Work Text:
For the most part, Oikawa Tooru is a nice boyfriend, the sweet kind that always makes you smile with his easy, gentle touches. He has a way of making your heart flutter like a butterfly, drifting in the air with a slight drag to the wings. Sitting on this shooting set, you’re not quite sure that if he’s still that nice boyfriend that you’ve always known with heat burning your cheeks, staring right back at him from your side of the set as you cross your legs back and forth. Under the lens of the camera, he seems a little different, more flamboyant and confident with the knowledge that people are going to watch this.
You’re not really sure why, of all days, he has chosen to do this couples quiz for one of a Japanese pop culture Youtube channel, dragging you out of bed early on the weekends just to do this. They do videos on celebrities and athletes and anything of popular interest. If you were a teenager, you know that you would have been immediately immersed in this whole scenario, jumping up and down in excitement to drag Oikawa everywhere to check out the behind-the-scene aspect of all of this, but you’re a little older now, not as interested in flipping through magazines to catch up on the latest trends.
The makeup artists have glossed over your features, able to blend in night and day with their abilities, and you feel oddly pampered with the chilled pearl tea drink resting in your hand comfortably. It’s strange how you’re ever so aware of the way the makeup clings onto your skin, clouding over your features to give an impressionable image. They had followed what Oikawa told them to do, bringing out the outline of your lips (but you’re sure he’s going to mess with it later when you get out of the studio) and the brightness of your eyes.
You’ve never really gotten to experience the benefits of your boyfriend’s fame, not interested in the attention that he always seems to garner from his appearance (“It’s a gift, I’m telling you”). Ever since high school, he has gotten used to being dragged out of class by news anchors and sports magazine reporters. With all these eyes upon you, you feel like shrinking into yourself, despite your boyfriend’s comforting gaze as he leans over to squeeze your hand comfortingly.
The atmosphere’s light and airy as they ready everything, making sure that the lighting plays upon your features well. You think that your eyes are about to water with how the lights blaze into your eyes, searing them into barbeque, but you’re not going to complain, not when your boyfriend’s eyes are sparkling with such excitement. Having publicly announced your relationship a few weeks ago, the paparazzi has been trying to squeeze questions out of you and your friends, only to get nothing until Oikawa accepted this little video made by one of his sponsors.
“Hi, I’m Oikawa Tooru, playing professional volleyball for Club Atlético San Juan in Argentina,” he says, waving at the camera good-naturedly. For him, he knows how to work his way around the camera, but for you, you’re still a beginner, shying away from pictures of yourself on the internet whenever they pop up in front of you. He faces you, grabbing your hand and holding it up for the camera to capture as he announces your name proudly. “This is my partner.”
The person in the back — behind the cameras — goes over the instructions on how this works, giving you a smile that’s supposed to make you relax from all this pressure, but it’s not exactly working. To you, the instructions fade into white noise, not exactly helping your situation at all. It’s a couples quiz — like all the ones you’ve binge-watched during your boredom during high school to watch your favorite celebrities talk about themselves. You never really thought that you would be in this position, and you start to wonder how they were able to keep up this cool facade in front of the camera. You’re pretty sure that your palms are slick with your sweat, thoughts, and trepidation toward all of this. Your reckoning occupies you, telling you that this will be on the internet by the time you’re done. You’re starting to regret creating all this imaginary pressure for yourself.
“What was the first meal that I cooked for you?” he starts.
It’s easy, and he knows it, tilting his head with a watchful gaze as he watches you simmer down into the flow of the couples quiz. Of course, you’re well aware of the camera boring into you, looking for things to edit out for public scrutiny, but for now, you can pretend it’s not there with the help of your boyfriend.
“Milk bread — is that even considered cooked, though?” you prod with mirth playing on your lips, laughter threatening to spill through your lips like soda being shaken and frothing at the top. “More like underbaked… if I recall correctly.”
“Don’t be rude to my cooking skills,” Oikawa protests with a pout on his lips. “At least, I tried.”
“Tried,” you counter. You can taste it on your lips. “It tasted like yeast and nothing else.”
“What’s my biggest pet peeve?” he continues on, humor flitting through his gaze.
“When things don’t go your way,” you say honestly and simply, the answer coming to you so easily that you can hear snickers in the background from your response.
He flushes without grace, knowing you’re right.
It’s only continuing on when you’re pretty sure that your boyfriend’s messing with you. You know Oikawa Tooru well — the way he talks and works. His eyes are calculating, but they still carry their usual warmth with the smile he places on his lips. If anything, you know that most of his smiles aren’t all that genuine; there’s something lurking from behind the scenes. It makes you wonder what he has up his sleeve because whenever he starts acting like one of those shoujo manga male leads, you know there’s something up.
“Where did we first meet, and what did I think of you?” he hums.
The lilt to his voice is strange, but you ignore it in favor of answering his question.
“We met during our first year at Seijoh, and I got dragged into one of his games by my friends…”
It’s a pretty simple story, not unique or anything like that, but he had broken up with one of your classmates. In return, she made a huge deal out of it because it’s Oikawa Tooru, the kind of person who’s easy on the eyes but not easy when it comes to his personality.
Throughout your years in high school, the number one thing talked about Oikawa was the fact that he was utterly obsessed with volleyball with no eyes for anyone but the ball. There were rumors about him being gay for Iwaizumi (although the rumors did look fairly true when looking at the two men’s relationship, not that you would ever tell them that).
