seijaku

Oikawa still hadn’t responded to his text. Iwaizumi was a little ticked that the pop-star had even managed to convince him to go through with that phone call. He wasn’t good with improv, for starters, and he still hadn’t fully rationalized this whole fucked up situation yet. Oikawa had sounded so urgent and desperate when he called, though, and Iwaizumi was in the middle of preparing all of their lunches for the day and then Oikawa started freaking out because the guy they were teaming up to torture emotionally was “ coming down the stairs right now, oh god, I see him in the window he’s almost here— ”

Iwaizumi’s face flared up at the mere memory of what he’d said then.

“I’m asking you on a date.”

“Please, he’s— Wait, what?”

“Play the part, moron! Pretend I’m asking you on a date. We’re gonna go see a movie or something.”

There had been a pause on the other line.

“That sounds great, babe.”

Iwaizumi had slipped with the knife in his hand that he was using to cut the salmon for his roommates’ bento boxes. He cursed under his breath as he realized he cut his thumb. He put down the knife and balanced the phone between his cheek and shoulder to go get a bandaid from behind the mirror in the bathroom. It was easier to focus on doing that instead of the heat in his face.

“Son of a bitch. Okay, yeah, whatever. So movie tonight?” He wasn’t sure why he was even trying to uphold his end of the conversation. He hoped Oikawa didn’t have him on speakerphone or something. Otherwise, he might as well just be speaking gibberish and let Oikawa respond however the hell he wanted.

“Tonight? Well, I don’t really have any plans…”

“I hope you know my thumb is bleeding out because of you.” He heard Oikawa laugh on the other line and rolled his eyes. “You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you? Wrap it up already. You don’t have to milk it.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon, then. Don’t keep me waiting long ~”

Oikawa had ended the call after that and Iwaizumi had been left staring at his phone with a blank expression as the idol’s voice played on repeat in his head, his thumb bleeding into the bathroom sink. It was easily one of the most awkward conversations he’d ever had, especially considering how it had started with him answering the call with a bitter “What do you want?”

Their argument after leaving the bar that night hadn’t left his mind ever since. He couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid he felt after that. He was drunk, yes, but that was no excuse to say what he said. Maybe Oikawa was just like that, after all, and maybe it had nothing to do with any alleged non-conformist predispositions. Maybe he really was projecting his own issues.

Bokuto and Akaashi wouldn’t leave him the hell alone about it until he fessed up, either. He didn’t blame them for questioning him when he slammed the door after coming home that night and collapsed on the couch instead of making it all the way to his room. Akaashi didn’t sugarcoat it when he told him he needed to apologize and, no, it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he looked up to Oikawa. Akaashi was too grounded as a person to let that kind of bias affect the way he viewed a situation, and even Bokuto agreed, even though they both did their best to console his drunken bitterness.

Iwaizumi sighed and put his phone away again as he continued his walk home from the massage parlour he worked at. He probably shouldn’t expect a reply. It wasn’t as if he and Oikawa were friends or something, so there was no reason for him to follow up on what happened with that other guy after he’d ended the call. Still, against his rationale, Iwaizumi worried at his lip. What if the other alpha had gotten pissed at hearing all that? He didn’t know the exact details of their relationship to each other besides that they were just “friends”, and he didn’t know how the alpha was prone to reacting to certain provocations. Sure, they were actively trying to piss him off, or at least incite enough resentment to cure his Hanahaki Disease, but if that meant that he flew off the handle and did something brash, then Iwaizumi wasn’t sure that it was worth it.

He was waiting at a crosswalk for the light to change when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He was quick to pull it out and admittedly a little relieved to see that Oikawa had finally texted him back. However, it wasn’t exactly an answer to his question. He furrowed his brows.

...What? It took him a moment to remember that that was the improvised subject of their fake phone call. Emphasis on fake. Why would Oikawa actually want to see a movie with him? Did he think they were suddenly not arguing anymore? Were they still arguing? Iwaizumi scratched the back of his head as he stared at the message and tried to figure out what the hell it could mean.

Then, eventually, he just gave up and shrugged.

Iwaizumi heaved a sigh and looked up, only to find the crosswalk sign had already changed and now the seconds ticked down to the stop signal again. Iwaizumi thought about making a run for it, but the oncoming traffic made him reconsider. Groaning to himself, he resigned himself to waiting another three minutes. Stupid, shitty Oikawa. He couldn’t be sure why he even agreed to this. They weren’t friends. They weren’t really dating. Hell, they were barely even “fake” dating. He couldn’t put a label on it even if he tried.

Oh, well. A night at the theatre didn’t sound too bad. At least they wouldn’t have to talk. At least, he hoped Oikawa wasn’t the type to talk during movies. Some nagging feeling in the back of his mind assured him that he was going to be disappointed.

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Oikawa stood by the entrance to the movie theatre a couple hours later, wearing a beanie and sunglasses despite that the sun had already set behind the horizon. Walking freely around his neighbourhood was all well and good, but anywhere else he practically had to wear some sort of flimsy disguise to avoid being recognized. The woes of fame, he lamented to himself.

He was a little nervous, he would admit. After his last-minute phone call with Iwaizumi in an attempt to put their plan into motion, he had sat in his car for what felt like hours just...crying. Well, he had pulled himself together only long enough to drive away from the front of Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s house first to find somewhere more private to break down, but that was besides the point. He hadn’t cried like that in...years, he was sure.

He knew what they were doing was cruel. He knew that. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less to know that Matsukawa couldn’t even bring himself to confront him about it before he had turned right back around and gone back inside the house. The sound of the door slamming still echoed in Oikawa’s head. It felt like an ending. There was no going back after that.

