Chapter Text
The road beneath the tires is nothing but rocks, the fizzing hum of shitty pop music lost to the crunch and roll of gravel under rubber. The old car steadily climbs the mountain path, framed on both sides by dusty green pine trees. Sunlight blares through the gaps in the leaves every few meters. It stabs Iwaizumi in the eyes, leaving him grumbling and squinting.
Oikawa looks vaguely gray in the passenger seat next to him, clenching his jaw shut and staring out the window at the evergreen forest dancing around them. Car sickness. They've been in here for over two hours, after all, with only one break to get some gas and pee at the small town at the bottom of the mountain, which was well over twenty minutes ago.
Makki and Mattsun don't seem to share Oikawa's stomach. They'd been playing cat's cradle in the backseats for an honestly unsettlingly long time, but now seem to have devolved into trying to tangle each other's fingers up as much as possible, humming along to the music filtering through the car's raspy old speaker system.
The car hits a particularly large rock and jolts upward. Oikawa whimpers softly as he lands back in his seat. He clutches the seatbelt with shaking hands. Iwaizumi glances at him, trying to pay attention to the winding road at the same time. "Do you need to get out and puke?" he asks.
"Mm." Oikawa shakes his head, not trusting himself to open his mouth. He's sweating, although that could just be from the harsh sun and general lack of air conditioning.
"Well, open the window anyway," Iwaizumi grumps. "It's hot as hell in here."
Oikawa fumbles with the crank for the window but eventually manages to roll it all the way down, immediately sticking his head out and sighing in relief at the rush of cool air on his sticky face. His hair whips around him, soft and golden in the sunlight. Like a halo.
Iwaizumi stares at him, dazed, before wrenching his attention back to the road.
He can feel Makki and Mattsun giving him a look. He resolutely ignores them.
They sit in relative silence for a few more minutes, Oikawa still leaning his head out the window like a Labrador retriever. Iwaizumi glances in the maladjusted rearview mirror and more than once catches Makki simply playing with Mattsun's fingers, bright red cat's cradle string slung, abandoned, around their wrists. Both views make his stomach swoop high into his throat.
He knows why the sight of Oikawa makes him do that.
The other two, though... that's... new.
He pushes it out of his mind for the time being. No sense in entertaining thoughts of having feelings for people he's going to be stuck in the same cabin with for twelve days.
The car goes over another bump in the road. Oikawa purses his lips. The suitcases in the trunk thud gently against the floor and the paper bags full of groceries rustle and clank softly from where they rest against Makki and Mattsun's legs. The wind whistles through the window. Oikawa's phone fades into a new song, just as upbeat and sickeningly sweet as the last.
It's like alcohol to him, these songs. Iwaizumi knows. He hopes that over this sliver of a summer vacation he can help Oikawa to forget all that he should have left behind at the bottom of the mountain; a bucket of tears and a broken heart and this shitty, shitty pop music.
The cabin comes into view, blooming from the dense forest surrounding it, dark and dim and small. The sun beats down even more unforgivingly, heating up the car until Iwaizumi can feel sweat rolling down the back of his neck even with every window rolled all the way down.
Putting the car into park in the gravel driveway and stumbling out with stiff legs and butts long fallen asleep has never felt better. Mattsun stretches his arms far above his head, straightening out his slouch for once in his stupidly tall life. Makki pokes his exposed stomach and he squirms away, snorting. Oikawa leans heavily with his hands on the hood of the car, taking deep breaths and staring at the blessedly unmoving ground.
Iwaizumi observes their surroundings, lifting the hem of his t-shirt to wipe at the sweat dripping into his eyes. The cabin barely protrudes from the forest. It's more like an afterthought or a fading dream than a real, physical structure. Over the wind he can hear the faint rush of water- a river, somewhere. His uncle had said there were fish there in the summer, and that two fishing rods could be found in the closet off the entry hall of the cabin.
The four of them start dragging their suitcases and the bags of groceries up to the front door. Iwaizumi fumbles in the pockets of his cargo shorts for the keys.
The cabin itself is dark brown wood, almost black, with wide windows and a sharply sloping roof. Two stories. Narrow structure. Tiny deck. Rough around the edges, but habitable. His uncle had assured them that there was plenty of running water, and not to worry about "the tank," whatever that was. Electricity could be iffy, though.
Iwaizumi finally gets the key into the lock and props open the door, feeling around for the light switch. He stubs his pinky on a picture frame, swearing loudly.
Oikawa giggles, shifting his paper bag onto his hip and reaching around Iwaizumi to feel along the wall, too. Their fingers brush and Iwaizumi flinches.
