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#i seem to have fallen back into old habits....rarepairs
the-vegetarian-artist · 6 months
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Gay Gay Homosexual Gay-
I finished my rewatch of 87
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goshiyachi · 7 years
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Sipping on emotions
Fandom: Haikyuu!! Pairing: Oikawa Tooru/Miya Atsumu Summary: Oikawa couldn’t help but sink deeper and relishing on the high of falling in love. Prompts Used: Flight, Firsts, Kygo & Ellie Goulding “First Time” @volleyball-rarepair-week
Or read on Ao3.
It was petty to sneer, but it felt so good.
With everything said and done, it was gratifying to have that kind of privilege after winning the battle. It was like a badge of honor for Oikawa to be able to showcase his victory. He had always been addicted to having a winning streak whether it was through trivia, academics or within athletic purposes. There was just something about winning a debate or a game that made Oikawa smile, he knew it was a bad habit of being happy over something like that but, he honestly couldn’t help that kind of impulsive reaction. But then, why did God make it feel so satisfying in the first place then if it was so wrong?
He always appreciated the type of people that didn’t mind him and his gloating (since they tended to have the same disease as him of being overly competitive).
It was simpler to be occupied by a sea of others that understood his language and style. That and because, he could continue with his silly arguments and never feel too paranoid on stepping on landmines that would jeopardize him of losing people from his inner circle. It wasn’t foul proof but, with his kind of charms and flexibility to live it made it possible for him to roam and create a place to freely discuss and enjoy himself well enough.
Maybe that was why he liked how he met Miya Atsumu before beginning college. (A week prior to be exact.) The new spring semester was a colossal dynamic that it made him want to settle into his new environment earlier and assess his new chapter before it would get cluttered by the end of the year. He met Miya in a passive tempo of carrying some his boxes while listening to the hallway of his apartment’s level hum of multiple lives being jumbled together. It wasn’t as claustrophobic or overbearingly loud as he made it sound but, it made him aware of the new flavors he would encounter if he lingered in the hallways long enough.
Miya was in that mix; with his bleached hair standing out a little from the sun glares that casted into Oikawa’s vision, his eyes were mischievous enough to make him drag the second longer than necessary (he could feel a small smirk form in the back of his mind in curiosity). He was a pretty boy like Oikawa, he granted that with first impressions. The way he glided in the hallway made it easier to conclude that he was associated with some type of an athletic hobby or job. They didn’t speak or introduced themselves then.
Or the second and third day.
Before he knew Miya’s name, Oikawa dubbed him as the cocky pretty boy. (In hindsight, it wasn’t the most creative nickname but, it did its job.) Each time they passed each other Oikawa held his breath and squared his shoulders. In a minimal tone, he studied him, because there was tipping point of his curiosity for him. He felt like the type of person that lived in a similar fashion of loving to conquer everything and anything.
It was on the fifth day when they officially introduced themselves, Oikawa was coming back from his morning jog. Making his way to his level he felt another pair of eyes watching from behind. It was an intensity he was familiar with when he played volleyball or when there was a fangirl that wanted to confess to him. He didn’t change his pace of walking, but made himself relax as he heard another pair of shoes walking almost side by side. He checked his phone and lowered the volume of his current playlist playing when he caught Miya’s mouth opening and looking at his direction.
It was a straightforward conversation that Oikawa was used to from past cocky volleyball players, there were under layered challenges that made him steel his own words. Neither one of them were out right nasty to each other, but it was plain to see that Oikawa remembered seeing his face somewhere and apparently, Miya felt the same. It was the start of them bustling through the quiet exchanges of winning admires from a distance and the louder ones when they raced in their morning jogs, or when played against each with their separate volleyball teams. Competitiveness between them was the stepping stone for the both of them to continue on learning more about each other, and it was the perfect excuse for Oikawa himself to seek his own personal enjoyments when he won. It was a sweet kind of victory when he became accustomed to seeing Miya give him a special type of attention only reserved for him.
He was vain, Oikawa could admit that. But so was Miya. (It was almost like it was destined for them to cross paths at one point.) They both posed the same type of drive to be the incarnation of perfection. With the way life was handling them Oikawa couldn’t help but be overjoyed by time that was given to him to study Miya Atsumu.
The vantage point of witnessing Miya smile genuinely was unintentional.
They were lounging in Oikawa’s living room watching some old rerun cartoon from their childhood. It had been three months of slow edges of their words teasing more openly. As if they didn’t care of the world catching a glimpse of cheerful banters that borderline flirtations. It was slipping and swooning like water droplets; Oikawa noticed the way Miya glanced at him. (He was sure Miya noticed his too.) They had become more acute to each other’s habits and personal walls. Secrets had been shared in the late-night texting and the few times Oikawa allowed Miya to sleep on his couch after drunkenly misplacing his own keys.
