikawa can feel his breath tickle the back of his neck; goosebumps raise where he touches, and a shiver runs over him. Oikawa closes his eyes. 

It’s Iwaizumi’s snickering that breaks Oikawa out of all of his blushing and shivering. He turns and scowls at Iwaizumi and flicks soap in his face, but it only makes him laugh harder. 

“Stupid,” Oikawa mumbles and returns his attention to his hair. Iwaizumi wipes the soap from his face, still laughing. 

“Yeah, pretty stupid,” and Oikawa tries to resist looking over his shoulder again. 

Iwaizumi finishes rinsing his body, and the conditioner out of his hair. He pulls back the curtain and tells Oikawa to finish up, Oikawa doesn’t know how much time has passed but when Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa’s phone that he brought says it’s almost time for them to leave. 

Oikawa pulls the curtain closed as Iwaizumi leaves the bathroom, and rises his hair under the shower. He tries to keep the water from hitting his side, where the scar is starting to form, the red partially curved line across his stomach still tender to pressure. He picks up Iwaizumi’s conditioner and makes note that they need to get more. 

Iwaizumi rubs the towel over his hair and lays his black button-down shirt on the bed. He doesn’t wear it often, he likes to save it for date night, for special nights with Oikawa, but he thinks about the events of the past 4 days, and decides today is more special than ever. He pulls out a pair of jeans and lays them down with the shirt leaving them to find underwear. The water turns off. 

Iwaizumi pulls on his underwear as Oikawa gets out of the shower. He glances over and then glances away. Then slips on his jeans. He likes these jeans because they fit well. Oikawa likes them cause he says they make Iwaizumi’s ass look good. It’s familiar to wear his good clothes. He slips his arms through and shrugs on his shirt, folding the sleeves up to his elbow. He’s careful to button it properly so Oikawa doesn’t get the pleasure of doing it for him. But as his fingers press button after button through designated holes his fingers shake a little, it’s familiar to wear a dress shirt, so familiar it’s unsettling. He shakes his head. 

Iwaizumi rolls his shoulders in his shirt and his body tilts like its having a memory he’s not supposed to remember. He approaches his dresser and on top of it hover his fingers over the black studs he likes to wear. 

“Deja vu,” he mumbles, and he retreats his fingers. Oikawa comes out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist and Iwaizumi looks up. 

“Oh I love that shirt on you,” he says and opens the drawer of their dresser the back of his hand touching Iwaizumi’s chest. He pulls out underwear then retreats back to the bathroom. 

“No,” Iwaizumi whispers. He looks at the studs and tries to shake the thoughts out of his head, the wayward sense that he’s living his dream. He grabs the diamond studs instead that Oiakwa gave him and uncap them. 

“He’s okay,” Iwaizumi whispers and presses the earrings through his lobs. There’s a lump in his throat as he presses the back onto the earings and looks at his reflection in the mirror. 

The lump in his throat shatters and falls on his heart when there’s a battered thrash from the bathroom.

“Tooru!?” Iwaizumi calls and he’s only a few seconds late. 

“I’m okay!” Oikawa shouts back and looks up at Iwaizumi who’s standing in the bathroom doorway with eyes dripping in fear. 

“I’m... okay Hajime, ar—are you?” Oikawa sets the bottle of hair product he dropped on the counter. But Iwaizumi doesn’t answer with his words. He reaches out and embraces Oikawa, burying his face in the corner of his jaw. 

“I’m fine Hajime really,” Oikawa pushes Iwaizumi’s head up and presses his palms to his cheeks. He pets the side of his cheek first with his palm and then the back of his knuckles. Iwaizumi looks over his body and Oikawa can see his eyes lingering over his abdomen. 

“Haji—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and Oikawa bites his cheek. 

“This was— this was just almost exactly how the dream went,” 

“The one from the other night?” Iwaizumi nods his head and his hands grasp for Oikawa tighter, pulling him closer. 

“Here,” Oikawa takes one of Iwaizumi’s hands and presses it to his side again, just over the cut. 

“It’s healing, it’s tender still but it’s healing,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi just nods, his brows knitted together with worry. He runs his thumb over the stitches. He tries to be gentle. 

“I’m not going to break open, Hajime, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Iwaizumi sucks in a deep breath that shakes on its way in. He hates making Oikawa think he’s afraid, he hates pestering him, but it’s all he can feel lately, and he can’t seem to swallow this fear. 

“You can check, anytime, awake or asleep; look, touch, kiss, whatever... but, don’t be afraid,” Oikawa pulls Iwaizumi’s head to his, touching their foreheads.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore, I’m not in danger,” Oikawa’s eyes fall soft when he pulls away from Iwaizumi, the worry still knitted in his brow. 

“Okay,” Iwaizumi finally says, and Oikawa sighs. He runs his hands over Iwaizumi’s shoulders and arms looking over him again. 

“God I love you in this shirt,” his head drifts from the seriousness of their conversation before. But it’s the comment that makes Iwaizumi laugh and take one last deep breath. 

