#ushioiweek17

Tooru’s mouth falls open as he takes in the pile of dirt that’s been dug up. His flowers are strewn around carelessly and have already started to wilt.

He’s on his feet in seconds and dashing over to properly take in the damage. But even from a distance he could see that his flowers were beyond saving. They lay limp and brown in the sun, and Tooru has to wonder how long it’s been since they’ve been dug up.

But that’s silly. There’s no dogs around here. Dogs are too wild and loud for this peaceful neighborhood. Unless it’s a stray. Is Tooru going to have to call animal control? Tell them that a wild beast is on the loose and is wreaking havoc on his flowers?

Hm, he knows they’d never go for that, unfortunately. A few dug up flowers is nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Tooru sighs, then goes about picking up his flowers, carefully cradling them as he inspects each one in the hopes they might be saved. But of course he’s not that lucky, and he spends the remainder of his morning filling in the hole and mourning his lost plants.

Two days later there’s a knock on his door, and he opens it to find his new neighbor standing before him, a dead flower held between them.

“Um. I believe this is yours.”

Tooru looks from the dead flower to his neighbor, shoulders straightening immediately at noticing the height, at the man’s impressive build. He can’t help but admit to himself how stunning the other man is, but for some reason, it just fuels his anger.

“So I’m guessing the mutt who dug up my plants belongs to you?” Tooru finds himself sneering.

The man’s face shifts from confusion to a protective anger as he frowns. “She’s young. She got excited. We just moved here the other day and she’s not used to the area.”

“So are you saying you let her roam around without a leash?”

“Animals shouldn’t be restricted.”

“When they’re causing property damage they do.”

The man huffs, then after a moment reaches forward to grab Tooru’s hand to deposit the flower into it.

“We are both sorry for what she’s done. It won’t happen again.”

Tooru watches as the man spins on his heel and storms off, his long stride carrying him easily down the walkway, the sidewalk, and up his own walkway one house down. Tooru doesn’t understand why he didn’t just walk across the grass, but he shrugs it off. Maybe the man was trying to be a little more kinder to Tooru’s yard.

He ends up throwing the flower away, just like the rest.

 The first time he sees the dog, it’s taking a dump in his yard.

He squawks and runs after it, yelling and waving his arms about to chase it off. It isn’t until it rises from its crouch that he realizes just how big it is. He stutters to a stop a few feet away, and his mind quickly supplies itself with the breed. It’s a Doberman, he’s pretty sure. Something he’s seen in movies where they’re junkyard dogs that like to eat trespassers.

Suddenly nervous, Tooru gives a shaky laugh, body frozen and arms still held out in front of him as if that’ll ward the dog away. But obviously it doesn’t work because the dog starts to step towards him, head tilted into the air as if sniffing him out.

He’s seen too many funny and cute videos of dogs to be truly afraid of them, but looking at this stray, sleek black beast that comes up to his hips, Tooru might be shaking, just a little. He starts to take a step back, eyes trained on the dog while he tries to calculate how fast he’ll have to run if he wants to make it to his house before the dog could get him.

He’s just tensed up and is ready to bolt when there’s a loud whistle from the yard next to his. The dog’s ears perk up and it darts off with a bark, not even sparing a second glance at Tooru. He huffs as he watches it run to his neighbor’s house, his eyes narrowing as he sees the dog jump in excitement at its owner.

Tooru won’t dare admit how beautiful the man looks when smiling.

Instead, he sucks in a lungful of air, points at the mess and shouts, “You better clean up the shit your dog left in my yard!”

He waits for confirmation of his neighbor hearing him before he goes back inside, thoughts on looking up fencing options already brewing.

 The first time he learns his neighbor’s name, it’s when the man is hosting a BBQ and one of the people invited shouts it for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Tooru tries to deny that his mouth mumbles the words after hearing it, as if testing it out for himself. The name sounds familiar, but Tooru doesn’t know where he might have heard it.

He tries to pretend like the party next door doesn’t bother him, like he’s not jealous that his increasingly--annoyingly--attractive neighbor has friends over and never thought to invite Tooru. Who cares if it’s a housewarming party? It’s been two months, the house is plenty warm.

