Work Header

scenter of attention

Work Text:



It isn’t weird to see Iwa-chan be affectionate around his family. They’re his family, after all (and if Oikawa’s family was affectionate then the Iwaizumis definitely had it worse)—but it is particularly entertaining to see Iwa-chan go a little unhinged over a baby.

“Hime-himeko!” he cooes, scooping up his cousin’s kid and gathering her in his unfairly buff arms. Oikawa, hand to his hip, watches Iwaizumi from the doorway.

“You’re going to give her a concussion,” he states amusedly, watching as Himeko flails around in Iwa-chan’s arms. Oikawa smiles, “When her parents come back you are gonna be so dead.”

“Nonsense!” Iwaizumi says, and it’s exaggerated like it always is around his niece and nephews, as if by keeping his voice an octave higher he’s being entertainment to the kids.

(He is.)

Iwaizumi bounces Himeko a couple times more before he angles them both toward his best friend.

“That’s…?” he prompts Himeko, looking enthusiastically between his niece and Oikawa. “Who is that!”

Himeko smiles toothlessly, balling her hands into determined little fists. “Toowu-nii!”

“That’s right! That’s—” Iwaizumi gives Oikawa a side-squint, “Toowu-nii. Very good, Hime-hime.”

Shittykawa is too busy laughing, but he joins in and calls out, “Very good, Himeko-chan,” while he stalks toward the two Iwaizumis.

He’s over—not technically because he needs to have a reason to be—because it had been mentioned in passing that today, there was going to be a day trip, and Iwaizumi’s parents were going to take their visiting relatives sight-seeing somewhere.

Himeko was bad with car rides, so Iwaizumi was more than willing to stay at home and babysit her; which Oikawa knew, so he wasn’t exactly hoping to catch Iwaizumi alone.

“She’s so cute, Iwa-chan,” he whispers when he’s right by Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

He grins, almost unreasonably proud, before turning to Himeko again and proceeding to gas up her ego.

“You hear that? Toowu-nii says you’re cute, Hime-hime! What do we say to that?”

“Tank woo, Toowu-nii…?”

Iwaizumi tuts good-naturedly. “The other thing, Hime-hime.” And then he smiles in that too-familiar, no-good way. And really, Oikawa should’ve known.

Himeko garbles something that sounds vaguely like I know, and Iwaizumi is laughing, and Oikawa is gaping, because did Iwaizumi Hajime just make his cousin’s little baby respond to a compliment with “I know”?

“Just around you,” Iwaizumi grins, as if reading his mind. “She’s gotta know her worth, and having you around’s part of the training.”

Oikawa squawks, indignant. “Why am I part of the training! And how?”

“Well first of all,” Iwaizumi adjusts his grip on Himeko, “she has to be immune to pretty boys, and I’m not gonna admit it again but you fit the bill—” Oikawa snickers, and Iwaizumi goes on. “Please shut up. And second…”

He fixes his grip on Himeko again, who is actually pretty behaved for something so cheerful and bubbly. She doesn’t grasp at the spiked strands of Iwaizumi’s hair when he presses his cheek to hers and looks at Oikawa with a subtle pout.

“She’s like you.”

“Hey!” But Oikawa’s laughing. “You don’t gas up my ego!”

“That’s because yours doesn’t need gassing. Right, Himeko?”

Himeko giggles, and kisses Iwa-chan’s nose. (It’s a gesture that Oikawa’s seen them do a hundred times—something small and yet sweet and really telling about their relationship.) Iwaizumi kisses hers right back.

And then he looks to Oikawa, and with difficulty—because Himeko is still giggling in his arms—he tugs him down by the back of his neck, and kisses his nose, too.



“Stay here.”

“Mm-hm. Okay.”

Oikawa watches Iwaizumi half-jog toward the vending machine, in good spirits after a successful practice match. Date Tech was a hassle as always, but there was very little Aoba Johsai’s ace couldn’t do. He jogs back a moment later, two cans in one hand, and Oikawa worries for a second that Iwaizumi had gotten them both coffee.

“It’s fine, this is the lighter kind,” Iwaizumi says as he comes back over to him. Oikawa makes a face, before one of the cans is on his cheek, and he thinks, when Iwaizumi leans down, he’s going to kiss him.

He doesn’t, but he does kiss Oikawa’s nose—the same way he had about a week ago, when they’d been around Himeko.

“Don’t be so whiny,” Iwaizumi whispers, voice hoarse and low. And that’s how he naturally is, but come on. Oikawa thinks it’s unfair that he doesn’t need to even try to be off-putting.