“m-kay, sorry to disturb,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa shakes his head, with eyes that tell him he could never disturb. 

Iwaizumi backs out of the doorframe and returns to putting on his other earring, but just as he does Oikawa comes scurrying out of the bathroom. He doesn’t speak but approaches Iwaizumi, turns him toward him and unbuttons his shirt. Iwaizumi had missed one. So he unloops every button so he can fix them, and when he reaches the top two he leaves them undone and pulls on Iwaizumi’s collar instead, his shoulders bunching close to his ears as Oikawa presses deeply into Iwaizumi’s lips. He doesn’t say any words but he leaves Iwaizumi’s cheeks burning and shirt adjusted. 

Oikawa revels in his haircare, excited to have his hairdryer again, and the products that make him smell like spring. He buzzes around the bathroom like a bee, and talks to himself in the mirror, and to Iwaizumi when he joins him to wash his teeth. 

“Sorry for the noise, but also I don’t care,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi laughs his toothbrush wedged in his cheek. The hairdryer blasts its cry out into their bathroom as it blows down on Oikawa’s hair. Iwaizumi has always liked the sight of Oikawa doing his hair. There’s a look on his face he can’t seem to replicate. His eyes will close and he’ll bathe again in the hot air as his hair whips around his head; the bouncing brown locks fluffing up around his fingers. It’s a purely instinctual thing for Oikawa and Iwaizumi loves to see that face. 

Oikawa’s hair is dry when Iwaizumi’s teeth are clean, and they’ve both moved on to their cologne. Oikawa sighs and looks at Iwaizumi from his side of the sinks. His smile is soft and warm and it makes Iwaizumi wonder what Oikawa could be thinking. 

“I’ve missed my hairdryer,” Iwaizumi’s face falls, of course, he was thinking that. 

“Go get dressed,” Iwaizumi says and pulls out his hair comb. Oikawa shakes his head one last time in the mirror, watching his waves bounce before he tiptoes out of the bathroom. Iwaizumi unplugs the hairdryer from the outlet and wraps it up for him.

Oikawa slips his hands through the various shirts in the closet. He doesn’t feel like being casual, even though it’s just dinner at home. He wants to look nice, but... 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa calls and waits for Iwaizumi’s head to pop out around the corner.

“Yeah,” 

“I don’t know what to wear,” Oikawa says and shifts his eyes from Iwaizumi’s. 

“You’re dressed up nice and I don't wanna look too casual, but I also don’t wanna be in a button-up and then I don’t know what to do...” Oikawa bounces his shoulders in defeat, swaying from one foot to the other.

“Well I could just change into one of my black t-shirts,” Iwaizumi suggests, but Oikawa shakes his head as Iwaizumi expected him to, 

“I like you in that shirt,” Oikawa pouts. 

Iwaizumi looks in the closet and shuffles a few of the shirts from side to side. He knows what Oiakwa could wear, he just needs to find it.

“Here,” Iwaizumi pulls out a soft grey sweater he gave Oikawa a few years ago that he loves to see him in.

“It’s not too casual, comfy but not a button-up,” Iwaizumi says and pushes the sweater into Oikawa’s hands. Oikawa looks at it and feels the fabric between his fingers. He remembers when he got this sweater, and even now it’s still the softest top he has. Iwaizumi glances at the clock.
4:10 pm.

“Hurry up, we gotta leave,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa nods tugging the sweater over his head and pulling out his nice light blue jeans. Iwaizumi sits down on the bed and slips on his black vans rubbing at one of the sides of the rubber to clean it.

“You need new ones of those, they’re getting dirty,” Oikawa says as he passes,

“What? I just got these,” 

“Iwa-chan I gave you those 4 years ago. 21’ st birthday, remember?” 

“Well,” 

“You need new ones,” Oikawa says without another thought as he slips his own foot into some suede oxfords.

“I thought you wanted to be casual...” Iwaizumi says and bounces his eyebrows at Oikawa’s shoes.

“No I said I didn’t want to be casual, and the shoes elevate the sweater to a more chic appearance,” 

“Now come on, it takes 20 minutes to get to mom’s,” Oikawa says and grabs Iwaizumi’s keys, both their bodies rushing at the realization of the time. 

4:15 pm. 

-

-

Oikawa calls his mom from the car telling her they’re a little late and she reminds them not to stress. 

-

They pull up to the house only a few minutes before Oikawa said they would, Oikawa still laughing at Iwaizumi who had started yelling at another car. And Iwaizumi watches him as he turns the car off, laughing in the silence. 

“Omg yay!” Oikawa says his laughter dying into a smile. He unbuckles himself, his eyes clinging to the house, trying to see through the large window. 

“I’m so hungry,” 

“I told you you should have had lunch,” Iwaizumi nags and follows Oikawa’s lead out of the car. 

“Well, I got tired and fell asleep,” Oikawa tries to defend himself but really just avoids Iwaizumi’s eyes that chase him down with guilt, until they both start giggling. Oikawa knocks on the door before opening it,

“Mom, I’m home!’ He calls and his father’s head appears before his sentence is over. 