The last time any of Tooru’s friends were over was after a particularly nasty night at the bar when Tooru had gotten drunk and started a fight with a regular, and he’d needed someone to take him home and patch up his knuckles. The only reason he kept the job is because his brother owns the place.

He pretends that it doesn’t hurt that Ushijima has a crowd of people around him, and Tooru has no one.

So he sits out on his patio, his lunch beside him as he pretends to read a gossip magazine, eyes hidden behind a pair of shades. He’s positioned in a way he could shrug it off as sunbathing if asked, because how was he supposed to spy on the party if he had to constantly look over his shoulder?

The most eye catching in the crowd is a loud man with shockingly bright red hair--his voice carries so well that Tooru can almost hear every word he says--and he never lets Ushijima too far out of arm’s reach. Tooru would call him clingy if he was actually hanging onto Ushijima, but he does manage to keep some space between them.

There’s another man who appears younger, but just as excited to be around Ushijima. He reminds Tooru of the dog whenever it's around Ushijima, all wagging tail and happy yips.

Tooru hasn't found any more surprises in his yard, and he's begrudgingly happy about that.

The rest of the party goers don't stand out to Tooru, but he does notice they're all fairly tall and muscular, just like Ushijima. He wonders if they work together, or have been friends for years. Tooru tries to hold his jealousy in check.

After an hour, Tooru loses interest and flips himself over on his stomach to continue sunbathing, not intent on getting caught watching the party, no matter how good the food smells.

He's halfway asleep when a shadow falls over him, and the clearing of a throat has him jumping awake, shades slipping down as he takes the sight in front of him.

"You shouldn't fall asleep in the sun," the voice says, "you could get sunburned."

Ushijima Wakatoshi towers above him, skin-tight shirt hugging everything. His shorts are also a little on the tight side, and Tooru has to quickly look away before he's able to make out anything.

Then the words catch up, and Tooru clears his own throat, pushing his shades back up his face. "Who said I was falling asleep? And maybe I've already put on sunscreen."

Ushijima's eyebrows raise, then he points at Tooru. "You're skin is turning red. I thought I should tell you before it gets any worse."

Tooru huffs and throws a glance over his shoulder to check the color of his skin.

It takes everything in him to not cry when he sees the ugly tomato color blooming across his back.

Instead, he frowns and forces himself to stand from his chair. The pain hasn't settled in yet, so he's able to grab his things with minimal discomfort and walk away with maximum dignity.

"I don't know what you're talking about. It's always like this."

Later that evening, he calls a friend to ask about sunburn remedies.

 The first time he sees Ushijima outside of their neighborhood, he's pulling up a stool in front of Tooru, his face twisted in a frown as he stares down at the grimy countertop.

Tooru has to resist rolling his eyes or hiding in the back, but then Ushijima is catching his eye, his face morphing into confusion before his lips tilt into his version of a smile.

Tooru swears his stomach does not flip at the sight.

"What can I get for you?" he asks instead, playing nonchalant and like he doesn't know who Ushijima is.

He keeps his gaze averted as he wipes down the countertop, making sure to get up all the sticky spots, but he doesn't miss the way Ushijima continues to stare at him.

"I'll just have a beer."

He knows he does a poor job at hiding his scowl when he hears Ushijima huff out a laugh, but really, beer? He would have pegged Ushijima as a whiskey drinker. Or maybe tequila. Or maybe Tooru is just projecting because really, he could use a drink right now. Tonight has been too long and Ushijima showing up to this hole-in-the-wall bar is not something he ever expected to see.

Somehow though, the two get to talking. Tooru finally notices the gold hoops in Ushijima’s right ear and points them out, and tries not to fidget when Ushijima subtly says they’re not his only piercings. Tooru has to wonder where the rest are at, and if there’s ever a chance of him seeing them.

It’s also how he finally learns where he’s heard Ushijima’s name before, and it has him pounding a fist against the countertop while he laughs.

