Part 3
Tooru can't breathe.
He's hearing the words Iwaizumi is saying, watching the way Iwaizumi is pushing him away and feels every single word slam into his heart as he hears his precious Iwa-chan spit, "Leave, Oikawa, and don't come back."
He hears a strangled "what?" slip past his lips and vaguely wonders how he managed to get that much air to speak.
"Go away, and don't come back. Ever."
Tooru is blinded by his love for Iwaizumi like he's blinded by the late afternoon sun that frames Iwaizumi, softening his edges and giving him and ethereal glow. It's the cruelest image, watching his best friend and almost-lover walk away from him framed by the sun they've spent so many days playing under.
He's blinded by the sun framing Iwaizumi and doesn't see it until he's turned around halfway to walk away, but the satisfied smirk on Iwaizumi-san's face makes Tooru want to scream, run, hit something at the realization that his happiness is being denied by the man whose grasp on his son is so tight it's suffocating him.
Somehow, he makes it home before the tears come, the sobs ripping out of him so forcefully he coughs and his lungs feel like they're on fire. He collapses against his mother when his legs give out from under him and her terror is evident as she runs her hands up and down his back, pulling him to the couch and holding him to her as he sobs. Tooru can't remember the last time he cried.
"Tooru-chan, what's wrong?" And Tooru knows she's worried now, she hasn't called him 'Tooru-chan' in years.
And he tries; tries to force the words out past the choked feeling in his throat, past the tears and the heartache suffocating him, but the only thing he can manage to say is 'Iwa-chan' over and over.
She doesn't ask again, just pulls him closer to cradle his head to her chest, pulling his legs across her lap and wrapping her arms around him tightly and really, he's much to big for this. But he relaxes against her and fists his hands in the soft fabric of her sweater because his Iwa-chan was so casually ripped away from him and he feels like there's a bleeding hole in the middle of his chest where his heart used to be. He watches as the colors of their friendship and his love for Iwa-chan drip and ooze from him with each new sob and his world fades from the bright technicolor of dreams realized to the dull grey of dreams you once held in your hand only to watch them be taken away.
It's like this that he finally manages to calm down enough to drift off into sleep, but when he wakes again it's only to realize that the world is just as grey as it was when he closed his eyes.
Tooru can't wait for school to end. Each day he has to go to school and volleyball and see Iwaizumi and pretend like nothing is wrong. Pretend that they just had a falling out—friends drift apart all the time in high school, that's how it goes—and if Tooru starts to spend more time with the admiring girls who follow him around school with stars in their eyes, then, well, he's just finally making time for a girlfriend, isn't he.
The worst is volleyball.
He has to fight every instinct to throw tosses to Iwaizumi because with every toss he calls 'Iwaizumi-kun' instead of 'Iwa-chan' and it rips away the scab in his chest every time, the pain as vibrant and aching as it was the day Iwaizumi pushed him away.
He's given a scholarship to a university in the city for volleyball and accepts it immediately. He's one step closer to the national team and one step farther away from the last place he was happy.
He walks up to the student dorms and thinks that maybe, maybe now that he's finally away from that toxic town and those toxic people he can move on, be happy again and learn to love someone else.
Maybe now he can finally move on and get over his love for Iwaizumi.
He struggles for a moment to get his keys into the lock, shrugging his duffle bags higher on his shoulders as he tries to juggle keys, bags and boxes all at once. Why does he have so many clothes.
It takes him a second to shuffle his things in the door, distantly hears his roommate talking, probably introducing himself—he really could not care less—and Tooru looks up at his new roommate and feels the smile freeze on his face.
His eyes sweep over the familiar form of Iwaizumi, bent over his desk, forehead creased as he struggles to untangle a knot of chords.
Tooru knows he's been silent too long when Iwaizumi finally looks up at him and flinches in shock. "Hey, Iwa-chan." The words fall heavy into the silence between them and Tooru just drinks in everything about Iwaizumi. He spent the whole summer after their senior year making a marked effort to avoid Iwaizumi at all costs. His eyes travel over the sun-bronzed skin, the added bulk to his arms and torso from working with his dad. He drinks in the sharp lines of his face, the way his cheekbones look a little sharper, his mouth a little firmer as Iwaizumi frowns at him in shock.
