#oisou

[ezzydean]

“I don’t want them to see me like this, so hide me. Do whatever it takes.” - Oikawa & Sousuke

The sky is dark and foreboding, an endless landscape of dirty gray clouds ready to unleash hell on unprepared travelers. It fits the look on Iwaizumi and Rin’s faces nearly perfectly as they stand in the hallway. Iwaizumi is a storm himself, barely contained irritation rippling through him like leaves quivering in the wind. Sousuke is no more afraid of the storm in Iwaizumi’s eyes than he is of his own shadow. Rin raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and, not for the first time, Sousuke thinks of the multitude of ways a person could be sliced into ribbons by Rin’s very presence.

Tooru’s words echo in Sousuke’s mind. “I don’t want them to see me like this. So hide me. Do whatever it takes.  Please.”

Tooru’s haunted eyes flicker into being in Sousuke’s mind. The way his voice had cracked before he shut himself in Sousuke’s room. The quiver in his fingers as he gripped Sousuke’s forearm.

Sousuke smiles tiredly.

“Have you tried his apartment?”

Iwaizumi’s already narrow eyes narrow even further. If Sousuke were a lesser man - or perhaps a smarter one - that look would intimidate the shit out of him. But he is who he is so he simply sighs and props himself against his door frame. Rin tsks and rolls his eyes, glancing down the hallway and then pinning Sousuke with a look that hasn’t really worked on him for years now.

“C’mon Sousuke. Hajime’s just worried about him. Like how I get worried when you pull your vanishing act on me.”

Sousuke scoffs. The humidity in the air right now is enough to make him testy on a good day.  Today had been a pretty good day so far.  ‘Had’ apparently being the keyword.

“Oh. Well. Hajime is worried,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Let me drop everything and rush right out and help you find Tooru.  Who is an adult and perfectly capable of taking care of himself and perfectly within reason to want to be left alone for a few days.”

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath.  “He’s here isn’t he?”

“Did you check his apartment?”

“Yes.  He wasn’t anywhere.  It didn’t even look like he’d been home in weeks.”

To be fair he hasn’t been home in about three and a half weeks.  At least not to do anything other than get more clothes and empty out the crappy potentially molding food in his fridge.  Heck he hasn’t even been in Sousuke’s apartment for most of that time.  He’s been doing whatever the fuck it is that Oikawa Tooru does when he wants to be left alone.

“You went into his apartment?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t even look abashed at all.  “Of course I did.  He could have been hurt.  He might have needed help.  What if he had twisted his knee and couldn’t reach his phone?  What if he-”

Sousuke couldn’t keep the snort quiet.  Tooru had twisted his knee plenty of times.  The dumb ass just dragged himself across the room to his phone.  Or if he knew Sousuke was home he banged on the floor until Sousuke gave in and went up to check on him.  But apparently he had never bothered to tell Iwaizumi this.

“You do realize he’s not an invalid?  He’s not some decrepit old man who needs daily monitoring?  Or some child who needs a firm hand and strong guidance?”  

Well Tooru acts like a child sometimes but then again so does Sousuke and so does everyone else in the world.  Everyone had childish moments.  Iwaizumi and Rin seem to be having one right now with the way they’re frowning up at him and crossing their arms.  He’s just waiting for one of them to stomp their foot in anger.  Instead Iwaizumi huffs and gestures behind Sousuke.

“He is here, isn’t he?  Can I come in so I can talk to him?”

He makes a move like he’s going to enter whether or not he has permission and a clap of thunder rattles the building, making Rin and Iwaizumi both startle and stare towards the window at the end of the hallway.  Sousuke doesn’t shift from his position against the door.  With his build he takes up the entire entryway and unless Iwaizumi wants to physically remove him Sousuke has no intention of going anywhere.  Rain starts pelting the windows in his apartment and Sousuke’s skin starts to itch.  He almost wants Iwaizumi to try it.  Almost wants him to put his hands on Sousuke so he can lash out and rip into him, use all the frustration building in him because can’t people just leave them both alone?  Haven’t they given their families, their friends, their best friends enough of themselves already?

