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Tick. Tick. Tick.
The air was unusually quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of the clock. Oikawa was laying against his bed frame, his soft brown locks curling around his ears in an unruly manner. He was wearing one of his ugly alien t-shirts. Normally, Hajime would be internally fretting over just how cute Oikawa was, with his disheveled hair and thick, fluffy socks. This side of Oikawa was a rare sight, after all. However, today Oikawa seemed to be bothered by something. He had been scrolling mindlessly on his phone for about half an hour, his brows tightly knitted together and his shoulders tense. He seemed withdrawn. Apprehensive, almost nervous.
Since when was Oikawa Tooru nervous?
Hajime frowned. He wasn’t going into one of his moods again, was he? Oikawa usually only got that look on his face when he was feeling insecure, mostly about his volleyball skills, or right before a match against a tough opponent. Or perhaps before he asked a girl out? For the most part Hajime had knocked enough sense into him to stop him from worrying over Kageyama or Ushiwaka. Oikawa had also decided to stop dating around in order to focus on volleyball and his studies, so it was unlikely that he was hung up over a girl.
So what was it then?
“I can practically hear you thinking from here, Iwa-chan. What’s got you so concerned?” Oikawa all but sang. His body still held most of the previous tension, but Hajime started to see a familiar playful glint in his eyes. “Don’t try too hard, Iwa-chan! You’ll fry your only brain cell!”
Hajime almost scoffed at that. Oikawa was the one who looked like he might’ve just cried at any given moment, and he was concerned about Hajime?
“Shut up, dumbass.” The jibe was almost an automatic response, built up after years of putting up with Oikawa’s bullshit.
“Iwa-chan, you really need to get more creative with your insults. Oi, Shittykawa, oi, dumbass. Asskawa, you idiot.” Oikawa said the last part in an exaggerated baritone, and Hajime guessed that it was supposed to be an impersonation of his voice.
“Headass. I do not sound like that at all.”
Oikawa’s eyes lit up in faux excitement. “Ooh, that’s a new one! Wow, Iwa-chan, you might have a brain after all!”
“Just一Ugh, I can tell something’s bothering you. What’s going on, Oikawa? Is your knee bothering you again? I can get some ice from the freezer, if you want.”
Oikawa’s eyes widened a fraction. “No, don’t worry about it! My knee is fine. I’m fine. I’m not acting weird. At all.”
Now Hajime was really worried. “I swear to god, Shittykawa. We’ve been over this. I’ll go get some ice and一”
“No need, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa cut him off. “I promise, it’s not my knee this time.”
Hajime’s frown deepened. “Then what is it?”
“Nothing, don’t worry your ugly ass head over it!”
Hajime rolled his eyes and shifted over from where he was sitting on the bed. He grabbed his wrist, gently pulling his face closer so he could inspect it.
Then, the most amazing thing happened. The unflappable, cocky, confident Oikawa Tooru’s milky white complexion changed to that of a tomato within seconds. The rosy red blush spread across his collarbone and painted the tips of his ears.
“Holy shit, you’re really red. Are you sick?” Fuck, was it a fever? “Of course you would get sick, only you would so carelessly get sick.”
Oikawa let out a squeak in response. “N-No, no way! I don’t think there’s anything I could have done to get sick.” He seemed to be getting redder by the moment. Damn, he must really be out of it.
Hajime pressed two fingers against Oikawa’s forehead, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. Idly, he thought about just how soft his hair was, and Hajime had to resist the urge run his hands through Oikawa's silky, chocolate-coloured curls. “Hm, you’re not that warm. But wow, you’re even redder now. Do you need some medicine or something?”
“Spoken like a true future doctor. Good job, Iwa-chan!”
“Fuck off.”
Oikawa’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “Has anyone ever told you that you have such a potty mouth, Iwa-chan?”
Hajime ignored his comment. “Shut up. Anyways, you didn’t answer my question. Are you gonna be okay? I can call your mom, maybe she can pick up some soup or medicine on her way home.” He dropped his hand from Oikawa’s forehead,
“Really, there’s no need for that. I’m fine, Iwa-chan!”