But he also knew it still wasn’t enough, not yet. Even if it had hurt, Matsukawa was the type of person to keep forgiving, to keep giving more chances, until it became unquestionably clear that he couldn’t take anymore. It was a byproduct of his childhood. He had endured so much abuse from his peers in junior high and some of that had almost continued into high school, until Oikawa and Hanamaki met him.

The two of them had made for one terrifying duo when it came to anyone who even thought about picking on Matsukawa. He could even recall one instance in which he had actually punched someone. The principal hadn’t been very impressed by that, but the entire volleyball club had stood by his actions in defense of Matsukawa. Of course, nobody dared to mess with anyone on the team after Kyoutani joined. He was truly their ace in more ways than one, even if Oikawa could never quite manage to connect with him the same way he did the others. He was one of a kind, that much was certain.

But he digressed. The point was that Matsukawa was used to people treating him poorly and he was used to blaming himself for it instead of the one actually at fault. Oikawa had witnessed several occasions where he apologized to someone for the way they acted toward him, having convinced himself that he must have done something wrong to deserve that kind of treatment. It made Oikawa furious. He’d yelled at Matsukawa about it once and he only got more apologies in return which was the exact opposite of the point he’d been trying to make.

Luckily, though, Hanamaki had always seemed to understand Matsukawa better than most people. They were also closer than anyone else was to Matsukawa. He might have been Oikawa’s best friend, but those two had a certain kind of chemistry that was hard to come by. It had always been a running joke in their circle of friends that they already shared a spiritual bond despite not being mates. No one ever took it seriously, anyway.

Hanamaki had managed to build Matsukawa’s confidence little by little. Even after all this time, though, it was still a work in progress. Oikawa could only imagine how far back he had set that progress just from his rejection of Matsukawa’s advances. This morning even more so. He was going to have to try to make Matsukawa hate him—it wouldn’t do just to flaunt a few flirtatious phone calls in his face. That wasn’t going to be enough to keep him from internalizing his hurt into self-blame. It was going to take much more than that and that scared Oikawa. It scared him because he didn’t know if he would be able to see it through until the end.

Oikawa took a deep breath and let it out. He had been staring up at one of the large movie posters outside of the theatre while he was lost in thought. It didn’t look very interesting, but then, none of the movies advertised out here did. He thought about just going home. Why did he even make this suggestion in the first place? Iwaizumi had made it clear that—

...Well, no, actually, he hadn’t made anything clear at all. If anything, he only made things more confusing. He was upset about something, that much Oikawa understood, but upset about what he wasn’t sure. It had something to do with what happened at the bar, but why? They had had a good time, then briefly sized each other up just like any two alphas were prone to do at the faintest whiff of a challenge, especially after putting away a few drinks. They hadn’t broken out into a fight, though, and Oikawa even stepped down. Make no mistake, it wasn’t the same as running away from a fight, it was simply not accepting the challenge. He supposed that was what had set Iwaizumi off. Maybe? Who knew at this point.

But even so, he still helped Oikawa when he called. At first, he hadn’t planned on doing anything other than saying hi to Matsukawa and apologizing for his actions. It seemed like the right thing to do, but it was precisely because of that that Oikawa started thinking that maybe he shouldn’t. If he had, it would have only given Matsukawa more reason to forgive him. It would have...complicated things. Staying away entirely would have been better, but then when would Oikawa have gotten the chance to put his plan into action? Having a fake boyfriend didn’t really do any good if the person they were faking it for never knew about him. At that point it would just be as if they were actually—

But they weren’t, not at all, and Oikawa wasn’t going to think about that, because he might be the kind of horrible person trying to break Matsukawa’s heart, but he wasn’t the kind of horrible person who would actually turn around and start dating someone else, another alpha no less. He wasn’t sure if that even counted for anything, but he would cling to that just to convince himself that he was doing this for Matsukawa’s sake.

Well, he wasn’t doing this, coming to a movie theatre with his fake-not-real-at-all boyfriend, for Matsukawa. This was just...to take his mind off things. When was the last time he’d gone out to see a movie? His schedule was always so busy. The only reason he’d had today off from everything was because he had cleared his schedule in advance once Hanamaki had a court date. Back then, he had planned to go out and celebrate with everyone after they won the trial because he was sure even then that they would. But then...well, you know the rest.

Shaking his head, Oikawa turned away from the movie poster, only to jump nearly out of his skin when he saw someone standing a few feet away, staring at him. It wasn’t just any someone, though. Iwaizumi wore a guarded expression, scrutinizing Oikawa’s outfit with a scan of his eyes before arching a brow at him.

“Oikawa? Is that y—”

“Sh-sh- shuuush! Keep it down!” Oikawa hissed, waving a hand and holding a finger to his lips. Iwaizumi raised both eyebrows this time and glanced around at the decidedly empty area outside the front of the theatre.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb the moths,” he said dryly before turning an exasperated look back on Oikawa. “What are you doing? You look like an idiot with those glasses.” Oikawa pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

“What do you think would happen if I just walked around with my whole face on display?” he asked. It was clearly rhetorical, but Iwaizumi felt the need to answer anyway, it would seem.

“I dunno. You’d probably make some kid start crying.”

“Rude!” Oikawa huffed and reluctantly took off his sunglasses, shoving them into his coat pocket. “Whatever. Did you find something to watch?”

“Well, gee, don’t sound too excited,” Iwaizumi said, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, come on already. I’ll get the tickets.”

“I can pay for mine.”

“I know you can, but you’re not going to, ‘cause you bought our drinks last time and you’re not my sugar daddy. Suck it up, Shittykawa.”