“Tooru!” he says his smile wide and taking up most of his face. He sticks out his arms and Oikawa bends for a hug.

“Hi dad,” and the man lets Oikawa go.  

“Hajime...” the man says and looks over his nose at Iwaizumi his eyes squinting shut with feigned suspicion. 

“Ah, I’m just kidding, come here,” Mr.Oikawa spreads his arms and Iwaizumi sighs at their tired routine. Iwaizumi bends to hug the man, squeezing him, as he laughs in Iwaizumi’s ear. 

“So, who’s ready for dinner,” Oikawa’s father asks and without any answer from them, leads them away from the door. 

The house smells like home to both Oikawa and Iwaizumi but now with a fresher scent of wood and salt in the air. They can hear Oikawa’s mother cooking in the kitchen before they even turn the corner. The soft clang of pots and spoons and her singing voice she only ever uses under the swinging lights of the stove. 

“Is dinner ready?” Oikawa whispers to his father, his hand reaching behind him for Iwaizumi’s. His father shrugs without looking back. 

“She told me to set the table and I did, so I assume it is,” He says and they turn the corner at the end of the hall. 

“Hi Mom,” Oikawa says and his mother gasps from behind the stove and counter.

“Tooru!” she says and rushes to wrap her arms around him. She’s warm in a way that only a mother can be warm; her arms stretch around Oikawa’s shoulders, his body no longer fitting inside them like when he was young. 

“You look fabulous,” she says and holds him out by his shoulders and Oikawa smiles thanking her. 

“And Iwaizumi, come here, oh you look great tonight,” 

“Thank you, I felt like dressing up a little,” he says and shakes his shoulders before hugging her. 

“Well I like your choices,” and she waves them all over to the table. 

On their bare feet Oikawa and Iwaizumi find places on the pillows. The table traditionally low. 

“This is new,” Oikawa says as he takes up the spot next to Iwaizumi. 

“It is indeed,” his mother exclaims as she serves the bowls of what Oikawa thinks is some sort of soup.

“It was his mother’s idea,” Mr.Oikawa says to Iwaizumi and rolls his eyes.

“I can hear you rolling your eyes Hiromoto” she scolds but all he does is roll his eyes again before smiling over at her.

“A friend of mine showed me an article,” Oikawa’s mother brings the bowls one by one and places them on the table, then the rice and their spoons. 

“It was about style and the combination of traditional styles and modern western styles, and it was all so interesting,” 

“Thank you,” Oikawa says as she hands him his bowl,

“It was all so interesting, I thought why not do it here at home, I don’t know why it was so new to me, or why I hadn’t thought of it, but...” she gestures at the table and around the room, where Oikawa and Iwaizumi can see other new arrangements of both traditional and modern decor. 

“Well I think it looks nice mom,” Oikawa says and his mother stops to smile at him her cheeks scrunching up her eyes. She brings the final piece to the table, the jug of water that she pours for each person. 

When she takes her seat she tells everyone to eat and watches as they thank her for the food, and take their first bites.

“Is it good?” she asks immediately and Oikawa, already on his second bite, nods with his mouth full of soup. She smiles a goofy smile Iwaizumi’s seen before on Oikawa’s lips and takes her first bite. 

“So how’s being out of the hospital?” His mother asks and Oikawa looks up as a bit of soup dribbles down his chin. Iwaizumi slides him his napkin. 

“Good, I’ve missed home,” he mumbles his eyes staring into the depth of his soup broth. 

“I wasn’t there for very long so it almost feels like I’m not allowed to miss home, but it was scary, and I did, I missed being home,” 

“Well we’re happy you’re back, healthy,” his father whispers. 

Iwaizumi’s noticed over the years of sitting with the Oikawa family, that when they speak to each other about serious things, about thoughts their hearts are having, they tend to speak in a whisper. They talk together like they’re saying secrets to each other. And Iwaizumi used to wonder if Oikawa could teach him how to do it, to talk in secrets. Now as he sits there, spooning his soup, he wonders after all these years, if he secretly did. 

“The home is happy you’re there too,” Iwaizumi whispers, and Oikawa half laughs and half smiles leaning to bump their shoulders. What a cheesy thing to do after hearing a cheesy line like that. 

“Of course it is, any house would be happy to be lived in by Tooru,” his mother says, as a matter of fact, her nose pointed up. But she can only hold her breath so long before letting her giggle break loose over her soup, and they all laugh with her. 

They talk of serious thoughts in light whispers, and when they laugh about silly things they use all the joy they have in their voice. 

Oikawa’s hand finds Iwaizumi’s leg under the table and rests there. 

“But yeah, it’s nice to be home, we hung out today and it just felt nice to be around it all,” 

“Good,” his mother says and takes another bite of soup.

“What about you, Hajime? You happy to be home?” Oikawa’s father watches Iwaizumi like he’s always done, with eyes that feign suspicion. And Iwaizumi smiles and nods.

“It feels really nice,” he says and Oikawa’s father lets his eyes soften his lips breaking into a smile before sipping on his soup. 