“Whatever,” he scrunches his nose, and it looks kind of like Iwaizumi wants to kiss it again.



He does. Kiss Oikawa’s nose again, that is.

It became a habit, and became one quickly because Oikawa never complained.

In fact, he didn’t even say anything, whenever it happened.

Matsukawa nudges Takahiro’s side while they’re in the middle of packing. This practice had been a little strenuous, if only because everyone was having so much fun, and so was the coach, that they didn’t really stop until the whole club was panting for breath.


Iwaizumi was knelt in front of Oikawa, likely asking if he was hurt anywhere, or if he aggravated his knee. Shaking his head, Oikawa smiled at him, and Iwaizumi stood up to place a light peck—a kiss—on his nose.

And then he—and Oikawa—had both gone right back to packing.

“They’re dating, what did you expect.” Hanamaki’s voice is deadpan, with little suspicion directed at Issei, who normally was never obvious about his curiosity.

“Iwaizumi’s never affectionate,” Matsukawa points out. “And Oikawa isn’t teasing him about it.”

“Maybe they grew up?” Hanamaki tries, but now he’s caught up too. “Just get dressed and let’s fuckin’ think about it later.”

(Later, Iwaizumi does it again. In front of the whole team, this time.)

He doesn’t seem to be aware, and Kindaichi tries to tell Kunimi so, but Kunimi just huffs.

“Of course he’s not aware,” he says. “Look, the way he watches Oikawa-san.”

Iwaizumi is pretending to be pissed at something Oikawa said, kicking up dust as he tries to get ahead of him. There’s still a way to go before the team gets to the noodle shop, and the captains are leading the pack, but doing a silly job at it.

“I’ll be dead before it happens, Shittykawa!”

The team watches as Iwaizumi kicks the back of Oikawa’s thighs, and then as he catches Oikawa’s face in his hands and kisses his nose lightly.

They’re left behind for a moment as the team passes them by, snickering at Oikawa’s face that is distorted in protest.

“Mean, Iwa-chan!”



Iwaizumi doesn’t do it on purpose. Purpose, to him, means doing things deliberately and with the rationality of at least a few brain cells. Kissing Oikawa’s nose like he did Himeko’s had been an impulse, spurred on by his affection that he still tries to conceal.

Iwaizumi doesn’t do it on purpose.

At first, at least, he didn’t.

The fourth time though, after Oikawa had come to his room at lunch with the haughty announcement of good test marks in chem, Iwaizumi found himself deliberately wanting; to kiss Oikawa on the nose and tell him good job, or to just really kiss his nose in general.

It hadn’t really happened like that before. But he leaned up, ruffled his best friend-slash-lover’s mop of hair, and then kissed him just there, right on the tip of his nose.

He dropped his arms fast, fully intending to wipe the floor with the smirk still on Oikawa’s face.



Oikawa doesn’t think too much about it.

Iwa-chan still kisses Himeko on the nose, and his nephews too (their stay had gotten extended), but there was something Iwaizumi had started doing recently, changing the rhythm of the harmless little gesture.

He’d started closing his eyes. The moment Iwaizumi pulls him down, or stands on his tip-toes (never mention that to him), Iwaizumi closes his eyes and doesn’t open them again until he’s distant enough that when he does, he’ll be able to look at Oikawa.

When that happens, it’s kind of magical.

Iwaizumi’s eyes are a pretty type of green. Oikawa doesn’t know what it’s called, or if there’s even a name for that shade—just that it belonged to Iwaizumi, and it belonged to him alone. Sometimes though, when he opens them to peer almost cross-eyed at Oikawa, the taller boy feels as though he’s being lent the color; that they are Iwa-chan’s eyes, but are reflected in his, too. Mixing in with the brown to make up some really earthy color.

Those are some of the best moments. (At par, almost, with sharing a breath.) The eyes are the windows to the soul and when they take the time to stare, it feels as though they are sharing that thing, too. And inclined as Oikawa is to argue that no, he and Iwa-chan don’t share a soul, he finds he has no real, compelling counterpoints.

They’re in tune. It’s insane. And that’s why Oikawa doesn’t wonder too long about what Iwa-chan means, when he closes his eyes and pecks his nose and looks at him like he’s the stars.

He knows already, how deep the love runs between them.



“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa gasps when he runs past his gate in a rush. Iwaizumi is already there because Oikawa is late, and they’d agreed to meet up thirty minutes ago. “I slept through my alarm,” he adds, by way of explanation.

Iwaizumi strides over to meet him halfway, then says good morning with a kiss on Oikawa’s nose.

