Chapter Text
"Fuck!" Oikawa swears as the teaching assistant hands out his grade. Another failing grade. If he gets another, he'll fail the class entirely. The TA gives him a look of pity, and Oikawa feels his anger skyrocket. He hates the pitying looks, the fleeting glances of sympathy when others just don't get it, especially those sent his way when his team lost the finals to go to nationals in high school.
"Look, I'd suggest talking to the professor. He's a pretty chill guy. Just go to his office hours or something. Shoot him an email if you can't make it to those times," she says, and he stuffs the paper angrily in his bag. Damn this class. Damn literature. Who even came up with this stupid subject.
As he walks away grumbling, his shoulder knocks into another student and causes their things to fly out of their hands. Great, more misfortune to add to his growing pile.
"Sorry," he apologizes as he bends down to pick up the books and papers. Handing them over, he looks up, and to his immense surprise (and pleasure), it's Iwaizumi.
"Iwa-chan?"
"Shittykawa?"
They both stare at each other for a moment before Iwaizumi takes the outstretched books with a muttered, "Thanks."
"I didn't know you had Intro to Lit!" Oikawa chirps happily, falling into step with him. Iwaizumi looks up at him and sighs, "Yup." One of the papers slips from his hand, and Oikawa stoops to catch it. Taking a glance, he jerks back.
"You got a 98 on the paper?!" he exclaims. Iwaizumi snatches it away from him and snaps it into his book.
"Shut up! Why are you so loud, Idiotkawa?"
Oikawa ignores the insult and opts to stare at him with wide eyes.
"You got a 98, when the class average was a 63." Iwaizumi's ears burn red, and he grabs his collar, pulling him down.
"Why the fuck are you so loud?" he hisses. Surprised, Oikawa can only stare at him—then an idea pops into his head.
"Iwa-chan! Tutor me?" He sees the hesitation and rejection in his eyes, and whines loudly, "Pleaaase!" Judging by his actions, he's about to say no, so Oikawa tries another method.
"TUTOR ME, IWA-CHAN. IF YOU CAN GET A NINETY—" A hand clamps onto his mouth. Iwaizumi's eyes are wide with irritation and barely suppressed rage.
"Goddammit Shittykawa! Fine, I'll tutor you. Fucking hell," he curses, and Oikawa internally cheers, but then feels a small spark of guilt when he remembers how long the pianist holes himself up in the practice room. This is for Iwa-chan's good. He needs to get out more, he thinks, nodding sternly. He successfully squashes the little bit of guilt that has flared up in his chest.
"Let me see your paper," Iwaizumi holds out his hand. Oikawa falters for a bit, hands tightening on the strap of his messenger bag. He must have looked terrified because Iwaizumi scoffs.
"Look, if you need me to help you, I need to see how you're doing." Reluctantly, he reaches into his bag and pulls out the crumpled piece of paper. He smoothes it out before giving it to him, head hanging in shame.
"Oh."
Oh, indeed.
"You're going to need a lot of help." Oikawa snatches the paper away from him and shoves it into his bag. Plastering his smile on his face, he turns to him.
"What are you going to do now?"
Iwaizumi shrugs, "I don't know. I'm done for today. Maybe I'll go practice? Get food? Don't know. I don't have much due this week." Oikawa beams and grabs onto his arm, pulling him out of the building.
"Oi, where are we going?" Iwaizumi asks, slightly stumbling as Oikawa weaves through the crowd of students.
"It's a surprise!" When he starts to protest, Oikawa clicks his tongue in disapproval. "Like I said Iwa-chan. Patience is a virtue. In fact, it's a very nice trait to have, though I'm sure a brute like you wouldn't understand that."
A kick to the shin causes Oikawa to howl in pain, but he persists and carries on towards his goal, hooking his arm around Iwaizumi's more tightly.
"The gym?" Iwaizumi asks, both eyebrows climbing with surprise. "What are we doing here?"
"Silly, Iwa-chan," he ignores the glare shooting at him, "You're here to witness your first volleyball practice."
"I'm leaving."
Oikawa grabs Iwaizumi's arm, pulling him forward, "Nope! You get to watch a practice match. Well, not really, but I'll drag you to one when we get the chance."