"Hey, Oikawa," Iwaizumi chokes out finally, and Tooru remembers with a flash of agony so physical he sees purple smear across the canvas of his vision in bright streaks that it was Iwaizumi who did this.
"The right side is fine," Tooru says, and turns his back to Iwaizumi as he drags his bags to the other side of the room and begins to unpack. He doesn't turn around, doesn't even acknowledge Iwaizumi's presence in the room because, how can he?
Except.
His memory supplies him with another image, one he has almost managed to forget, of Iwaizumi's dad smirking while Iwaizumi pushes him away. He knows, knows, that this isn't what Iwaizumi wants; that it was never his choice, really.
His memory starts replaying moments across their friendship and with each new memory Tooru breaks a little more.
There's the time, one of hundreds, when Iwaizumi hangs back and waits to shower after practice until the rest of the team have gone home, only to reveal the scariest patches of black, green, purple, blue and red marring his skin that Oikawa has ever seen on a kid as young as they are.
Or the month when they were fifteen where Iwaizumi could barely go up for a spike because—and Tooru feels the sting of tears behind his eyes at this—the left side of his body is a violent splash of red and black. Tooru remembers running his fingers over the bruises painting his side the first time he'd seen it and breathing 'Iwa-chan, this isn't from a fall,' only to have Iwaizumi shrug off his concern with a simple 'my dad drinks too much.'
Dozens of memories like this flood him, and he doesn't realize he's crying until Iwaizumi is in front of him and reaching out to brush a tear from his cheek. It all comes crashing together in one sudden realization that knocks his feet out from under him as he collapses on his freshly made bed. "You did it because of your dad, didn't you," he says into the terrible silence between them.
Tooru doesn't need Iwaizumi to answer to know he's right. Part of him feels silly that it took him so long to figure it out in the first place. Of course it was his dad. Why else would Iwaizumi make such an effort for Oikawa to never be seen by his father.
"Oikawa, I'm..." Iwaizumi starts, hesitates, seems like he's at a loss for words.
"It's fine, Iwaizumi," Tooru cuts him off. "I understand."
"I'm sorry," Iwaizumi breathes, regret falling from him like leaves from trees in the fall.
Tooru finally manages to look up at him and he can see the pain in his eyes he's been keeping locked away for who knows how long. "I know, Iwaizumi. Me too." And he gets up, walks over to his bags and begins to put clothes into drawers.
The silence between them stretches and tightens until it's a humming, tangible thing.
It remains unbroken for weeks.
It's been a month and Tooru can't take the silence anymore. The only time he's dared speak to Iwaizumi is in volleyball, but even then, they're rarely on the same side in practice matches and Tooru can never seem to find the right words.
He craves something, anything but Iwaizumi has never been the talkative one of the two of them and it's always been up to Oikawa to talk, to fill the spaces between them with chatter and laughter. The pressure to do the same again weights on him and he waits for the right moment to break this stalemate between them.
He doesn't know how long he'll have to wait until Iwaizumi learns that it's not too late, that this broken thing between them can still be fixed.
It's fitting, then, that the first interaction between them isn't a word, but a touch.
Tooru returns to the dorm late, stressed, and exhausted from his day. He's spent the last five hours in the library writing a paper and his body craves sleep like a druggie craves a hit. He enters their room as quietly as he can, aware that Iwaizumi went to sleep hours ago and is certainly asleep by now.
He quickly strips down and throws on a cotton shirt and his favorite pair of grey sweatpants and is about to crawl in bed when he hears it: a quiet whimper in the darkness.
He freezes, halfway into his bed, and listens for the sound. It comes again a few seconds later, louder this time and with a definite note of distress. Tooru looks over slowly to where Iwaizumi lays curled on his side, facing away from Tooru, facing the wall.