Miya was the first to crack a real smile, his face radiated from old unspoken dreams coming into light. His voice was a murmur in the dark, they had been eating junk food and wasting time talking about old stories from their youth. It was weird how Oikawa’s state of mind was blinking and refocusing on Miya’s shift in tone as the story continued. (Like his gut was telling him something was going to happen.) Half his mind was recalling the story with precise detail, the other was catching how Miya’s glow from the TV made it accentuate how tired he was from his team practice. As the seconds ticked; Oikawa noticed it.
It was faint but the atmosphere was changing. And then he heard it: his own heart floating above his rib cage, then soaring past his body in a phantom speed that left him momentarily breathless. Miya’s smile that was unlike the rest he was acquainted with made him grasp the situation. He had fallen. So deep, and far from his old presumptions. As he relapsed into the present he couldn’t help but sigh in defeat the way Miya’s eyes were twinkling at him. Iwaizumi was going to be annoyed (and most likely slap the back of his head) when he would visit him this upcoming week. But he would live.
“Tooru.” His voice was becoming a little slurred from the lack of sleep. “Tooru, I’m gonna crash on the couch again. I don’t think I can make it to the door.”
Listening to Miya complain about his twin brother was a normal rant, one that Oikawa could relate to. He had older siblings to compare with and a nephew he sometimes still baby sat on occasion. Meeting Osamu was a different matter after the revelation. They weren’t complete strangers, they had met briefly in the occasions Miya face timed him while Oikawa was in the background. There were enough stories that he heard about the other Miya brother but that didn’t give him the best representation to understand the other brother. But that was beside the point, before Oikawa was aware of this dimension of wanting Miya he hadn’t thought too much about meeting Miya’s close-knit family back then.
It would pose a problem that would give him insomnia when Miya told him off handling that his brother would come visit soon.
Like most siblings, they all had their quirks and system of coexisting. Miya was the flashier, selfish, vain and over competitive and sometimes pettier brother. Osamu was quieter (that it was harder to know what he was exactly thinking), he was a little bit of an ass but, when your twin was Miya, Oikawa had to guess that having thicker skin was a must. At first glance, there was a coldness that was casted between him and the brothers, as if he was intruding in their private turf. They shared memories and inside jokes that only they could describe and comprehend with each other.
A contrasting picture of the sun and moon was the mental visual he had as he went through the motion of talking to the Miya twins in his apartment. He didn’t bother shooing Miya when he opened his bedroom and saw him and Osamu eating his breakfast he made a few minutes ago. Oikawa had long given up going a mid-morning without Miya eating his food. They were just lucky that he expected this type of mooching when Miya’s brother would visit would incline to bring him over to his place. Making Oikawa prepare in advance to have enough groceries for the three of them that weekend.
Having Osamu watching him carefully and in the flesh, was different from the few skype and face time chats he was pushed into. His eyes were just as deadly as Miya’s, his voice was clipped and hinted boredom (or was it tiredness from Miya’s happier energy never seeming to quit?). When he spoke directly to him Oikawa was (a little) intimidated because he shared the same piercing voice pattern (the vocal ranged differed enough if someone personally knew the twins or was as observant as Oikawa). It felt like he could read Oikawa’s thoughts without a problem. He didn’t know what Osamu precisely saw but it was enough to make him paranoid when he was around him.
Which was why finding out that Osamu was granting Oikawa the privilege to court his brother was the last thing in his mind to happen. He thought becoming a fool for love wouldn’t make him forsake his capability to hide his heart’s matters. Turned out that nothing could bypass a Miya when they had sharp senses of these kinds of developments. Even with the blessing (that included Miya’s parents since he was like the middle man for these kinds of matters) nothing truly changed with his status with Miya.
Miya himself never said he was opposed to Oikawa kissing him (both during his abrupt drunken self and lament quiet sober person) but then again, he never started the trend to open that Box of Pandora.
It made it harder to decide the next course of action: to be the catalyst for a new tempo to dance in or, to pretend that his heart didn’t fly at the daydreams of Miya kissing him.
Oikawa becoming drunk at the same time as Miya was probably not the smartest move. They both got locked out of their apartments and had to camp outside the hallway. The walk to their tenant’s office the following hours was fuzzy, there was a small tension building up when they each got their respective “lost” keys back. Going inside Oikawa’s was faster, the curtains were half parted making his living room dark enough for their eyes to sting less. The hangovers were a pressing matter that Oikawa scarcely made an effort to object Miya following him back to his room. It was left unsaid when they woke up later in the afternoon that if one of them didn’t lose their key something would have snapped.
Nonetheless, Oikawa made breakfast (he didn’t care if it was 3pm) Miya ate half of it like usual and the world moved on without a care.