"God, Oikawa, I could be doing other things," Iwaizumi protests, and Oikawa whirls around, planting his hands on his shoulders. Calmly and firmly, he says, "Iwa-chan, give it a chance. Just once. If you don't like it, I won't force you to come ever again. But if you do like it, even just a teensy bit, then give it a chance." His eyes search green ones, and they maintain eye contact before Iwaizumi breaks it, looking away.
"Fine."
Oikawa throws a fist into the air, "Yay!" and proceeds to drag him through the large double doors.
--
"Iwaizumi?" Kuroo's eyes widen as they make contact with the pianist slouching against the wall. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
Iwaizumi snorts, "Your captain is persistent."
Kuroo leans in close, a sharp smile slicing across his face, and crosses his arms, "Oh? Is that so?" Iwaizumi looks away, "He said I could leave if I didn't like it."
"Well, this is something. I spend almost two years trying to convince you to come to a game, and yet," his roommate slaps the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically, "with the snap of his fingers, Oikawa can get you to come." He wiggles his eyebrows and leans even closer to whisper, "in more ways than one."
Iwaizumi shoves Kuroo's face away. "You're disgusting."
"But you love me."
"I endure you, asshole."
Suddenly, Iwaizumi's breath is knocked from his lungs as he's tackled to the ground by a familiar face.
"Iwaizumi!" Bokuto exclaims as he wraps his arms around him like a vice. "How're you doing, my man?" Iwaizumi gasps and wheezes out, "Just suffocating."
The ace releases his grip on him and steps back placing his hands at his hips. "Come to watch practice today? Akaashi's here too." Iwaizumi looks over his shoulder to see the exasperated young man, who makes his way over. Iwaizumi moves over, and Akaashi sits next to him.
"Sorry for that," he says, and Iwaizumi blinks in surprise, "Oh, no worries. I may have a broken rib, but I think it'll be fine." At that, Akaashi cracks a smile, and they turn their attention at the two men standing in front of them.
Kuroo claps Bokuto's back before slinging his arm around his shoulder, the both of them wearing identical grins. "Enjoy the practice!" They echo each other and Iwaizumi finds himself smiling amusedly at the two. He would have thought the two were brothers if he hadn't lived with one half of the duo for two years.
Suddenly, Bokuto squats down to eye level with Iwaizumi, and he leans in closely, "Take care of Akaashi. Make sure he isn't hit by any flying strays." Then he pulls away and flashes a blinding smile at Iwaizumi before turning to shoot a tender smile at Akaashi. Suddenly, Oikawa's voice calls for the team and Kuroo and Bokuto run off to join their teammates.
"What did he say?" Akaashi asks, voice laced with curiosity. Iwaizumi turns towards him and answers, "Nothing much."
They fall into silence as they watch Oikawa give a pep talk to the team huddling around him. Iwaizumi sighs, the curiosity getting the better of him, and he turns to the young man sitting beside him.
"Are you and Bokuto—?" The question trails off, giving him leeway to his answers. Akaashi shrugs, giving him a small smile, "That depends on what you think. Some think we're just best friends, like most of the team. Others are more perceptive, like you. The both of us—we have to stay a little secretive because you know—"
Iwaizumi nods, understanding that homosexual relationships in sports are still taboo to some extent. Akaashi looks away, and Iwaizumi follows his gaze, falling on the exuberant ace.
"But yes, I do love him, if that's what you're wondering." Iwaizumi's eyes widen and his jaw slackens, not expecting such a blunt answer from the seemingly reserved young man. "Do you ever worry?"
Akaashi shakes his head, raven locks bouncing with the movement, "There's some extent that we have to worry about. But other than that, I don't care." He locks his gaze with Iwaizumi. "I don't care that we're both men. I care that what we have is real. Gender doesn't matter in this case." He opens his mouth to respond when—
"Iwa-chan!" A frantic shout causes Iwaizumi to look up and instinctively put up his arms, curling his fingers into his fist, as he feels the ball forcefully collide with him, ricocheting into the air. Suddenly, there are hands all over him, and he looks up to see Oikawa anxiously checking for injuries.
"Are you ok?!" he asks, grabbing Iwaizumi's hand and lifting his fingers for inspection. "Can you still play? Are you hurt anywhere?" Iwaizumi tries to intervene, but Oikawa is persistently searching for injuries, and he loses his patience, pushing him away.