Tooru stands, petrified. In the month they've been living together, Iwaizumi has never had a dream that caused him to make noise in his sleep. The silence reigns for another long moment, long enough that Tooru is about to crawl all the way into bed and go to sleep, when Iwaizumi chokes out a strangled 'no please don't!' and Tooru is across the room and hovering over Iwaizumi in the space of a heartbeat.
Iwaizumi is crying in his sleep, silent tears streaking across his cheeks and into the pillow and Tooru reacts on instinct, smoothing his hands gently across the planes of Iwaizumi's back, stroking a hand across his forehead and through his hair. He's desperate to rid Iwaizumi of the deep crinkles in his forehead that scream distress.
Iwaizumi flinches under his touch, letting out a sharp 'no, stop!' in his sleep, and Tooru doesn't know what to do. Iwaizumi is a heavy sleeper, Tooru knows it would be hard to wake him up, and so he does the only thing he can think of to make Iwaizumi feel safe again in the realm of sleep. He lifts the covers and crawls in, pressing his chest up against Iwaizumi's back and wrapping his arm around his waist.
Tooru can feel the tremors in Iwaizumi's body, can feel the way he's shaking and his muscles are tense when he's supposed to be relaxed in sleep. Tooru presses his nose in the soft strands of Iwaizumi's hair and they're longer than they used to be.
Gradually, slowly, Iwaizumi's tremors get softer and slower, until they've stopped completely. Tooru presses his hand to Iwaizumi's chest, feeling as his heart rate slows from the rapid pace it had been. Only then, when Iwaizumi's breathing and heart rate have slowed back to the deep and even beats that come with heavy sleep does Tooru allow sleep to finally take him, pulling him down into the warmth and peace, the smell of Iwaizumi lingering with him and following him into the land of dreams.
Hajime wakes slowly, easily, just before he knows his alarm is going to go off. It's quiet in the room, and very, very warm. He's drifting again in that place of semi-awareness when he feels someone shift slightly behind him. It comes slowly still, the realization that someone is pressed up against him in the bed, their arm wound tightly across his chest. He looks down and sees the long, slender fingers of Oikawa pressed right up against his heart.
It's at this moment that his brain offers up the memory of his father threatening to kill Oikawa if he ever sees them together again, and even if the threat is far away and out of reach, Iwaizumi still reacts on instinct, jolting awake and shoving Oikawa away from him so forcefully that Oikawa rolls off the bed and onto the floor with a shriek loud enough to wake the dead and probably half of their dorm.
"Iwa-chan you brute!" He shrieks from the floor, and it's the first thing he's heard Oikawa say in weeks and it's so absurd that this, this is their first interaction that he laughs out loud. He leans on his elbow and peers over the edge of his bed into the glaring face of Oikawa, who is sprawled on the floor and rubbing the back of his head.
"Sorry," Hajime says through a chuckle. "In my defense, I woke up with someone in my bed who wasn't there when I fell asleep."
"You were having a nightmare!" Oikawa says in outrage. "What did you expect me to do, let you suffer?"
Hajime feels his dream rush back at Oikawa's words and shudders. It had been a bad one from when he was little and didn't yet know how to protect the spots the would hurt the worst. He shakes it off and says, "Just wake me up next time."
"Like you ever would. Do you know how heavy of a sleeper you are?" He must look at Oikawa blankly in response because Oikawa just huffs and says, "I've literally played music out loud all night while writing a paper and you didn't stir once. There was one time when Yaku came over to borrow my stapler after you'd gone to bed and we had a conversation at normal speaking volume for almost an hour and you didn't even move."
Hajime sighs. "Fine, just," he pauses, trying to find a way to tell Oikawa to keep his distance without sounding like an ass. "Don't do it again, okay?"
Hajime feels like he's kicked a puppy when he sees the hurt flash across Oikawa's face. "Sure thing, Iwaizumi-kun," Oikawa says softly, getting up and grabbing his things for a shower. Hajime regrets saying anything, especially since he knows he wants nothing more than to pull Oikawa back into bed with him and into his arms.
A dull ache spreads out from the center of his chest, throbbing all the way to the tips of his fingers and he hates it. He's desperate to make the aching stop, but he doesn't know where to start.
