#oiten

Satori’s smile falters a little at that, unused to such a compliment, but it’s all the hesitation Tooru needs before he’s spinning around to the couple in the opposite line who’ve been giving them dirty looks since they walked in the door. Satori’s not sure if it’s because of the way they’re dressed (Satori in comfy sweats and a tattered hoodie and Tooru decked out in his tightest pants and crispest button-up), or if it’s because someone as hot as Tooru is practically clinging to someone like Satori. Either way, Satori has learned to ignore such looks, but Tooru hasn’t.

He’s not used to how judgmental and negative people can be just for how one looks. He’s never been ostracized or called dirty names for the way he dresses or for acting too weird in public. He’s always been a prim and proper sort of boy, someone who uses words to sort things out instead of hiding behind a hand. Satori doesn’t fault him for feeling protective and wanting to set things right; he just wishes it was warranted.

“It’s not like we ever even said anything,” the woman butts in, knowing Tooru is about to attack. Her voice is high and nasally, and it instantly grates on Satori’s nerves.

“You didn’t have to. Your face reads Judgmental Bitch to anyone looking at you.”

She sputters as a few chuckles rise around them. Her partner looks too stunned for words, and Satori takes that pause to tighten his grip around Tooru’s waist and draw him closer to his body, shutting him up momentarily.

“Listen,” Satori says lazily, hardly sparing them another look, “just keep your eyes on yourself and we won’t have any more problems, m’kay?” He ends it with a leer, and tugs Tooru down the line as they shuffle forwards. Some of the other customers give them appreciative glances, while others glare just as rudely as the couple. Tooru gives one more glare at the couple before huffing and facing forward, curling tighter around Satori.

Without any hassle they buy their popcorn and drinks, steering clear of the couple as they make their way to their designated theater. Tooru relaxes even further when the couple goes into a separate one.

“Happy now?” Satori asks as they enter the darkened room. Trailers haven’t started yet, so it’s eerily quiet in the wide-open space, especially since there are only two other groups in the room. They head for the back row, both happy to see it empty.

Tooru huffs, and Satori sees him shrugging. “I coulda said a few more things if you hadn’t stopped me.”

“Oh, I know,” Satori chuckles. He slides into the row first and heads towards the middle. “But then we’d probably have gotten kicked out and wouldn’t be able to see this movie we’ve both been waiting to see for ages and would have to wait until it’s available to stream or find a way to illegally download it and where’s the fun in that? Besides,” Satori kicks down his seat and plops in, draping one arm over the chair Tooru sits in, “you shouldn’t let people like them get to you. They’re a waste of everything.”

“I don’t know how you handle it,” Tooru mumbles. “It makes my skin crawl.”

Satori lowers his arm from the back of the seat to Tooru’s shoulders, drawing him closer so he can place a faint kiss at his boyfriend’s temple. “And that’s what makes you a better person than them and me.”

“Shut up,” Tooru mutters, swatting at Satori’s chest. “You know I think you’re great.”

“And that’s all that matters.”

Tooru just sighs and snuggles closer to Satori as the lights dim and the trailers start to roll.

Satori doesn’t know how he got this lucky. How someone as beautiful and loyal as Oikawa Tooru, an ex-volleyball player and all-around Good Guy, managed to fall in love with the batshit weirdness that is Tendou Satori, a college dropout and general waste of space. Even with the years between them, Satori still finds it hard to believe that Tooru loves him, that he’s willing to put time and effort into their relationship, despite the onlookers that speculate and judge whenever they’re out in public.

Like tonight. Satori knows his attire could have been less sloppy, but he likes to be comfortable when watching movies. And no matter where they go, Tooru likes to dress up for dates. Tooru doesn’t hate him for not putting more effort into his wardrobe, and that’s something Satori appreciates immensely. He also has no qualms about complimenting his boyfriend’s choice of clothes and how they make him look, since complimenting Tooru is one of his favorite things.

There’s so many things about Tooru that Satori considers his favorite that he has a little black box in pocket that’s burning a hole against his thigh. He’s carried it with him everywhere for the last year, unsure of when he wanted to pop the question or if it’s something he should even ask. He’s still not even sure if Tooru’s birthday is a good time to propose, not even sure if it’s something his boyfriend would want to happen. The subject has come up sparingly, and even though Satori wishes he could say there’s no way Tooru would reject him, this is one guess he’s loath to make.

Satori loves Tooru and would take whatever Tooru is willing to give. Marriage isn’t the end all be all of a relationship. They’ve been happy and content without this label, so there’s really no reason why Satori has to take this next step.