“I— ...What?” Oikawa blinked owlishly. “What did you just call me?” He asked more out of confusion than offense. For now, anyway.

“Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi repeated without hesitation as he walked up to the ticket booth to purchase their tickets.

“That’s— Why would— That’s so vulgar! Don’t call me that!” Oikawa may as well have been stomping his feet. Why was that the nickname Iwaizumi decided for him? His was actually cute! This was so unfair.

“Oh, so you can call me whatever you want, but I can’t do the same? Yeah, right. Get over yourself.”

Oikawa didn’t let up, complaining about the nickname all the way through the lobby and down the hall. He only dropped it when they entered the theatre room, at which point Iwaizumi shushed him in much the same manner as Oikawa had outside. He was pouting again as they took their seats.

“What movie is this, anyway?” he whispered. The screen was still only playing a few random ads to fill time until the movie was scheduled to start.

“Godzilla,” Iwaizumi said without a hint of shame. Oikawa stared at him slack-jawed. When he didn’t respond right away, Iwaizumi turned to look at him, doing a double-take at his expression, then held out his hands in question. “What?”

“I told you not to pick something lame,” Oikawa said finally, tilting his head back on the chair. “Besides, didn’t this movie come out, like, three years ago?”

“First of all, Godzilla is not lame,” Iwaizumi said very matter-of-factly. “Second of all, so what? It’s still a good movie.”

“You’ve already seen it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what’s the point!” Oikawa threw his hands up and let them fall back to his lap. “You’re supposed to go to the movies to see something new.”

“It’s new to you, ” Iwaizumi pointed out. “And you’re the one who asked me to see a movie, so don’t complain.

“Technically, you asked me first.”

“That wasn’t real! It doesn’t count.”

“Yes it does!”

“No it doesn’t!

A complaint from a few rows back had them both glancing behind their seats with mumbled apologies before they turned around again and crossed their arms simultaneously. Noticing this, Oikawa uncrossed his arms again and rested them back in his lap. Iwaizumi scoffed and then stood up to shuffle past him to walk back to the aisle.

“Where are you going?” Oikawa asked. He would be lying if he said the thought of getting ditched just like that didn’t cause his nerves to spike a little.

“ Relax, ” Iwaizumi shot back at him. “I’m just going to get a drink.” Then, as an afterthought, he asked, “Do you want anything?” Oikawa looked at him for a moment before averting his eyes.

“...A smoothie?” Iwaizumi sighed.

“What flavour?”

“Banana coconut.” A pause. “...Please.”

“...Right.”

Iwaizumi walked down the aisle and disappeared around the corner to go get their drinks. Oikawa slouched in his seat a little, blowing out air through his nose. What was that guy’s problem, anyway? He always had to make such a big deal out of everything. Oikawa would not acknowledge the fact that he also did that and only aided their bouts of bickering. It seemed so unreal how they had only known each other for a few days and yet managed to get under each other’s skin so easily. Normally that level of aggravation could only be achieved after years of familiarity when pushing the right buttons came like second nature.

Maybe they knew each other in a past life or something. If Oikawa had to guess, he would say they were rivals. Nothing drew out this bull-headed, argumentative streak of his quite like someone he wanted to best. That was accurate in this situation, he thought. He may not have known Iwaizumi for long, but even he could see the kind, altruistic heart he carried under all that crude behaviour and half-hearted insults. He didn’t have to help Oikawa out of the storm that day. He didn’t have to call him a cab to take him home that night (even if he were also the reason Oikawa didn’t get to take that cab). He also didn’t have to answer the phone when Oikawa called him in the middle of a panic attack earlier today. Most of all, he didn’t have to accept the invitation to see a movie tonight.

Oikawa didn’t give Iwaizumi enough credit for how perceptive he was. The only reason he could think of as to why he agreed to see a movie with him was that he already suspected that Oikawa was feeling under the weather after what he had to do to his friend. It was to be expected, after all. For all the arguing they’d done in the past three days of knowing each other, Iwaizumi was still willing to help him for no other reason than that he was simply a good person. Oikawa had to wonder if he would have done the same had he been in Iwaizumi’s shoes. Was he that kind? That selfless?

He already knew the answer to that, so there was no point in thinking about it.

“Excuse me,” came a voice from the side. Oikawa’s head jerked up as he was drawn out of his thoughts, finding a man hovering just near the beginning of the row of seats. Oikawa didn’t recognize him, but in the dim light of the theatre, he could at least tell that the man was objectively attractive. He was a little too far away to get a good whiff of his scent, though. “Are these seats taken?” the man asked, gesturing to the ones to Oikawa’s left, the opposite side of where Iwaizumi had been sitting. Oikawa glanced up and down the empty row—most of the theatre was empty, actually—then turned back to the man with a wary expression.

“...I guess not,” he said, apprehensive. Why would someone want to sit in the same row as another stranger when the majority of the seats were available? He tucked his chin into the scarf around his neck, praying that he hadn’t been recognized as an idol. That would be awkward. Maybe this guy was one of those people with a very particular preference for where they sat in a theatre to get the best sound quality from the surrounding speakers. That made sense, he thought.

The man offered a pleasant smile and proceeded forward in the aisle to take the seat directly next to Oikawa. The idol sniffed the air as soon as the man settled in and held back a grimace. Alpha. What was up with that? He could understand an omega, maybe even a beta spotting a celebrity at the movies and wanting to sit as close as possible (it was bold, but not completely unexpected), but an alpha? Even his fans he’d met who were alphas tended to keep their distance; it was a territorial thing. He shifted in his seat, discreetly leaning on the armrest to his right to put some distance between them.

