Chapter Text
Spotted: Drunk Oikawa Tooru skipping and humming on his way to the IceBreaker.
This raises two questions.
1. Why is he so cute?
2. How is he still alone?
We may never know. However – one of you unconventionally to otherworldly attractive people has the chance to change question #2 and get a taste of the most in-demand lips on campus, as well as this week's Toorubear. So swing your cute butts to the IceBreaker, and remember;
You are being oikawatched.
xoxo
Oikawa stuffed his phone back into his pocket with a grin.
Yes – he was indeed drunk before the night had even properly started. Kuroo and Bokuto had made sure of that before they released him out onto campus to go and find his weekly conquest. But thanks to Oikawatch, his conquests usually came to find him, so Oikawa had all the time in the world to meet some of his friends at the IceBreaker before he went to mingle on the dance-floor and bathe in the crowd's admiration.
He liked the risk, the little pang of fear seething at the bottom of his stomach right before he downed the first shot, knowing fully well that his drunk persona was dangerous, especially if everyone around him was still sober. He liked to give in to that danger – of not being under control with everyone's eyes on him. He was a scandalous guy, born to entertain and be entertained.
Being drunk was like ebb for his insecurities and flow for his narcissistic tendencies. It made him feel mighty. There was only one downside to it; namely that he was prone to letting his guard down.
Sober Oikawa would have kept his eyes open, always on the lookout for a pair of fuzzy caterpillars posing as eyebrows, sensing that boring stare from across rooms and campuses. Oikawa had made it a hobby to avoid his old rival as well as he could, not wanting him to think that they could be something like friends now that they were forced to play volleyball together.
Drunk Oikawa somehow ended up with his side pressed against said rival, in a tiny IceBreaker booth, about to fuck it up to an extent that would take a huge amount of patience and tact to unfuck again. Two things he was not exactly famous for.
But we are skipping a few steps here.
The point was; Oikawa was already drunk when he arrived at the night club he had agreed to meet his friends at, so he slid into the booth across from Shirofuku without checking who was already squeezed into the corner of that same seat.
How should he have known that Shirofuku had enough drive and/or self-hatred to try and get Ushijima Wakatoshi to behave like a normal human being by dragging him along to a nightclub? How should he have known she would succeed?
Shirofuku was the only one Oikawa had seen sitting in the booth from afar – the others still had to be at the bar to get their first cocktail of the evening. But once Oikawa tried to slide into the seat across from hers, he suddenly collided with another body.
"Uwah!” he yelped, twice. The first time when he unexpectedly came in contact with someone's thigh, the second time once he realized that the thigh was attached to Ushijima Wakatoshi. Luckily, Oikawa was drunk enough for the confusion to win over the aversion, so he just moved to get some more space between himself and his old rival, and regarded Ushijima with a condescending look. "Oh my, Ushiwaka-chan, I almost didn't notice you there. You're so stony, you melt right into that wall."
Oikawa giggled at his own joke and reached for Ushijima's drink, which was surprisingly colorful.
"I'm sorry," Ushijima said. He sounded as earnest as ever, but his speech lagged a little; proof that he was not some artificial stone golem immune to the alcohol's effect. "Do you want me to change seats?"
A sensible offer – who would have guessed? Oikawa gave a thoughtful hum as he took a sip from the drink, only to distort his mouth. It tasted extremely bitter - not at all the way it looked. Disgusting. He quickly pushed the glass back to its rightful owner. "No, it's fine for now. I'm already tipsy, so that insignificant pride of mine is..." He imitated two fluttering wings with his hands, and reached for the next unguarded drink on the table, which happened to be Shirofuku's. Ushjima watched his antics attentively, until Oikawa realized that he hadn't finished his sentence. "Spending the winter in warmer regions,” he added with a shrug.
"It's not winter," Ushijima remarked. It was a stupid comment, so Oikawa ignored him in favor of defending his right to get a free taste of every drink on the table.
"A sip and a gulp are two different things, Oikawa!" Shirofuku insisted, pulling at her glass without much force in case Oikawa would suddenly let go.
"Lies and slander, they're synonyms - right, Ushiwaka-chan?"
It would have been wiser to keep ignoring Ushijima, but Oikawa decided it was more fun to try and include him in their silly, drunken discussions, simply because it was impossible to imagine him partaking in silly, drunken discussions.
Ushijima looked surprised - apparently he had already settled for being ignored.
"Well, I think they are related words," he said, carefully. "But not synonyms."
"Related words," Oikawa repeated, rolling his eyes. "That's good enough."
"Give me my drink, you damn leech!" Shirofuku was having none of it and started to kick in the direction of Oikawa's crotch underneath the table so that Oikawa had to escape into Ushijima's space again, pressing him even closer against the wall. Ushijima didn't complain, even though Oikawa was kicking his legs out to defend his vulnerable parts from Shirofuku's vicious attacks, and shook Ushijima enough to make him spill some of his drink.
Shirofuku only stopped when she spotted someone over Oikawa's shoulder, and she started waving her hands to gain the person's attention.
“Konoha!” she yelled. “Quick! You have to defend my honor!”
"What honor?" asked Konoha as he let himself sink down into the space next to Oikawa. The booth wasn't really made for three people on one side, but since Oikawa was already half sitting in Ushijima's lap, Konoha had no problems squeezing in.
Oikawa cackled in response to Konoha's comment and forgot to kick him out of his seat because of it. Besides - drunk Oikawa was extremely touchy-feely, and he actually liked being squeezed between two bodies, even when one of them was Ushijima's. After all - there was nothing wrong with Ushijima's body. It was just the guy inside it that made Oikawa's brain short-circuit with anger every time they so much as exchanged a word.
"If not my honor, at least defend my drink!" Shirofuku ordered, to which Konoha quickly poked Oikawa in the side.