"I'm fine!" he shouts, because what else can he do to snap Oikawa out of it? The captain falls back onto his hands and stares at him with wide eyes.
"I'm fine," Iwaizumi repeats, tone much softer. He can't blame the guy for getting worried when a stray ball comes for an inexperienced civilian.
"Thank god, Iwa-chan," Oikawa sighs, sitting back on his hands. The worry is still very evident in his eyes, and Oikawa gives him a small smile. Kuroo runs up behind Oikawa and leans down, "Christ, Iwaizumi, you ok, man? That stray ball came at you hard. Are your hands ok?"
Iwaizumi groans, "Yeah, yeah, I'm ok. I might not do sports, but I do have some reflexes. You guys should get back. And tell everyone to stop staring." Oikawa stands, and the duo stare down at him, making sure that he's actually all right. Iwaizumi motions for them to go, and they turn, but not before Oikawa shoots him one last glance.
"That might bruise." Iwaizumi turns his attention to Akaashi, who's staring at the point of impact. In all honesty, Iwaizumi expected that the moment he entered the gym. He figured there might be an injury (or more) involved. He didn't expect it to happen so soon.
"It's fine. I expected that," he says as he turns back to the practice. They fall into a comfortable silence, breaking it occasionally as Akaashi explains who each player is and what their positions are. Then he explains the plays and the various methods.
"Do you come to these often?" Iwaizumi asks, eyes trained on Oikawa, watching the way he leaps up with grace to set the ball to Bokuto, who slams it down with brute force.
"No, not really. I only started coming recently. Volleyball's the only thing Bokuto-san talks about really," is the quiet answer Iwaizumi receives. "Also, I played in high school, so I know how the technical things work, but not all of their plays. I have to rely on him for those."
"Which position?"
"Setter." Suddenly, a thought occurs to Iwaizumi, and he turns to him, "Wait, you played volleyball in high school and played the piano?"
Akaashi shrugs, "There were a few injuries. But it got to the point in my third year where I had to pick between the two, and I chose volleyball. Speaking from experience, they're not that different. Volleyball and music, I mean. Ah, I think they've finished. They're stretching."
Iwaizumi turns his gaze towards the team. His mouth dries when he sees Oikawa lift his arms into the air, shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of pale skin. Swallowing thickly, he stands with Akaashi, and they both stretch from sitting so long. Thank god because he's sure his ass would have gone numb if he had stayed sitting for another hour.
"How was it Iwa-chan?" He turns towards the source of the voice and his mouth sets into an automatic scowl. "It was interesting enough." Undeterred, Oikawa positively beams, and Iwaizumi relocates his gaze.
"Go shower. You stink."
"Mean, Iwa-chan, mean!" Oikawa squawks, though he doesn't actually sound mad. "I'll only be gone for a moment!"
Iwaizumi huffs, and leans against the gym wall with his arms crossed. His face falls into a series of straight lines when he notices Kuroo and Bokuto making their way over, drenched in sweat and both wearing shit-eating grins.
"So how was it?" Kuroo asks, falling into the same position as Iwaizumi, as Bokuto scoops Akaashi up in a large hug despite the latter's desperate protests. He nods, "It was interesting enough, though you smell horrible."
"That's what the showers are for."
"Then why aren't you there?"
"Most of us wait until Oikawa's finished."
"Is it just awkward? Or—"
Kuroo snorts, and the sound is amplified in the large space. "No, his singing is enough to deafen a normal man. Only brave souls venture into the showers with Oikawa."
Bokuto, who'd apparently overheard, nods vigorously in agreement, placing Akaashi down, much to the latter's relief.
At that, Iwaizumi cracks a smile. Interesting.
--
Oikawa exits the locker room, gym bag slung over his shoulder, and he feels his smile brighten at the sight of Iwa-chan leaning against the wall. When he notices who he's talking to, his smile slips from his face, turning into a scowl. Quickly, he makes his way toward the quartet.
His scowl deepens when he hears a sigh from Kuroo that sounds suspiciously like "Finally." The middle blocker and ace both make their way to the locker room, and Kuroo turns to walk backwards, shouting, "I'll see you later, roomie," as Bokuto lets loose a loud laugh that echoes around the gym. Iwaizumi says a quick goodbye to Akaashi, and the two exit the gym, falling into step with each other.