Oikawa glances at him with an unreadable expression before leaning a millimeter closer and very slowly and deliberately running his rough fingertips over Iwaizumi's knuckles. Iwaizumi forces himself to not flinch away and to keep looking for the light switch. Oikawa's fingers press hot against his wrist, then his whole hand flattens out, completely covering Iwaizumi's.
The hairs on Iwaizumi's arm stand up as he breaks out in goosebumps.
"So are the two of you gonna stand here and explore this hand kink or are we going to actually move sometime this century?" drawls Makki from behind a smirking Mattsun.
Iwaizumi starts, flushes horribly, and blusters his way inside, stumbling in the dark until his flailing hand hits the light switch and the cramped entry hall glows a dim yellow. Makki and Mattsun snort loudly with laughter.
In the light Iwaizumi can see Oikawa's face properly. It isn't red at all. He doesn't seem embarrassed in the least, he's even got that signature shit-eating grin plastered on. It pisses him off, just a little, to be reminded once again that his feelings for Oikawa are nothing but one-sided. He rounds the corner and stomps off up the steep and narrow staircase in a stormy mood, hunting for the bedroom.
His foot doesn't quite get on one of the steps all the way and his weight is suddenly thrown off-kilter as he steps up. Quickly tipping backwards, Iwaizumi scrambles for the railing but his hand only meets smooth walls and the suitcase thunks down a step and fuck fuck fuck he's falling-
"Woah there," Makki's deep voice laughs right below his ear. His hands are hot on Iwaizumi's waist as he catches him and steadies him back on the step. "So hot-headed." His shoulder bumps into Iwaizumi's upper back, sandy-peach hair tickling his neck. Iwaizumi can almost feel his breath on his jaw.
"Shut it," Iwaizumi grouses, steadying himself and trying to calm his heart but finding it a bit too difficult with Makki's hands still resting on his bare hips; his shirt had ridden up a bit. He feels shaky. Gingerly, he starts up the stairs once again, glaring at his feet in embarrassed concentration. Makki's thumbs press just a little harder into his skin before slipping away.
Iwaizumi can feel his entire torso heating up. He hopes no one notices.
They find the bedroom to their left, filled with warm green light from the huge bay window set into the wall directly across from the door. On either side of this window are two beds tucked neatly into the corners of the room, stripped bare; the linen closet's a few steps down the hall. A nice, balanced bedroom. Iwaizumi knows he'll sleep well in it.
Well. He would, had the beds not been queen-sized rather than the king-sized he had been expecting. There isn't a chance of anyone wanting to sleep on the unforgiving floor or the broken-springed couch. They'll have to pair off and share. Crammed together. Limbs all over each other. Breathing softly on each other's necks. Having to disentangle from each other's legs come morning because by some amazing play by fate, none of them are motionless sleepers.
Wonderful. Can't fucking wait.
"Oh, Iwa-chan's got a headache," Mattsun grins, dragging his and Makki's shared suitcase behind him through the doorway to stand between them. His dark eyes sweep once around the room and his Cheshire cat smirk grows wider.
Lunging forward, he catches Makki around the waist, sending the air whooshing out of his lungs with a strangled grunt, and tackles him to the bed to their left, letting out a bark of laughter as Makki flails in midair, bouncing on the springy mattress. "This one's ours!" he calls over his shoulder to Iwaizumi just as Oikawa walks in.
Makki lays helplessly giggling on the bed. Mattsun's practically straddling him, hovering over him on all fours with his knees pressed to Makki's bony hips. Iwaizumi almost feels like Oikawa caught him doing something embarrassing, even though it's the other two being idiots.
They honest to god look like they're about two seconds away from a furious make-out session.
...maybe it's just their perpetual bedroom eyes.
"Oh, a queen?" is all Oikawa says, primly ignoring them.
Iwaizumi shakes himself out of whatever all that was and replies, "Yeah, sorry. Looks like we're sharing." His voice is rough.
Oikawa smiles faintly, peering absently around the room, probably trying to figure out where the closet is. "Ah, that's fine. It'll be like when we were kids."
It'll be nothing like when we were kids, Iwaizumi almost says, but he bites his tongue and keeps it to himself. Oikawa probably meant what he said, anyway.
"Iwa-chan, go get some sheets, would you?"
This is supposed to be a friend thing, Iwaizumi scolds himself. Too distracted to even complain about being ordered around, he turns on his heel and clumsily hurries out into the hall again in search of the linen closet. Don't go turning it into something it's not.
Mattsun and Makki's laughter as they fell against each other on the bed rings out in Iwaizumi's ears, but it's Oikawa's wistful smile that fills his vision.
The sheets are cool and clean against his burning face.