By the time he's worked up enough nerve to say, "Oikawa, wait," he's already halfway out the door and he doesn't wait for Iwaizumi to finish, letting the door close with a quiet snick behind him that seems louder than thunder in the silence he leaves behind.
The worn and scattered pieces of his heart splinter.
Hajime fights with the ghost of his's father's touch for another month. By day he attends classes, does his homework, and plays volleyball, but by night he's plagued by the dreams that are really just memories from when his father caught him off guard, unprepared, or worse, woke him up, with a stinging slap or punch over something that he'd failed to do right, again. He knows, objectively, that his father is far away from him, that he hasn't answered a single call from his father in the two months he's been at college, that his father cannot tell him what to do any longer.
Hajime is free to do whatever he wants for the first time in his life. He can stay out as late as he wants, be friends with whoever he wants, love, whoever he wants and yet. But when he closes his eyes at night his father is waiting for him, always ready to hand out punishment regardless of whether or not he deserves it.
Sometimes he wakes himself up, a scream just about to slip past his lips as he sits upright in bed so fast his head spins, and finds Oikawa watching him from where he's studying at his desk, the room dimly lit by a single desk lamp. "You okay?" Oikawa always asks softly.
"Yeah," Hajime breathes, never willing to tell Oikawa about the demons he battles in his sleep. "I'm fine."
"Okay," Oikawa breathes before turning back to his homework. But Hajime can see by the look in his eyes that he doesn't believe him for a second, and maybe that's why Hajime finally stops actively pushing him away; why when the next time Oikawa asks if he's alright after he wakes up screaming he says, "No, not really," and watches Oikawa nod slowly before turning back to his homework.
The next really bad night he has comes just before finals, three and a half months after school started, and it's the kind of dream you're trying desperately to wake yourself up from but you can't, no matter how hard you struggle, until the dream is done with you.
It's fitting, then, that the dream is about his father.
He's fifteen again and his father throws him against the wall in anger before kicking him in the ribs where he lies on the ground. Just like it happened all those years ago, he hears the snap as his rib gives way and the bright burst of pain in his side. Unlike when it actually happened, this time Oikawa is there, rushing to stand over Hajime protectively.
Hajime watches in abject horror as his father kicks Oikawa's right knee in from the side. Oikawa collapses in front of him, screaming in pain, and clutches at his knee. Hajime is helpless, unable to stop his father as he winds up and delivers another punishing hit to Oikawa's face.
It's when his father grabs a shard of glass from a broken picture and dives for Oikawa that Hajime finally manages to jerk himself awake. He leaps out of bed in a panic and rushes across their room, desperate to know that Oikawa is alright.
He yanks off Oikawa's blankets, ignores the sleepy protests completely and feels along Oikawa's legs in the dark until he finds his right knee, heaving a relieved sigh when the knee is whole and undamaged.
"Iwa-chan, what's wrong, are you okay?" Oikawa asks sleepily, sitting up on his elbows and looking up at Hajime quizzically.
It's this, the sight of Oikawa only caring about whether or not he's okay that finally breaks him apart. "I…I…" he stutters, and feels the burn of tears behind his eyes. "I had a dream that my father…that he…and your knee," he knows he's not making sense, but he can't make the words form and shape the words necessary to describe the horrors he just lived through in his head.
In the end, it doesn't matter because Oikawa takes his hands off his knee and pulls him into his bed. Hajime doesn't fight it, instead he allows Oikawa to pull him in, shifting until his back is against the wall so that Hajime can crawl under the sheets and press his nose into Oikawa's chest, reveling in the feeling of him whole and unharmed beside him.
"Talk when you're ready," Oikawa breathes into the quiet, and Hajime wraps his arm tightly around Oikawa, pressing him closer to him and pinning his own arm to Oikawa's chest between them, feeling the steady beat of Oikawa's heart as he centers himself around it.
Oikawa is completely still beside him, arms limp around Hajime as he allows Hajime to seek comfort in his arms without actively giving it. "It was a nightmare," Hajime finally whispers into the warm darkness. He continues when Oikawa stays silent. "I was fifteen again, and it was the night my father broke one of my ribs. You remember, don't you, how I couldn't spike for a month?" Oikawa nods in answer, and Hajime presses on. "It happened just like it did in real life, except after he kicked me you jumped in front of me to keep him from hurting me anymore," Hajime feels a tear leak out the corner of one eye and fights to keep his voice steady.