"Ah! Unfair!" Oikawa whined, but he noticed the new drink Konoha had brought along and reached for it only to be met with another hand slapping his own away. Misaki and Terushima had both returned from the bar, and Misaki ruffled Oikawa's hair a touch too forcefully for it to be affectionate.
"Go get your own drink, Oikawa," she said. "And everyone else another round - you definitely owe it to us by now."
"No way, it's just common courtesy to let your friends have a sip from your drink!"
"Sip, not gulp!" Shirofuku insisted again, looking into her glass with a grim expression. At least Oikawa had left her the piece of pineapple that decorated the rim - he knew that it was dangerous to steal food from Shirofuku. While taking some of her drink just resulted in whining and a bit of a scuffle, taking her food would probably earn him a stinging slap and a lifetime's worth of death glares across campus. Luckily, Oikawa was not the one who had been made an example of - that unenviable honor was Bokuto's.
"You can have a gulp from my drink if you pay me back with your body," Terushima offered with a wink.
For a moment, Oikawa actually considered giving Terushima the rare opportunity for a second steamy dance-floor make-out. Truth be told, he felt a bit lazy today, and Terushima was a good kisser. Plus, he had never pushed for more, which had been an unexpected but welcome surprise. Oikawa just wanted to touch people and kiss people and then forget about them the next day. But it usually ended on an awkward note, because - let's face it - Oikawa was far too pretty to not fall in love with instantly. It was one of the only downsides to being so beautiful.
"Not so fast!" said Konoha, slamming his fist onto the table and rattling the cocktails. "Damn you, Terushima - you flirted with me all evening, so you better stick to it! Oikawa is pretty enough, he can have anyone he wants."
"Not anyone. Some people here are actually monogamous," said Misaki, who sat in Shirofuku's lap so she wouldn't be pressed against Terushima too closely.
"Or not interested in boys," Shirofuku added, throwing her arms around Misaki and kissing her cheek.
"What the fuck!" said Oikawa. "Since when?"
"Are you asking since when Hana and I are a thing, or since when are there people not interested in you?" Shirofuku asked.
"The latter, obviously."
"Fuck you, too," said Shirofuku.
"Alright, alright, alright!" Terushima had already emptied his glass in less than two minutes, and was now waving it in Oikawa's direction. "Come on, Oikawa, let's go get another drink and leave these disgusting lovebirds to it for a minute."
"Hold on! I'm coming with you!" Konoha said. "I don't trust you!"
"Awww!" Terushima placed a hand on his chest in mock hurt. "Why can't I make out with both of you? Preferably at the same time. Wouldn't that be awesome?"
"I'm not gonna compete with Oikawa!" Konoha looked like Terushima had just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. "My self-esteem is low enough as it is."
Konoha seemed to be more intelligent than Oikawa had given him credit for. And he was right - Oikawa would find someone else. He always did. Letting his gaze drift lazily through the club, he tried to scan the crowd for people he deemed attractive enough, but came up short. Looked like he'd have to drink some attractiveness onto them.
Konoha and Terushima slid out of their seats, and Oikawa followed suit. He had already forgotten about Ushijima, so he almost jumped when he felt a hand at the small of his back, trying to keep contact so as not to get lost in the crowd.
"You're not even done with your drink yet!" Oikawa sneered. Ushijima was definitely scared to stay alone with the two girls - he was so awkward; sitting in the corner of the booth while watching them make out would probably make his head explode.
"It was too bitter," Ushijima said, shrugging. Oikawa could barely hear him over all the noise. "I'm in the mood for something sweeter."
"My, my, Ushiwaka-chan. You try so hard. You know - bitter fits you better."
They reached the bar, and it didn't take long for Terushima to gain the bartender's attention, so Oikawa didn't wait for Ushijima to respond. He wasn't trying to start a conversation, after all. He was here to have fun, not to be put to sleep. Ushijima's tall, brooding presence hovered just a little too close behind him, hand still touching his back. Oikawa could smell his breath when Ushijima leaned over him to give his order to the bartender - it smelled like the thing he'd been drinking, harsh and strong.
"Piña Colada, how uncreative," said Oikawa, scrunching up his nose. "You couldn't be more boring if you tried, huh?"
"What are you drinking?" Ushijima asked.
"Why, are you looking for tips to be more creative? It doesn't work that way, you can't just start to copy me."
"No, I'm trying to buy you a drink," said Ushijima, the fuzzy caterpillars above his eyes closing in on each other in an almost fascinating way. Oikawa couldn't help a sharp laugh. So now Ushijima was trying to buy his friendship - it was unbelievable. Still, he wouldn't say no to a free drink, he wasn't stupid - he knew that he didn't owe Ushijima anything, even if he accepted a drink from him.
"Well then," said Oikawa. "Surprise me!"
He ended up with a red-white, creamy concoction - something sweet with strawberries. Oikawa actually liked the drink, so he didn't complain, but he didn't say thank you either. He never asked to have a drink bought for him, after all.
On their way back to the table, Oikawa tested how much of Ushijima's Piña Colada he could pretend to taste before Ushijima said anything. He ended up drinking almost half the cocktail before Ushijima pulled the drink away.
"You'll be sick if you drink too fast," was all Ushijima said. Oikawa pretended not to hear him over the noise. Right now, he didn't feel sick in the least - he was reaching the exact right state of drunkenness where everything felt light and wobbly. The people around him still weren't attractive enough to make out with, though, so he took a long sip from his own cocktail. Ushijima's warm presence behind him made him crave physical contact even more than the alcohol, which was unfair, because he could hardly get that from Ushijima himself.
The thought made him giggle.