“Are you here with anyone?” the other asked, leaning in the same direction with utmost casualness. Oikawa glanced over at him out of the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh, I see. Where’s your date then?” Oikawa had to summon a sizable amount of willpower to keep from rolling his eyes and sneering.

“I’m not here with a date, ” he said. “I’m just here with a...friend.” He hesitated with the word. It felt wrong. They weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t exactly anything else, either.

“Oh, my apologies. I didn’t mean to assume,” the man said. “I just figured someone as beautiful as yourself would have someone hanging off your arm at all times. Seems like a shame your friend would let you out of their sight.”

“ Excuse me? ” This time his lip did curl with distaste as he narrowed his eyes at the alpha. “I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

“There a problem here?”

They both turned to look up at Iwaizumi who had finally returned with a drink in both hands. His gaze shifted to Oikawa, raising a brow, and the idol could only send him a pleading look for help. There was an understanding in Iwaizumi’s gaze as he turned it back to the other alpha.

“You must be the ‘friend’. I was just having a nice conversation with your—”

“He’s not my anything. Now beat it,” Iwaizumi interrupted.

“There’s no need to get testy. Why don’t we all just relax and enjoy the—”

“You deaf? I said beat it. ” This time the command was punctuated by a growl in the back of Iwaizumi’s throat. There was a responding growl from the other alpha, but that was drowned out by yet another, louder rumble from Oikawa on the other side of him.

He looked between the two of them for a moment, clearly weighing his options, before he seemed to realize that two against one were odds he wasn’t equipped to deal with. With a tense expression, he finally stood from the seat and made his way back out to the aisle. Iwaizumi didn’t move to give him room to pass by, forcing him to squeeze his way past in a very awkward manner. Iwaizumi watched him until he took a seat a few rows back, drawing the glances from the handful of other movie-goers in the theatre. Only once he was seated did Iwaizumi finally return to his own seat, handing over Oikawa’s smoothie.

“Who was that guy?” Iwaizumi asked, subtly glancing over his shoulder. Oikawa didn’t miss the sharp look in his eye, suggesting that he caught the other alpha still looking at them.

“No idea,” Oikawa muttered, taking the smoothie and sucking down a mouthful. “What a creep, though. Who just hits on some random person in the middle of a movie theatre?”

“He was hitting on you?” Iwaizumi asked, glare still pinned over his shoulder.

“ Yeah. Weird, right?” Oikawa said, shaking his head. It wasn’t hard to tell what, precisely, he was calling weird about that situation. Iwaizumi finally turned away from threatening the other alpha with his eyes, glancing briefly at Oikawa before facing ahead to watch the screen. The movie was about to begin.

“Yeah. Weird,” he muttered. Oikawa didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t even continue his complaining from before. It was as if the smoothie had completely righted his mood like a magic switch. He did love his smoothies.

The movie wasn’t that bad, as it turned out. Oikawa still didn’t get the hype around giant monsters terrorizing cities, but he could appreciate some aspects of it, like the fact that Godzilla could apparently shoot laser beams out of its mouth. He had no idea that was a thing. He was ecstatic to find out that Monster Zero was actually an extraterrestrial creature, which made the whole thing ten times better. Of course, the giant bug in the beginning was a little off-putting.

(No, Oikawa had not let out an ugly, disgusted sort of squealing noise when he saw Mothra emerge from its egg...cocoon...sac...thing, no matter what Iwaizumi or anyone else in the theatre said.)

Even that didn’t come close to the way Iwaizumi practically jumped out of his seat like some nutty jock watching a football game when Godzilla burst out of the ocean to take down Monster Zero, though. Oikawa had to hold a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, but that was a futile effort when Iwaizumi shoved at his head and hunched back into his seat with his signature scowl as if he hadn’t been seconds away from standing up and yelling.

By the end of the movie, they had both forgotten about the unsettling encounter with the other alpha. Oikawa, for his part, was far more concerned with the cliffhanger presented by the post-credits scene that Iwaizumi had convinced him to wait and watch. He was still going on about it as they walked out of the theatre.

“But what was that guy going to do with the dragon’s head?”

“Ghidorah’s not a dragon,” Iwaizumi corrected. “Not technically. I mean, his origin varies, but in the MonsterVerse, he’s definitely from outer space. I don’t know what they do with it yet, but I bet it’s covered in the sequel.”

“There’s a sequel?” Oikawa asked, surprising himself with how excited he sounded. Iwaizumi gave him an amused look and he cleared his throat. “I’m just saying it would be nice to know the continuation. Cliffhangers are cheap tricks like that.”

“It’s not a cheap trick,” Iwaizumi said with a chuckle. “It’s supposed to leave you wanting more. And you’re totally hooked.”

“Am not.” Oikawa crossed his arms as they made it to the lobby. “I’ll give you that it wasn’t completely lame. The alien twist was a nice surprise.”

“So you’re into aliens?” Iwaizumi asked, smirking. Oikawa pursed his lips.

“Maybe I am. They’re more interesting than ancient monsters that humanity already knew about once. You can do so much more with aliens in movies. How would Ghidorah have survived that big missile otherwise?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I gotta go take a piss. Be back in a bit,” Iwaizumi said with a wave of his hand as he departed toward the restrooms.

“Okay.” Oikawa took a seat on one of the lounge chairs in the lobby, pulling out his phone. He might as well catch up on his media while he waited.