He doesn’t pay much attention to the movie, as his mind continues to wander towards what’s supposed to come after. He promised Tooru a movie and a surprise, and they both know Tooru doesn’t like surprises. He can’t help it when his palms start to sweat and he has to pull away from his boyfriend on more than one occasion so he can feel like he can breathe again, pointedly ignoring the tiny looks of concern Tooru throws at him each time he does it.

By the end of the movie, though, Satori can feel Tooru’s anger radiating off him. He doesn’t even wait for the lights to turn back on before he’s springing out of his chair and moving down the aisle, attempting to escape the theater quickly.

Satori can’t even run after him like he knows he should. He just sits there, ignoring the way the lights aren’t coming back on, and a post-credit scene rolls. All he can focus on is Tooru’s retreating figure and the pounding of his heart, not sure what the hell he’s supposed to do.

Eventually, he’s kicked out long after the lights have come back on and the theater attendant needs to prepare it for the next showing. Satori walks slowly towards their parked car, his heart racing a mile a minute as he sees it’s actually still parked here and not long gone.

Tooru is leaning against the passenger side door, his foot tapping wildly with his arms crossed over his chest. He catches sight of Satori approaching, but turns away and ignores him. Satori knows that’s acceptable, knowing he deserves the anger that’s brewing from his boyfriend.

He unlocks the car slowly, belatedly realizing that’s why the car and Tooru are still here because Satori had the keys, and gets in the driver’s seat. Tooru makes his entrance loud, making it clear he’s unhappy.

But Satori doesn’t start the car. He doesn’t want to fight, doesn’t want to drag this out any longer. If for some reason in his anger, or just in his heart, Tooru rejects his proposal, then Satori can hand him the keys and he’ll walk--somewhere. He’ll give Tooru the night to cool off and they could discuss things further tomorrow--

“Will you just tell me what's wrong with you already?” Tooru demands.

Satori blinks and turns to stare at Tooru. He does look angry, rightfully so, but there’s hurt there too. Confusion and worry are dancing behind it all, and Satori hates himself a little more for putting it there.

He sucks in a breath, knowing it’s now or never and not wanting to drag this out any longer. Without saying anything he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the box, offering it to Tooru.

“I was getting nervous,” Satori starts, not really liking the way Tooru’s face closed off at the sight of the box, how he’s not even breathing, it seems. “I wanted it to be perfect, to be romantic, but then I started over-thinking and now you’re pissed and it’s not really the best time or maybe even the best idea and I can see your answer already and I’m sorry, I’m sorry if this isn’t something you want. I can--I can take it back or, or something. I’ll--I’ll, I don’t know, I’ll just--”

“You’ll shut up, is what you’ll do.'' The demand is so calm it has Satori’s jaw clacking shut as he stares at Tooru. His boyfriend--maybe ex?--continues to stare at the box before slowly taking it from Satori’s still outstretched hand. He opens it slowly, stares at the ring for what feels like years, before he closes the lid and finally looks up at Satori.

There are tears in his eyes.

The information has even more panic running through Satori. He’s fucked up, he’s messed up so monumentally somehow that he knows this’ll be the death of him. He’ll remember this moment forever as the day he--

He’s being kissed. Sweetly, tenderly. Tooru has a shaking hand cupping his cheek as he tries to kiss Satori again. Maybe it takes too long for Satori’s brain to register what’s happening because then Tooru is pulling back and wiping at his eyes.

“Do you really mean this?” he whispers. He’s still holding onto the box, but all Satori can focus on are the tears building in his boyfriend’s eyes.

He nods, still too numb to speak.

And then Tooru is lurching forward, wrapping his arms around Satori’s neck in the tightest embrace they’ve probably ever shared.

“You’re a fool if you thought I’d reject you,” he whispers against Satori’s ear. He can feel tears sliding between them, but he doesn’t care. “You’re stupid, and I love you, I love you.”

“Yeah?” Satori manages to say. He pulls back from Tooru enough to look him in the eyes, despite his own vision going a little blurry.

“Of course, dummy. It’s only you.”

“Always you,” Satori mutters back, part of the saying they’ve adopted over their time together. Only you, always you. Satori always figured it’d be a limited sort of saying, and there’s still that possibility, despite a more permanent label. But he’ll take it. He’ll cherish it for as long as it lasts.

Satori pulls Tooru back in again, kissing him on the cheek before burrowing his face against the side of Tooru’s neck. He can smell his cologne, popcorn, and a little bit of sweat. He breathes in deeply, loving everything there is to love about Tooru and hoping he’ll get to love it for many more years to come.