Becoming lovers was never a goal Oikawa thought he would accomplish. Sure, the kissing privileges appealed to him, and not having to overthink everything would sound good. But in all honesty, Oikawa preferred to sleep for thirty years after going through finals week. As the summer session was coming into the picture Oikawa couldn’t make himself believe that Miya was the first to confess with haste explanation and a kiss that burned his lips long after he was left alone when he didn’t respond fast enough.
He had many past relationships that were shambles. Only one he previously and naïvely thought he was in love (but really, he was happier about the theory than her). Miya was really his first love that he was invested in. With a sudden confession to a person who grew on the opposite side of the court he fought countless of times during his youth; Oikawa found it. A life and a possibility of having Miya become his home. As the sun’s rays were fading he walked back to their apartment complex, when he reached his level Miya was watching the day transition to night.
Minus the city noise and other people’s windows starting to glow there was a calmness among them that he couldn’t ignore.
He opened his mouth, he didn’t know what he said but it was loud enough to catch Miya off guard. They didn’t cry and hug dramatically like the movies, but they did walk inside to Oikawa’s couch and sat closer to each other than the yesterday. The following hours were swept under without a care, they familiarized themselves with the sudden new direction of where their hands and lips could roam now. They were comfortable to laugh when they fumbled and reap in the lightness of their happiness when they drifted into another day and week. It was a feverish race of living in a temporarily high of being first time lovers.
The world was theirs for the taking.
The colors seemed to mix, the vibrations of the city being constantly awake made Oikawa feel like he was in one of those cliché music video scenes of being a young and reckless boy. Miya was always by his side, hands holding his, or lips too close, hovering and teasing in the wide open. It was a blessing in disguise that neither of them knew how to drive a motorcycle because God knew the dumb shit they would attempt. The train rides were all they could do if they wanted to explore the deeper sets of the city. To get lost in all the colors and promise of adventure.
Being firmly placed into the realm of only lovers knew was a strange one. It was a place that felt infinite, it corresponded with a certain type of youth who went against the impossible without a care. A paradise that manifested itself into his heart and actions as he filled his social media with an endless trail of his time in love. It was a modern take of two people being consumed with new emotions, making them stagger as if drunk by life itself. Time was irrelevant then.
Oikawa just wanted to cherish the feeling of being powerful, admired and genuinely having a reason to breathe. Miya’s adoration may have been ticked by misplaced oddities and playful teases but, it rose above it as it progressed. He became what Oikawa once dreamed about; a constant in his life that created a happiness he never fully experienced yet. Treasuring this new part made him see how wondrous and random it really was. He could have gone to a different college, could have picked a different career or stayed behind in his sleepy suburban neighborhood.
There were so many other possibilities but in the end, Oikawa smiled at what was in front of him.
Sniffling, Oikawa trudged on as the fall semester was consuming his coffee intake. Miya had moved in with him by then, since there really was no reason for him to waste that much money on rent when he practically already lived with Oikawa for a long time. Osamu visited more often when Miya announced it on a random night. Oikawa by then was getting better at reading him to know he was happy for the both of them. He was still a stiff sarcastic guy but his humor was on point. (He really did love hearing all those embarrassing kid stories that Osamu provided for him.)
With happiness seeping out of his body Oikawa engulfed himself into this transition. College was a pain in the ass but with his friends and Miya around there was calmness that relaxed him by the end of each day. Love had always been one side of the coin that made him question its potent but, as he was summoned by its own accord he learned to accept its kindness and cruelty. Engraved into his soul Oikawa smiled wider with the simpler moments and loved every touch Miya gave him. It was easier to clasp this side.
His eyes were smoldering, Oikawa always loved it when the fire brew out.
They were in the middle of a volleyball match when Oikawa relished; he had the upper hand after winning a set. The newest battle was rasping into a long dance, with the ball being push, pulled and assaulted in the air. He felt his lips form his usual shit-eating grin and was pleased to see Miya openly glaring at him. It was game on. How couldn’t he when Miya was making it sweeter the way he made the game so much livelier. Each new ploy, decoy was making him hungrier to win.
He knew him so well, the way Miya sneaked in a fast attack when Oikawa soaked in the quick victory for a beat longer than it was necessary. He took a quick scan of the room, and then his teammates. They didn’t look too bothered rather, they were pumped from the challenge. The ball flew higher again, his fingers tingled; just as the first time he found his love for volleyball his face lit up brighter. His body moved into sync with his ace. He was alive; and he loved it.
The way the fire burned his body and watching him gain another point against Miya. As a fellow setter and observant boyfriend that he was, Oikawa flew higher. With the way, the game was going Oikawa laughed out loud, Miya from the other side chuckled. (He probably had an idea of what Oikawa was feeling like to understand.) He was scheming, the tide was rolling and the game could tip to his favor if Oikawa made a mistake. It was exciting to have Miya as his opponent.
“You’ve seen nothing yet, Tooru!”
He was cocky for good reasons, but Oikawa was always amped up to push the limit higher.
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