As he was scrolling through Instagram, he noticed that he hadn’t updated in a few days. Glancing up, Oikawa surveyed the walls of the lobby for the Godzilla poster, only to find it right behind him. He took a well-angled photo of himself in front of the poster while holding up his trademark peace sign to update his followers on his night out. Of course, he would leave out the fact that he came here with someone else. He couldn’t deny that he considered mentioning Iwaizumi, but that seemed like a bad idea, even if the small touch would work wonders in establishing credibility for his ruse. He knew Matsukawa followed his Instagram, after all. At least, he used to. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Either way, posting about one’s love life (real or fake) as a celebrity was always a recipe for disaster. People would start asking so many questions, double down on their invasive stalking of his profiles, even try to track down the other person. He’d already experienced a lesser version of all that during high school when his main claim to fame was volleyball. His girlfriend at the time was sweet, perhaps too sweet for her own good. Alas, it never turned into anything serious, or rather, it never had the chance. She was pushed away by his fans, the amount of time he devoted to volleyball, and he wasn’t exactly the best “boyfriend material” at the time, either. He felt bad for putting her through all that, but thankfully they were able to remain friends even after they broke up. It was a relief that she never developed Hanahaki Disease. At least the feelings (or lack thereof, in this case) were mutual.

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In the bathroom, Iwaizumi had finished doing his business and was in the process of washing his hands when someone else walked in. Because this was an alphas' bathroom and Iwaizumi wasn’t a fucking weirdo, he kept his eyes on the sink and said nothing. Unfortunately, all pretenses of common decency were thrown out the window when he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt collar and yank him backward.

He landed hard against the tiled floor, a throbbing fuzziness blooming out across the back of his skull when his head smacked against the ground. It didn’t last long, thankfully, but it incapacitated him long enough for the other guy to ram the heel of his shoe into the side of his face. Iwaizumi’s head snapped to the side with a groan and he could taste blood on his lip. His instincts kicked in just in time to bring his arm up to block another kick, though he was still trying to get a grip on the situation. Who the hell jumped a guy in a movie theatre bathroom? That was just low.

“Who do you think you are, waltzing around with Oikawa Tooru like you have the right?” the guy spat down at him. While his senses were still a little fuzzy, Iwaizumi recognized the voice immediately. This was the same guy who’d tried to make a move on Oikawa before the movie started. He was an alpha, right? What made him think he could be so brazen about that sort of thing in public? The man stomped down on his arm again. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Alright. He’d had enough. Iwaizumi twisted around to grab the man’s ankle and, with a rough tug, pulled him off balance enough to send him tumbling onto his ass. Iwaizumi took the opportunity to get to his feet, wiping at his bloody lip with the back of his hand. He stared down at the other alpha with a sneer.

“Who even are you?” he questioned. The man didn’t answer, simply growling and rolling back onto his feet to throw a punch in Iwaizumi’s direction. This guy clearly didn’t have any real fighting experience. Iwaizumi was easily able to deflect the blow with his hand and drive his fist into the alpha’s gut with the other. That earned a deep groan from the other as he doubled over. Iwaizumi shoved him up against one of the urinals, uncaring for the hiss of pain he received as the odd, angular edges of the contraption dug into the man’s back. “If you got a problem with me, say it before I knock your fangs out.”

“You don’t deserve him!” the alpha cried. Iwaizumi’s face twisted up in confusion and no small amount of disgust. Do his fans really act like this? He didn’t get to voice the question before a knee connected with his stomach, sending him stumbling backward. The man took the opening to charge at him, going in for some sort of headlock. He got an arm around Iwaizumi’s throat and managed to get behind him, bracing his wrist in place with his other hand. Iwaizumi growled as he struggled to get free of the other’s hold. He was decently strong, he’d give him that.

Back out in the lobby, Oikawa was still scrolling through his phone, giggling to himself over the cutest picture of an influencer’s dog. Ah, how he loved dogs. He missed his Mao-Mao already despite having been home to see her just before coming out to meet Iwaizumi at the theatre. Even so, he couldn’t wait to get back home and smother her in kisses. She was such a good dog.

Iwaizumi eventually found the momentum to lean forward and throw this guy off him, slamming him into the floor and finally breaking free of the hold around his neck. It took him a moment to find his balance again, a moment that gave the other alpha the opportunity to spring back up and go for his head again, this time to hold it down while he swung up his knee to ram into Iwaizumi’s nose.

He grunted at the impact, smelling and tasting copper now, and quickly wrapped his arms around the guy’s middle to rush forward and shove him back into one of the stalls. He planted his feet just before following suit, sending the man clattering onto the toilet. Iwaizumi stepped forward to grab a fistful of his shirt then and drive home a mean knuckle sandwich into his nose to return the favour from earlier.

Oikawa got caught up on his unread Snapchat stories and tags on Twitter before he took note of the time. Iwaizumi had been in the bathroom for quite a while just to take a leak. Would it be weird to check up on him? Maybe he should give him a few more minutes. He could have ended up having to take an unexpected “number two”, as well. Or maybe he was taking a medication he was shy about. Or maybe he was doing drugs. Oikawa wrinkled his nose at that. He hoped it wasn’t drugs.

Iwaizumi managed to get in a few more punches before the alpha got his hands on his shirt, too, and yanked him forward to slam their foreheads together. Okay, ow. His dazedness allowed the man to push him off and he staggered to catch his footing all the way to the opposite wall where he steadied himself between the sinks. He came back to his senses just in time to duck and dodge another punch. He heard the man’s knuckles collide with the wall and couldn’t help but wince. That must have hurt.

He sent an uppercut into the man’s chin with just enough force to get him out of his face, but he was beginning to lose stamina and the disorientation from taking so many hits was starting to wear him down. He needed to finish this quickly. He lifted his leg to go for a kick to the chest, but his sluggishness caused the man to be able to grab his calf in time and throw him back into the wall between the sinks again, where he unceremoniously sank down to the floor. The man was on him in seconds, grabbing his hair and slamming his head back against the wall— hard.

