.

He slips off the bed in a soft, silent movement and he gives a quick glance at his sleeping partner, his eyes resting on her face for a moment. She sleeps peacefully, with no sign of worries or regrets, though he expects this night to become one of them.

Oikawa averts his eyes from her, suddenly feeling a tightness in his throat. He shakes his head and swallows dry, a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

He crouches down on the floor and gathers his clothes, the scent of alcohol drifts to his nose and he pauses, briefly closing his eyes. He can feel nausea creeping in and memories of the previous night flash in his mind. The dim nightclub and all the empty glasses on the table in front of him, his friends on the dance floor with lazy grins, the girl's hand on his groin…

Bruises colorfully mark his body, bright red scratches on his lower back. It always feels good for a while but in the morning, he always regrets it… But he keeps doing it because of what, or rather who he really wants, he cannot have.

When Oikawa's sure he's not going to vomit his stomach contents, he dresses in a hurry, and without a second glance at the sleeping girl, he slips out of her apartment.

The crisp morning air greets him, the cold softly creeping in on his ungloved fingers. His breaths are puffs of smoke swiftly fading away in the cold breeze.

Oikawa hastens his pace, his mind empty of anything other than reaching the train station as quickly as possible, and the gnawing hole in his stomach makes him want to run.

…

He places the key in the door but before he has a chance to do anything else, the door opens. He takes a step back only mildly surprised.

Iwaizumi comes into his line of sight; his eyes widen. "What happened?" Iwaizumi's voice is a whisper, as he reaches out for Oikawa's arm and gently pulls him inside. The bags under his eyes and his chapped lips tell him Iwaizumi's isn't sleeping well, if at all.

Oikawa gives him a small tight-lipped smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh you know, the usual," Oikawa murmurs. "Drunk guys…" Oikawa shakes his head slightly, dropping his eyes from Iwaizumi's face, he can't bear to look at him then.

Iwaizumi reaches out to touch the purplish bruise that had formed on his cheek, his warm fingers brushing his skin with a gentleness that makes his heart beat faster.

"Maybe you should stop stealing other people's dates." There's a hint of a smile on Iwaizumi's lips. It's meant to be a harmless remark, Oikawa knows, but it feels like a punch in his stomach and he takes a step back away from his touch. He feels guilty enough already.

"I should," he murmurs absent-mindedly.

They stay silent for a few minutes. Oikawa tries very hard to pretend it's a comfortable silence and steps away from Iwaizumi, he hangs his coat and scarf with a deliberate slowness. (Why wouldn't it be comfortable? They've known each other for years, and it's not like Oikawa's tendency to make bad decisions or come home after a night out in someone else's arms is anything new.)

Iwaizumi's still standing there, arms laying at his sides, his hands clenched into fists. "Hey," he calls out. "Your sister called, she's coming to the city next week and wants to have dinner with us."

Oikawa stills momentarily. "Great," he replies with fake mirth. He doesn't remember the last time they talked, though he vaguely remembers her chiding his life choices and her concerns. She'd been right.

Iwaizumi's sharp intake of breath stops him dead in his tracks. It's a ragged, scared sound that he's never heard from Iwaizumi before and it pains him more than he can say to know that it's his fault. He doesn't turn around immediately, but instead pulls down his shirt, covering the scar on his back. It's a shallow, uneven red line under his shoulder blade. He felt his shirt being pulled along with his sweater when he took it off, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"Please look at me."

"Iwa-chan, it's nothi—

"Tooru," he whispers, his voice brittle, breaking, as if he's about to cry. Oikawa remains in his place, terrified to move, terrified to look at him. "What happened? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry," he mutters, tears forming in his eyes. "I'm s…." his chest heaves up and down, he's gasping for breath, sobbing. His knees shake, buckle and he slowly sits down and pulls his knees close to his chest.

"Tooru," Iwizumi murmurs closer now, but the underserved kindness only makes him feel worse. Broad, warm hands reach him, grasp his shoulders, his thumbs running soothing circles. "Tell me what happened, please."