Hajime's forehead creased in worry. Oikawa didn't seem to be lying. “Okay, fine. If you aren’t sick, why were you so fidgety earlier?”
Oikawa’s shoulders tensed up again and he started to nervously play with his fingers. “I, erm..”
“Hey, did something happen?”
“No, don’t worry, Iwa-chan. Nothing happened, it's just, well, I was looking online, and…” He trailed off, mumbling the rest of the sentence to himself.
“Hm? What was that? Speak up, Oikawa.”
Oikawa seemed to shrink in on himself. “Nevermind, it’s just something stupid.”
Hajime let out a sigh. “If it’s bothering you it isn’t stupid. C’mon, Oikawa. Spit it out.” Maybe Oikawa really was sick. His face was back to it’s natural, pale state by now, though. “Are you sure you don’t wanna lay down for a sec? You’re being really fucking weird right now.”
“Aw, Iwa-chan, you really do care~!”
Hajime gave him a pointed look. “Oikawa.”
Oikawa bit the inside of his cheek so hard it could draw blood. He took a deep breath and muttered “doyouthinkIcouldwearaskirt?”
“What? Holy shit, Oikawa. You aren’t a fucking rapper. Speak slower.”
“Do you...Do you think it would be okay if... I wore a skirt to school?”
Hajime blinked. “You mean like the girl’s uniform?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Hm, well the school would probably allow it. A lot of girls in my classes like to wear the boys uniforms, too, when it’s too cold outside. So yeah, you could probably ask the principal for a skirt.”
“Oh.”
“Is that what you were worried about? Goddammit, I thought you were dying or something, Oikawa.”
“You...You don’t think it’s weird or anything?”
Hajime shrugged. “It’s the twenty-first century, do whatever you want. Rules that come with clothing are just stupid, anyway.”
“Will other people think I’m weird? Makki and Mattsun? The team?”
Hajime snorted. “Hanamaki and Matsukawa are probably just going to make some disturbing comments about your legs. I’m sure the rest of the team won’t bat an eye, either. Wearing a skirt is far from the weirdest thing you’ve done, anyway.” Hajime dodged a jab from Oikawa at the last comment. “Seriously, anyone who judges you isn’t worth your time, anyway.” Plus, you would look really cute in a skirt.
Oikawa’s posture relaxed and he nodded. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Thanks, Iwa-chan.”
Fucking hell, he was so whipped.
***
It happened on Monday. Hajime had offered to accompany Oikawa to the principal’s office first thing on Friday. He could tell the setter was still uneasy about the whole idea. Oikawa had accepted gratefully, and he had finally decided to wear the skirt the following Monday.
“Morning, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said in greeting. As usual, he arrived at his doorstep so they could walk to school together.
Hajime’s breath hitched as he took in Oikawa’s outfit. He wore his usual pale beige sweater vest, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. The skirt ended right above his knee and showcased his slender, toned calves. Hajime forced himself to tear his gaze away from Oikawa’s annoyingly perfect legs and looked back up at his face.
“Morning, Shittykawa.” He hoped his face wasn’t too red.
“Iwa-chan, it’s too early for insults!” If Oikawa noticed Hajime’s staring, he didn’t comment on it.
“It’s also too early for your bullshit. C’mon, we gotta get to class.”
“So mean, Iwa-chan!”
As expected, Hanamaki and Matsukawa were all over Oikawa’s new look. “Whoa, get it, captain!” Hanamaki hollered. Matsukawa let out a loud wolf whistle. Oikawa seemed genuinely pleased at the compliments and grinned back at them.
Oikawa’s fangirls also had a surprisingly positive response, though looking back on it Hajime shouldn’t have been surprised at all. They fawned over his new look, squealing about how cute he was. Hajime might have even seen some boys looking over, too.
Hajime was most definitely not jealous.
***
The entire day, to put it plainly, was literally hell.