The conversation delves into Mrs.Oikawa’s work, and the new client from hell she’s been dealing with. She talks about the fabrics she’s been using and the woman’s reactions that make everyone laugh. And Oikawa and Iwaizumi listen carefully as she talks, sipping at their soup until their bowls shallow. 

When the silence fills their bowls more than the soup and the water jug is empty, Oikawa’s mother begins to collect their dishes and they thank her for the meal again. Oikawa’s father collects the rest of the dining table sets, and they watch as the two bicker in the kitchen. 

Their words are sharp but filled with laughter as they throw towels and splash water at each other. Their comments only softened by their smiles. 

As Oikawa and Iwaizumi are left at the table Iwaizumi whispers in Oikawa’s ear and Oikawa rolls his head to hear. Oikawa has slowly drifted his hand onto Iwaizumi’s pillow their shoulders brushing as they sway back and forth. 

“Please tell me we’ll be like them when we’re old?” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa laughs, his head falling over onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder. He nods. 

“Definitely,” he says still watching his parents.

Oikawa’s mother eventually kicks her husband out of the kitchen telling him to stop messing with everything. He takes the newspaper off the counter just as she whips a towel at him. He comes out laughing at her teases and stands over the table. Oikawa moves to his knees.

“I’ll go see if Mom needs any help,” he says and presses a kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek before getting up. 

“Careful, she’s being silly,” his father says and Oikawa shakes his head before leaving him with Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi is about to pull out his phone and check his emails when Mr.Oikawa interrupts him.

“Come out to the porch with me,” he says and sets his newspaper on one of the side tables against the wall. He opens the cabinet and takes out a folded wood board, and a small velvet bag. 

Iwaizumi gets to his feet and follows the man around the counters past the kitchen to the screen that separates the outside from the in. Oikawa watches them as they pass and meets Iwaizumi’s eyes, both curious as to his father’s intentions. 

Oikawa’s father is an incredibly goofy person, but when it comes to his wife and son Iwaizumi has never seen him been more serious. He’s known the man almost as long as he’s known his own father, and he’s always been kind. But when Oikawa and he started dating, Iwaizumi’s relationship with Mr.Oikawa changed. Iwaizumi was no longer just the boy who was a best friend, he was the man who could break his son’s heart. 

“Take a seat,” Mr.Oikawa says and unfolds a hand as an invitation. Iwaizumi still remembers the conversation they had when he was 16. It was just like this. On the porch, with the shogi board between them.  

Oikawa’s father takes a seat across from Iwaizumi and lays the board between them. Iwaizumi can see Oikawa inside with his mother still doing the dishes and giggling. Mr.Oikawa hands Iwaizumi his pieces and sets up the board. He mumbles to himself as he flips through his playing book, always at his side, and Iwaizumi makes the first move. He has the jewel general, while Mr.Oikawa has the king. But he slides his foot soldier out first. 

They move their pieces one at a time, back and forth. Iwaizumi, the challenger, focuses on the pieces he collects from Oiakwa’s father, while the old man attacks with his knight. The silence falls over the board between the clacks of their pieces, until Iwaizumi is the first to speak. 

“Your classes are starting again, professor?” Iwaizumi asks and the man nods with a grunt.

“First semester is about to start again,” he says and Iwaizumi holds his breath, and moves another piece. 

“I’m looking forward to being back, with each coming year the students seem to be getting brighter and brighter,” his piece clacks on the board.

“I’ll have to call the university, for Tooru, he probably won't be there for the first couple weeks,” Iwaizumi says and takes another of Mr.Oikawa’s pieces. 

“The volleyball team won't be happy about that I’m guessing,” he says. 

“Actually the team might be a little relieved, Oikawa is a menace coach,” Iwaizumi says and his lips curl into a smile. He glances through the window at Oikawa, sipping a cup of tea in his hands. The steam rises and heats up his cheeks. 

“He always was passionate; your move,” Mr.Oikawa places his knight a little too close to Iwaizumi’s king and Iwaizumi scans the board, trying to figure out his play. 

“Hajime,” Mr.Oikawa calls him and Iwaizumi almost nods him away focusing on his pieces, but when his eyes meet Mr.Oikawa’s, he pauses and listens. 

“I want to say thank you, for taking care of our son,” he whispers, his voice cracking over his words bit by bit.

“You’ve always loved him in a way parents can’t, you’ve understood him.” Iwaizumi blinks as Mr.Oikawa whispers on and his mind shuffles for an answer.

“Thank you,” 

“I remember the day I fell in love with Kana,” He says and Iwaizumi moves a piece, his heart still pulsing in his chest, his cheeks and the inside of his elbows warm. 

“I hit her with my bike,” He says and Iwaizumi stops mid-move.

“She passed out, and I carried her to the hospital,” He says and waves at Iwaizumi to complete the move.

“I cried until she woke up, and when she did, I fell in love with her. She had. The most beautiful eyes,” he says and his head turns to look inside the window as his wife laughs with her son.