Here he was, on the hunt for a nice little affair with someone's tongue, and the only person to awaken Oikawa's interest happened to be his worst enemy. It was a good thing Ushijima was not the type to have random drunk make-out-sessions in clubs, because Oikawa could not rely on his brain right now.
Ushijima lifted a hand to Oikawa's hips for support when he heard Oikawa seemingly giggle at nothing, and Oikawa couldn't help feeling a little excited. It wasn't his fault that he loved flirting and touching and kissing so much, and it was even less his fault that there was a certain appeal to risks, like fraternizing with the enemy while drunk.
"Oh my, Ushiwaka-chan," he slurred, leaning back against Ushijima's chest and throwing a lazy grin over his shoulder. "What will people think when they see you touch me like that?"
Ushijima's hand shot back like Oikawa's skin had burned it and it made Oikawa giggle again. What an idiot Ushijima was... Oikawa couldn't believe he had never thought to bring him along to the club. Shirofuku was a genius. This far out of his element, Ushijima would probably flee with his tail between his legs before the night was done. Oikawa wouldn't want to miss it for the world.
"We both stand out easily, you and I," Oikawa hummed. Even though the hand was gone, the chest was still there to lean against. "People can't help but stare and wonder why a pretty guy like me would wanna be touched by a brute like you."
Ushijima furrowed his fuzzy caterpillars again, but as always, insulting him amounted to nothing. He just gave one of his apologies that weren't actually apologies - in this case, "I didn't mean to give anyone the wrong impression – I forgot about your fanclub" - and then his hand came back to grab Oikawa's shoulder. It would have been infuriating, if Oikawa were sober. But the alcohol made him feel too good to be bitter, and he quickly turned his head to take another sip from Ushijima's drink.
They must have lost Terushima and Konoha somewhere in the crowd, because once they reached the table, the two were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Futakuchi was just elbowing his way over, one of his hands attached to a girl's wrist. Oikawa took one look at the two of them and knew immediately what to do.
"Hey, Futa-chan! Glad you could make it!" he greeted, stumbling out of Ushijima's supporting grip, and towards a very afraid looking Futakuchi. Thankfully, there was not enough room for him to escape, and Oikawa was free to grip the back of Futakuchi's head and forcefully plant their lips together. It wasn't a very nice kiss, since Futakuchi spluttered into his mouth even before their lips met, but the damage was already done.
"FUCK!" Futakuchi yelled, turning around to the girl's retreating back. "Are you fucking crazy?" he added, looking back at Oikawa. "Why do you have to do this to me? I was on a date!"
"Not anymore," said Oikawa, shrugging. "Sorry - there's not enough room in our booth."
Misaki's voice piped up from the corner of the booth once she was able to detach herself from Shirofuku's lips long enough to form a sentence. "Leave the poor guy alone, already! Can't you see how badly he needs to get laid?"
"Oh, Misa-chan! How many things you don't know," Oikawa grinned, pushing Ushijima into the far back of the booth, where he had sat before. "This guy actually gets laid quite a lot, he's just having a little gay crisis, you see?"
"Shut the fuck up," said Futakuchi, burying his head in his hands.
"I won't let my cute little kouhai be used as a play-thing by a plain looking shithead like you," Oikawa said sweetly. "So you either stop knocking on Yahaba's door whenever you can't get it up for your squeaky little one night stands, or the next time I'll use tongue."
"Why did no one warn me he'd be here?" whined Futakuchi.
"You could just check his stupid stalker-website if you want to know where Oikawa is," said Shirofuku. It was muffled, since she was talking into Misaki's mouth. Oikawa scrunched his nose in distaste.
"Speaking of that website, I know that you guys are all dirty little informants," he said, shooting the two girls a stern look. "But you know what? I don't care. I'm so famous now, I can barely take two steps without being propositioned. It's not a bad way to live."
"And yet you still haven't found anyone to spend the evening with," said Shirofuku, looking smug.
Oikawa just rolled his eyes and sat down next to Ushijima, who was sipping on his bitter drink again, since Oikawa had already emptied his Piña Colada. "Whatever, I have standards," Oikawa said. "Also, I can't just waltz off and get some while there's a hopeless case sitting in this booth with us. I have a kind heart, you know?"
It took a while for Ushijima to notice that everyone's eyes were on him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, hesitant.
"I do wonder," said Futakuchi, squeezing himself in next to Oikawa, even though there was more than enough space on the other side of the booth. "Have you ever drunkenly made out in a club before, Ushijima?"
"I think the real questions here are 'have you ever made out with anyone' and 'have you ever been drunk'," Oikawa corrected.
"I can't really see it happening," said Shirofuku, looking thoughtful. "He's not the type."
"He's a good human being, you mean," said Misaki.
"Who's a good human being?" asked Terushima, who had finally found his way back from the bar, or whatever dark corner he and Konoha had taken a detour to. Konoha was right behind him, looking slightly breathless. "Anyone I know?"
"He's sitting right here," said Oikawa, leaning into Ushijima to mockingly tickle him with his hair. "Mister Perfect himself."
Terushima and Konoha somehow managed to squeeze themselves in next to the girls, Terushima imitating Misaki's pose and climbing onto Konoha's lap. "I can help you," Terushima offered generously, sending Ushijima a toothy grin. "If you ever want to come over to the dark side. We have -"
"Please don't say that stupid thing about having cookies, that's so lame," Shirofuku interrupted.
"We don't have cookies, we have sex," said Terushima.
"Oh!" Shirofuku said, pulling Misaki closer. "Yeah, that's true."
Ushijima didn't bat an eyelash as the whole table fell into a discussion about his sex life, or rather, lack of a sex life. He just calmly sipped at his drink and didn't give any input that would have helped solve the mystery. Even when Oikawa forced his strawberry cocktail on him to loosen his tongue a little, he didn't say anything except for a polite 'thank you', which would have pissed sober Oikawa off to no end, but just seemed to awaken drunk Oikawa's curiosity. Did Ushijima even have a sex drive?