"I couldn't do anything except watch as he broke your knee, ending your career in volleyball, and dove at you with a piece of glass." Tears are spilling quickly from his eyes beyond his control, and he doesn't bother to wipe them away. "I have been trying to protect you from him my entire life, keep just one thing untainted by him, and I've failed on both accounts."
"Oh, Iwa-chan," Oikawa whispers brokenly, and he wraps his arms around Hajime and holds him tightly, pressing his lips to the skin of his forehead gently. Hajime feels the scattered pieces of his heart start to slide slowly closer together with the returned embrace. "He can't hurt you anymore, and he'll never be able to hurt me."
"Oikawa," Hajime chokes, somehow managing to speak past the lump in his throat. "I don't want to take that risk. I can't lose you. Not again."
But Oikawa shakes his head, rubs soothing circles into his back. "Sleep, Iwa-chan. We'll talk about this when finals are over."
Hajime lets Oikawa soothe him back into sleep, feels the steady rhythm of Oikawa's heart beneath his fingers and drifts back into the warmth and comfort of a dreamless sleep.
Things settle and ease between them, and Hajime feels a sudden lack of tension, feels something loosen in his chest that he didn't realize was there until it's gone. He feels lighter, breathes easier when Oikawa is with him and it's not the same as it was, but it's closer to the ease they used to have.
It's late. Hajime is almost asleep when he feels Oikawa crawl into bed beside him. "Iwa-chan," Oikawa whispers into the stillness.
"What," Hajime breathes, still not fully convinced he's not dreaming.
"Are you staying here for the break?" he asks into the darkness.
"Yeah," he says. Hajime reaches out and searches for Oikawa's hands in the space between them without opening his eyes. "It's better than going home." His fingers find their way in between Oikawa's.
"Come back with me," Oikawa says after a pause. He moves closer, one of his legs slipping between Hajime's as he minimizes the space between them. "Come and stay with me and my parents. They would love to see you again."
Hajime considers, tries to ignore the fluttering in his stomach at Oikawa's closeness. The last thing he wants to do is encounter his father again. He reaches out and slowly, gingerly, pulls Oikawa to him until their chests are pressed together, their already entwined hands pinned between them. Hajime feels the soft, featherlike strands of Oikawa's hair tickle the tip of his nose and feels complete for the first time in almost a year. "I don't want to see my dad again," he pauses, and Oikawa tenses up in the time it takes him to finish his thought. "But I want to be away from you even less."
Oikawa relaxes all at once, going boneless around Hajime, making him realize how tense Oikawa has been the entire time.
"It's my turn to protect you, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says, and it's a promise whispered into the quiet of the room.
Tooru can't breathe.
There's this burning, aching feeling blossoming from his chest and he can't seem to take a deep breath around it. He wishes he could blame the feeling on finals, but he took his last one hours ago and the feeling is still lingering in all the empty places between his ribs.
He knows what this is. It's not the first time he's been left breathless by Iwaizumi, and for better or worse, he knows it won't be the last.
He's sitting on his bed, waiting for Iwaizumi to finish up his finals, when it hits.
The attacks are few and far between, but they all come on differently and Tooru is never prepared, never sees them coming.
This time the wave of anxiety hits so swiftly he's knocked off his feet and dragged into the deep by the undertow. He feels his heartrate double, his hands start to shake, and he curls onto his side on his bed. His breathing echoes loudly in his ears, like he's underwater, and he fights to get enough air into his lungs.
A detached, calm part of his brain notes that this is probably because Tooru convinced Iwaizumi to spend the break with him and his parents back home. His brain unhelpfully points out that it's because of Tooru that Iwaizumi is going to be within reach of his father for the first time in months, just when he'd stopped having nightmares every night and finally started reaching back out to Tooru.
His brain is not helping.