“An underwear model? Seriously?”

Ushijima just takes a sip of his beer, eyes narrowed and lips curved at the edges. Tooru has to gulp at the heated ook.

“It pays well,” Ushijima says when he lowers his glass, “and I quite like it. It’s a very… flexible job.”

If anyone asked, Tooru did not leave work early to go make out with Ushijima in the alley behind the bar. He suddenly wasn’t feeling well and Ushijima was kind enough to take him home. And spend the rest of the night blowing his mind with how flexible he is.

 Their first fight is brutal.

Tooru is tired and sore, his nose running and eyes burning as he tries to calm himself. It’s been hours since it happened, since he lost her, and now Wakatoshi is yelling at him, calling him words like irresponsible and untrustworthy. He tries to explain what happened, tries to tell Wakatoshi what was about to happen, but he can’t get a word in.

The insults Wakatoshi throws at him feel like slaps, and each one stings harsher than the last. Seeing Wakatoshi get so livid over a missing dog, something that’s replaceable and a dime a dozen, makes Tooru feel worthless.

It’s clear Wakatoshi doesn’t care about him, so Tooru shuts his mouth and forgets about trying to explain himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says again in the silence following Wakatoshi’s outbursts, “but I’m sure she’ll turn up.”

He lets himself out without another word, quietly closing the door behind him.

He manages to make it to his bedroom before the gasps and sobs catch up with him. He has to force himself to turn on all the lights before crawling into bed, not wanting the room to be shrouded in darkness. He used to never be afraid of the dark, or knives or strangers lurking in alleys. He doesn’t even know why this event shook him up so badly. He’s been in bar fights before! He’s broken his knuckles on other men’s faces, has had bottles broken over his head. Why should this time be any different?

Because he’s never been pinned down before. Never had a knife pressed against his throat, while horrible words are whispered in his ear and filthy hands pat him down.

He’s never had something protect him before.

Calling Wakatoshi’s dog replaceable was careless of him. If not for her, Tooru’s not sure what would have happened to him.

Wakatoshi knocks on his door the next morning, dark circles under his red eyes and hair mussed into a mess that’s beyond shrugging off as bedhead. Behind him sits his dog, her tongue lolling as she pants happily, big black eyes jumping from Tooru to Wakatoshi.

A rock lodges itself in Tooru’s throat when he hears the gruffness in Wakatoshi’s voice.

“The police found her attacking a man. He confessed to trying to mug the dog’s owner, but the dog chased him away. He had your wallet on him.”

Wakatoshi holds out Tooru’s wallet, his fingers shaking. In his haze, he forgot about it being taken, didn’t even care when his boyfriend’s dog was missing.

“I am so sorry, Tooru,” Wakatoshi whispers. The dog stands and squeezes past her owner so she can get to Tooru, her face bright as she tries to lick his hands. He lets her, the urge to hug her overwhelming him.

She’s a little dirty, more brown than black, but otherwise she looks perfectly fine.

Wakatoshi’s hands rest on his cheeks, thumbs brushing away his tears. When did he start crying?

“I’m so sorry,” he says again, his guilt palpable. “Can you forgive me?”

Tooru just wraps his arms around Wakatoshi, hugging him tight.

 Tooru first realizes he’s in love with Wakatoshi when he finds himself curled up on the couch with his head in Wakatoshi’s lap and the dog resting at their feet. Fingers are carding through his hair and there’s some nature documentary on the TV that neither of them are paying attention to. What he is paying attention to is the vase of flowers set on the coffee table just below Tooru’s line of sight.

Wakatoshi surprised him with them this morning. An exact replica of the flowers he used to have in his yard all those months ago. He was sure Wakatoshi had forgotten, or at least wasn’t sure of the types. Tooru doesn’t even know their names, honestly, but the vibrant yellows and blues he could never forget. He’d fingered the petals to feel their softness and to check that they were real, and Wakatoshi had apologized once again at what the dog had done. Had apologized about how their first meeting had gone. Tooru had waved him off with words like “It’s all in the past” and “Honestly I forgot about that” even though they both knew he hadn’t. Wakatoshi simple smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

He knows his feelings are a jumbled mess, but just lying here with Wakatoshi, the one thing Tooru knows is that he’s happy. He’s never felt so happy before, never felt so content and peaceful and warm. He’s beyond thrilled at the relationship they’ve managed to develop, how they’ve moved past petty indifference to quick fucks in the bar to this, all within a few months. It hasn’t even been a year yet and their relationship has been a whirlwind of emotions and activity.