The door to the bathroom opened again and the man looked up. Iwaizumi couldn’t really turn his head with the grip on his hair, but judging by the look of horror on the man’s face akin to a child being caught doing something they shouldn’t, he could only guess who it was. He felt his busted lips stretch into a stinging smile without any conscious decision to do so. Get fucked, dirtbag.

He was prepared to use the distraction to get in a final blow, but he wasn’t given the chance. Instead the man was lifted off of him by his hair, eliciting a sharp yowl as Oikawa’s quick steps had him pinned against the wall in mere moments, a knee thrust into his groin and a sharp elbow to the cheek that knocked him sideways and caused his head to snap against the wall. The man crumpled to the floor in a heap of himself, completely out cold. Iwaizumi could only stare at him from where he still sat on the floor, bleeding from his nose and mouth and his right eye starting to swell up a bit.

Then Oikawa was crouched in front of him, fussing over his wounds and saying...something, Iwaizumi was sure, since he could hear his voice, but couldn’t quite make out the words. What he could make out was the way the pupils in Oikawa’s eyes gradually went from thin, narrowed slits back to normal circles. He felt something stir in his stomach as the image burned itself into his mind, along with the memory of Oikawa taking out another alpha without breaking a sweat. Of course, much of that definitely had to do with the fact that Iwaizumi wore him down first. That was what he would choose to believe, anyway.

“Hey, no, stay with me,” Oikawa snapped, patting at his cheeks. Well, it wasn’t quite patting, but it wasn’t quite slapping, either—just enough to get his attention back on him. Iwaizumi blinked, eyes unfocused. “Come on, up you go. Can you stand?”

Iwaizumi didn’t answer, but he did manage to hold (most of) his own weight when Oikawa helped him to his feet, slinging one of his arms over his shoulders. They hobbled out of the bathroom then, startling a few people walking out of theatre rooms in the hallways as they made their way back to the lobby. He vaguely heard Oikawa explaining the situation to one of the employees who seemed way too panicked about the whole thing compared to the two of them. He wasn’t entirely sure what was discussed, but either way, they eventually left the theatre and Oikawa guided him to what Iwaizumi assumed was his car. He posed no questions or protests when he was helped into the passenger side and Oikawa got in the driver’s side.

The drive was a bit of a blur. He must have passed out at some point, though he could distinctly recall hearing Oikawa’s voice constantly in the back of his head, keeping him just lucid enough. The chilly wind from the cracked window on his side helped, too. In what seemed like only seconds, he was being helped out of the car again, taken into a building, up an elevator, and eventually into an apartment.

The lights flickering on in the room made him blink several times in order to adjust, as well as brought back some sense of awareness. He really took one hell of a beating, huh? That alpha asshole could certainly pack a punch, even if he didn’t know how to use it most effectively. Iwaizumi found himself sitting on a couch and moments later Oikawa returned with a first aid kit. All he could do was sit there and stare at Oikawa as the other perched on the coffee table to disinfect the cuts on his lips and apparently one above his brow.

He must have looked like he was still zoning out since Oikawa didn’t comment on it, but he was paying close attention to the idol’s face. Specifically the subtle crease between his brows, the way he quietly muttered to himself about this and that as he worked, the intense, focused look in his eyes. He took in every detail he could find, up to and including the freckles he only just noticed sprinkled lightly across Oikawa’s nose and cheeks. It must have been the lighting because he was sure those weren’t there before. He would have known if they were. They were far too cute to miss.

He felt Oikawa’s thumb on his lips, lightly dabbing some sort of salve over the cuts. The gentle pressure gave him the strangest urge to close his lips around it. If he hadn’t taken several blows to the head and if he weren’t quite so enraptured by the man in front of him, he probably would have realized that was a bad and supremely stupid idea. As it were, though, he was under the influence of both of those things, so before he could even really debate it with himself, he pursed his lips, pressing a kiss of sorts to the pad of Oikawa’s thumb.

The movement stopped and since Iwaizumi was already staring directly at Oikawa’s eyes, he didn’t miss the way they finally returned his gaze. That simple gesture was all it took to jolt him free of the dazed trance he had been in since they left the theatre. His whole body stiffened, a surge of anxiety locking up his limbs, but he still managed to pull his head away and find a suddenly very interesting pattern on the floor grain. It sucked that his face was still a little numb and he couldn’t feel just how hot his face was, but he could imagine it was extremely incriminating.

“S-sorry, I just—” He just what? He didn’t have a way to explain himself out of this one. “...Sorry.”

“...It’s okay,” Oikawa said softly. The lack of any hint of disgust in his voice made Iwaizumi glance back at him warily. The idol offered a small smile. “At least I know you’re actually lucid. Any nausea? Ringing? Do you know how you got here?”

“Uh… No, no, and yeah,” he answered in order. “You drove me...here. Is this where you live?” he asked, if only to be sure. Oikawa nodded.

“Sure is. I couldn’t ask you for your address, and I wasn’t sure if you would have the right stuff, anyway,” Oikawa said. He reached onto the table beside him and picked up an ice pack, showing it to Iwaizumi as if in warning before carefully pressing it to his temple where his eye had swollen somewhat. “Here, hold that there for at least ten minutes, okay?” Iwaizumi lifted his hand to do that, fingers covering Oikawa’s for a moment before the latter withdrew his hand and stood up. “I’ll go get you some water. Don’t fall asleep.”