“She still does, and when she woke up, she started to laugh. The doctors thought she had a concussion, but I laughed with her, and then she told me her name, and I said in my head: this is the woman I'll love forever, ” He moves another piece.

“Love at second sight,” Iwaizumi whispers and Oikawa’s father nods. 

“She still has a scar on her shoulder where she hit the ground, she calls it her love scar,” he says and Iwaizumi smiles. He looks at Oikawa through the window again, and thinks of all the scars they’ve collected together and apart. As Iwaizumi stares Oikawa glances and meets his eyes through the glass; his hand comes up to wave and his lips pull into a smile.

“Your king has fallen,” Mr.Oikawa says and takes Iwaizumi’s king the final piece of the game. 

“I win,” he whispers and Iwaizumi cocks a smile, nodding. 

“Would you like to play again?” Mr.Oikawa asks but Iwaizumi hesitates, as he sees Oikawa step up from his seat. 

“Um, I think we might be leaving,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa opens the sliding door. 

“Hiya,” He says leaning his body half out the door, waving to his father. 

“Hello,” Iwaizumi says and extends his hand to Oikawa who takes it in his, linking their fingers across the porch. 

“You ready to go home?” he asks and Oikawa nods, his eyes are starting to fall and Iwaizumi can see the remnants of sleep in them. 

“You tired?” and again Oikawa nods and tugs on Iwaizumi’s hand, telling him to go. 

Oikawa’s father collects all the pieces and folds up the board. 

“I’ll see you guys off then,” he says and moves to his feet.

Iwaizumi doesn’t let go of Oikawa’s hand as he bows to the old man, thanking him one last time. But the man only waves him aside, opening the door for Oikawa to pull Iwaizumi in. 

“Oh let me get your gifts first!” Oikawa’s mother says and jumps out of the seat. 

“They got us something from Iceland apparently,” Oikawa says and reaches up to adjust Iwaizumi’s collar. He brushes off his shoulders and pulls the shirt straight before wrapping his arms around his waist. 

“Iceland, wow,” Iwaizumi says pulling his arms up to hold him. 

Mr.Oikawa puts away the game as Iwaizumi and Oikawa sway by the porch door, trying to hold back yawns as they whisper. The house is warm like it used to be, the sun is starting to set behind the backyard fence. 

“Here we goooo,” Oikawa’s mother comes out from up the stairs. Holding a bag and various sized boxes in her arms. 

“This one is for Iwaizumi,” she says and hands the largest box to him,

“And this, no— that’s for your sister, and here! This is for Tooru!” she holds out the small box and a bag with both hands. 

Iwaizumi sets his on the counter to open it, pulling the top off the box. In it, is a thick sweater and a smaller box. He pulls out the sweater with the intricate design wrapping around the shoulders rubbing it in his fingers. 

“It’s made locally, and we thought they were so cute, so we got you one,” Oikawa’s mother narrates and Iwaizumi can feel the warmth in the sweater already spreading through his fingertips. The little tufts of fuzz tangling in his rough hands. 

“It’s great, thank you,” He says half laughing and moves to the next box. 

“And in that box is a bracelet, it’s leather, and has a Viking symbol of sorts that— what did the shop lady say it means honey?” she calls to Mr.Oikawa who looks up.

“Strength,” he says and she repeats.

“It means strength, and we just thought it looked nice so we bought that,” 

“Thank you,” Iwaizumi says putting down the bracelet to hug her, her smile as he does almost tearing her cheeks it’s so wide. 

“Okay, my turn!” Oikawa says setting his box and bag down next to Iwaizumi’s. He shuffles through the bag to pull out two bottles with the name ‘Blue Lagoon’ on them. 

“So those are from the famous Blue Lagoon, those natural springs, and we got you some body lotion and a scrub,” she says and looks over his shoulder as he flips over the bottle reading it. 

“It’s supposedly really good!” she says and puts out her hand for him to feel,

“I’ve been using it for a week now,” she whispers and Oikawa raises his eyebrows. 

“And there’s more, keep looking!” she pushes and Oikawa digs into the bag some more pulling out a thick blanket that looks like it’s made out of the same material as Iwaizumi’s sweater.

“So that’s a blanket that’s kind of matching with Iwaizumi’s sweater, just as soft and warm,” 

“And in the box...” she continues, too excited to let Oikawa open it himself. 

“Is the same bracelet! Except this one has the symbol for love on it,” and she pushes the box towards Oikawa to look at it. Iwaizumi picks up his to compare them and they hold them side by side, the symbols love and strength staring back at them.

“We thought it was cute, for the two of you, appropriate for you as a couple, and all,” She whispers her hand scratching at the back of her ear like she does when she’s embarrassed. 

“We love them,” Oikawa says and slips his on his wrist. 

With their gifts back in their bags or on their wrists, Oikawa and Iwaizumi say their final goodbyes at the door, their muscles heavy with the warmth of the soup and the house. Oikawa’s mother and father hug them both at the door, telling them to call when they’re home, and already suggesting plans for lunch or breakfast in a couple of days. She reminds Oikawa that his sisters will be in town next month, and not to forget to call his brother, who is apparently jealous of the fact that he calls Takeru more than him. And Oikawa agrees as he holds her hands and she squeezes him. Iwaizumi puts their gifts in the back of the car. 

