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Yes, sure, Oikawa did mention it once how the starry sky above Miyagi was his favourite thing before, and how he would like to see stars once more, but this. This is not what he imagined.
“Oikawa, stop moving.”
“But it's tickling me!”
“Oikawa.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll try.”
But he can’t, not really. Ushijima’s breath on his arms and shoulders is burning his skin, but the glue is cold, and so is air around, also Ushijima’s fingertips are calloused, and okay – Oikawa always was very ticklish. Not that Ushijima could have known that. Before. He does now, though.
“Are you done yet?”
“Almost. I almost finished the last one.”
“Make sure it looks pretty, Ushiwaka-chan.”
Ushijima chuckles, and Oikawa tries to relax again.
It is not uncomfortable anymore - to be sitting so close, to be so raw and open, to share touches. Oikawa is certainly getting used to it. He sometimes looks for Ushijima’s arm in his sleep, and Ushijima himself always keeps their distance one shoulder away. It is habit now, really.
Kisses are still new, but Oikawa doesn’t mind. They do make him dizzy and distracted, and this is never good when you are trying to somehow survive the apocalypse, but they are sweet and safe, and feel like home a little too much, so sometimes Oikawa cries.
Not today, however.
Today Ushijima came back from short raid to the first floor of the huge department store, that became their temporary shelter and promised Oikawa stars. And those were his exact words.
I’ll give you stars, Tooru, he said.
(Oikawa still did not quite figure out whether they are on the first name basis or not, because sometimes he is stern “Oikawa” but then he is “Tooru” again, and that shit is confusing. That’s why he is sticking with Ushiwaka-chan.)
So now, using illustrations from the discounted “2016 Horoscope for All Signs! Complete Guide by Oha-Asa!” (he also brought it with him from the lower floors, and Oikawa could only gasp at that level of dedication), Ushijima is earnestly trying to replicate zodiac constellations on Oikawa’s skin. With some lash glue and sequins for the nail art.
“Ushiwaka-chan, what is it?” Sequins are pretty. Ushijima brings the whole bag, in different shapes and colours too, so Oikawa digs inside with both of his palms, covering them in shiny little dots. “Why did you bring it? And what’s that? Glue? Lash glue? Are we having a make-up party?”
“It’s for the stars.” Ushijima takes away the bag, to Oikawa’s big displeasure.
“What stars?” Oikawa can’t help the pout. It’s a habit now too.
“You’ve said you missed them. I’ll give you stars, Tooru.”
It is rather ironic, to be honest, how Ushijima still can get under his skin. Even if now it’s in a good way.
Ushijima finds him in the first hours of the Darkness. Oikawa was hiding in the bathroom of university library, and Oikawa still doesn’t know how he managed to do it. Sure, they are on the same side of the net now, but it was only two months into the new life, new team and all that stuff, but Ushijima walks into the bathroom with those same broad strides, sits down in front of Oikawa and says “let's go” like that is normal.
While it is totally fucking not.
Everything happens so fast, that there were no explanations even on the news. TV, radio, phones – all communication shuts down the moment huge black cloud covers the sky. After that, it’s all dark.
Not a pitch black dark, but stormy night dark. Oikawa follows Ushijima through the streets of Tokyo, through the chaos and havoc, and he sees glooming eyes watching him from the shadows. It’s so scary and so confusing, that Oikawa breaks down the moment they make it to Ushijima’s flat. He cries, he screams, and he smashes Ushijima’s volleyball trophies (not that they matter anymore) and keeps asking “why?”.
Ushijima has no answers, but he lets him exhaust himself, then packs two bags of clothes, shakes Oikawa into consciousness and says “let’s go” again. He doesn’t look like he is panicking - at least until they stumble upon the first mutilated body, and that is when Ushijima sprinted into the opposite direction and even Oikawa had hard time keeping up with him.
They survive. Somehow navigating unfamiliar city, they constantly move. Oikawa is not sure, whether or not they have a particular destination, whether or not Ushijima has any idea where they are heading, but they don’t stop. Not for long anyway. They take turns sleeping, eat canned food, enjoy occasional showers (once they were lucky to stumble upon indoors swimming pool which made a good bath), and they do not talk about those who they cannot contact.
Oikawa thinks about his family. He thinks about Iwaizumi. He thinks about all of Aoba Johsai, his university team, and even others from Miyagi. Ushijima surely does the same in those moments before going to sleep, when he just freezes for a few minutes and stares into nothing, but they do not talk.