This is how Iwaizumi finds him, curled on his side in bed in a sweating, shaking mess. "Oikawa, what's wrong?" There is panic in his voice, like he wants desperately to make it stop but doesn't know how. His hands hover over Tooru fretfully, not sure whether he should touch him or not. Evidently, he decides to touch him as his hands settle on Tooru, one on his back, the other tangling through the strands of his hair.
"Iwa. Iwa we can't go back," Tooru feels the words rush from between his lips in a flood of emotion. "I'm…call my parents…tell them we have extra practices over the break."
"No, what?" Iwaizumi sits on the bed next to him. "Oikawa, they haven't seen you in months, of course we're going." His hand moves in steady circles against Tooru's back.
It's not helping.
"But…your dad, and…so much pain," he gasps, aware that he's not translating thoughts to words very well, but he can't think much beyond the suffocating panic creeping its way up his throat. Behind him, he's aware that Iwaizumi has stilled, and he wonders if he'll push him away again, just walk away and let him deal with his panic on his own.
Instead he feels the bed shift as Iwaizumi lays down behind him and presses against him from behind, a hand wrapping around him to press against his rapidly beating heart. For the first time in an hour, Tooru takes a full, deep breath.
As he exhales, he makes a visible effort to relax his muscles, slow his breathing, and steady his hands. He focuses on Iwaizumi's steady and even breathing behind him, matches the pace until his heart rate drops down to a normal pace. Iwaizumi remains quiet, waiting for him to break the silence between them first. "I'm scared of what will happen if your dad finds out you're back in town and staying with my family. I don't want to see you hurt again when you've been safe for so long." He feels his throat tighten in that terrible way it does just before he cries and he really doesn't want to cry because he knows he's an ugly crier. "I said I would protect you but I don't know if I am strong enough on my own."
He feels Iwaizumi nod against his back before he feels a soft press of lips to the bare skin of his neck. "Should the worst happen, we'll deal with it like we deal with everything."
Tooru laughs, but it's really more of a sob. "And how's that?" he manages to choke out, the words slightly garbled through the tears he's fighting.
"Together," Iwaizumi says simply.
Tooru feels his heart swell with light and he feels brighter than he's felt in months. He wonders if all this time spent dreaming has really been long enough to fix the bleeding heart beating against his back. He relaxes into Iwaizumi, relishing the warmth emanating from him. "What do you mean, Iwa-chan?" Tooru asks, hardly daring to believe. Surely, after all this time, it's not this simple, this easy to fall back against Iwaizumi like he'd never left at all. Surely it's not this easy for Iwaizumi to heal and come back to him.
"I mean, that we're stronger together, so why the hell did we ever let anything tear us apart."
Tooru tries to hold back the tears but they won't be stopped and they fall from his eyes in a small cascade of blue. He rolls over and flings his arms around Iwaizumi, burying his head in the space between shoulder and neck like it was meant to be there all along. With each shuddering sob, he feels the last of the greyness in his life bleed away, and when he manages to look up at Iwaizumi the world is painted in bright technicolor again, rainbows refracting around the room through the prisms of his tear-filled eyes.
Iwaizumi looks at him and gives him his own watery smile. Slowly, like he's afraid that if he moves too quickly Tooru will shatter apart in his arms, he reaches up and cups Tooru's face to bring their lips together.
It feels like taking his first breath of fresh air after being underground for years, the way their lips slot together, as if there had only been hours and not months separating each kiss. He considers himself lucky, really, that he had forgotten how easy it is to kiss Iwaizumi, how when he runs his tongue along Iwaizumi's bottom lip it's as natural as breathing.
Tooru whines when Iwaizumi licks into his mouth, overloads with the feelings of a longing so intense finally being satisfied after months of not realizing just how much he's missed this.
He shakes when Iwaizumi rolls him onto his back, his hands running up the smooth skin of his torso and pulling his shirt over his head. It's so easy to let Iwaizumi dictate the pace, to let him trail his lips slowly down the ridges that he's made of, tracing the definitions with his tongue like he's trying to memorize them. Tooru is suddenly desperate to see Iwaizumi, to run his hands along that smooth skin because only getting to do it once was not enough. He yanks Iwaizumi's shirt over his head and gasps when all he can see of Iwaizumi is the smooth, lean lines of his torso moving beneath tan skin.