"A- a drunk with a broken bottle. A couple of months ago."

"A couple months ago!?"

"I'm sorry!"

"Tooru…." Iwaizumi kneels behind him, wraps one arm around him, and pulls him into his chest. "You know you can tell me everything."

It's all too much. Too much of that familiar scent and warmth, too much for his broken heart.

"No, I can't," he mutters, barely understandable from how much his body shakes.

Iwaizumi tensed. "Why… why do you say that?"

"I'm sorry," he repeats. "But you would hate me…"

Iwaizumi tugs him tighter, wrapping both of his arms around him and he lowers his chin into the crook of his neck. His breath's warm against Oikawa's skin, tingling, electrifying.

His lips brush against his ear, warm and soft, enough so to make Oikawa gasp, scared and nervous, utterly blind sighted by the sensation. "Silly Oikawa," he murmurs. Oikawa can almost feel him smile. "After all these years putting up with you, there's nothing you can say to me that would make me hate you."

Oikawa bites his trembling lower lip, brings a palm to his mouth to muffle his sob. His chest starts heaving violently again, and he stifles his gasping, trying to somewhat soften the overwhelming suffocating sensation by inhaling deeply through his nose. Tears stream freely down his cheeks.

Iwaizumi doesn't say anything for what feels like a long time. He just holds him tight, letting Oikawa get it all out of his system.

"Iwa-chan… I…" Oikawa begins, calmer, more clear-headed, but his words get caught in his throat and the only sound is his roaring pulse in his ears, a fast-paced rhythm thumping wherever Iwaizumi's touching him. Surely, he must feel it too, Oikawa thinks.

"It's okay…" the other mumbles, voice tremulous. "I know what I said and I meant it… but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I want to say it." Oikawa lets out a shaky breath.

Iwaizumi tugs him slightly in response as if to say go ahead, I'm here for you.

"I've wanted to say this for a very long time, but I was scared, well, I'm still scared but… I want to say it," he blurts out and swallows dryly, taking a breath to steady himself. "I'm in love with you."

His voice was only a whisper but in the silence, it's almost as if he's shouting. Iwaizumi stills. The all too familiar dread starts building up in Tooru, question after question, doubt after doubt swarming his mind. The longer Iwaizumi remains quiet, the more certain Tooru feels that he was right. He must hate him, or worse…. Oikawa braces himself for the cold, indifference, the disgust….

But they never come. Instead, Iwaizumi relaxes again and releases a shuddering breath. "I… I had my suspicions," he says, his voice small, vulnerable. He pulls his body away slightly, so he's facing the back of Oikawa's neck.

Oikawa's whole body is shaking, with fear, adrenaline, and perhaps most of all, anticipation.

"But I knew you also li- liked g- girls… so I never said anything, even when I wanted to…" Iwaizumi goes so still against him, and he's so close, so warm that Oikawa can't help himself, he's breathing hard and his heart beating so fast in his chest, he feels it might explode.

His mind is racing, questions blaring away loudly, demanding, but he somehow musters up the courage to ask. "Iwa-chan, do you…" the words get caught in his throat, but he's shouting them in his mind. Do you feel something for me, do you feel the same? Oikawa wants to ask. He knows it's wishful thinking, but he wants to know the answer all the same.

"Yes, yes," Iwaizumi breathes, leaning his forehead against the back of his head but Oikawa pulls away, pulls Iwaizumi's arms away from him just enough so he can he drag himself away from him, hands skidding on the floor, feet banging against the wall, until he's finally facing Iwaizumi. The other's face is flushed red, eyes rimmed with unspilt tears.

Neither of them says anything. Oikawa reaches out with his unsteady, shaky hand, and he hesitates for just a second before brushing his fingers against the other's soft skin. Iwaizumi's lips quirk into a small, crooked smile, and Oikawa smiles back.

(I intended it to be a short Valentine's day special but then it became something else. Based on the prompt: "Please look at me" from Tumblr.)