Chapter Text
Oikawa is standing in line at the café when he sees Iwaizumi for the first time.
He’s right in front of him, and his chiseled jaw and piercing green eyes immediately capture Oikawa’s attention. His heart skips a beat when Iwaizumi smiles — even if just barely — as he walks past. He hears Oikawa fumble a bit while placing his order, some sugary monstrosity they call a frappuccino. Iwaizumi wrinkles his nose.
Well, he had to have some flaw.
Oikawa takes a seat at a table across from Iwaizumi. Normally, he would’ve walked over to the man with his best flirtatious smile, and if the guy wasn’t a total jerk, he might’ve asked for his number. But he got caught staring while waiting for his order, and suddenly, he felt like an awkward fifteen-year-old again.
Before he can snap out of his internal conflict, Oikawa sees Iwaizumi frown as he answers his phone.
Who could be calling? A girlfriend? Boyfriend? An ex who hasn’t moved on? A family issue?
And then he watches as Iwaizumi rushes out of the café.
Well, maybe that was for the best.
☼
The second time Oikawa sees him, he’s just finished his shift. It’s been a long day, filled with rude customers, and he’s grateful to Kuroo for helping him keep his cool, or else he might’ve ended the day behind bars.
When Oikawa reaches the station, the train is packed. He’s exhausted, with a deep ache settling at the base of his spine. He’s starting to think he should take Suga’s advice and sign up for that yoga class. All he wants is to get home, collapse on his couch, and watch Netflix until he passes out.
Oikawa is distracted, trying to decide whether to binge *Brooklyn Nine-Nine* for the thousandth time or watch that new documentary Kenma recommended. So, it’s no surprise when he loses his balance as the train jerks to a stop.
A strong arm catches him, preventing him from slamming into the door.
“Thanks,” he says automatically, his eyes traveling up the arm until they meet a familiar pair of green eyes.
“You’re welcome,” replies the man who has been occupying Oikawa’s dreams for the past few days. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”
“No, definitely not.” Oikawa has never felt this magnetic pull toward someone before. He’s at a loss for what to do.
“Good thing I was here to catch you then,” Iwaizumi’s voice is warm and kind. Oikawa’s had a long day, and he’s exhausted, but Iwaizumi is looking directly into his eyes, and any coherent thought in his head vanishes.
Iwaizumi exits at the next stop, giving him one of those soft, almost imperceptible smiles. Oikawa thinks he might be falling just a little bit in love.
☼
The third time Oikawa sees him, he recognizes him immediately. He’s on his way home after another long, exhausting week. If someone had told him during his first days at work that he’d be grateful for having Kuroo and Bokuto as coworkers, he would’ve laughed in their face. He has no idea how he ended up friends with those two idiots, but it’s been great having them around.
Oikawa is rummaging through his bag, searching for his transit card. All he wants is to get through the turnstile, get home, and be completely useless for the rest of the weekend.
“Hey.” Oikawa jumps. He recognizes that voice instantly. “I think this is yours.”
He turns around, barely believing his luck. There they are again—those same green eyes he remembers. Iwaizumi is holding up his transit card, and Oikawa slightly regrets buying that silly alien-themed cardholder now.
“Thanks,” Oikawa says, fighting off a blush as he takes the card. Normally, he isn’t shy at all, but he has no idea why his brain malfunctions every time he’s near this man.
“No problem,” Iwaizumi replies, his hand lingering on the card even after Oikawa grabs it.
“I… uh…” Oikawa steps back, swallowing hard. “We’ve met before, right?”
He can almost hear Kuroo teasing him in his head. He knows he’s being ridiculous, but he needs to pull himself together and make a move.
“From the train, last week,” Iwaizumi replies. “And the café the week before that.”
“Oh, right,” Oikawa says. “I forgot about the café.” He didn’t forget, and he knows he’s not fooling anyone.
“Iwaizumi Hajime,” Iwaizumi says, extending his hand.
“Oikawa Tooru,” he responds, shaking it.
There’s a silent moment where neither of them does anything but look at their clasped hands.
“So,” Iwaizumi starts. He never thought of himself as shallow, but he couldn’t deny how handsome Oikawa was and how strangely drawn he felt. He might have let it go if that was all, but — don’t judge him — he’d overheard Oikawa chatting with his friends a few times on the phone, on occasions when Oikawa hadn’t noticed him on the train, and Iwaizumi found him surprisingly interesting and funny. “I know this is sudden,” he continues, “but would you want to go out sometime? For, uh, drinks or something?”
Iwaizumi decides to take the plunge. If he was wrong about Oikawa, he could move on, and maybe Mattsun and Makki would finally stop giving him grief about his “subway crush.” That’s what those two idiots called Oikawa after they’d caught Iwaizumi watching him one night on the way home.
“Uh?... Oh! Yeah,” Oikawa exhales, startled. “Drinks would be great. I’d love to.”
☼
The fourth time Oikawa sees him is just a day after the third. He wakes up in Iwaizumi’s bed, with Iwaizumi’s arm draped around his waist. Oikawa slips out of his grasp and sits up, taking a moment to look at him. Iwaizumi is covered by the sheet from the waist down, his hair a mess, and his lips slightly parted. God, those lips... who could’ve imagined what they were capable of?
Iwaizumi stirs in his sleep, his eyes still closed, then he blinks a few times before focusing on Oikawa.
“Morning,” he says, his voice deep and raspy from sleep.
“Morning,” Oikawa replies.
There’s a long pause. Oikawa feels uneasy, nervous. Should he have left when he woke up? Was that what Iwaizumi wanted? Had this been just a one-night thing?
“I… uh… should get going. It’s getting late,” he finally says, standing up.
“No!” Iwaizumi sits up and grabs Oikawa’s arm. “I mean… it’s not even 9:30. Stay. I’ll make breakfast.”
“Okay,” Oikawa smiles, feeling relieved.
Iwaizumi stands, pulling on some pants before tossing another pair to Oikawa.
“Here, you can wear these if you want.”
“Thanks.” Oikawa gets up and puts them on.
He’s staring at Iwaizumi again. He looks like some kind of god banished from Olympus. Oikawa mentally takes a snapshot of the moment. He still can’t quite believe this has happened. Oikawa has never struggled to find partners before, but Iwaizumi is... different. He gives Oikawa this strange warmth in his chest. He feels like Icarus, drawn fervently to the sun, unable to do anything but try to get closer.
Iwaizumi glances over his shoulder and asks how many eggs he wants, and Oikawa decides he could get used to this if given the chance.
☼
Oikawa loses count of how many times he sees Iwaizumi — or, now, Iwa-chan — after that.