Hajime clenches his teeth, propping his elbows up on his knees and staring fixedly at a point on the wall. Oikawa’s not really that good at being punctual, and Hajime has had years of experience with that, but this is on a whole new level. He checks his phone for the thirtieth time. Over an hour. He has been sitting on Oikawa’s couch for over an hour. “This is ridiculous,” Hajime mutters, rubbing fiercely at the back of his neck, and then he straightens up. A man has limitations. “I’m leaving without you,” he shouts down the hall.
Of course, magically, this is when Oikawa waltzes out of the bathroom. “I’m coming,” he chides, like he hasn’t just spent an exorbitant amount of time making sure his hair is perfectly coiffed for his fan girls. Hajime levels his best irritated glare at him, and Oikawa just basks in it. “Tch. So impatient, Iwa-chan~”
If it hadn’t been for the rare moment of sincerity when Oikawa had insisted that Hajime help him shop today, he would’ve been long gone. But years of experience have taught Hajime the difference between when Oikawa wants him around, and when he wants him around, and so here he is. Oikawa is so very lucky that Hajime loves him. “If you weren’t vain as a peacock, we could have been out of here an hour ago,” he growls, standing to pull on his jacket.
He follows Oikawa out the door, and he nearly stumbles when Oikawa catches his arm and takes it captive. “Don’t be jealous, Iwa-chan.” Hajime allows Oikawa exactly a second to pet through his hair before he jerks away from his grip. “If only you put the tiniest bit of effort into your looks, maybe the girls would spare you a glance.” Hajime plants a hand in Oikawa’s face and shoves him away, taking a small moment of pleasure in Oikawa’s undignified squawk and ugly pout. “My hair!”
“You deserved it,” Hajime tells him, not even a little sorry. Oikawa rounds on him, pouting intensifying, but Hajime has had years to become immune to Oikawa’s ‘charms’. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”
As they head out of Oikawa’s building, Oikawa has already lost interest in Hajime’s complaints, too busy fluttering his fingers in greeting at a pair of blushing high schoolers on the corner. “Of course,” he says breezily, carefully sweeping an errant hair back into place. “Mustn’t waste time.” He turns to look over his shoulder at Hajime, flapping an impatient hand. “Come along.”
Hajime’s answering glare is wasted on the back of Oikawa’s head, but he likes to think that Oikawa can still feel it. “You are not nearly as important as you think you are,” he tells him.
The moment he catches up to Oikawa, his wrist is not his again, wrapped in Oikawa’s iron grip. Hajime frowns at him, shifting so that he can lace their fingers together instead. He’d like to have at least moderate blood flow into his fingers. “I’m exactly as important as I think I am,” Oikawa says, looking at him, and Hajime doesn’t have an answer for that.
Hajime still isn’t really sure what the point of this whole shopping expedition is, and every time he tries to get an answer about it, Oikawa is just artfully cagey. He’s already dragged Hajime through four different clothing stores, looking for just the right cardigan, and Hajime had nearly clocked him when he’d spent twenty minutes trying on and taking off two sweaters in practically identical shades of green. In the end, he’d decided on neither, and Hajime had to suppress the urge to strangle him, since they were in public.
Now, they’re wandering through an open market as slowly as humanly possible. Hajime would rush Oikawa along, if he thought it’d work, but he’s fairly certain that Oikawa doesn’t actually have any plan for the day. Instead, he’s meandering around, one hand In Hajime’s as he charms the ladies working the stalls into giving him samples of everything. “Oooh,” he purrs, wiggling his shoulders. “Iwa-chan, you have to try this.”
Hajime looks pointedly at his phone. He could be at home, studying for next week’s test, but no, he’s here instead. Because apparently his presence is vital. “I’m not hungry,” he begins, but Oikawa has his pleasantly determined face on and that toothpick is coming at Hajime’s mouth whether he likes it or not.