Oikawa was in the majority of his classes, and Hajime has often caught his own gaze drifting towards Oikawa's seat in the third row. He was making that cute face when he was trying to understand a problem, the tip of his tongue resting on his upper lip, his face scrunched up slightly in confusion. His legs were crossed, the skirt hanging down ever so slightly exposing a strip of his outer thigh.
Fuck, he was staring.
Hajime had to force his gaze back onto his own paper (for what could have been the 20th time that day) and prayed that Oikawa didn’t notice.
You did this to yourself Hajime thought, and immediately felt like slamming his head into the desk so hard he would just pass out. And maybe die. And go to heaven where he wouldn’t have to be tortured with the image of Oikawa Tooru’s fucking legs—
Hajime’s head dropped down onto the desk with a resounding thud.
***
Hajime didn't fare any better at lunch, either. As usual, they were eating on the roof along with Hanamaki and Matsukawa. The conversation flowed naturally, with mostly Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Oikawa doing the talking. Hajime would only occasionally chip in with a sarcastic comment or a noncommittal grunt. Hajime wasn't paying too much attention to what they were saying, he was too focused on the way Oikawa’s face lit up while saying the most stupidly endearing things, something about the aliens—
“Iwa-chan! Are you even paying attention?”
“Hm? O-Oh yeah, of course.” Hajime said in a gruff voice.
Oikawa gave him a weird look. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting a little off. ”
Hajime waved a hand through the air. “Don’t worry about it. I’m good. I’m great, actually. Just fine.” He heard Hanamaki snicker quietly from beside him.
Matsukawa cleared his throat. When Hajime looked at him, he was smirking, a mischievous look on his face that had Hajime’s brain screaming at him to just run the fuck away.
“Ah, captain! Say, why don’t you and I step away for a second and grab some snacks? I heard they’ve stocked some milk bread for the brand you like.”
“Subtle.” Makki muttered under his breath,
Clearly, Oikawa didn’t pick up on the aura of pure evil that radiated off of Matsukawa, because he let out a shrill shriek of delight and quickly ushered Mattsun out the door. Before they left, Mattsun shot a wink at Hajime and blew Hanamaki a kiss. “You know what to do, babe. ”
Makki caught the kiss and grinned. “Got it.”
“Shut up.” Hajime said before Hanamaki could even begin speaking.
“Now, vice-cap. No need to be so rude. Mind explaining what’s got your panties in a twist?”
“Please, never say that ever again.” Hajime groaned, running a hand over his face. “And please shut the fuck up.”
“So rude! Anyways, I guess we could call this arrangement an intervention. Do you have any idea what for?” Hanamaki asked, his lips twitching up to form a smirk.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Hajime lied. He could feel the tips of his ears begin to burn red.
Hanamaki’s shit-eating grin only grew wider. “Oh really? So you have absolutely no idea about your big, fat, gay crush on a certain setter?”
“Shut up, Makki.” Hajime knew his entire face was probably red as a tomato at that point.
“Aw, Iwa!” Makki cooed. “There’s no need to be embarrassed! But if you don't want him to find out, maybe try keeping the ogling to a minimum, yeah?”
“I was not— ”
“You were, and you and I both know it. Instead of watching him like a creepy stalker, why don’t you just, y’know, confess like a normal person?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I know, I know. Believe me, I know.” Hanamaki ran a hand through his choppy pink hair, his face softening a little. “But we’re graduating in a couple months. It’s now or never, Hajime.”
Hajime made a strangled noise in response.
“Oh my god, just buck up and do it. Mattsun and I cannot take another second of your god awful pining. I’m pretty sure the entire team knows about you guys. That includes Kyotani, the guy who has the emotional intelligence of a brick.” Hanamaki took in a breath. “Just— Just think about it, okay? I think...I think you’ll find out it’s worth it.”
Makki’s tone surprised him. It was oddly gentle and unlike him, and woah, was that advice—
“And try not to stare at our setter’s legs too much today at practice, yeah? I know you think they’re some national treasure, or whatever, but the Interhigh’s are soon, and some of us want to practice— ”
“Shut up, Hanamaki. ”
***
Despite Hanamaki’s excellent advice, Hajime was not able to keep his ogling to a minumum during practice, even though he was wearing the same shorts he always did.