Looking at him, you can tell how your story of events plays behind his eyes as you talk about your first meeting as being nothing special. You were the one who watched your friends comfort his ex at the game, and you were the one who just gave him an eyebrow raise and left it at that. It’s the kind of meeting that anyone could have in reality, so you don’t expect anything.
“Wrong,” he sings, making your eyes snap back to him. “I thought you were pretty cute. I did notice you back then — if that’s your concern.”
You feel heat creep onto your ears at his carefree response, the kind of response that gets people over the moon. Cheesy idiot.
“What’s my favorite nickname to call you?” he tests, letting the question drop.
You stare at him and then glare because what the fuck is wrong with your boyfriend?
The idea of saying it aloud… is atrocious to you. It sounds so personal, revealing it to the public. After all, your relationship is still so fresh to the entire world, and it’s not really any of their business. You’re doing this video because of him, not because you want to, so you know he wants something out of this. You notice the glint in his eyes, waiting for your response because he knows how you feel about saying it.
“Cutie,” you mumble under your breath.
His grin widens. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“You little shit —”
He most definitely heard that. You’re pretty sure that your words will get censored out by a bleep sound by the time this is aired. After this, no television program’s going to ask Oikawa’s partner to come with him because you’re not the family-friendly type of person.
“Definitely not it, cutie,” he laughs, cocking his head to the side playfully at your expression as you feel your expression get flustered from how it rolls off his lips neatly.
“Shut up.”
“Moving on,” he continues before you can get censored out even further from your embarrassment, “what’s my biggest fear?”
Blinking slowly, you consider the question since you haven’t really thought of that before. “Losing the Olympics?”
You do know your boyfriend, you really do from all those years of being together. He’s very ingrained in his volleyball career to the point where Iwaizumi pointed out that if you felt disregarded in any way — to dump him. Whenever he’s hard at work, you’re the one who takes care of him before he overworks himself without knowing. At the same time, he has never really let himself tell you anything negative without you being the first one to prod it out of him.
It’s a thought worth saving for later.
“Nope, I’m confident about that,” Oikawa explains, making you roll your eyes at his confidence, the kind of unshakable confidence that comes from years of practice. Volleyball players, you would complain to Iwaizumi later who would only laugh at you. “Probably losing you.”
The sincerity in his eyes makes you stop because it’s probably one of the cheesiest lines you’ve ever heard in your life, and you hear someone aw gently from behind. You try to keep your expression neutral, scratching the back of your neck to avoid revealing the effect of his comment on you. Weaving your fingers into one another, heat curls within you, dancing mockingly as you attempt to suppress it but fail.
“I didn’t think that would be your biggest fear,” you murmur honestly before he can get back into the swing of things.
He gazes at you with that honeyed gaze, his affection and love all mixed into one expression. “Of course, it would. I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”
The rest of the couples quiz passes by in a blur because you’re still focused on his words. Sure, he always says the typical shit that everyone says to their significant other, but it seems different this time. You try not to stammer as you answer each question, and his response can be completely normal or so, so, so unbearably sweet. He asks you about his perfect day? You respond with volleyball (because he loves it!), but he goes with spending time with you, which is far too romantic for your own mind to comprehend. It’s strange how embarrassed you feel. You bite your lip, trying to keep a clear head throughout the whole thing. Judging by the way his smirk widens toward the end of the video, you’re probably failing at concealing your reactions to all of his little additions to your answers.
While the rest of the crew wraps up the video by cleaning up the set, you glance at your boyfriend, giving him a raised eyebrow. “What was all that about?”
“What was what all about?” he repeats innocently. If you didn’t know him any better, you would have believed his faked innocence without a doubt. “Were you getting camera shy or something, cutie?”
“Shut up,” you mumble under your breath, slurring the complaint so quickly that he barely can catch it.
The two of you head outside just to get a fresh breath of air before they start editing the video for posting it on YouTube. You’ve heard mentions of a photoshoot from the rest of the crew. The whole idea makes you shudder inwardly at the thought of standing in front of a camera with bright lights searing into your eyes outrageously. It’s what your boyfriend has to do as a part of his living, so you’re resigned to do it for his sake.
When he faces you with his lips gently parted in mischief, you know he’s going to continue teasing you about your reactions to him throughout the video.
Before you give him a chance to air out his thoughts to rile you up, you wrap your hands behind his neck to lower him down for a firm kiss on the lips, tasting the remnants of leftover milk tea. It’s soft and sweet, and you’re unafraid to do this in front of everyone in the vicinity now that the recording’s over. You feel him smirk underneath the kiss, following your actions by running his tongue slowly on your bottom lip. He knows how to make you play to his whims, just like the setter he is, and you shudder under his touch, about to melt before you even get your thoughts organized.
“You were trying to get me worked up,” you accuse in between kisses. “You’re way too smooth for your own good.
“Did it work?” he asks, prying one eye with great interest. “I was wondering how long you could keep it all inside. It was funny.”
“Yes,” you huff, “and just imagine how much Hanamaki’s going to laugh at me for reacting like this when we go back to our school reunion.”
“Don’t worry, you were a cute mess,” he laughs, poking your cheek, and cups your face to reach in for another kiss.