A shrill voice suddenly drew his attention to a group of girls standing next to their table. To Oikawa's surprise, it was Futakuchi's date, climbing right onto Futakuchi's lap and shoving her tongue down his throat without so much as a warning. The three other girls she had brought along fell into a series of cheers and applause and “you go, Michi”s.
"I did it!" Futakuchi's date – Michi - yelled, once they parted, and Futakuchi looked like he was about to pass out from lack of air. "I kissed the lips that touched Oikawa Tooru's lips, and I have witnesses to prove it!"
"Oh!" said Oikawa, as Futakuchi groaned and Misaki commented on how his plan seemed to have backfired. "I didn't think that one through."
"Is it okay if we stay here?" Michi asked, fluttering her eyelashes at Oikawa. Since Futakuchi was still too out of it to answer her, Terushima took it upon himself to make Konoha slide up closer to Shirofuku and Misaki, so that there was one more free seat for the girls. Two of them decided to share it, and Michi was still sitting on Futakuchi, apparently not planning to move, but one of the girls was still left standing.
Oikawa, having a good heart and all, decided to help her out.
"Don't spook now, Ushiwaka-chan, I'm just going with the trend here," he said, climbing onto Ushijima's lap in a much touchier way than would have been necessary. After all, this was the perfect opportunity to find out if Ushijima had a sex drive. Making him pop a boner would be even better than to see him run out of the club. It was the perfect revenge. And it seemed to work - Ushijima froze as soon as Oikawa's butt touched him, and his hand gripped around his cocktail so tightly, it seemed like the glass would shatter any minute.
"Relax!" Oikawa grinned. "It's just a booty, it's not gonna eat you!"
His friends all watched them with barely suppressed grins, and Oikawa playfully wriggled his butt a little.
"Please don't do that," Ushijima ground out, and Oikawa was just about to give a triumphant whoop, when Ushijima said: "It hurts. You're a little bony."
Not even Oikawa's drunken haze could take this kind of insult.
"Are you saying that I have a bony ass?" he shrieked, turning around to give Ushijima a death glare. "Do you have any idea what most people would give to have my ass on their laps?"
"You can sit on me, if you want," one of the girls offered almost shyly.
"See?" Oikawa huffed, not even looking at the girl. "I could sit on her!"
"Yes, I see," said Ushijima.
"So what, you want me to go and sit on her?"
"I don't think she could take your weight."
Shirofuku and Misaki both broke out into a laughing fit while Oikawa spluttered from sheer outrage.
"What now?" he shrieked. "Am I bony or fat? Make up your damn mind!"
Ushijima had his usual look of awkward confusion, as if he didn't understand what he had done wrong now. "I didn't mean it like that," he explained, looking utterly helpless. "I don't mind you sitting on me. And your body is perfect, so-"
"That's right!" Oikawa interrupted, leaning back into Ushijima with a huff. "Perfect - you all heard that, right?"
"Sure," the others said, still grinning at the scene. Well - they could grin all they wanted, Oikawa liked being the center of attention, so he was more than happy to be grinned at.
“Finally you're saying sensible things, Ushiwaka-chan. Next you should tell me that I'm beautiful.”
Ushijima's confusion was still blatantly written all over his face.
“But you already know that you're beautiful,” he said, looking at Shirofuku and Misaki for help, but both of them just giggled. “I don't see why you need to be reminded so often.”
“I'll gladly remind you as often as you want,” Michi suddenly cut in. One of her hands had strayed onto Oikawa's thigh, and he quickly shook it off, annoyed that she dared to interrupt a conversation in which Ushijima was forced to compliment his looks.
“Ah, ah – no touching while you're sitting in Futa-chan's lap – I may dislike him right now, but I'm still very protective of him,” he said, to which the girls just aaawed and ooohed, as if he had once again proven his white knight status.
“One day, I'm going to kill you,” said Futakuchi.
“I have long since come to terms with the fact that I will be murdered by a jealous guy who can't deal with my beauty and fame,” Oikawa retorted easily. He enjoyed getting on Futakuchi's nerves, because Futakuchi blushed with rage oh so prettily. In moments like these, he almost understood what Yahaba saw in the guy.
“I don't think you will be murdered.”
Oikawa almost didn't realize that the words had come from Ushijima – it was the first time this evening Ushijima had spoken out of his own volition instead of just answering the questions thrown at him. He seemed to have relaxed a little – the muscles in his thighs were no longer tensed up, and the grip around his glass had loosened. Oikawa automatically sunk into him, much more comfortable than before.
“Oh?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow in the most annoying way he could muster. “You've already contemplated about my death?”
“Not particularly,” Ushijima said. He didn't elaborate further, but emptied his glass with one, long gulp. Only when he noticed that no one had started talking again and everyone was still looking at him, did he think to explain his sudden interest in the conversation. “You don't look after yourself. You have no estimate over how much your body can take. If you don't have someone to stop you, you will simply... go too far.”
Oikawa was faintly aware that his mouth was hanging open, and he turned around to his friends to gape at them.
“Did I just hear right? Is Ushijima Wakatoshi seriously telling me that I'm overworking myself? I think I need another drink.”
He reached for something the girls had brought along, but was stopped by Ushijima's hand snatching his wrist.
“I don't just mean sports,” Ushijima said. “You like to go overboard with everything. Including this.”
Oikawa looked at his own outstretched hand, ready to take the cocktail glass on the table and Ushijima's bigger hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping him - and the anger finally managed to break through the wall of alcohol-induced cheerfulness. He turned around, pinning Ushijima with a glare which made the grip around his wrist instantly loosen up. Ushijima recoiled, head almost colliding with the wall behind him.
