#iwamatsu

Oikawa: everyone?

Iwaizumi: especially you

Matsukawa: even me?

1. AngstYou can’t have Iwaizumi without Oikawa and he knows this just like you can’t have Mattsun without Makki but that doesn’t stop the surge of pain through his chest when he sees Oikawa leap onto Iwaizumi’s back with a laugh because he knows, oh he knows so, so well that there is no place in this wide universe for someone like him to be next to someone who shines as brilliantly as Iwaizumi does; not when Mattsun is a mere flickering candle compared to the starlight that Oikawa emits.

2. AUThey’re too far away from any reasonable place to stop by the time he realizes there’s a stowaway in the engine room and by the time Makki finally drags the man up to Hajime’s pilot seat the two of them are apparently the bestest of friends and he’s probably going to regret his decision but when the man introduces himself with a smile and eyes that glitter like the stars outside the ship he can’t help but simply welcome the man to the crew.

3. CrackIssei winces in sympathy as Hajime punches through the rock and he’s already got a healing spell at his fingertips before he registers that Hajime had punched through the rock like it was made of paper and upon closer inspection he realizes that it is.

4. Future ficAt twenty-nine he doesn’t move quite as smoothly as he did at nineteen but that doesn’t stop him from chasing after Hajime until they’re both out of breath - from the chase and from laughter - and collapsed together under the trees.

5. First TimeThey’ve held hands, cuddled up, hell they’ve even kissed multiple times over the last decade of friendship because sometimes you just gotta kiss your friends but none of that really seems to matter when he leans in for the first time and whispers against Issei’s skin just how damn much he loves the other man.

6. FluffThere were a hundred ways today should have ended badly - the most memorable of those being getting sprayed by sprinklers, chased by geese, getting thrown out of a flower shop, and literally running into Hajime’s mother - and yet as they sprawl out on a blanket and watch the clouds high above them Issei realizes that he really couldn’t have asked for a better day spent with the man he loves.

7. Humor“I can’t wait to hear this story,” Issei laughs as he takes in the leaves stuck in Hajime’s hair, the neon green shoe print on his left thigh, and the pout on Hajime’s face.

8. Hurt/ComfortA sprained wrist, a twisted ankle, a scraped knee, a black eye were all things he could help deal with without breaking a sweat had Issei come to him with them but this was a little outside of Hajime’s expertise; after all how the hell are you supposed to help heal a broken heart?

9. SmutHajime does not back down, does not bend easily to others but Issei isn’t just anyone and Hajime will happily bend and bow and stretch and twist to Issei’s whims, will let Issei press him into corners and lift him onto counters and pull him along until they’re both panting writhing messes.

It was the pounding on his door that finally pulled Hajime out of his peaceful slumber. Constant, insistent, loud pounding. He really hoped his neighbours weren’t home to hear the commotion. He made his way to the front door, not even a little shocked at finding a frazzled looking Issei on the other side.

“Boo, bitch,” Issei stated in greeting. Hajime didn’t let him in quite yet. He stared at Issei for a moment, choosing his next words carefully.

“Just by looking out the window,” Hajime said gruffly, voice still rough with sleep, “it’s dark, which means it’s too early to deal with your chaotic tendencies.”

“No, no. Hajime, look!” Issei held up his phone, open to a photo of a door. The words ‘Boo, bitch’ were scrawled along the front in big, block red letters. “I told you my house was haunted.” Again, Hajime chose to stare at the man in front of him, unsure as to how to proceed.

On the one hand, he could slam the door in Issei’s face and deal with his wrath later. On the other, he could let him in, talk him down, and crawl back into bed. Both options had pros and cons. It was the cons Hajime was currently weighing. With a sigh, he stepped aside and let Issei in.

“Are you sure it isn’t Sugawara playing a prank on you? That sounds like something he’d do.” Hajime didn’t know Sugawara too well, but anyone who made Tooru wary was enough to put his guard up.

“Oh, no no,” Issei shook his head. “Suga’s defiling Akaashi’s bed tonight.” Issei tapped at his phone and showed Hajime a text message from Sugawara explaining just that. “Hajime, I swear. It wasn’t any of my housemates. My house is legit haunted.” Hajime regarded him carefully, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the hoodie that looked like it’d been through an apocalypse.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked.

“Uh,” Issei started counting things out on his fingers, “about four days excluding the odd nap or six.” Hajime huffed a sigh and pulled Issei further into the house, dragging him by the hand to his bedroom.

“Change. Get under the covers. Go to sleep,” Hajime ordered, throwing a pair of worn-in sweats towards Issei’s face.

Once both men were tucked up in bed - Hajime being used as ‘the best pillow in the history of existence’ - it took mere moments for Issei to start breathing heavy with sleep.

The next morning, Hajime woke to an empty bed and something that smelled delicious cooking away in the kitchen.

“What’s all this?” Hajime had walked into a feast; toast, eggs, bacon, sausages, fresh coffee, and an assortment of fruits. And Issei looking hot as fuck in Hajime’s ancient Seijoh T-shirt.

“My apology,” Issei answerd, scooping up the last of the scrambled eggs onto a plate. He made quick work of arranging the other foods on two plates, and pouring fresh coffee. “It wasn’t Sugawara who wrote that on my door. It was me.” Issei looked at him sheepishly as Hajime tried to make sense of the words.

“You wrote ‘boo, bitch’ on your own bedroom door.”

“Yes. Yes I did. I remembered doing it when I woke up. But I don’t remember why. A headline, maybe?” Hajime burst out laughing, which surprised Issei into almost dropping his coffee cup.

Matsukawa: Amazing, I wish I could pull that off.

Iwaizumi: Go ahead.

Matsukawa: What?

The lights were blinding when Hajime opened his eyes, and he groaned, buried his face beneath a pillow. There was laughter, soft, rich, and a touch to his ankle that nearly drew his head back out from beneath the dark sanctuary. “Wake up, Hajime,” Issei sang, fingers skipping up his bare leg to lightly tickle the back of his knee. He grunted and gently kicked back at Issei. More laughter, the kind that left warmth pooling in his chest, even as Issei’s hand returned, creeping further up his leg. Issei’s hand darted forward, grabbed the waistband of his briefs, and snapped them against Hajime’s back.

Read on AO3