It’s still light out when they leave, the sun still a white orb in the distance falling into the color orange. And when they reach the end of the street and Iwaizumi turns on his turn signal Oikawa glances at the time and has a thought he hasn’t had in a long time.
6:30 pm. 

“Hey,” he whispers and Iwaizumi looks over just as he’s about to turn right. 

“Why don’t we go to our hill,” Oikawa says and sits forward in his seat. His eyes are open and more awake than a few minutes before. They hadn’t been to their hill since they first came back from university, it had been years. 

“Please,” Oikawa says even though he knows Iwaizumi hates it,

“Don’t say please,” Iwaizumi says and holds out his hand for Oikawa to take.

“You don’t have to,” 

Oikawa takes his hand and holds it in his lap as Iwaizumi looks behind them for other cars. They’re the only one on that streets, so when the light turns green again Iwaizumi turns left instead of right, cutting across to the other lane.

Oikawa’s parents live in a secluded neighborhood in a house that borders a mountain, and on the base of the mountain when you follow the path and push through some of the trees, you can find a hill that looks over the town. When Oikawa and Iwaizumi were 12 they would play on the mountain a lot, and they discovered a particular hill that they could see the town from. And it quickly became their spot. 

It was the spot Oikawa first kissed Iwaizumi, who then ran off flustered. It was where one came when they were upset and crying, and where the other knew they could find them. It was their spot of time and space where everything was okay, and they were alone. 

Iwaizumi pulls up the driveway of the mountain path, the parking lot already empty. And when Oikawa gets out of the car he thinks it all looks the same, the white stripes marking parking spots still faded, and the crack in the concrete still creating a dip in the ground. Iwaizumi takes his hand when he’s out of the car, locking it. 

Oikawa pulls on Iwaizumi’s hand when he looks at the sky, the blue of dusk filling now, with new shades of pink and orange. The sun taking its final nosedive into the depths between night and day. 

He pulls him up the usual path, climbing until they hit the first platou. And when they walk until the tree with the gaping hole that looks like laughter they turn left off the path. Iwaizumi leads Oikawa through the bushes, pushing past the tree branches so they don’t hit him; until they break through the greenery onto the large patch of earth that stares out at the town and houses. The grass is longer than it used to be, and Oikawa lets go of Iwaizumi’s hand to run and look out over the edge. It’s no longer as tall over the town, it hasn’t been since they were 15. But when Oikawa thinks about it, it’s always so high in the clouds. 

Iwaizumi takes his spot on the grass, next to the two stones with their initials on it.

“Oi,” he calls and picks up the stone.

“Look,” he says and Oikawa turns. The stone is painted with blue paint Oikawa had found in his sister’s old room: T&H. They had written it when Oikawa was going through his cheesy romance novel stage. When he was just starting to realize that all those feelings the girls had for the boys Oikawa had for Iwaizumi. 

He takes a seat next to Iwaizumi in the grass and pulls the large stone into his lap. 

“I remember when we made this,” Oikawa whispers, and Iwaizumi hums. 

“I remember how excited you were,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa laughs, they never added a heart, cause Oikawa didn’t want to let it show how much he loved him. He looks around him for a sharp stone. 

He finds one by his foot and tries to hold it like a pen the best he can, and in rough squiggly lines almost too thin to even see he rubs in the shape of a heart around the painted initials. 

“There,” He says and hands it back to Iwaizumi who holds it out to look.

“Now it’s how I wanted it to be when we first did it,” Oikawa whispers and leans his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi places the stone at his side next to the other then wraps an arm around Oikawa. 

The sun is falling still. And Oikawa watches as it does, slowly traveling between the clouds until it tips over the horizon. It’s red tonight and Oikawa giggles. 

“It almost looks like a heart,” he whispers and Iwaizumi looks at the sun trying to see it himself. 

“No it doesn’t,” he says and Oikawa sighs,

“Yes, it does" and points with his finger, creating the shape of a heart over the red circle.

“See?” 

“No, it’s just a circle still, almost a half circle,” he says and Oikawa laughs shaking his head. 

“It’s a heart,” he sets his head back on Iwaizumi’s shoulder,

“I don’t see it,” 

But Oikawa doesn’t respond, still watching the clouds move around the sun and its colors. His hands pull at the grass. It’s long now and easier. 

“What did my dad talk to you about?” Oikawa asks and shifts his head to look at Iwaizumi. His eyes are lost in the shapes of the clouds.

“Iwa-chan...” Oikawa says and nudges Iwaizumi with his shoulder and he perks up his eyes finding Oikawa.

“Hm?” 

“What did my father talk to you about?” he asks again. 

“Just work stuff,” he says and then thinks of the story. 

“He also told me about how he met your mom,” Iwaizumi says and he hears Oikawa gasp with a laugh. 