“Don't you dare,” Oikawa growled, his now free hand punching into the wall next to Ushijima's head. “Don't you fucking dare trying to tell me how to live my life.”
Ushijima just stared at him, his face unmoving, as Oikawa shifted in his lap to straddle him, his other hand coming up to cage Ushijima's head and forcing him to look at Oikawa's face.
“Why do you even try to psychoanalyze people when you're so bad at it?” he spat. He was too angry to care about everyone watching, and he was too angry to play this game fairly, so he slid up against Ushijima, until he could feel an unexpected hardness pushing against his pants. Ushijima, who had so far kept a stony, unblinking expression, finally closed his eyes in defeat.
“You wanna know how it feels to be psychoanalyzed? Because I'll show you,” Oikawa said, leaning in closer to whisper in Ushijima's ear so no one else could hear what he was saying. “I know that you wanna fuck me,” he whispered. Ushijima's hand, which had somehow landed on Oikawa's thigh to push him off, gave an involuntary twitch. “I've known it for a while,” he lied. “It's written in your eyes, every time you look at me.”
Only now that he thought about it did he realize that it was the truth. Five minutes ago, he had been wondering if Ushijima even had a sex drive. Now, with Ushijima's boner pushing so clearly against his thigh, Oikawa didn't understand how he had never seen it.
“You've wanted to fuck me since high school. You never actually cared about playing on the same team as me. All you wanted was to ogle me in the showers after a game. Don't try to deny it – I always noticed your staring. It's super creepy. And you know what? I'm disgusted. You disgust me. I would never - never sleep with you. Do you understand? I could get up right now and expose you to everyone sitting here. And I know that only turns you on even more, you sick, perverted bastard.”
“Cut it out, Oikawa!”
Misaki was the one putting her fist down – she always was. Her time as a manager for Johzenji must have made her used to handling boys who liked to cross lines. Oikawa leaned back out of Ushijima's space to throw her a fake grin over his shoulders.
“What? I'm not doing anything,” he said innocently.
“We can see him trembling from over here,” said Shirofuku. “And we just managed to coax him into going out with us. So don't ruin this now, we actually like Ushijima, you know?”
“Better than you anyway,” Misaki added.
Oikawa turned around on Ushijima's lap with a huff – he noticed that Ushijima's thighs were tense again. Maybe he expected Oikawa to get up and expose his boner. There was a rush of power adding to the alcohol in Oikawa's veins, and he suddenly felt drunk again.
“So what?” Oikawa waved a hand as if to chase away an annoying fly. “You're lesbians, so your opinions on men don't count.”
Misaki looked like she was this close to throwing her cocktail in Oikawa's face.
“Besides,” Oikawa said, leaning back against Ushijima to ruffle his hair. “Other people pay a lot of money to get such a thorough psycho-analysis.”
It was almost too quiet to hear when Ushijima talked again.
“You're wrong,” he said. Oikawa didn't look at him, just cocked an eyebrow again as if to show his friends that he couldn't wait for what came out of Ushijima's mouth next.
“I always wanted to play volleyball with you. There's nothing I enjoy more.”
“Yeah,” said Oikawa, finally reaching for the girl's cocktail that stood still untouched on the table. “I'm gonna have this now.”
He emptied the glass with one big gulp, enjoying the way Ushijima's fingers dug into his thighs, not daring to stop him again. After, he leaned over the table, towards the girl he had stolen the cocktail from, and kissed her square on the lips as thanks.
Terushima and Konoha both whooped, and the four girls all screeched, but the rest of Oikawa's friends rolled their eyes with a groan.
“You're the worst,” Misaki said, pulling a bottle of water out of her purse to offer the girl Oikawa had kissed. “Gurgle this to get the taste off.”
“Are you crazy?” the girl said. “I'm never brushing my teeth again!”
Misaki pulled a face, but didn't say anything more, except for an exasperated, “Straights!” under her breath.
“You don't have to be jealous, Misa-chan,” Oikawa grinned. “I will kiss you, too.”
“Fuck off,” said Shirofuku.
“In fact, I will kiss everyone at this table,” he announced, his arms thrown up in the air. “Every single one of you people I would kiss – except for this big, stupid oaf right here.” He turned around to catch Ushijima's face in a painful grip, and leaned in so close that his breath brushed Ushijima's lips. “I would never kiss you. And you know why? Because I hate you.”
“Okay!” said Futakuchi, who seemed to finally have gotten his voice back. “Would you please stop bullying poor Ushijima? What is your problem anyway?”
“Yeah, you're... kind of different with him here,” Konoha agreed. “Aren't you playing on the same team? I thought you were... I don't know. Friends?”
“HA!” Oikawa yelled, as if Konoha had just made the best joke he'd ever heard.
“Dude, you're scary,” said Konoha.
“We are enemies, okay? Just because we're forced to play on the same team doesn't change that. Besides, playing with Ushijima is boring. I've never been this bored with volleyball before. He's a dictator on the court, and I hate playing with someone like that. Everything always has to revolve around him. It's bullshit, and it's boring.”
Oikawa took a deep breath, expecting someone to yell a good-natured insult back at him, but the moment he looked around the table and saw everyone, including Michi and her friends, just staring at him in silent horror, he knew he had gone too far. He had taken every light, teasing undertone out of the conversation and accidentally blurted out his real feelings.
Everyone was quiet for a few more seconds, then Misaki said: “Get out!”
“I'm...” Oikawa started, but she didn't let him finish.
“Get out of here. Go home, sleep away all the alcohol and tomorrow morning, when you hopefully feel like you've been run over by a truck, you will call Ushijima, and you will apologize.”