He opens up reluctantly and Oikawa feeds him a mouthful, gentle fingertips on his jaw. Hajime, despite himself, leans into the touch. “Good, right?” he says. He turns to the older woman running the stall, talking about recipes, and Hajime chews and savours the bite. He hates it when Oikawa is right, especially if he’s obnoxious in the process. “We should pick up something to eat tonight!”
Like Oikawa is going to cook. “I wasn’t aware we were having dinner together,” Hajime says, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.
Oikawa pats his shoulder patronizingly. “Why wouldn’t we?” he asks, and Hajime knocks his hand away, retaliating with a slap to Oikawa’s gut. Hajime takes a moment to savour the ugly face that Oikawa makes, and the squeaky noise. “So mean, Iwa-chan!” He bids the lady goodbye, and they move on.
“I have work to do,” Hajime reminds him. He’s got that test coming up, and his birthday’s in two days. He’d rather not have to spend all day on schoolwork if he doesn’t have to. “Because you’ve wasted my whole day.”
“It’s not a waste,” Oikawa says, offended. “Don’t you like spending quality time with the love of your life?”
It startles a laugh out of Hajime. “You’ve got a pretty high estimation of yourself,” he tells Oikawa. It’s not a correction, though.
“Soulmate,” Oikawa says serenely, and Hajime trips him just to get the smug look off his face. Of course, graceful as he is, Oikawa doesn’t end up falling on his head, but it’s a near thing. He catches himself at the last minute, throwing a wounded look at Hajime. Hajime holds his hand out again, and lets Oikawa reel him in until he’s tucked under Oikawa’s arm. “You should be nicer to someone so important to you,” Oikawa says.
Hajime snorts. “If I were any nicer to you, your ego wouldn’t be able to fit through the door.” Oikawa makes this high pitched, outraged noise, and Hajime allows himself to smile for a moment, a bit fondly. Today may have been a waste of time, but it wasn’t that bad. Not really.
It’s late by the time they get back to Oikawa’s. Hajime yawns and tries not to think about the studying he needs to do. “I can’t believe you didn’t buy anything,” he grumbles, rubbing at his eyes. “All that for nothing.”
“Ah, but you don’t regret a thing, Iwa-chan~” Oikawa says it so matter-of-factly, patting Hajime’s chest. He fumbles through his pockets for his keys and his phone rings. “Ah, can you unlock for me?” He pushes his keys into Hajime’s face and turns away to take the call, and it’s sheer luck that Hajime catches them before they hit the ground.
“You’re welcome,” Hajime calls over his shoulder. While Oikawa chatters away to someone about next week’s game, Hajime rolls his eyes and unlocks, leaving Oikawa behind at the door. He’s been here enough that he doesn’t feel uncomfortable toeing off his shoes and heading in without Oikawa. He’s got to use the bathroom, anyway.
He’s tossed the keys onto the table and taking a detour through the living room when all of the lights flick on at once and he’s surrounded by all his friends and teammates, shouting “SURPRISE!” He freezes, staring around at them, as Kindaichi approaches, holding out a cake.
“What is this?” he demands, a smile pulling at his lips, and long arms wrap around him from behind.
“You didn’t really think I’d forget your birthday, did you?” Oikawa says, hooking his chin on Hajime’s shoulder. “I’m offended you think so little of me.” He squeezes Hajime tight and rocks them back and forth, flapping a hand at everyone to start the round of ‘happy birthday’.
Hajime can feel a flush creeping up his cheeks. He can even see some of their old rivals hanging around, although he’s got no idea how Oikawa managed to talk Kageyama into attending. All of his wasted time today makes a lot more sense, now. Of course Oikawa would be the best choice to distract him while things were being prepared. “I hate surprises,” he says, though that’s not particularly true.
“No, you don’t,” Oikawa says, tipping his head to press his cheek against Hajime’s. Hajime can feel him smile. “Happy birthday, baby.”
Kindaichi holds the cake up for him to blow out the candles, and Hajime lets one hand fall to rest against Oikawa’s, thumb pressing against the bones of his wrist. Yeah. He smiles, and leans forward. Happy birthday.