“I remember that story, I laughed so hard when they told me,” 

“It’s really romantic,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa nods. 

“Oh, definitely but it’s still hilarious, I mean, who falls in love with the person who hit you with a bike?” Oikawa says and tries to hold in the sound of his laugh. 

“And then he beat me in shogi for like the 100th time,” Iwaizumi closes off and Oikawa chuckles again pushing on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, he’s a master at shogi,” Oikawa mumbles and stares back at the sun, the colors darker and less vibrant now as the sun is almost gone behind the horizon. And Iwaizumi’s lost interest in the sun altogether, his fingers combing the long grass. It comes up to their arms now and nearly consumes them. Oikawa used to keep the grass in their spot short, he would cut the grass with a pair of scissors when he was little all the way into high school, Iwaizumi would find him focusing on the grass clipping it. But they stopped coming and now the grass is long and wild and plays around them in the wind. 

“So are you going back to work tomorrow?” Oikawa asks and Iwaizumi looks up from the grass and shakes his head. 

“No,” He says and Oikawa pulls his head back looking at him. 

“I called and said I’d come in once a week for a little while, but that for the most part, I need time off to be with you,” Iwaizumi doesn’t express any issue with his words, the idea simple in his head. 

“I can work from home,” he says and looks away.

“You know you don’t have to,” Oikawa complains, 

“I’ll be fine at home,”

“I know, but I want to,” he says. 

“But what about your editor, Hajime you don’t need to stay, I’ll be okay on my own, I’m probably going to be sitting at home anyway,”

“No.” Iwaizumi says and leans away from Oikawa, 

“No, I’m not— I can’t, I can’t go back yet,” he says and sits up,

“But—”

“I’m still getting paid, and you’re still healing, you may be out of the hospital but I’m not gonna just leave you like you’re okay, Tooru— no.” Oikawa watches Iwaizumi roll through his thoughts letting them spill. Iwaizumi’s shoulder’s bunch up at the thought of leaving Oikawa alone, 

“And if you need space, alone time that’s fine, kick me out of the house, I’ll sit in another room, I’ll go to the park,” He’s almost out of breath,

“You can have space, but I’m not going somewhere where I might miss your call, where I’m too far to help if you need me,” 

“I— I— I can work from home, we’ll be fine, you’ll be fine,” 

As Iwaizumi talks the image of him sleeping at Oikawa’s bedside floats into Oikawa’s head. 

“I want to be there when you wake up and make sure you’re drinking water, walk around the block with you,” 

Oikawa smiles at that thought and thinks about how Iwaizumi did the same thing in the hospital, at 3 am, and in the afternoon. He never left him when he was there.

“I can keep you company, I don’t want to burden you, but Tooru, I’m not going back to work, not when you’re still healing,” Iwaizumi’s heart pounds in his chest like it’ll bruise his ribcage, at the thought of leaving Oikawa, at the thought of anything going wrong. He knows he can’t hover.

“Hajime,” Oikawa whispers,

Iwaizumi knows he can’t force him to heal, to let him be there, but if he can’t try and help, what good is he to Oikawa. 

“Hajime,” Oikawa says again, and reaches his palms to Iwaizui’s face.

“I know Tooru, but—” Iwaizumi stops the words falling on his ears finally, he’s said them twice.

“What?” 

“Marry me,” Oikawa whispers and Iwaizumi swears he feels his heart stop.  

“Marry me Hajime....” the tears are welling up in Oikawa’s eyes, and Iwaizumi’s lips grasp for words like a suffocating fish, stumbling.

“Plea—”

“Don’t say please,” Iwaizumi says. 

“You don’t have to.” He forgets to blink and his eyes start to sting. He can’t look away because it might just disappear, the shape of those words on Oikawa’s lips. 

“You’ve always been there, you slept at my bedside, you— sfs— you wouldn’t leave me, you stay, even when I don’t ask, you’re there, and— and— and I want that to be forever,” He stumbles through his tears and racing heart, as he brings his hands up to his eyes. Iwaizumi’s heart is fluttering in his chest. He had thought about it like one thinks about a dream, in the distant future as something you can’t fathom to hold in your hands. But here Oikawa is, with tears and words that bring such a delicate dream into his world. 

“I want— I want to grow old with you, and die with you,” Oikawa says not sure what else he can say that means as much as death and love. Iwaizumi shakes his head as he takes one of Oikawa’s hands. 

“Don’t say that; we’re not gonna die,” Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa chuckles.

“Well we will one day,” Oikawa says and leans into Iwaizumi’s hand as it wipes a tear from under his eye.

“No, we’re gonna live forever,” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa laughs even harder, 

“That’s cheesy, Hajime,” His tears are starting to dry. 

“I don’t care, I’d fight death to be with you, Tooru,” he says and wraps his arms around Oikawa’s body, still shaking from his tears.

“I’d steal away your soul and plant it in a field of flowers,” he says and Oikawa shakes his head, his heart laughing at Iwaizumi’s words. 

“So will you marry me?” Oikawa asks and Iwaizumi pulls back, his own tears starting to form.