Iwaizumi just nodded as he watched Oikawa walk into the adjacent kitchen to pour a glass of iced water. He couldn’t help but feel like all of this was a little unnecessary. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t gotten into fights before. He had taken martial arts classes while he was in school to prepare for just this sort of situation. It was pretty commonplace for alphas to do so, considering how often fights broke out between them. He wondered if Oikawa had done the same. He seemed to have known what he was doing back at the theatre. Then again, maybe it was just instinct.

He felt another twinge of heat low in his stomach at the memory and swiftly broke that train of thought. The last thing he needed was to get a boner after all this, especially while he was sitting in Oikawa’s living room. He accepted the glass of water that was handed to him when the alpha returned, muttering his thanks as he gulped down at least half of it in one go. Fighting was so exhausting.

Oikawa took a seat on the couch cushion next to him, placing his supplies back into his first aid kit on the table. He seemed well-prepared for this sort of thing. Iwaizumi wondered if he had gotten into many fights himself, or if he was often around people who did.

“...I’m sorry that happened,” Oikawa said after a moment, clicking the kit shut and leaning back on the couch as he rested his hands on his lap. He wasn’t looking at Iwaizumi. “I didn’t think that guy would come back and…” He balled up his fists on his thighs, jaw clenched. “I tried to tell you it was risky for me to be seen out in public.” He gave a dry sort of laugh that lacked any humour. Iwaizumi placed the glass of water down on the table.

“Your fans are nuts,” he said, unabashedly blunt. Leaning back, he stretched his arm out over the back of the couch with a sigh, coincidentally falling behind Oikawa, while he still held the ice pack to his eye. “You gotta deal with that all the time, huh?”

“...Yeah,” Oikawa said. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you that was a possibility before—”

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi cut him off, tossing him a glance out of the corner of his eyes. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to fight off a jealous alpha. I’m just surprised he didn’t even try to hide it.” Oikawa gave him a sheepish smile, reaching up to scratch at his cheek.

“Same here. Usually they’re a little more...discreet about their unhealthy obsession,” he said. He closed his eyes and tilted back his head, unintentionally resting it in the crook of Iwaizumi’s arm. If he had any qualms about that, he didn’t voice them, so neither did Iwaizumi. “Sometimes I wish I could just turn it off. You know?”

“...No, not really,” Iwaizumi said. Oikawa cracked open one of his eyes and chuckled.

“Sorry, you’re right. Who could ever understand the troubles of being famous? It’s clearly very complicated and nuanced.”

“Clearly,” Iwaizumi agreed with a rumbling laugh of his own.

While Oikawa had his eyes closed again, he took a moment to look around the living room. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from Oikawa’s residence—maybe some grandiose house with too many rooms, modern minimalist decor, and a jacuzzi—but his apartment was pretty modest, all things considered. Still obviously a product of the wealth he had acquired, but nothing extravagant. The walls were painted a simple white, but he had photos and shelves that occupied much of the space.

The photos, he noted, seemed to be of friends and family. He even saw some from his former volleyball club at Aoba Jōsai. He couldn’t help a small smile when he saw just how bright and happy Oikawa looked in those pictures. The shelves, though there weren’t that many, were packed with books. He couldn’t make out any titles from where he was sitting, but he saw a few space-themed covers and almost snorted (almost). He really did like his aliens, huh?

There were a few trinkets here and there, too, little things that added to the personality in the room. One of the shelves was devoted to trophies—volleyball and music alike, it seemed. There were a couple candles situated around the entertainment center, a nice stereo tucked underneath, and a small assortment of CDs. That was surprising. He didn’t know anybody who still listened to CDs these days. He also noticed a few placards here and there, ones that had cheesy, cliche lines engraved on them like “The best is yet to come” and “Home sweet home”. Somehow, that seemed so very like Oikawa, even though he had no place making those sorts of judgements yet.

A soft touch to his cheek made him flinch a little, mostly because it came with an unexpected, but light throb of pain. He glanced over at Oikawa who was looking at him now, though he retracted his hand immediately, letting it hover in the air.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I just noticed you’re getting a bruise here.” He let his fingers brush ever so lightly along Iwaizumi’s jaw. The way he was looking at it was as if he were watching the bruise form right before his eyes.

Iwaizumi stared at him for a moment longer, then slowly moved his arm from the back of the couch to gently grab Oikawa’s hand and move it away from his jaw. Oikawa blinked and looked askance, clearly bashful about touching him so freely like that. Instead of reprimanding him for it, though, or anything of that like, Iwaizumi brought his fingers to his lips, brushing a featherlight kiss across his knuckles. Oikawa’s eyes snapped back to him, first at his lips, then up at his eyes.

Iwaizumi watched intently for any sign of repulsion or discomfort, waiting for the backlash. When he found none, only the slightly bewildered and questioning look in Oikawa’s eyes, he moved his lips lower to kiss the back of his hand. He observed Oikawa observing him, both of their breaths bated. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to do this. This was risky. This was exactly what he’d wanted to prevent from happening. Right now, though, he felt like his body was moving on its own, unheeding of the voice in the back of his head that screamed at him that this was a bad idea.

He lowered the ice pack from his face, leaving it on the cushion as he moved that hand instead to curl around the back of Oikawa’s neck. He felt the alpha shiver at the cold touch of his fingers, a small gasp, but he didn’t pull away or push him away. Lowering their hands, he leaned forward slowly, ever so slowly, and closed the distance between them, all the while waiting for the moment that Oikawa would come to his senses and kick him out of the apartment.

But that moment never came. Oikawa sat there, still as a statue, and didn’t move an inch when Iwaizumi’s lips met his. It was careful at first, hesitant, but when he still felt no hint of resistance, he pressed forward, tilting his head to press their lips together more firmly, albeit still with a tentative gentleness. His ears caught the extremely faint whine in the back of Oikawa’s throat. It only emboldened him further, moving his lips more intently against the other’s.