Hajime only then noticed, as he watched Oikawa play, that every time he jumped to serve, his shorts would ride up a little, exposing the bare patch of skin above his knee.
Again, why did he do these things to himself?
He had spent the entire practice distracted, the image of Oikawa's blushing face while he stood in a short plaid shirt seemingly imprinted onto the back of Hajime's eyelids. Hajime mentally slapped himself across the face. Focus.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t help but think about Hanamaki’s words. Truth be told, it was actually good advice, but Hajime was still plagued by the fear of losing his best friend.
Oikawa had been looking at him weird all practice. Hajime couldn’t blame him; his spikes were sloppy and only carried a fraction of their usual force.
Hajime gritted his teeth. The interhighs were important. They had to beat Shiratorizawa and Karasuno. The were going to beat them, but they weren’t going to do it while their ace was too focused on a fucking crush.
Hajime’s next spike held so much force it almost broke Watari’s arms.
***
The walk home with Oikawa had been eerily silent. Oikawa was being oddly quiet, and it was beginning to worry Hajime. Normally Oikawa would be chatting his ear off excitedly, and Hajime would be groaning at him to shut up.
However, Oikawa didn’t utter a single word to Hajime. Normally, he would be grateful for the break from Oikawa’s constant yammering, but not today. Today he felt distant, almost cold.
Hajime frowned. “Hey, ‘Kawa. You okay? Why are you so quiet.”
Oikawa just sniffed and said “M’ fine, Iwaizumi.” His words we clipped and his tone was harsh. And wait-Iwaizumi?
If Hajime wasn’t alarmed before, he certainly was now.
“Did I do something? Why’d you call me Iwaizumi?”
Oikawa gave him a blank stare. “Well, that is your name, isn’t it, Iwaizumi?”
Okay, something was very, very wrong. Hajime reflected on the past couple hours. What did he do to get this treatment from Oikawa? Everything had seemed pretty ordinary, nothing out of the blue. “Ok, quit it. You’re freaking me out. Seriously, what's wrong?”
"You're asking me what's wrong?" Oikawa asked incredulously. "You’ve been staring at me weird all day!”
Iwaizumi’s throat went dry. Oh, that was what it was about. Had Oikawa figured it out, then? Was Iwaizumi really that transparent? Dammit, did Oikawa hate him now?
“Listen一”
“No, you listen! You said you wouldn’t judge me! You encourage me to do this and now once I’ve finally worked up the gut, you just start acting all funny and staring at me like I'm from another planet! Am I really that disgusting, Iwa-chan? If you don’t agree with it, you should have just said so from the start, not lied to me and stabbed me in the back!”
What the fuck?
“Huh? What are you talking about?"
Oikawa scoffed, but his voice was wobbly. “The skirt, Iwa-chan! Don’t play dumb with me.”
Tears began to fall from Oikawa’s eyes. Hajime’s eyes widened. Oh no. This was bad. Fuck, he had to fix this.
“You think I’m staring because I think you’re gross?”
Oikawa’s face held the same angry expression, but confusion settled over his features as well. “Um, yes? Why else would you be staring at me?”
“Wow, and you like to call me dense.”
“I-Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just-forget it. I’m sorry you thought I was staring because I thought you were weird, but that’s not why. Okay? Can we go home now?”
Oikawa placed his hands on his hips seemingly unconvinced. “Not yet. Why were you staring then, Iwa-chan?”
Suddenly, the air seemed to get ten degrees hotter. “Does it really matter?”
“Yes, Iwa-chan. If you don’t tell me, I’m going to assume you were lying and actually think I’m weird.”
Oikawa almost looked like he was going to start crying again. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained with tears. Hajime hated this, hated that he was the one who made him look like that. The one that made Oikawa look like the whole world was crumbling. Fuck it.
