/AN: A birthday fic for my friend, omri, aka voph on tumblr!/
There was nothing weird about the close proximity they kept with one another. To Iwaizumi, it was natural to have their thighs pressed firmly together, an arm across the others back when the space became too cramped, to knock heads with the slightest dip when they turned to look at each other.
It wasn't gradual, dissolving the barrier of contact between them when they first met back in primary school. Oikawa had been just as affectionate then as he was now, maybe even more so, and Iwaizumi was just as short fused, quick to use a sharp hand when Oikawa's clamoring ticked him off.
Physical contact was in no way foreign between them, but they did start off short lived, ended with a shove or a kick in the shin from Iwaizumi. He must have grown tired of fending his personal space by sometime, because soon enough he was returning Oikawa's friendly pats and ruffles over his shoulder and hair.
It was comfortable. The drowsy heads on shoulders, the linked arms, the lingering forehead touches when they hugged after winning a match, sharing exhausted grins between each other in those moments.
Coach Mizoguchi was the first to say something, when a clap on the back between the two ended with a swaying hug in the center of the court after an especially gruelling play. The sharp pierce of a whistle was what pulled them back to their teammates, arms looped together and footsteps matching in exaggeration.
Mizoguchi pulled Iwaizumi aside later that day, while they were stopped for celebratory dinner at a quaint, family-owned place. He had a hard look on his face, like he was struggling to come up with something to say to the boy, despite having called him over to speak privately.
"You have a good team out there," he said finally, jerk his chin toward the table, where the other boys had taken to throwing wadded up napkins into each other's glasses. Mizoguchi sighed when they erupted in uproarious cheers. "A team you can trust. Your team should be an extension of your family, and if you can't trust your family... Well that's no team, I say."
"Sensei...?" Iwaizumi quirked his brow, unsure of what Mizoguchi was getting at. Of course he trusted his team, and he was sure they trusted him. They shared things with each other, told everything about themselves because they were more than a team- they were friends. They iwere/i family.
Unless they thought otherwise. It had never crossed his mind before, but maybe there was something his team felt he wasn't telling them.
His mind immediately jumped to Oikawa.
Oikawa and his incessant need to comb through Iwaizumi's hair. Oikawa who shares food with him right off his fork because Iwaizumi won't let him put it to waste. Oikawa and his post-game backrubs. Oikawa and the friendly slaps on the ass they exchange during practice, accompanied by a screeching wolf-whistle. Oikawa being all over him, sharing personal space, never not touching in isome/i way.
He'd be crazy to think no one would wonder about them. He wondered about them too after that.
Questions came up in the back of his mind, faded suspicions drifting away as easily as they surfaced, bearing no weight for his acknowledgment. Was Mizoguchi right? Was there something between them? Did he iwant/i something between them? Did Oikawa? He easily brushed those thoughts aside; there were more important things to worry about, afterall.
Maybe that's why it didn't surprise him when Oikawa kissed him for the first time, during a lazy stargaze on the back lawn, or when he found himself kissing back. It was a casual first kiss- no firework explosions of passion; just a simple lean into one another, mouths fitting together, fingers finding sharp cheekbones and thick arms and worn t-shirts to dance over. It was quick, but it was right, feeling like it was something the two had been building up to for a long time, like filling a glass with water, one slow drip at a time.
They laid on their sides after, quiet grins splayed on both faces, short grass tickling wherever bare skin touched it. Oikawa held a bright gaze, with an expression reading like he'd just been told he had the winning lottery ticket.
"What does this mean?" He asked with a tone of certainty, like he already knew the answer to the question, but asked it anyway because it was what he's supposed to do. "Are we together now?"
Iwaizumi's eyes flickered skyward, tracing an imagined constellation. He hummed and moved his hand over enough so it brushed the setter's, an easy action, comfortable when Oikawa drummed the back of his hand with long fingers.
"Idiot," he huffed, smile straining and all too big for his face, "Haven't we always been?"