"What are you going to do now?" Oikawa's eyes flicker to Iwaizumi, who shrugs.
"We have something due tomorrow for lit, don't we?" At that, Oikawa throws back his head and groans.
"I completely forgot."
"Of course you did, Shittykawa." Suddenly, he whips around to stare at Iwaizumi with wide eyes. "Tutor me now?"
Iwaizumi scoffs, and Oikawa pouts. "You're serious?" Iwaizumi asks, incredulity evident in his tone. Oikawa beams and nods. Iwaizumi keeps narrowed eyes on the volleyball captain, and Oikawa fidgets nervously, heart pounding as he waits for an answer.
"We can get coffee! My treat," he blurts out, and Iwaizumi sighs in resignation.
"I don't need coffee this late." Oikawa lowers his head and purses his lips in thought.
"But I'm up for some tea." At that, his head snaps up to stare at Iwaizumi, who has a small smile tugging at his lips. Looping his arm around Iwaizumi's, he drags him towards a quaint cafe hidden at the corner of campus.
Pushing open the door, Oikawa welcomes the fresh scent of ground coffee beans, the ring of the bell as the door easily slides open, and the faint murmur of not-really-studying college students. They pause in front of the menu, and Iwaizumi grunts, "Just green tea is fine. I'm going to go look for a seat."
Oikawa practically skips to the counter and places their orders and turns to see that Iwaizumi has chosen a seat in the corner of the shop, away from the chatter. Oikawa grins—typical Iwa-chan. Soon, he grabs their orders and makes his way to where Iwaizumi has already started to type on his laptop.
"Here you go," he chirps, setting down the green tea carefully on the table. Iwaizumi barely glances at it, nodding to let him know that he had heard him.
"What did you get?"
"Hm? I got the mocha frap!" He holds out the drink and Iwaizumi takes a small sip, face scrunching up.
"God, that's sweet. How do you not have diabetes?"
"Aww, Iwa-chan is worried about my health?"
"Shut up. I'm more worried for your team's hearing." Iwaizumi smirks triumphantly. It takes a good moment for that to process, but when it does, Oikawa's face curls into offense.
"Did—Kuroo—? They told you?" he splutters, face burning, and he's sure he's turning an interesting hue of red. Iwaizumi takes a quick sip of the tea, looking over at him with raised eyebrows and piercing green eyes.
"What? I meant with all the yelling that happens during matches and from your coach, I'd be a little worried for your hearing as well," he says casually, but Oikawa hears the teasing undertone and pouts, wondering where all his own confidence has disappeared off to.
"Of course!" he exclaims, setting down his drink and pulling out his laptop. He knows that trying to play cool isn't working when Iwaizumi is observant to anything that's relevant to Oikawa's embarrassment, so he tries to change the subject.
"What's our assignment again?"
Iwaizumi's face quickly gives way to exasperation and he flips his laptop around so that Oikawa can see the screen.
"We're working on an assignment on poetry. Remember the one we read today?" Oikawa racks through his brain and comes up with nothing, which apparently shows on his face because Iwaizumi reaches over and flicks his forehead.
"Did you pay attention today? Do you even try in that class?" he sighs, tone annoyed, but Oikawa picks up that he doesn't actually mean it.
"It's not my fault I don't like the class. I like my other classes just fine. I mean, lit is just an elective," he pouts.
"What do you even study?"
Oikawa perks up, happily taking the chance to switch topics.
"Astronomy!"
Iwaizumi's eyes widen fractionally in surprise. "Really? I would have pegged you to be marketing or advertising." Oikawa tilts his head. "What makes you say that?"
Iwaizumi shrugs. "You're charismatic." It's a statement, something said casually, rather than a compliment. Oikawa feels heat climbing the back of his neck, which stops when Iwaizumi tacks on, "and you're loud and annoying."
"Iwa-chan! How could you?" Iwaizumi ignores this and points towards the computer screen.
"So today, we read this," he points at the poem, "and we're supposed to write what we think the poem is about." Oikawa's face blanches, and he feels it scrunching into annoyance.
"Don't make that face, Shittykawa. It only has to be two pages long." Oikawa groans, slumping on the table.
With great effort, Oikawa pulls himself up and digs through his backpack to grab his laptop. Cracking it open, he quickly connects to the wifi and pulls up the assignment. Giving the poem a quick skim, he wonders how he got himself into such a hard literature class.