There’s a part of Tooru that thinks they’re moving too fast, that maybe his feelings have developed too quickly and all of this will crash and burn around him in moments.

But he’s sure of himself. In this moment, curled up against his boyfriend, he knows he loves Wakatoshi. Nothing will change that.

When the fingers stop carding through his hair and move to pick up the remote, Tooru has to wonder if Wakatoshi feels the same.

 Wakatoshi is the first to say it.

Tooru almost doesn’t hear him, doesn’t even realize what he’s saying, until Wakatoshi’s hands cup his cheeks and his head is being tilted up. That soft smile is back, and his eyes are hidden behind his glasses--Tooru laughed for ages when he first saw Wakatoshi wearing them, then was the one to blush and stutter when he pulled out his own pair and Wakatoshi kissed him senseless--and the fingers against his skin are softer than his own and dammit Tooru just wants to be kissed already.

He gets his wish.

Soft lips gently press against the tip of his nose before Wakatoshi is pulling away again.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and Tooru would be lying if he said his knees didn’t shake at the softness in his boyfriend’s tone.

Tooru’s lips split into a smirk and he throws his arms around Wakatoshi’s neck, pulling him down for another kiss, a deeper kiss, that has Wakatoshi moaning.

There were hardly any good reasons as to why Oikawa Tooru would accept an invitation to a party. (Let alone a college dorm party.) It was obvious; he was hardly popular. He was the definition of a wallflower, someone who had two left feet and someone who couldn’t hold his liquor; Iwaizumi could testify to that last statement.

Which was why he couldn’t help but sigh in defeat and shiver when he was peer pressured by his study group (that for an unfathomable reason consisted of beautiful popular athletes) to go out that night. It was a Friday night after all, and their assignment wasn’t due until next Thursday. He had already confirmed that he was done with ninety percent of his homework load; there was nothing stopping him from partying a little. Not when he made the mistake to take off his glasses in front of Terushima. He didn’t like the look of mischief Terushima had when he was sizing him up.

The next thing he knew that was happening to him was his backpack being cleared up from the library table, they went to one of his group mates’ room and got an outfit for him to try. The outfit was a little snug, and a little uncomfortable. But apparently, it was approved by his whole group. He couldn’t help but blush when he got a couple of whistles his way as he was asked to turn around in encouragement. Oikawa didn’t bother to stare that long at the mirror (He was too embarrassed).

There was a hand close to his side making a motion for Oikawa to take off his glasses. He looked at Miya with a long look, “I can’t see without my glasses.”

He was hesitating, they all could see that. They slowly tried again talking to him making Oikawa wonder what exactly did they see in him that he couldn’t. Not even all the prep time could make Oikawa feel like he could belong to their group even when both Kuroo and Bokuto tried to give him fast tips of dance moves before they were leaving. His awkwardness only started to take shape when they were close to his room where Terushima tried again to convince him to leave his glasses behind.

“You do have contacts, right?” Oikawa nodded making Terushima grin, “Good. Because, I suggest you use them tonight so you don’t lose these pair.”

Oikawa was apprehensive but listened to the advice. When they all walked to where the party was Oikawa took a deep breath before being pulled into the hot room. The music was already blasting with bodies dancing all over, he felt like he could hardly breathe or move without intruding on someone else’s space. His study group were starting to scatter slowly as they met up with their friends and teammates. Oikawa was surprised that Terushima and Kuroo stayed by his side and guided him around. They both shared turns telling Oikawa who was who when they passed other students.