He smiles. “Hey.”



Iwaizumi’s lips are too soft for him to be kissing Oikawa like he’s a dying man. Every chance he gets he goes, “‘Kawa,” or doesn’t speak at all, either way moving in or motioning for his boyfriend to face him, before kissing his nose very quickly. It’s always his nose. It’s always.

There’s not a single bone in Oikawa’s body that even aches to complain.

On another Saturday with the adults out of the house, Oikawa finds himself in the Iwaizumi kitchen, humming away to himself because Iwa-chan’s not in the room. Upstairs, he’s tucking in Himeko, who is knocked out just in time for her mid-morning nap. He fiddles with some apples, pleased when he’s cut them into pretty bunny shapes.

“Could you do that for Himeko, when she wakes up?”

Oikawa smiles, but doesn’t need to turn from his activity to respond. He squints at his latest bunny shape. “Does she like apples?”

“Everyone likes apples.” Iwaizumi falls into the space beside him. “Can I try?”

“Can I make fun of you if it turns out bad?”

Iwaizumi glares at him for a while. His eyes drop to the bump of Oikawa’s nose and he’s not immune, so he kisses it before he retorts, “It won’t.”

He doesn’t get the chance to try it long enough to know if it really won’t turn out bad, because Oikawa keeps scrunching his nose at every single non-mistake he makes, and Iwaizumi’s really, really at the end of his line.

Oikawa is cornered by the sink in about ten minutes, laughing mutely at the small fire that’s started burning in Iwaizumi’s eyes. But he doesn’t move away. He knows what’s coming next.

Iwaizumi’s lips are soft, on Oikawa’s nose. He pulls away with a surprise, this time.

“I love you,” he whispers lowly. Not shy, not since the first time. He lends Oikawa the green of his eyes and watches chocolate melt.

Oikawa knows the words—feels them strongly—but can’t find the power to voice them, and echo back. Instead he lets himself be smoldered to catch Iwaizumi’s flame.

“I love you,” Iwaizumi says again, this time before the peck on Oikawa’s nose. He cups his jaw and does it again, and again, says, “I love you.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa giggles, breathless.

“I loooove you,” is his boyfriend’s playful answer, still attacking him with his lips, peppering his nose with kisses. “Hime-hime’s Toowu-nii. My Tooru, my love.”

A kiss again.

“I love you. You’re so cute.”

“Iwa-chan!” Undeterred. Another kiss. Oikawa laughs. “Hajime!”

Iwaizumi pulls back, pretending to be offended. “What?”

“You’re adorable, Hajime.”

“Well, duh,” and then he kisses Tooru’s nose again. “I gotta keep up with you.”

“No.” Oikawa moves forward, and for the first time, returns the favor. Iwaizumi blanks, when Oikawa’s lips land on his nose. “I gotta keep up with you.”



Hanamaki eyes the captains with a suspicion that is second only to his outside character. To Matsukawa, he says, “Those two are surprisingly subdued today.”

Issei hums. “Yep, they haven’t—nope. Wait. There they go again.”

Beside them, Kindaichi and his infamous hair pop in. “Kunimi says we ought to stop betting because those two won’t ever lose.”

“Except to each other,” Kunimi adds without much care. “Maybe.”

“I doubt it,” Hanamaki says. “You think Oikawa’ll retaliate before or at the noodle shop?”

The rest answer in unison. “Before.”



When his nose is being kissed, Oikawa’s reactions are the most adorable, most kindergarten thing Iwaizumi thinks he’s ever seen. His eyelids flutter shut, but not before he flounders in confusion, and then when it’s replaced with the rush of understanding.

Peck, and Oikawa’s eyes will shut a little further. He’ll pretend he’s not smiling, and fail, because he does smile, even if it’s just a tiny tug at his mouth, or the subtle way by which he attempts to purse his lips—which he bites, sometimes, even.

His eyebrows twitch, just a bit, with the effort of keeping his eyes closed; and when he thinks Iwaizumi’s done with him he cracks his right eye open first, and barely gets to open the left one when Iwaizumi kisses his nose again.

In the after, gazing at him, Iwaizumi feels his own eyes turn brown—heavy with the concentration of Oikawa, mesmerized by the glow of him. He feels a tiny tug at his soul, but ignores it sometimes, because really, he doesn’t need it for him to know he is where he wants to be.




Oikawa hums, concentrated on Minesweeper. He turns to Iwa-chan without turning. “Yeah?”

Iwa-chan chuckles, and it makes Oikawa really look.