A volleyball in one hand, keeping the other free, Wakatoshi waits (inconspicuous) by the gym's entrance, olive eyes tracking every player entering after a stop in the changing rooms. Most are familiar faces, some are new; there is only one he waits for with purpose. When Tooru finally pushes the door open, Wakatoshi takes hold of his wrist, without force, and pulls him to him; shielded from prying eyes by the bleachers. "Hey." A smile, rare and quiet, graces austere features in answer to Oikawa's bright, expressive eyes. That they would be summonned here together, today of all days... "So. We're on the same side of the court, this time." After all those years - well over a decade. Wakatoshi remembers a boy glaring at him from across the net. He remembers detestation and bitterness and frustration; he remembers looking away and pointedly deciding none of it was his problem. How far they've come now. Wakatoshi places the volleyball between his boyfriend's hands; and presses a kiss to his forehead, to his lips. "Happy birthday." (BOYFRIENDS ON THE SAME TEAM LETS GOOOO HAPPY BDAY OIKAWA <3)
the celebration of his birthday has been overshadowed by the anticipation of the next volleyball game. it is almost weird to think he will be playing beside ushijima wakatoshi, setting balls for him instead of attempting to block them. and yet it is reality, something he realizes when he’s surrounded by new teammates and a crowd of spectators filling the sideline seats. the new jersey he wears fills him with pride and the will to achieve by doing his best; not only for himself but also for his team, his supporters, and those who have been at his side for so long. one of them does happen to be @pridewon.
oikawa is momentarily confused as to why he's being dragged aside, but he quickly recovers; the sight of his boyfriend genuinely smiling being a sight he wants to imprint in his memory forever. “ you better make the most out of the balls i'm setting for you. ” he retorts, obvious he's joking, playful in the way he speaks. although when he feels a pair of soft lips on his lips, he goes quiet. he can feel sudden the rush of love sweeping past his cheeks; he can feel the sensation of falling, and falling, and falling, the skitter of air, the way his body dismounts from the ground, never weighing more than it needs to.
he feels the twist of his stomach and the red of his ears, his defenses dismantling with a soft touch, a gentle happy birthday. and as much as he feels naked and bare, oikawa grins, pulling back his plush lips, tugging, curving them into his silent declaration of happiness–of acceptance. because even if he’s taking the plunge by playing for this team and rejecting another big offer, he knows ushijima will be there along the way, holding his hand, stopping any falls and catching him in his arms. his heart fills up with joy and it spills out, to his arms and his fingertips and his stomach and his toes, to his cheeks and his ears, and out of his lips; and he announces after returning the kiss on his lips,
“ i’m expecting a proper date after we win. ”
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