“Fucking hell. You-you’re just really fucking cute, okay? You were already pretty as fuck without the stupid fucking skirt. Now you’re pretty much the cutest fucking thing on the planet, and I literally couldn’t concentrate because of your stupid fucking legs.” Hajime's eyes widened as he realized what he had just said. Fuck.
Well, you’ve really outdone yourself this time, Hajime. Fucking things up has been quite the trend for you lately, hasn’t it?
“I'm-I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
After a few moments of silence, Hajime dares to take a peek at Tooru's face. It isn’t covered in disgust like Hajime had expected. Instead, his face mirror’s Hajime’s own blush. Oikawa seemed to be frozen as he let out a strangled squeak.
“Um, hello? Earth to Tooru, you there? Listen, if it’s really that bad, I can leave. I’m sorry for-”
At that, Oikawa sinks onto the ground, his face buried in his hands. He lets out a series of more incoherent grumbles before wailing “Iwa-chaaaan! You bastard! You idiot! You can’t just say all that stuff!” His voice was still nasally from crying.
Hajime’s heart sinks to the floor. He really messed everything up. “Ah, shit-I’m sorry. Uh, nothing has to change? I won’t let my stupid feelings get in the way of our friendship.”
Oikawa looks up at him, cheeks still stained red. “Stupid, stupid Iwa-chan! You really are the densest, aren’t you? And you had the nerve to call me dense! The audacity to still be so kind and considerate!” And as if he remembered something, he buried his face back in his hands and let out another whine. “And oh my god, Hajime! You can’t just call me by my first name! I’m going to have a heart attack before I can even accept your confession!”
Hajime? Confession? Accept?
Hajime’s brain was reeling from all these newfound emotions. What the fuck was going on?
“Wait—Accept?”
“Well, duh! I’ve liked you forever! I was so sad too! I thought you hated me!” Oikawa was practically on the ground at that point.
Oh. Oh. “I could never hate you.” Hajime said softly.
"Well, I know that now! Oh my god, Iwa-chan. You don't know how painful it it was, liking you. I dreaded the day, the day you would find someone better, someone who deserves you, and I—"
"Hey, no more talking like that, okay? I love you, and you're perfect. Stop with this self-deprecating bullshit. You deserve the world, Tooru."
Oikawa looked at him, frozen in place and eyes wide. His cheeks were still flushed, and he seemed to be at a loss of words.
And the great Oikawa Tooru fainted.
***
“I love you too, Iwa-chan.”
“Hm?”
They were sitting in Hajime’s room, doing homework. After Hajime had hauled Oikawa’s ass up from the pavement, they headed back to Hajime’s house, matching grins on their faces.
Oikawa propped himself up on his elbows. “I don’t think I got to say it back, so I'm saying it now. I love you, Iwa-chan."
Hajime laughed softly, cheeks tinged pink. "Love you too, Shittykawa."
They worked in silence for a little bit, but if Hajime was being honest, he wasn't paying too much attention to his homework. Oikawa had already given up a while ago, leaning his head on Hajime's shoulder with a contented sigh.
"I will love that skirt forever.” Oikawa whispered out of the blue.
Hajime let out a laugh and dropped his pencil. He turned to Oikawa pressed a soft kiss to his hair. “Sure, Shittykawa.” He paused for a moment. “And by the way, you should totally wear it again, you looked adorable in it.”
Oikawa grabbed one of Hajime's arm with a pout, and Hajime felt him bite onto it. "I said! Stop! Doing! That!" He bit down three times to enunciate each syllable. Hajime couldn't see that well, but he was sure Oikawa was burning bright red. "It's not good for my heart! I've already fainted once, at this rate you're gonna kill me, Iwa-chan!"
"Really, that's all it takes? Damn, if I had known getting rid of you was the easy, I would would have started complimenting you a long time ago, Prettykawa."
"Iwa-chaaan! You can't insult me and give me a cute nickname at the same time!" Oikawa buried his face in Hajime's shoulder and let out a low grumble. Something about 'Iwa-chan's too perfect, oh my gosh, I'm gonna die.'
"Aw, you're cute when you're flustered."
"Hajime, shut up!"