It was like a different world that he stepped into, the way most of the crowd were beautiful and all invested in some forms of athleticism. He could tell that he wouldn’t find that many people to have something in common with. (That is if he found some courage to talk to anyone in the party first.)

Three songs in Oikawa eventually ended in the food table where there were drinks at close hand. Kuroo had found his boyfriend and started dancing while Terushima was in the middle of a conversation with a tennis player. And while they were near him and trying their best to make him relax Oikawa couldn’t exactly see his future doing that. He didn’t like all the music that was playing, the food was okay though. But it was the company that was surrounding him.

He wished that Iwaizumi had applied to his university right now and was here with him. There were too many strangers flooding in his direction. He would stay for an hour only…he had established that Terushima before they entered the building. Looking at his watch he just needed to suffer for only forty-five more minutes. Then he would be home free. And maybe he should have seen it coming; of boredom looming over his head and making him fling responsibility out of the window when he took a sip, then another until it turned into six cups. That’s when the music started to pump his veins, where it became easier to talk to Terushima and his friend. As well, the need to dance on the floor.

He didn’t know when his body was moving to the beat, or that he peaked someone’s interest. Only that the room was getting hotter by the minute.

“Would you like to dance?”

Oikawa almost felt a heart attack come on, he looked up to see another individual in front of him. “What?” he couldn’t have heard correctly.

It was getting a little harder to concentrate.

The guy in front of him soften his face, “I said: Would you like to dance.”

Oikawa felt like his face was heating up, “Yeah. That sounds cool.”

Everything sounded cool right now. Oikawa was sure it was the alcohol; his body was almost in autopilot the way it glided in the limited space. Like his muscles retained the quick lessons from Kuroo and Bokuto. It was almost unfair the way his relaxed body was able to dance better than when he was sober. It also made it easier to blame the alcohol for his body to move shamelessly. Because lord knows if Oikawa from six cups ago was coherent enough he would have squealed and ran off from the way he moved closer to his dance partner.

The party was semi-bright making him see how clearly Oikawa wasn’t the only one enjoying their time together. A little game was going on between them, as they teased each other. They hovered with their fingers brushing on each other’s waist or chests. Neither of them stopped or looked away, Oikawa was getting too excited with the way he was winning. He would lean oh so close and mimic a kiss before pulling away. He loved how he could string in such a beautiful guy, the way he saw his dark olive eyes burn with desire but trying to desperately keep in check. (Oh, what a gentleman.)

The longer he stayed on the floor Oikawa knew he had to make a decision. He could stay and let everything fall into place, or he could try to listen to the small portion of reason and head back to his room. The way his partner leaned closer and his body craving a kiss Oikawa almost gave in. Instead, he twirled from the beat of the song and winked at him before swaying goodbye. Oikawa Tooru may have drank more than he should have but that didn’t mean he would dive too deep. Because he knew what kind of person he was; and a party animal was not one.

Leaving the party was still a little difficult the way the alcohol impaired his walking. He was lucky that Kuroo and his boyfriend, Sugawara lived nearby his dorm room to help him get back. When his head hit his pillow and his senses were still dazed he was grateful of his body shutting down and blocking his ears of the memory of Kuroo making Sugawara scream his name a couple of doors away.

Waking up from his hangover was horrible, even after a whole day of lazing around didn’t help. The weekend went slow and dull like how he preferred. His memories were foggy making him a little scared of the damage he could have caused. When he regrouped with his study group on Monday Oikawa wanted to die. All their recounts of watching him dance with Ushijima Wakatoshi (whose name alone was too popular around this campus) made him almost run away. He couldn’t believe that his drunk ass even caught his attention in the first place.

“Oikawa, dude calm down.” Bokuto patted his back. “You were like totally awesome on Friday.”

Oikawa tried his best to calm down, but he couldn’t the way he watched Bokuto smile all carefree as he called out loud for his girlfriend, Shirofuku to come over. He didn’t want to listen to Kuroo and Terushima try their best to confirm how Oikawa was fun.

“You can’t dismiss the fact that you had fun though.” Miya said when the group was starting to jump into a new topic.