Oikawa silently stared at her, waiting for her to change her mind.
“I mean it,” she said, sounding like she really did mean it. “Until you apologized for real, none of us will ever talk to you again.”
“Yeah, man,” Terushima agreed. “That really wasn't cool.”
Alright, fuck. If even Terushima thought he was behaving like an asshole, Misaki probably had a point. Still, Oikawa did not like being made to look stupid in front of strangers. He glared at all of them individually, and when no one cracked, he gave a huff.
“Whatever,” he said. “This was getting ridiculous anyway. So, move! Let me get out of here. I have things to do.”
The people on his side of the booth all awkwardly slid out of their seats one after the other, until Oikawa was able to squeeze out. He didn't look back at Ushijima. Now that he was back on his own feet, he realized that he was barely able to stand up straight.
He lifted a hand in goodbye before he stumbled away.
The crowd held him upright, more or less, helping him get to the bar, where he ordered a coke. There was no point in more alcohol – Ushijima had managed to ruin even that. Besides, his throat was burning from thirst. He was faintly aware of random people coming up to him, trying to talk, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to really register them. With his coke in hand, he went to look for a place he could hide and calm down.
He ended up in a different room than the one with the bar in it. The club consisted of three rooms; one with a bar, one with a dance-floor, and one with a billiard table, some dart boards and a few rancid sofas. Most people were on the dance-floor right now, so Oikawa found a whole sofa just for himself, and let himself sink down in it, hoping that people would just leave him alone for once.
Of course, it didn't take long for a body to plop down next to him.
“Please go away,” Oikawa said without looking up. He really wasn't in the mood to socialize right now, but he wouldn't let that asshole Ushijima ruin his night out. Maybe after half an hour of moping, he would be fine again.
“You don't own this sofa, jackass,” the person next to him said. Oikawa recognized Futakuchi's voice instantly.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“I want to annoy you to death, now that I don't have a date to concentrate on anymore,” Futakuchi said, taking the coke out of Oikawa's hand to drink the last few drops. Oikawa didn't react to any of his antics, until Futakuchi lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Cheer up, man. This is painful to look at.”
“Why don't you go mind your own business?” Oikawa spat. “Or is everyone's new best friend Ushijima not able to hold your interest for longer than a few minutes?”
“Damn,” said Futakuchi. “You really have a chip on your shoulder about him, huh?”
“I just think it's funny how he can blurt out everything he's thinking, no matter how mean it is – but as soon as the tables are turned on him, it's all, 'Poor Ushijima, how dare anyone say the truth about our golden ace?' Boo hoo!”
Futakuchi just stared at him in silence for a moment, before he groaned.
“You know what? I really didn't come here to try and tackle whatever weird kind of sexual tension the two of you are battling right now. You can go pay a therapist for that.”
Oikawa already regretted his decision to not buy more alcohol.
“Then what did you come here for?” he asked.
“I already told you. To annoy you.”
“Well congratulations, you're doing an amazing job of it.” Oikawa snatched his empty glass back and pushed it against his nape to cool down. It was way too hot in this stupid club. Maybe that was why no one here looked good in Oikawa's eyes – they were all sweaty and gross and not worth being kissed by Oikawa's perfectly balmed lips.
Damn, he just really wanted to meet someone nice.
"So..." Futakuchi suddenly leaned back into the sofa, faking comfort. It was way too obvious. Oikawa was sure that he was just about to find out the real reason why Futakuchi had come after him - and chose to sit next to him in the booth. Futakuchi opened his mouth, closed it again, and stared off into space. Then, finally: "Yahaba talked to you, huh?"
Of course it was about Yahaba. Oikawa didn't bother to swallow his snort.
"Are you trying to make me talk about your failing love life right after you told me to go see a therapist?"
Futakuchi pulled a grimace, but he didn't say anything to defend himself.
"You sure are lucky that I like Yahaba so much," Oikawa huffed. "He's one of the people I really want to be happy."
"So what did he say to you?"
"Nothing," said Oikawa. "I just... like to keep an eye on the people I like. And it's unmistakable what's happening between the two of you. My dorm is right next to his, after all."
Futakuchi blushed that pretty shade of red that looked so good on him, and Oikawa's mood suddenly got lighter.
"It's quite impressive that you can make him mewl, by the way."
"Oh my God!" Futakuchi buried his face in his hands again. "Please shut up."
"Five seconds ago you were begging me to talk."
"And now I'm begging you to shut up."
"Well, I won't," Oikawa said. "Because you need to hear what I'm about to say."
The smile on Oikawa's face never wavered as he leaned in to stare at Futakuchi unblinking. But he pushed the good mood somewhere far away in his brain. Futakuchi had to know that he was not joking about this.
"Yahaba is a good guy. He doesn't care that you're having trouble figuring out your sexuality. He'd give you all the time in the world and he'd respect your decision, even if it hurts him. Me? I'm an asshole. I'm bitter and petty, and if I ever see him making those sad dog eyes at you and your current flavor of the week across the campus cafeteria again, I will hunt you down and kick your ass to the moon. So you better stop giving him false hope, because if you can't suppress the need to stick your dick in a guy's ass, there are a million different apps you can use to find a dirty one night stand in your area. You don't have to use the one guy who actually likes you for that. Are we clear?"
Futakuchi looked like Oikawa had just verbally punched every breath out of him.
"Fuck," he said, finally. "You can be really scary, do you know that?"
"I asked if we're clear," Oikawa said.
"Yeah. Crystal."
"Good." Oikawa threw an arm around Futakuchi's shoulder and ruffled his hair with one hand. "I'm glad you understand."
"I do. You're right, I'm being an asshole."
It sounded like there was a 'but' coming, and one second later, Oikawa was proven right.
