Iwaoi/Oiiwa OneShots

Praise Be 🍞

Oikawa is kind of surprised at himself for not noticing sooner.

He is in the middle of dragging a clean towel over his face, wiping off the sweat from practice when it happens for the first time. He unscrews the cap of his water and takes a long, refreshing gulp. He presses the cold bottle of water to his cheek, relishing in the feel of its coolness against his skin. Lazily, he lets his gaze trail over the gymnasium. The underclassmen, tossing balls into the ball bins. Hanamaki and Matsukawa, wrestling over something or another across the court, laughter ringing through the air. Iwaizumi, discussing plans with their coach like the good teammate he is.

Oikawa's gaze trails over the spiker. He has grown into his body in an unfairly delicious manner. He is broad shoulders and taught, sinewy muscle beneath smooth, tanned skin. Strong, beautiful arms that Oikawa personally loves to trail his fingers over, teasing the sensitive skin at the underside of his biceps. Powerful legs that carry him high into the air for his spikes and quiver when Oikawa runs his tongue along his inner thigh.

Oikawa tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, thoughts wandering to the places that Oikawa would like to take Iwaizumi once they're home and alone in their apartment.

"I'm proud of you, Iwaizumi." Coach says, clapping a hand on the spiker's shoulder. "The control of your spikes has been improving immensely. You're doing a really great job."

Fascination sparks in Oikawa's brain as he watches Iwaizumi flush and sputter at the compliment. His ace, usually so composed and confident, his dependable pillar, looks flustered and embarrassed. Coach laughs it off and goes to talk to Hanamaki and Matsukawa - probably to yell at them to stop messing around - but Iwaizumi is still blushing as Oikawa approaches, towel around his neck and curiosity in his mind.

The flushed tint of his skin spreads all the way from the tips of his sensitive ears - Oikawa knows how sensitive they are - down below the safe cover of his shirt. He looks like he might actually cry. Oikawa memorizes the sight, completely enraptured by the response. "Iwa-chan," He says, soft and slow as he steps up next to his best-friend-turned-boyfriend, "Are you feeling okay?"

Iwaizumi's gaze turns toward Oikawa and the flush of embarrassment begins to fade, much to Oikawa's disappointment. The spiker runs a towel over his face and down his neck, mopping up the sweat on his skin. "Yeah, I'm fine." He says, but his voice is a little hoarser than normal.

Oikawa categorizes the moment into a file in his brain titled "Things to Investigate Further" and then he grins and snaps his towel at Iwaizumi's backside, starting a war that Iwaizumi does not hesitate to jump into.

---

It happens again two days later in Oikawa's childhood kitchen. They're visiting Miyagi for the weekend, at the request of Oikawa's mother, who insists that she just misses her two boys so much, Tooru, won't you two come to visit? Oikawa leans against the kitchen counter, texting Hanamaki about some conspiracy theory they were discussing in their Psychology of Film course. Iwaizumi is sitting on one of the island stools. Oikawa's mom slides a plate of curry in front of the spiker with a bright and charming smile that matches the one Oikawa often wears and then presses one into Oikawa's hands.

"Oh, Hajime." His mother says with a lamenting sigh, reaching out to run her fingers affectionately through Iwaizumi's hair before patting him on the back. "You've really grown into quite the handsome young man, haven't you? I remember when you boys were just tiny little things trying to catch bugs in the backyard. And now, look at you! So big and strong and I hardly get to see you anymore."