“Do you ever actually use your phone?”
The question caught Iwaizumi off-guard. Maybe not the question itself, but the narrow-eyed glare that came with it from across the table.
“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi asked, taking a bite of his noodles.
Oikawa narrowed his gaze even further with a harrumph, turning his body away from Iwaizumi and crossing his arms.
Iwaizumi sighed, setting down his chopsticks. “Tooru, what is it?”
“Nothing,” Oikawa mumbled, turning impossibly further away from Iwaizumi.
Iwaizumi groaned, reluctantly getting up from his seat to walk around to Oikawa’s side. Oikawa immediately seemed to develop a keen interest in the tiles of their kitchen floor.
“Hey, look at me,” Iwaizumi reached a hand out to shove gently at Oikawa’s shoulder.
“What?” Oikawa rolled his eyes, finally looking up at Iwaizumi.
“Don’t ‘what’ me,” Iwaizumi huffed, “You’re the one who won’t say what’s wrong. How many times have I told you, I can’t read your mind.”
Oikawa shrugged, fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t—ah, nevermind.”
Iwaizumi furrowed his brow, then crossed his legs as he sat on the floor in front of Oikawa.
“What are you doing?” Oikawa asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Iwaizumi shrugged, “I’m not leaving this spot until you talk to me.”
“You better get comfortable, then,” Oikawa grumbled.
Iwaizumi made a show of settling in, leaning back on his arms. Oikawa shook his head in exasperation.
A few minutes passed by in uncharacteristic silence, Oikawa occasionally glancing over to where Iwaizumi was waiting with restrained patience. Just as the floor was beginning to become uncomfortable and Iwaizumi was considering just leaving Oikawa to mope like he usually did, Oikawa sighed.
“You don’t like my photos,” he mumbled quietly.
“What?” Iwaizumi laughed.
“See, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you!” Oikawa reprimanded, cheeks flushing. “I knew you’d make fun of me, Iwa-chan!”
“Because you’re ridiculous!”
Oikawa stuck his lip out in a pout, and Iwaizumi knew he’d said the wrong thing. Without hesitation, he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his phone. There was no use fighting with Oikawa when he got into one of his moods, and he didn’t really feel like making him suffer at the moment.
“What, are you taking a photo of me now so you can laugh at it later with the others?” Oikawa accused, trying and failing to use anger in order to mask that he was upset by Iwaizumi’s actions.
Iwaizumi shook his head, standing up to show Oikawa his phone. “Of course not, dumbass. I’m logging into the app—which I haven’t used for months, by the way—and I’m going to go like all your pictures, even the ones from years ago.”
“That’s creepy, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined, but Iwaizumi could tell he was pleased by the way the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.
“Mm, and it’s going to feed your ego even more,” Iwaizumi said, scrolling through Oikawa’s photos and double tapping on each. How many did the guy even have? Hopefully not too many, Iwaizumi didn’t want his fingers to cramp up.
“You love my ego,” Oikawa said in a sing-song tone.
Iwaizumi chuckled dryly, “No, I really don’t.”
“But you love me!” Oikawa draped himself across Iwaizumi’s back, resting his chin on one of his shoulders.
“Unfortunately,” Iwaizumi replied absentmindedly.
“Hey!” Oikawa frowned, jabbing Iwaizumi in his side. “That’s mean!”
“Sorry,” Iwaizumi replied half heartedly, though he did turn his head to the side to place a quick kiss against Oikawa’s cheek.
More than half an hour had passed, Oikawa had left to get groceries, and Iwaizumi was still scrolling through the seemingly endless expanse of Oikawa’s photos. The sound of the front door opening caught Iwaizumi’s attention, and he raised his head just as Oikawa shut the door behind himself.
Oikawa tilted his head in confusion, setting down grocery bags he was carrying.
“What did I do now?”
Iwaizumi shoved his phone screen towards Oikawa, “How many?!”
Oikawa laughed, a tinkling sound that set Iwaizumi’s nerves on end, “Ahh, Iwa-chan! If you’d just liked each one as I posted it you wouldn’t be having this problem!”
Iwaizumi groaned. He turned his phone screen off and set it down on the table, leaning back in his chair and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. Colours sparked behind his eyelids, and he couldn’t tell whether it was from the pressure against his eyes, the prolonged exposure to the light from his phone screen, or the sheer irritation of Oikawa.
He heard a light chuckle, followed by some footsteps. Fingers carded softly through his hair, and then gentle lips pressed against his forehead.
“I love you, Iwa-chan~”
“I love you too, dumbass.”