They learn how to find safe places, and they learn how to sense danger. Oikawa is good at it. Sometimes he almost tastes the bad blood on his tongue and he doesn’t say anything, he just pats Ushijima on the shoulder, quickly nods into the direction of the smell and they run. They don’t know how to fight, but Oikawa is not sure he wants to. They haven’t seen those things up close yet, and honestly, Oikawa hopes they never do.
It’s scary. It’s exhausting. It breaks him every day a tiny bit more, and it becomes more difficult to wake up and move every morning (or whenever his clock says that it is morning but it doesn’t matter anymore too), and it’s only because of Ushijima who gently shakes him, and says those same “let’s go” every single time, that he does.
Still they laugh. First time it happened week into the roaming empty streets somewhere in Akihabara. They were looking for food, but all street corner shops were already cleared out, so they ended up breaking window in some kind of maid café. Oikawa could feel his stomach trying to digest itself, that’s why he moved into the direction of the kitchen without second glance. He almost teared, when he opened warm fridge to find there week-old packaged croissants, some Nutella, and even whipped cream (though he had to decide against the latest because it started to smell strange). He took as many of croissants as he could (fitting two more into his mouth), squeezed two jars of Nutella into his pockets and returned into the main room. There he found Ushijima, lying on the disgusting fuchsia pink Hello Kitty sofa, with his legs propped up in the air on its back, and somehow it was too much. He was laughing so hard, he almost dropped everything he had in his arms, while Ushijima was giving him his best concerned look.
“Oikawa, what’s wrong?”
“Well, apart from the whole apocalypse thing, I never thought I would see number one ace, young star of Japanese volleyball Ushijima Wakatoshi, chill on the Hello Kitty couch. No, no,” he almost screams when Ushijima frowns and moves to get up, “stay there, it suits you”. Ushijima just sighs and stretches out his hand for croissants.
Then it’s easier. Oikawa gets to know Ushijima’s dry humour, and his sarcastic remarks, and they even have discussions on the topics that are not too personal. They are whispered, hushed conversations, in the darkness and silence of the new world, wherever they happen to hide that “night”.
Ushijima tells him about Shiratorizawa and how he hated mandatory dance classes during the third year of high school (“Not like we ever got time to dance”), Oikawa tells him about his favourite alien-themed movies (“Eh, well, not like we ever going to watch them now, Ushiwaka-chan, so you lost your chance”). They discuss volleyball shoes, their favourite Olympic games, and Ushijima opens up about his family, and Oikawa shares few stories about his and Iwaizumi’s adventures.
Naturally, one day (or night) Ushijima decides to drop the bomb.
“I honestly thought that you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa”.
Oikawa knows with his mind that it is stupid to get riled up now, they are not in the high school, and hell – they are never going to play volleyball ever again. Still, he snaps.
“Well, Ushiwaka-chan, I’m sorry I chose my own way and crashed your petty little dreams of playing with me.”
“I still did, didn’t I? I played against you, and I played with you.” Ushijima turns in his sleeping bag, so he is facing Oikawa, who is supposed to be on watch for the next four hours. “But yes, I always wanted to play together, to spike your tosses, to celebrate victories as one team. My father used to tell me, that through volleyball I could meet many amazing people. He was right. I met you.”
With that, he smiles and turns back, and after a few moments of silence his breath evens out.
Oikawa can’t come up with an answer. He looks at Ushijima’s back (his hair grew longer, maybe Oikawa can try to trim them tomorrow), he listens to the sound of his breathing, and smiles too.
“Yeah, your spikes are amazing too.”
Since then they are friends. Or that’s what Oikawa thinks anyway, and the thought does not scare him anymore.
It did four months ago, when one of the coaches from Aoba Johsai came to him and congratulated him on being accept to the Tokyo University.
“Playing with Ushijima might be hard, but it certainly will make you look even better! It is great training too, you never played with lefties here.”
Everything else turned into the white noise, because him and Ushijima playing in one team? No. Just no. No, no, no, no-pe. That is not happening. That could not happen, not to him.
When he called Iwaizuimi, his friend told him to stop worrying, because Iwaizumi’s Keio University team will beat Oikawa’s anyway.
(That conversation was a relief, but it also was not.)
When university finally started and Oikawa was instantly placed into one training team with Ushijima, Oikawa had to go through very short but very intense existential crisis. Ushijima’s form was perfect. His spikes were perfect. Whatever toss Oikawa was giving to him – sloppy, too high, too low, too close, too far – he scored them all. And Oikawa’s fingers itched to give that perfect toss, to match that perfect form, to get that perfect clean point.