His heart raced when he finally felt Oikawa respond against him, a hesitant quiver of his lips as he tried to mimic his movements. There was a soft, wet sound between them when they parted briefly, Oikawa’s breath shuddering against him, and then they were kissing again, confidence rising in both of their movements. He felt Oikawa’s hand tighten around his, the other coming to rest on his forearm, and he leaned into him. Iwaizumi’s tongue peeked out more out of habit than intention, but it drew forth another gasp from the idol, so he seized the opportunity to drag it between his lips, savouring the taste of cherry chapstick.

There was another barely-there noise from Oikawa before they parted completely to catch their breath. When their eyes opened, Iwaizumi found Oikawa’s to be nearly black with how wide his pupils were blown. He was red up to his ears, lips parted as he breathed as if he could smell Iwaizumi on his tongue. And he likely could.

He leaned back in to continue where they left off, feeling Oikawa gravitate forward to meet him, but in that moment they were forced apart by a disgruntled whine from the foot of the couch, quickly followed by a large, furry figure jumping up to worm its way in between them. Iwaizumi shot back backward, lifting his hands away as a fluffy sheltie dog made herself comfortable on Oikawa’s lap and proceeded to sniff the crap out of Iwaizumi with her long, wet nose. He sat ramrod still, more so in disbelief of what had just happened than the fact that Oikawa apparently owned a dog. How...convenient.

He couldn’t even chance a glance over at Oikawa, heart pounding too furiously in his chest and head reeling. Did he really just do that? Did he really just make out with another alpha? And that alpha let him?

Oikawa was just as silent beside him, though his dog had no problem making her presence known as she kept nudging at Iwaizumi’s hand to get him to pet her. Eventually he had to give in. He could only ignore an animal’s pleas for attention for so long. She was very soft, he noted as he scratched behind her ears. He focused on this instead of the tangible awkwardness that had settled in the air between them.

“I should, uh…” Oikawa started, boldly taking the initiative to break the heavy silence. Iwaizumi kept his eyes on the dog as Oikawa softly cleared his throat. “I should go—go, um. I should go refill her water bowl.”

“...Okay.” Gods, Iwaizumi sounded like such an idiot, but what else was he supposed to say? Oikawa stayed there for a moment longer before finally shifting around to get the dog off his lap so he could stand up. The dog gave a put-upon grumble in response before lazily crawling forward to plant herself fully on Iwaizumi’s lap instead. Against his better judgement, his eyes strayed up, but they didn’t make it far before he caught the incriminating bulge in Oikawa’s pants and quickly returned his eyes to the dog, infinitely thankful for the fact that his own... issue was hidden underneath her fur now, instead. That didn’t keep his cheeks from burning, though.

Oikawa rounded the couch in a hurry after that to disappear down a hallway behind it. Iwaizumi continued to stare at the dog and she stared back up at him. She was awfully content to lie on him despite having just met him. Weren’t dogs normally more territorial around strangers? And why was she looking at him like that? He could swear she had this knowing glint in her eyes as if she had intentionally timed her entrance.

...Maybe he really did have a problem with projecting his problems onto others. He really should not be blaming this dog for the fact that he had just made out with his fake alpha not-boyfriend and got turned on by it. In his defense, he had already been pretty turned on ever since he watched Oikawa take down another alpha. It just hadn’t been this prominent until now. It occurred to him belatedly that that in no way defended himself whatsoever.

When Oikawa returned, he had a pillow and a blanket in his arms that he quietly deposited on the end of the couch. Iwaizumi noticed this and finally summoned the courage to look up at him, but his eyes were turned away and he was still slightly red in the face. Iwaizumi swallowed.

“You—you don’t have to—”

“No, no, it’s okay. You shouldn’t go out until you’ve rested, anyway,” Oikawa said quickly. “I mean, you don’t have to stay the night, I totally get it if you don’t want to, I’m just worried there’s still a chance you might have a concussion and I would really hate it if something happened to you on the way home and I’ll keep Mao-Mao in my room so she doesn’t bother you—”

“Mao-Mao?” Iwaizumi interrupted, mostly out of concern for the fact that Oikawa hadn’t taken a breath. He finally looked at him then, albeit with clear reluctance, and tried for a guilty smile.

“That’s her name?”

“...You named your dog after the sound a cat makes.”

“No, I—” Oikawa stopped himself with a defeated sigh. “Everyone says that… Anyway, just… You can sleep here if you want. Or you can leave. It’s up to you, just...make sure you’re okay first. Okay?”

“...Okay,” Iwaizumi said without giving a definitive answer to what he planned to do. Oikawa nodded, though he didn’t seem too relieved by the response. He called for “Mao-Mao”, who stood from Iwaizumi’s slowly numbing legs and finally hopped down to follow Oikawa out of the living room. He heard a mumbled “goodnight” before the other’s steps faded down the hallway and finally fell quiet behind the closing of a door.

Iwaizumi sat there for a while longer, staring at the pillow and blanket left for him. This was so incredibly awkward, but as much as he hated to admit it, Oikawa had a point. He shouldn’t try to go out right now. Sure, he could take a cab back home, but if he ended up passing out before he made it to the apartment, he would kind of be a little screwed. Not that he thought he would actually pass out. In fact, he was wholly certain there would be no issue with him leaving and going back to his own home for the night.

Even so, he found himself reaching for the pillow and blanket to set them up over the couch. He found the switch to turn off the living room light and settled into his makeshift bed. Turning onto his side to face the back of the couch, he couldn’t help but breathe in the scents that surrounded him that were distinctly Oikawa.

Man, he really needed to sort his shit out.