"What do you think?" Iwaizumi's question pulls him back into reality, and he says, "It's a poem on love?" It comes out more as a question than a statement.
"Yeah, good start. What else?"
"There are flowers?" Oikawa is surprised Iwaizumi hasn't snapped at him yet. He nods and motions for Oikawa to continue.
"Do the flowers represent the poet's lover?" Iwaizumi turns his laptop away from Oikawa and starts typing. He hums as he sips his tea, "You have a good start, so go off of that."
Determined to impress his tutor, Oikawa takes a large gulp of his drink and begins to write, the words coming out faster and easier than he had anticipated.
After all, if you're going to hit it, hit it until it breaks.
--
Iwaizumi peers up from his laptop at the man sitting in front of him, eyelashes casting long shadows onto his cheeks as he types on his laptop, eyes squinting as he tries to analyze the poem in front of him. He wonders how this all started, with Oikawa literally falling into his practice room and how his life went downhill from there.
As he observes him, he wonders how he could be so—pretty is the only word that pops into mind. Oikawa's features are delicate, from the way his cheekbones are structured to the way his hair flops into his face, causing him to push the brown locks out of his sight.
Oikawa looks up from his intense concentration and his eyes meet Iwaizumi's.
"Did you already finish, Iwa-chan?"
Iwaizumi nods and motions to his laptop, "I finished twenty minutes ago. You?" Oikawa purses his lips and says, "I finished one and three quarters of a page, so I'm almost done. Can you read over it when I finish?" Iwaizumi nods and sips his tea, pulling a face when he recognizes that it's now at a lukewarm temperature. He scrolls through the PDFs of his music library, trying to pick out which song to play tomorrow. In the middle of mentally playing Chopin's Nocturne Op. 27 No. 2, his laptop screen starts swaying back and forth, and he looks up to see Oikawa tapping at the cover.
"Iwa-chan, I've finished."
Iwaizumi shuts his laptop and puts it to the side, sliding Oikawa's toward him. He skims the paper and is impressed at how deeply Oikawa's thoughts are regarding the poem. There are a few mistakes, but overall, the ideas and evidence are presented thoroughly.
"This is good," he mutters, scrolling as he rereads the paper. "There are a few grammar mistakes, and this one section here needs a bit of clarification," he highlights the paragraph, "but overall, this is good. Give me a second to edit it." When finished, he turns it back to Oikawa and slides it towards him, but his actions falter when he notices how Oikawa has perked up considerably, face proud as he beams at Iwaizumi.
"What?"
"Nothing. Thanks Iwa-chan. I owe you one," he says as he leans over to reread over his work, paying attention to the highlighted marks Iwaizumi has made on his paper.
Iwaizumi pauses, mentally weighing the costs and benefits of tutoring Oikawa. The cons seem to outweigh the pros, but then he realizes he doesn't care. He likes spending time with Oikawa.
"I don't mind," he starts slowly, glancing away when Oikawa looks up from his paper, eyes shining with curiosity.
"Hm?"
"Tutoring you, I mean." He waits for the jab that Oikawa probably has ready for him. When it doesn't come, he looks up to see a fond smile gracing his face. He feels his ears heat up, and he averts his eyes.
"Thanks, Iwa-chan." Iwaizumi is certain the back of his neck is now a horrible shade of red.
"You really are a tsuntsun, aren't you?" Oikawa tacks on.
"No," Iwaizumi bites out, and they're back to witty remarks and relentless teasing.
When they finally leave, it's already dark outside, and they make their way to the dorms, taking their time to stroll through campus. Iwaizumi's baffled at the amount of time they spent at the coffee shop, talking to each other and bantering like old friends. Despite Oikawa's charismatic demeanor, he finds that the volleyball captain is a lot deeper than his first impression.
They both reach the dorms, and Iwaizumi finds that he doesn't want to end the conversation with Oikawa, despite wanting to slap him upside the head half the time they're chatting. Finally, they part ways, and when he reaches his room, he flops onto the bed, ignoring Kuroo's shit-eating grin and lazy comments.
"How was today?"
"It was fine." His voice is muffled by the pillow he's stuffed his face into.
"Have a nice date?"
"Shut the fuck up, Kuroo."