Chapter Text
Iwaizumi had seen him before the day at the café—several times, in fact.
The first time Oikawa caught his attention was on an especially crowded train. Iwaizumi had barely squeezed into the compartment and was gripping the overhead bar when a sudden, loud sound reverberated through the space. It was the infamous Imperial March from Star Wars. The entire car jolted with surprise, heads whipping around in confusion.
Iwaizumi had almost rolled his eyes, thinking someone was being obnoxious. But then he saw him— the culprit.
A tall man with perfectly styled brown hair frantically fumbled with his phone, his cheeks flushing a deep red. "Sorry, sorry!" Oikawa muttered, embarrassed as he finally silenced the offending music. Everyone else grumbled and returned to whatever they were doing, but Iwaizumi kept staring.
It wasn’t the phone that held his attention, though. It was Oikawa himself. His face was strikingly familiar, and he had a certain energy that intrigued Iwaizumi. Something about his wide, startled eyes and the way he pressed his lips together made Iwaizumi feel oddly amused.
But before Iwaizumi could overthink it, his own phone buzzed in his pocket. Sighing, he pulled it out. It was his boss.
"Hey, Iwaizumi, we have a situation. Kageyama and Hinata… uh, well, they broke the printer. Again. I need you to head back to the office and sort it out. ASAP."
Iwaizumi closed his eyes, trying to stay calm. "Of course they did," he muttered, glancing at the time. He was supposed to be off the clock already, but duty called.
He had left the train at the next stop, the stranger from the Imperial March already fading from his mind. He hadn’t expected to see him again, after all.
But fate had other plans.
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The Cafeteria Incident
Oikawa’s surprised look when Iwaizumi had appeared again at the café was almost comical. He remembered the guy from the train instantly. Oikawa, however, clearly had no idea that he’d already left such an impression.
But that wasn’t the most surprising thing to Iwaizumi. What struck him more was how he kept running into the same man. After that initial train incident, he’d seen Oikawa two or three times more, always in passing. One time, it was at the station where Iwaizumi saw him struggling with his card. He’d handed it back to him, barely noticing the small alien sticker on the cover until later.
The universe, apparently, wasn’t done playing with them.
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A Month Later: Asking the Question
By the time a month had passed, Iwaizumi couldn’t shake the growing curiosity he had about Oikawa. It was strange—he wasn’t usually someone who believed in fate or coincidences. But here he was, sitting on Oikawa’s couch, watching *Star Wars* for what felt like the hundredth time.
Oikawa had insisted.
“You can’t date me and not watch Star Wars ,” he’d said, almost matter-of-factly, before forcing Iwaizumi to sit through A New Hope .
It was halfway through The Empire Strikes Back , though, that Iwaizumi decided to do something reckless. Oikawa was mid-rant about the inconsistencies of the remastered versions when Iwaizumi turned to him with a serious expression.
"Date me, you should" Iwaizumi said in a terrible Yoda impression, barely keeping his voice steady.
Oikawa froze, his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn’t process what had just been said. Slowly, a grin spread across his face.
"You’re the worst Yoda ever," Oikawa teased, but his eyes were soft, gleaming with something more.
"Is that a yes?" Iwaizumi asked, feeling slightly stupid but too far in to back out now.
Oikawa laughed, throwing himself back into the couch cushions. "Of course it's a yes, you nerd."
Iwaizumi didn’t know what felt better: Oikawa’s acceptance or the fact that he had finally broken through that flirtatious, teasing exterior to find something real.
Maybe the universe really did have a hand in this after all.