Oikawa made a face. “Still, why didn’t anyone warn me who I was saying yes to dance with.” His face was too warm. “This is why I don’t drink. I get too weird.”

“And ruin the fun you had on Friday?” Terushima interrupts, “Dude you need to lighten up a little more. Too much studying isn’t good for you.”

It didn’t get any better the way the Monday afternoon rolled in with mummers intensifying in the hallways. Oikawa was in the middle of walking to the library to work on a couple of last minute revisions for a paper when he felt the voices become louder. Their faces were too daunting; it made him feel like he was back in third grade, where he failed saying his one line in some silly play and instead threw up. It didn’t help when he heard someone call out to him.

Behind Bokuto he caught a flash of olive eyes and hair, a broad smile on that face and a crowd of people watching Oikawa freeze. He rigidly waved back hoping he could disappear. When it didn’t happen and instead Ushijima got closer Oikawa had a couple of choices to make:

1. Run away without explain anything 2. Do number one but instead say he is late for something as he prepares to run away 3. Stay and die from embarrassment 4. Or like die right now so that the conversation can’t happen with so many witnesses

He didn’t have any sharp items with him, and he was in good health, so he couldn't die on spot. His body was too paralyzed, so he couldn’t run away or pretend he was late to something. Therefore, he was stuck with fuzzy memories and a second-hand account of what happened on Friday. It didn’t look so good.

Bokuto was all too relaxed when he walked over to Oikawa and slung and arm over his shoulder. “So, I was in the middle of practicing my spikes when Ushijima over here”, he pointed to him with his free hand, “mentioned about the party. It was crazy and fun.” Oikawa, felt he was being tortured the longer the conversation lasted. “Naturally we got to the part about the guests and how a certain someone made a huge impression on him.”

He could only sigh internally the way the crowd didn’t disappear because of course his life would amount to this kind of shame. He just had to have the misfortune of living in a world where drunk Oikawa made an appearance in front of Ushijima Wakatoshi (of all people!). It made no sense as to why people kept insisting he was inciting. (Like why did they bother on lying straight to his face.) He wasn’t amused. It made him wonder though, about Ushijima’s standards.

“…and so, after all that I told him I knew who he was referring to.”

Oikawa didn’t know how he looked while he went through his inner monologue when he felt Ushijima’s gaze, but it looked like Bokuto felt pleased about this kind of reunion. “So here you go.” He stepped away from Oikawa and slapped his back hard making Oikawa yip in pain and surprise. The force itself made him lose his stance as he stumbled forward. He managed to catch himself before falling straight into Ushijima’s feet. Bokuto by then was ushering the crowd away with the posse that came with them earlier. It didn’t help his stomach.

Nor the way he felt Ushijima still studying him; there were no lingering remnants of confidence in his stance. “You were a lot less shy then.”

Oikawa’s nose scrunched up, “Alcohol tends to have that kind of effect to some people.” Ushijima hums, making Oikawa wonder if he lost interest already. Ass. “Was there something that you needed? Or did you just wanted to know my name.”

Ushijima smiled like it was a natural response, “Ah yes,” he looks a little too hopeful and cheerful. “I was wondering if you were free sometime this week and maybe get something to eat.”

Oh, maybe he wasn’t an ass. Either way he didn’t know how to respond.

He was popular, Oikawa was not. Ushijima had the (whole) campus enchanted, while Oikawa was an invisible academic. It was practically a cliché story of a nerd and jock getting together. Although it wasn’t like some cheesy 80’s musical. (Which was good because Oikawa sucked at singing.) He didn’t know how long Ushijima was still waiting for a response, he almost felt bad for him. After all, debating over it for too long wouldn’t get him anywhere.

Not with the way Ushijima was still smiling at him. Too sweetly and charming. (Damn that guy with his pretty smile and attractive voice with a body that was too distracting.) Just because he was popular didn’t outright mean he was asshole. Right? His study group was mostly compromised with popular jocks, and they were nice to him. If Ushijima genuinely wanted to get to know him then...

“I’m free Wednesday afternoon.”