"But you know what? I just figured out what the difference is between you and Ushijima," Futakuchi said, looking somewhere behind Oikawa. Turning around, Oikawa noticed Ushijima awkwardly standing next to Terushima and Konoha, who were making out against the billiard table. Ushijima was trying hard not to watch them, instead busying himself with rolling the yellow ball back and forth between his hands. Oikawa had to close his eyes upon the pathetic sight.
"Enlighten me," he sighed, when Futakuchi didn't elaborate.
"You're right about Ushijima unthinkingly blurting out harsh truths. But he never does it to hurt people on purpose. Because unlike you, he's not an asshole."
Futakuchi got up from the couch, fishing for his cell phone and waving it about. "Now, if you'll excuse me - I need to make a call."
"Yeah," Oikawa said, waving him away. "Good luck."
"To you, too."
After Futakuchi was gone, Oikawa quickly spread out on the sofa so no one else would sit next to him. The room was starting to fill with people who were looking for a free surface to make out against. The sofas were a popular choice, obviously, but Oikawa would fight for his seat. His thoughts ran oddly clear, despite the whirlpools before his eyes. He just wanted to lie down for a bit and think of nothing.
Thinking of nothing didn't work, so he decided to give up the sofa after all. Maybe with more alcohol in his system, he would finally have fun again, so he went back into the room with the bar and got an okay-looking blond guy to buy him another cocktail. He only contemplated making out with him for a second before he "accidentally" lost the guy in the crowd again. When he stumbled back into the sofa-room, he realized that he was holding two cocktails - the guy had bought one for himself, too, and Oikawa had unthinkingly snatched it.
Oh well, nothing he could do about it now.
Besides. There was someone who could need the drink more than okay-looking blond dude.
"Hey," Oikawa said. To his chagrin, Ushijima was not the only one looking up. Konoha and Terushima had also recognized his voice and interrupted their make-out-session to curiously stare at him. Oikawa decided to ignore them.
"I bought you a drink," he said, pushing the less colorful cocktail into Ushijima's hands. "So you can stop looking like a kicked puppy now."
"Uhm..." was all Ushijima could say before Terushima gave a loud whoop.
"Damn, Ushijima - you actually got Oikawa to buy you a drink, that's like... that's like a marriage proposal!"
"Yeah, actually I stole the drink," Oikawa said. He didn't want Ushijima to think this was something like a marriage proposal. Ushijima was too literal - he would probably take it seriously.
"On accident," he said, when Ushijima gave him a look. "In any case, I decided to give it to you, so are you thankful or not?"
"I understand," Ushijima said, taking a careful sip from the drink. "It's sweet. I like it."
"Okay then, we're good." Oikawa ignored the snort his words awakened in Konoha and Terushima.
"We are as we always are," Ushijima said. "There is no need for you to apologize. I already knew that you hate me. You have never lied about that."
"I'm not... I don't..." Oikawa pressed his eyes closed again, feeling a headache coming. He could still hear Konoha and Terushima cackling.
"Man, you're awful at this," Konoha commented. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Just say that you're sorry!"
"And then what?" Oikawa snapped. "Me saying sorry won't save him from being a big awkward oaf, now will it? So!" He looked back at Ushijima, who had not reacted to the insult in any way. "I will give you something better. Something you can actually use. I'll get you laid."
"Hear, hear!" Terushima whooped again, while Konoha spluttered with laughter.
"Thank you, but-" Ushijima started. Oikawa quickly muted him by pushing a finger against his lips.
"After all, you need to get over me, and quickly," he whispered so that Terushima and Konoha wouldn't hear. "Don't you agree?"
Ushijima didn't look like he agreed at all, but he gave up arguing and settled for taking a big gulp from his drink.
"There, that's better," Oikawa said. He couldn't help looking a bit smug. Getting Ushijima laid shouldn't be that hard. For reasons unknown to Oikawa, Ushijima had quite the fan-club himself. It existed more out of politeness because Ushijima happened to be the ace of the volleyball team, and it would give their university a bad image if the ace didn't have any fans. Besides, there were always groupies chasing after the strongest guys, no matter how oafish they looked.
The secret to Ushijima's effect on people had to be his brutish power.
"Okay," Oikawa said, nodding at his own ingenuity. "First of all, we need to establish you as the most powerful man in this room."
"How drunk are you?" Konoha snorted. "This is not the stone age."
"Believe me, for some of these people, it might as well be." Oikawa looked around the room, trying to come up with a plan. He couldn't just have Ushijima start a brawl in here, no matter how much fun it would be. "So..." he hummed. "How does one establish oneself as the most powerful?"
"The most powerful are those who win," Ushijima explained in his usual cavemannish way. For once, it was an actual helpful comment.
"Of course!" Oikawa beamed. "And we just happen to be in the game room, too! Now..." He stared down at the billiard table, on which Terushima and Konoha were still lying, and made a face. "Well, not billiard. That thing is forever tainted. But how about a nice game of darts?"
"Who will I play against?" Ushijima asked, already walking over to the dart board. A bunch of darts were sticking out of it and he pulled them out with enough force to bend them.
Of course he would be a brute about this. Oikawa gave an exasperated sigh, but no one was paying attention to him anymore, so he skipped towards Ushijima and took the darts from him to straighten them.
"I'll be your opponent, of course," he said. "And don't think I'll just let you win that easily. I can make you get laid in more ways than just one, so if you lose against me, you'll have to pay with something you wouldn't usually do."
"What's that?" asked Ushijima.
"Dance."
"Oh."
Oikawa smirked when he saw Ushijima's face drop. Of course he thought that Oikawa just wanted him to embarrass himself, but honestly - Ushijima didn't need any help for that. The truth was that Oikawa could make anyone look sexy by dancing with them - he just had that effect. Ushijima wouldn't have to do anything but stand there like a log and he'd still have loads of people lining up to proposition him after they saw him dance with Oikawa Tooru.