Beneath beautiful, unmarred skin.
He bends as Iwaizumi rids them both of the rest of their clothes and then it's skin on skin, the sensations causing his heart to glow with happiness and heat to pool in his stomach.
He breaks when Iwaizumi slides down around him, the sensations of filling and being filled too much to handle in a single moment. Iwaizumi bends down to capture his mouth with his own, tongue moving in and out of Tooru's mouth in time with his movements on top of him.
He's helpless beneath Iwaizumi. It's all he can do to fist one hand his hair, grip his hip with his other hand and meet Iwaizumi, thrust for thrust until they're both shaking and moaning with the emotions humming between them in a swirling, vibrant clash of color.
"Oikawa," Iwaizumi moans into his mouth, breathless and aching around him. "Tooru, I've missed you so much."
Tooru knows, finally, that he's managed to dream Iwaizumi's heart back together. No longer is it bleeding dark colors of blue and red, but instead it's shining bright like his own, their hearts matching each other's in dying winter light. "Iwa-chan," he cries, finally unraveling as Iwaizumi presses hot and tight around him. "Hajime," he whispers between them, tenderly touching a hand to the sharp lines of his face, and that's all it takes before Iwaizumi is shattering around him, bursting with light and happiness.
When they finally separate, it's only so that Tooru can press them both together, his head tucked in against Iwaizumi's shoulder, and breathe in tandem with Iwaizumi.
He's at the edge of sleep, the point just before you fall over the edge into dreams, when he hears "I love you, Tooru."
He smiles as sleep takes him down into the warmth of unconsciousness.
Hajime has never been more nervous in his life.
Oikawa's parents had picked them up from the train station, and if they're surprised to see him again after so long, they don't show it.
"Iwaizumi-kun," Oikawa's mom says, wrapping him in a tight, warm hug. "It's so good to see you again, dear." She releases him and steps back, looking at him with a critical eye. "Let's get you home and fed, you look too thin."
Behind him, Oikawa squawks, "What about me? Kaasan I'm your son."
"Oh, you're fine," she says, brushing away his concern like cobwebs in the corners of the room. "Iwaizumi-kun needs it more than you anyway."
Hajime snickers as Oikawa sputters in indignation, his father patting him consolingly on the back. "Come on boys, dinner is waiting."
Hajime forgets what a normal family life is like. It's a foreign and strange feeling for him, this sense of belonging somewhere. Perhaps the strangest thing is Oikawa's mother, constantly hugging him and touching him tenderly. It's a touch he's never known really, the touch of a mother, and while it's strange at first, as the days pass in the Oikawa home he finds that he craves them more and more.
Hajime finds a peace with Oikawa's family that he's never before had in his life. He doesn't have to worry here, about being ambushed, struck when he least expects it, or knocked around without warning. For the first time in months, he goes an entire week without a nightmare, although Oikawa sneaking into his bed every night may also factor into that.
It isn't until halfway through the break that the peace is abruptly shattered.
They're eating dinner when a harsh pounding at the front door makes them all look towards the hallway.
Hajime's stomach drops and he knows who it is even before Oikawa's father gets up to answer the door. Oikawa's hand finds his under the table and laces their fingers together, squeezing gently.
"Where is my son?" His father yells, and Hajime can see the way both Oikawa and his mother finch at the unmasked anger in his voice.
Hajime doesn't know if he feels worried or not by how calmly Oikawa-san says, "He's here. He's spending the break with us."
Hajime can't see his father's face from here, but he doesn't have to in order to know exactly what expression he's making. There's a sound of a scuffle and then Hajime is looking at his dad for the first time since he left for college without looking back. He doesn't know what it was that he expected, but it's definitely not that nothing has changed about his father. He's exactly as he remembered him in his nightmares.
"Hello, sir," he says out of habit. Under the table, his fingers are going numb with the strength of Oikawa's grip on his hand.
