A/N: A short IwaOi oneshot as I take a break from writing the long fics. (Also uploaded on ao3) Enjoy!
Scruffy Uniforms
[IwaOi]
.
"Iwa-chan, tuck in your shirt."
"Hah? No."
"C'mon, the teacher is gonna get mad at you again!"
Oikawa jumped towards Iwaizumi, who swiftly dodged by stepping sideways.
"Don't run away!"
"Go away, shittykawa!"
...
...
Last week at school, Iwaizumi had forgotten to bring his English textbook to class, so he turned up empty handed...except for a freebie pen (he got it from some weird event Oikawa dragged him to) which he continuously spun in his hand, and dropped on the table.
The noises made by the contact of the pen and the table could be heard throughout the class, since this lesson was taught by a certain nasty old hag which everyone feared.
The teacher, annoyed at his lack of interest in her oh-so-engaging history class, walked up to him and tapped his table with her long painted nails and glared down at him with a nasty look behind those horrendously thick glasses, telling him to stand up in an angry high pitched voice.
Of course, Iwaizumi just had to roll his eyes upwards to meet her gaze, not even wanting to move his head that was resting on an open palm.
Oikawa, who sat beside him whispered for him to "stop it and just listen to her!", but the black haired spiker couldn't care less and just stood up messily, causing the chair to make squeaky noises as it scraped against the tiles of the silent classroom.
"What?" He said, followed by a fierce, intimidating look that Oikawa was sure it wasn't even on purpose because Iwa-chan's face was naturally scary, and that was all it took for him to get sent to the counselor's room.
He got reprimanded for his tardiness and bad attitude, as well as his unkempt attire. Especially his unkempt attire.
He lasted through the hour long lecture on how he should become a better student with a permanent grumpy face, seeing the teachers grow more frustrated as the time passed by. And then it only took Oikawa a few hypnotic smiles and sweet words to get him out of there safely, saying that he was just stressed lately due to the recent volleyball matches, and that Iwa-chan was actually a really good kid who just needed some time to open up.
"You should stop finding trouble with the teachers, Iwa-chan! I can't guarantee your safety all the time, you know."
Oikawa had gotten hold of Iwaizumi now, one hand grabbing on to his friend's, and the other trying to stuff the bottom flaps of his shirt into his pants.
"Shut up Oikawa! I didn't ask for your help!"
"What is this! How could you ever survive without me, Iwa-chan!"
They continued struggling and wrestling, forgetting that they were right smack in the middle of the classroom. Their classmates sighed and shook their heads, already used to their antics so early in the morning. Though some of the girls were gazing dreamily at the two of them, thinking of god knows what and silently cheering Oikawa on.
Oikawa tightened his grip on Hajime's wrist to prevent him from escaping, and among their struggles Oikawa had accidentally rubbed against something he shouldn't have, which resulted in a deep blush on Hajime's face.
Slam.
Before they could say anything to each other, both their heads turned to face their first period teacher at the door. The teacher that hated Hajime. The teacher that Hajime hated. It was such a wonderful return of mutual feelings Oikawa couldn't even start to describe. The entire class went dead silent, all their attentions on her face which was red and twisted in shock with slight disgust at the sight of Tooru's hands in Hajime's pants.
Oops...?
Oikawa slowly, carefully, retracted his hand out of Iwaizumi's creased uniform pants.
Thanks to his superior communication skills, the sneaky setter managed to explain the situation properly and save the both of them from any weird issues or questions, but they were still sent to stand outside the classroom for that lesson.
"I understand that it was out of good nature, but please learn where and when to do such things." She said.
Iwaizumi folded his arms and leaned his weight against the wall, tch-ing and complaining about how it was Oikawa's fault they had to stand outside like idiots, though he didn't really mind 'cuz he didn't want to attend that stupid teacher's classes anyway. He went on about how he liked his uniform the way he wore it, and didn't need to change.
Oikawa didn't pay any mind to his complaints. He only said one thing.
"Iwa-chan, you were hard."
What the fuck?
Iwaizumi immediately turned deep red again, repeatedly saying "what the fuck" and cursing shittykawa.
"You were. I felt it."
Oikawa held up his right hand and wriggled his fingers to emphasise his point.
"Oh my god, stop doing that."
Iwaizumi grabbed the hand with those obscene fingers to make him stop, but Oikawa only smirked and didn't try to pull his hand away at all.
When Iwa noticed something off and retracted his hand, he realised he couldn't anymore because Oikawa had securely held on to it with both his hands.
"You should've just let me dress you up properly, if that's what you wanted."
No, not that stupid grin. Iwaizumi cursed under his breath for being so easily swayed by Oikawa.
He glanced around the area, paranoid that people might be throwing them weird glances, but everyone was in class and the hallways were empty.
"Hmm, Iwa-chan~?"
Fuck, no.
The next day, Iwaizumi turned up for class with his shirt perfectly tucked in. Even his tie, which always hung around his neck loosely, was neat and properly in place.
Though that was probably because if he didn't button up his collar, the strange, dubious marks on his shoulders and collarbone would be exposed.
"Great improvement, Iwaizumi." The teacher praised him and Oikawa would intentionally make eye contact and send him a knowing smirk.
Because, he knows did a good job of teaching Iwa-chan to dress well.