But first, they'd do it Ushijima's way.
"Do you know how to play?" Oikawa asked.
"The rules are written on this tiny plaque," Ushijima said.
Oikawa pushed three darts into Ushijima's hands with a frown. "Do you somehow suffer from a disability that keeps you from answering questions like a normal person?”
"I don't think a disability like that exists."
"Oh my God!" Oikawa opened his palm and waited for Ushijima to drop a few coins in it to waken the sleeping machine. It beeped and flashed for a while, then it displayed a welcome screen and asked them to choose a game.
"Two people, oh-one, starting from 401, does that sound alright?" Oikawa asked, already pushing the buttons.
"Sure."
"Good." Oikawa went back to the throwing line where Ushijima had positioned himself. "Well then, I'm curious. Show me what you've got."
Ushijima held the dart between two fingers, pushed one eye closed, concentrating for a few seconds before he suddenly catapulted the dart towards the board. The result was a 'pang' so loud it should not have been able to come from a single plastic dart. Ushijima probably could have killed someone with it, especially since it didn't land anywhere near the board. It took a few seconds until Oikawa realized there was no dart sticking out of the board and a bubble of laughter suddenly burst from his mouth.
"Holy shit, Ushiwaka!" he howled, holding his belly to emphasize the ridiculousness. "What the fuck was that?"
"I don't understand," said Ushijima. He was still looking at the board, as if the dart would materialize on it any second. "I used all the power I had."
"This is not about sheer power, it's about focus! Obviously a brute like you wouldn't understand." Oikawa gave a pronounced sigh as he took the remaining darts from Ushijima's hands. He enjoyed the moment more than he probably should – it wasn't every day that he got to lecture Ushijima in front of everyone.
“Here...” Oikawa took Ushijima's left hand and pushed it open, so his palm pointed upwards. “You need to hold it like this!” Making sure that the dart was properly balanced, Oikawa rolled it up to Ushijima's fingertips and made him close his hand around it. “Firm, but flexible. You understand? And you need to throw from your wrist and elbow, not from the shoulder. You're not spiking a volleyball here, idiot!”
Ushijima's arm was oddly pliant to Oikawa's touch, bending to his will without resistance. “Like this – from the elbow, up and down. It's not that hard, really. Also, you don't need to use all of your power! Enough to make the dart stick to the board, not drill a hole into it. And watch your stance, you damn log!”
It was fun to arrange Ushijima like a poseable doll, mostly because Oikawa hadn't expected him to take critique, let alone be pushed around like this. “Left foot forward!” he ordered, kicking at Ushijima's left foot. “You need to lean all of your weight on it – the other foot is just for balance. Lean forward, come on!”
Ushijima did as he was told, and Oikawa focused on getting his arm in the right position again. Finally, he was satisfied with the result. “Yeah – just like this. Now, you throw!”
Nothing happened, except for the dart slowly slipping from Ushijima's weak grip on it, and Oikawa looked up only to notice that Ushijima was staring at him.
“You need to watch the board!” he groaned. At least that finally woke Ushijima from his daze, and he was able to catch the dart right before it fell from his hand.
“I...” he muttered, obviously at a loss for something to say. “I'm sorry. I'm just... I think I'm very drunk.”
Oikawa glared at him, trying his hardest to look pissed off, but he didn't manage for long. A laugh pushed itself out of his closed lips, and he bent over to hold his belly again. “Oh man!” he wheezed, clapping Ushijima's back. “So am I. So am I!”
Ushijima let the hand with the dart in it sink down to his side – he was obviously not going to throw it anytime soon, so Oikawa took it from him and pushed him out of the way with his hips.
“I'll show you how it's done,” he said.
Honestly, he was not the best dart player in the world, but at least he hit the board more times than not. He had chosen this game so Ushijima would win it. How should he have known that Ushijima had no talents outside of volleyball and being a pain in the ass?
Oikawa threw the darts one after the other, each of them sticking to the board – which was a feat in and of itself, seeing as the board was duplicating itself in front of his eyes. Also, he hadn't played darts in forever. Ushijima looked at him with real admiration, even though the final score was average at best, and Oikawa grinned as if he'd just won the world cup.
“There – you see that?”
“I'm impressed,” said Ushijima, in a beautiful demonstration of his ability to be a pain in the ass. Couldn't he be a little bitter and plagued by an inferiority complex just once? But no, instead he looked at the board and said: “We messed up the rating system. But I would have lost either way, so I accept the punishment.”
“Huh?”
Oikawa had already forgotten about what he said would happen if Ushijima lost.
“The dancing,” said Ushijima, turning to him with a somber expression. “I will do the dancing with you.”
“Oh!” said Oikawa – he had been ready to protest, because now that he knew how bad Ushijima was at playing darts, he was suddenly having a lot more fun with the game. However, there was one thing where the difference in their abilities was even greater, and Ushijima had just offered to let him show that to everyone. Plus, dancing was a lot easier to do when drunk than throwing pointy things in a room full of people.
“Yeah... right! The dancing.” Oikawa couldn't keep the grin from his face, and he didn't try very hard either. “You're absolutely right. You're abysmal at this, so we might as well skip right to the fun part.”
Ushijima didn't protest when Oikawa took him by the arm to drag him out of the room. The ongoing game of darts they left behind was immediately taken over by some lurking nerds who were too ugly or too sober to get with someone this late into the night. Ushijima wasn't all too light on his feet while they were walking out of the room, so Oikawa doubted that his dancing would be anything but catastrophic. The alcohol probably played a part in Ushijima's elephantine movements, but his sober dancing shouldn't be much better to look at.
He couldn't wait to get started.