“Fuck yes,” He says and Oikawa’s laughter throws his head back, and Iwaizumi squeezes their bodies together, until the heat and thrashing about of their hearts can be felt between them. Oikawa’s hands come up to Iwaizumi’s cheeks and pulls his face towards him, pressing their lips together. 

The grass muffles their fall as they topple into it, hiding themselves in the blades. Oikawa slips his hand up Iwaizumi’s neck into his hair as he breathes in his scent mixed with the earth, clinging to both of them now. They laugh between their kisses, as their lips play with one another and Oikawa’s tears seep into the cracks between them and Iwaizumi can taste him. He’s tasted many of Oikawa’s tears, but none were as sweet as these.

The sun has finally dipped over the earth and the trees in their forest whisperer in dying light. Iwaizumi presses their foreheads together and whispers with his eyes closed. 

“I have one condition,” he whispers and he feels Oikawa nod his head, reaching up to brush his lips again. 

“At sunset,” Iwaizumi says, 

“We get married at sunset,” and his eyes open just as Oikawa’s cheeks flush, his hand still tangled in Iwaizumi’s hair. 

“Okay,” he whispers and can’t hold back his smile but as quickly as it spread it falls again.

“Wait,” Oikawa says and pushes Iwaizumi back. They sit up, grass stuck in their hair and to their clothes.

“I don’t have a ring,” he says and Iwaizumi chuckles, he’s about to tell him it’s okay when Oikawa instinctively checks his pockets.

“Maybe there’s something we can use for now...” he mumbles and empties his pockets. 

He doesn’t have much, the pants freshly washed and therefore empty, but he digs his fingers into them and lays down to reach. 

“Tooru, it’s okay,” he says and leans over Oikawa.

“AhHA!” Oikawa says and looks up at Iwaizumi’s face hovering over his. He wants to kiss him, he doesn’t care about the ring, Iwaizumi just wants to press his lips to Oikawa’s until he has effectively melted into him and tasted his smile. 

But Oikawa pushes Iwaizumi back again and holds out a black bread tie, the kind with a wire down its plastic center that you twist around the bag. It’s the only thing he has in his pocket.

“A bread tie?!” Iwaizumi asks, and Oikawa laughs but nods his head.  

“I don’t have anything else,” he shrugs, 

“Come on It’ll be cute,” he says and waves for Iwaiuzmi to give him his hand. Iwaizumi holds out his left hand and Oikawa wraps the tie around his ring finger. Iwaizumi hides his face behind his hand as Oikawa ties the plastic strip, his cheeks growing hotter than he thought was possible.  

“There,” Oikawa says as he forms a knot on the top. Iwaizumi looks at the makeshift ring and Oikawa beyond it smiling like they’re teenagers again, and it almost feels like it. Here and this place, with what feels like a silly promise and a homemade ring, Iwaizumi feels like a child in the best way anyone could. 

“We’re engaged!” Oikawa says and flings himself forward for Iwaizumi to catch him, knowing without any doubt that he will. And he does. He catches Oikawa against his chest and they fall back into the long grass again, Oikawa laughing and Iwaizumi worried about the stitches in his side.

“Tooru, be careful,” he scolds and Oikawa shakes his head, 

“The doctor said—” 

“I don’t give a fuck what she said, Hajime, we’re getting married and I’m going to be happy about it because I’m marrying you,” he says and bends his head forward until their noses touch. 

“Well I care,” he says and Oikawa half rolls his eyes and half sighs. He sits up. Shifting his legs to straddle Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi watches, as without a second thought Oikawa pulls up on his sweater and then pulls it over his head, flinging it into the grass next to them.
“Tooru,” Iwaizumi laughs and sits up to hold him, his naked skin already rising up in goosebumps. 

“Now you can check, I’m not bleeding, I’m not hurt,” He says and pushes Iwaizumi back into the grass. He presses their chests together, and Iwaizumi is suddenly touch starved. He swallows the heat in his chest as it rises, gulping down his shaky breath as Oikawa smiles at him. Even his lips feel warm. His hands glide up his back and side, he counts the notches in his spine until his palm curves around to Oikawa’s cheek. 

“and I said in my head: this is the woman I'll love forever,” Mr.Oikawa’s words come back to him. And he sees it when Oikawa leans into his touch. When he closes his eyes against him and brushes his lips to Iwaizumi’s.  

“You’re the man I’ll love forever,” he whispers and he feels his heart swell, pressing to meet Oikawa’s in the middle. He’s the man he’ll love forever, and Iwaizumi couldn’t be more happy about it.  

Oikawa bites his lip, nodding. He dips his chin until their lips meet, tasting his future forever, and the word in his mouth, as he says it again. 

“forever,” Oikawa whispers and melts against Iwaizumi’s chest. His hands tangle into Iwaizumi’s hair and at the back of his neck, Oikawa can feel the heat in his body, his blush spreading far beyond his cheeks, like the sunset warming him up. 

“You remind me of a sunset,” Oikawa whispers and slips his lips again between Iwaizumi’s. So... so warm...