"What do you think you're doing, boy?" His father seethes at him, slowly walking over to the table.
"I'm spending the break with the Oikawas, sir."
"Who told you that was okay?" He hisses, his hands fisted at his side. "Last I recall, you were staying up at school for the break."
Hajime can see Oikawa's father out of the corner of his eye watching their interaction carefully, and it takes him a moment to realize that he's ready to protect Hajime from his own father. He feels his heart swell with fondness for this family. "Oikawa invited me to come and stay with him and his family over the break, and I accepted his invitation," he says, his eyes never leaving his father's face.
"Well, you can spend the rest of the break in your room, in my house." His father points angrily towards the door. "Get your things, you're leaving, now."
Hajime sees Oikawa's mom start to say something and he speaks before she can to keep her out of the line of fire. His hands are shaking.
"No, sir," he says, and he wants to throw up at the effort it takes to defy an order from his father.
"Excuse me?" His father asks, in the tone of voice that usually means Hajime is going to end up with something broken by the end of the night.
Words finally fail him in the face of his father's wrath. Never before has he challenged his father on anything ever, always bending to his will in the vain attempt to avoid breaking completely. I didn't work, really, but he tried.
"He's staying here," Oikawa says next to him, and Hajime can feel the tremors running through him, knows the kind of fear he's fighting against personally, and admires him that much more for speaking despite it.
Hajime's father shoots a furious look at Oikawa but doesn't say anything. Hajime feels the tight band of worry around his lungs ease a bit. It's enough that he manages to say, "I'm not leaving with you. Not now, not ever."
Never before has Hajime seen his father this angry while sober. It's jarring to realize that his open defiance is what brings his father to the level he's currently at. He doesn't think about what would have happened if he'd been brave enough to try this when he was younger.
"You're still my son, boy, so you'll do what I say, when I say it."
"No," he says simply, and while he says it softly, there is no doubting the ring of finality.
"I think you should leave," Oikawa's father says, gesturing back to the door.
Hajime is expecting a fight, expecting his father to drag him away kicking and screaming and for him to ignore Hajime like he has done for the last eighteen years of his life. Instead, he levels a glare at Hajime that's so intense he feels himself flinch before he can stop it. It's a look that says this isn't over.
Except it is.
Hajime's father walks out the door and out of Hajime's life and he's never felt better.
Iwaizumi Hajime is eighteen when he finally knows what it means to be free.
He spends the rest of the break with Oikawa and his family, and while he's not completely relaxed—Hajime doesn't think he'll ever be relaxed until his father no longer lives down the street—he knows that if his father comes back, he won't have to face him alone.
They return to school and fall back into their same daily routines. It's the same as it was before, nothing has changed, except that everything has. Where they were passing ships in the night before, now they're linked at the hands, inseparable unless they have to be.
Oikawa keeps playing volleyball, Hajime keeps up with his classes, and more often than not they fall asleep tangled together on whoever's bed they managed to stumble their way onto in the dark. Hajime pulls Oikawa off the court when he won't stop practicing late into the night, and Oikawa whines at him until he turns off his lamp and joins him in bed when he's up too late studying.
It's not perfect; they have moments of disagreement, moments when they fight. But they're only moments in the long of it, short blips on the steady line of their relationship, and in the end the sex is always better after a fight so.
Hajime is nineteen when he has his last nightmare. He lets go of the past and only thinks about the future.
It looks bright, his future, and the only thing he can see with certainty is the smiling face of Oikawa by his side.
Oikawa Tooru is twenty-four when he makes it onto the National Volleyball team. All those years of hard work finally pay off as he steps onto the court with the rest of his team for the first match of the season.
He's nervous, stomach fluttering as the ref blows the whistle to start the match. His nerves linger until his fingertips brush the ball in a perfect set, his eyes catching the new glint of a simple gold band around his forth finger.
That flash of gold settles his nerves, quiets his mind.
His heart beats whole and healed in the center of his chest, and it sounds like Iwa-chan.
Oikawa Tooru is eighty-five when he realizes that nobody has ever driven him as wild as Iwaizumi Hajime does, and figures that nobody ever will.
Fin