So he gave in.
It earned both him and Ushijima starting positions, in the first upcoming match and the victory was overwhelming. That’s why, when Oikawa thinks about them now, it sort of makes sense? They were always a good team.
Yes, it took time to adjust to each other. But Oikawa feels better with Ushijima around, he trusts his decisions, and more than anything else he wants to keep it that way. To keep Ushijima around, to make him stay, to be sure, that he would always wake up to a gentle shake and softly whispered “wake up, Oikawa”. He never knew Ushijima had those sides. He never wants to be left alone without them.
Maybe the first time he kissed him, it was all selfish intentions and please don’t leave me please don’t leave me please don’t leave me mantra, that he unconsciously repeated aloud.
“Shh, Tooru, it’s okay,” a year ago eighteen years old Oikawa Tooru would spit Ushijima in the face for these words. Now, he moves for another kiss.
Ushijima becomes it for Oikawa. The push and the pull – what makes him continue and what keeps him sane. His voice, his gaze, his very presence were the reasons why Oikawa did not try to give up anymore.
“Oikawa, please, don’t. I- please, don’t.” Ushijima finds him with a knife in his arms, and he goes down on his knees, and that’s the only time Oikawa sees him cry. “Please, don’t.”
Oikawa himself trembles with the uncontrollable sobs, and he can’t see properly because of the tears. But he is determined. He knows no other way. He has no reason.
“Tooru, please.”
In the brief moment of clarity, Oikawa sees him again. Still on his knees, with tears streaming down his face, his lips moving in an inaudible whispering.
He still doesn’t know what exactly stopped him, but probably these tears.
Oikawa is not sure (he is never sure in anything anymore) if he imagined it, if it was his brain’s last straw of hope, but Ushijima’s tears were not the tears of person who is simply scared of being left alone. Those were not hysterical sobs of a person who just wants to give up (like Oikawa himself), those were tears of someone who is about to lose something dear. Ushijima looked broken-hearted. And Oikawa let go.
The moment knife fell from his hand, Ushijima’s arms were around him. He kept whispering Tooru, while rocking Oikawa in his arms, like he would do with a child. It was one of those first nights, when world was actively crumbling down, and the Darkness was suffocating. They never spoke about it, but that is when Oikawa cried about starlit skies back in Miyagi, and how he just wants to see those fucking stars, Ushijima, why.
And here they are now.
Ushijima picks the last light blue diamond-shaped sequin and places it on the underside of Oikawa’s arm.
“Done.”
“Well, how does it look?”
“Beautiful,” Oikawa wishes he could actually see it, but for now he enjoys the way Ushijima looks at him.
“You brought a mirror, right? Give it to me, I want to make sure you did it properly.” Ushijima chuckles, and hands him a mirror with long handle.
His shoulders, nape of the neck, and arms are actually covered in sequins. Honestly, Oikawa can’t figure out the shapes of constellations but he still smiles like a complete idiot.
“Wow, Ushiwaka-chan, you did give me stars. What an honourable young man.” He is mocking him, and Ushijima knows, so he just leans in and steals a kiss from Oikawa.
“Here,” he takes Oikawa’s hand and places white star-shaped piece of glitter into it. “She fell from the skies,” his hand – left hand – grazes over Oikawa’s shoulder and he shivers. “Make a wish.”
Oikawa giggles. It’s stupid, and it’s sweet, and they might die tomorrow or any moment, but screw it – right now it does not feel like apocalypse at all. Right now, it feels like Ushijima is about to kiss him again, and Oikawa wants him to, and it feels like for a moment he can believe that a single star sequin will make a miracle come true.
So he does – he makes a wish.
Not a big one, not an ambitious one. The one that won’t hurt very much too, because he will never be able to deal with that kind of pain.
He closes his eyes and prays for just a little more time. He does not ask for a long time - just whatever is left, to spend it together.
“Hey,” Ushiijma touches his cheek, and Oikawa only now realises he is crying again. “It’s okay. We will see them again, I promise. The stars, they are certainly still there, you know. They are not gone. They are there. I don’t know how long until we have a chance, but until then…”
He doesn’t finish, he cups Oikawa’s face in his hands instead and places a soft kiss on his forehead.
“Yeah,” Oikawa chuckles.
They are a good team, indeed. Thinking about all the same things.