Vivid Doses ; Iwaoi oneshots !

[10: rainy days / comfort]

Fun fact! I actually started writing this two years ago! I'm not sure why I never finished it then, must've lost inspo along the way, but when I stumbled across it two days ago, I couldn't help but want to finish it. I was feeling pretty down last night so I wanted to write a comfort type of fic to go through catharsis  or something. I think it worked.

Anyway, hope you guys are keeping safe! Reading all your comments make me super giddy and happy, I'm glad you're enjoying the angst (well...that's debatable) but I've been practicing more fluff these days so might see more fluff soon.

AKAASHI BELIEVES IN YOU!

—

Oikawa perched by the corner of his bedroom window, watching the storm clouds brew overhead. Draped below layers of blankets and under the warmth of a warm chocolate drink, he shuddered as the thought of the storm penetrated his tranquil mind.

You couldn't tell he was terrified at first. He always tried his best. But you'd see the fear deep into his gestures, the way his hands would tremble as he lifted the mug to his lips, the way he'd flinch after the sudden clapping of thunder and the jolt he got when he watched the streaks of light  strike the ground, like he himself had been hit by lighting.

You'd also think that since his hometown was by the coast, he'd be used to heavy rains and thunderstorms. His mother was a victim of this phenomenon. When she left their house on a thundering evening, she never went home. He waited for her to come home. The days after her departure, he waited for the thunderstorm to come back just to see her again. When the thunderstorm came back eventually, Oikawa knew he was a fool to think the rain came with slivers of joy. No, the rain always came under bitter skies and roaring winds. When it came back, it only brought fear. Resentment. Never his mother.

Oikawa, amidst a trembling grip on the mug,  was deeply engrossed in his own thoughts, trying to distance himself from the storm that was ranging outside. His classes weren't called off today, and he could feel the nudging of his school uniform from within his dresser but he didn't feel like moving.

He always tried his best to hide his fear of thunderstorms. And he believes he hides it quite well, considering even his best friend, Iwaizumi didn't know of it.

Until today.

Before he could start fixing himself for the day, he heard a swift knock on his door—to which without any prior signal afterwards—opened just when another clap of thunder rang overhead. Perfect timing. That made him jump a few inches into the air.

"What the—Iwa-chan!" He loosened his grip on the mug. He watched as it shattered on the floor below him, liquid seeping through the now broken cracks. Oikawa could literally feel the electricity buzzing in his bones, tingling through him, although he wasn't sure if it was because he was scared or flustered. "Iwa-chan!" Oikawa repeated, pulling the blanket closer to his chest, his eyes swooping between Iwaizumi and the spilled coffee on the ground. "Why—what are you doing here?"

"It's raining," Iwaizumi said nonchalantly, shuffling towards Oikawa and the remains of Oikawa's alien themed mug.

"Yeah," Oikawa forced a chuckle, despite the mushy lump in his throat making it sound more choke than laugh. Up on his cheeks, he swore someone had lit a fire to his face, feeling all warm and weird with Iwaizumi's unexpected arrival. "S-so? Nothing I can't handle."

"You couldn't handle it obviously. See how the handle of your mug is smashed into pieces on the floor?" Iwaizumi retorted, a ghost of a smirk cracking beneath his cold facade.

Orange flames turned blue, temperatures around him increasing exponentially. Oikawa resisted the urge to melt right there. Out of his silly infatuation for him or embarrassment, he also didn't know. "Of course it isn't about the handle of the cup!"

"You're such a dumbass, you know?" Iwaizumi muttered as he drew closer as offered his hand. Oikawa gladly clasped his around his, an electrifying feeling sending more heat waves through his arm as his cold skin came in contact with Iwaizumi's warm one. "I know you're scared of the thunder."

"Don't be silly, I-I'm not scared of t—"

A bellowing roar shook the house as another clap of lighting zapped the tree right outside his house, this time the loudest Oikawa's ever experienced, and the next thing he knew, he was entangled in Iwaizumi's arms, his own wrapped around the man's back, as he buried his head on his neck, trembling.

"You're shakin' like a rabbit, you dumbass," Iwaizumi's voice was low and rough on his ears but Oikawa couldn't hear the usual aggressive tone he had with him. Deep beneath Iwaizumi's deeply carved stone cold attitude towards him, there laid parts of the brick that weren't hardened in the fire, that remained soft as clay.

"I'm not," Oikawa tried to protest, but found himself choking back a sob, found the tears stinging his eyes as Iwaizumi held him, found himself reliving that day where he heard the wheels rattle under his mother's suitcase as she slipped through the entrance, remembered watching her leave without getting to say his final goodbye.

Did she find her way to the other side of the storm or did she get lost along the way? Oikawa never knew.

The rain tapped on his window pane like a metronome, a beat, a reminder of the presence of his own demons in the shape of the downpour.

"M-Maybe I am," Oikawa mumbled, sniffling as he felt the tear trickle down his cheek. "Doesn't mean I'm weak."

"I never said it made you weak."

"My mom. She left me."

Iwaizumi held him tighter.

"They were shouting. I couldn't tell the difference between what was their voice or what was the rain."

Oikawa paused, a sob escaping his lips, his cheeks as wet as his windows, except there wasn't any light to reflect a rainbow afterwards. He could wait days for the rainbow to come but there wasn't enough in his eyes to reflect all the colors at once. Sometimes all there was was blue. Or red. Or black. Yellow was always a distant shade to him.

Now, he could see red, but it wasn't the red that usually came with the rain. It was a red closer to orange than bitter purple, a red closer to love than to resentment. Closer to a fireplace than a burning house.

"Y-You gunna make fun of me, I-Iwa-chan?" Oikawa mumbled, afraid of lifting his head and having to meet Iwaizumi's stormy eyes.

"No." The word rolled off Iwaizumi's tongue easily, no second guesses. "No, of course not." He cemented it. "Fuck. Did you think I would?"

"Yeah," he replied, barely above a whisper.

"I wouldn't. You're a piece of shit of course but I wouldn't. God, no."

"Y-You said I was shaking like a rabbit."

"There are better things to hold onto than that pride of yours, you ass."

Oikawa lifted his head ever so slightly. "Like your hand?" He suggested, hopeful.

Iwaizumi didn't reply however when Oikawa slipped his fingers right through them, he didn't protest. 

Perhaps the rain did bring its own sort of comfort too.