“No,” Sousuke says quietly.  Rin looks up at him in alarm.  He knows Sousuke.  Knows his moods and tones and the way he shrugs his shoulders and taps his thumbs against counter tops when he’s nervous.  He knows what a warning sounds like coming from Sousuke, even if it’s not often directed at him.

“Hajime,” Rin says softly.  He tugs at Iwaizumi’s jacket sleeve.  “Maybe we should just give him another day or two before declaring him dead in a ditch or something.”

“Rin,” Hajime snaps.  “I thought you were all gung-ho about doing this?  About getting to the bottom of what’s been going on with him.”

Rin’s pushed Sousuke before, pushed him away, pushed him over edges, pushed him too fucking far for him to ever really come back the same.  And they both know it.  There’s an apology quivering in Rin’s suddenly wet eyes.  Sousuke accepts it with a slow blink and a shrug.

“Let’s just go.”  Rin tugs harder on Iwaizumi’s sleeve.  “I’m sure Sousuke will let us know if he hears anything from Oikawa.  Right Sou?”

He nods once and meets Iwaizumi’s gaze unwaveringly until Iwaizumi finally sighs and turns away.

“Fine.  Whatever.  Just tell him to at least let me know he’s not dead.”

Sousuke watches them leave.  Listens to their footsteps echoing up from the lower floors until the front door opens and they’re lost to the sound of the storm.  Then he finally goes back inside.

He’s jittery in his skin as he leans against his door.  His fingers twitch where they’re pressed hard against the door.  He finally made a stand here.  Finally made his decision to which side he was on.  Finally picked someone else over Rin, the way Rin so often seemed to do to Sousuke.  There’s less bitterness in his throat than he expected when he stops to think about it all.  Lightning flashes and he holds his breath until the thunder cracks the air.

Tooru is warm and pliant when Sousuke drops into his bed and curls around him.

“Thank you,” Sousuke whispers against Tooru’s temple.  He’s not entirely sure what he’s thanking Tooru for.

Sousuke drifts off to sleep with the storm raging outside and Tooru’s tired smile pressed against his shoulder.

[ezzydean]

"I know your weakness. It’s kisses. You are doomed. (Don’t worry. We’re all doomed eventually.)" - OiSou, because I have a dire need for fluff now

from 50 A Softer World Prompts

7. I know your weakness.  It’s kisses.  You are doomed. (Don’t worry.  We’re all doomed eventually.)

i call this one: let’s see how much i can make the squad yell at me

also called: i am not sure how fluffy this is and i apologize for that

Sousuke glares out the window like the scene outside it personally offended not only him but his mother, his sister, and his best friend just by existing.  Tooru glances out and sees nothing but the tops of buildings and the clear sky above them.  His apartment on the floor above them has a better view, he would know from the countless hours spent staring out the windows there, but this one has Sousuke’s couch.  And Sousuke, he supposes.  That’s not a bad trade for a less than spectacular view of the city.

Toou stares at Sousuke.  Unabashedly studies his features like Sousuke is a puzzle that he can’t wait to figure out.  Which is a bit silly.  He’s had Sousuke figured out for a while now.  They’re not so different.  Underneath all the polish and veneer and topcoats of anger and sugar and meticulously rationed smiles.  The same pulse of anger throbs in their veins.  The same feathers of dreams slip through their fingers.  The same steely will fills their bones.  The same doubts pool between their organs.  The same worry gnaws at their hearts.

No, he thinks when Sousuke sits on the floor next to Tooru’s leg and presses distracted kisses to his knee and thigh while Tooru flips through channel after channel of mindless drivel on Sousuke’s tv, they’re not so different, he and Sousuke, not so different at all.

--

Tooru’s eyes are fixed on his phone on the counter.  The screen is on and he taps and swipes just enough to give some semblance of reading something on it but Sousuke can see the jitter in his touch each time his finger leaves the surface and the way his socked toes - that Sousuke can see individually thanks to the atrocious toe socks that Oikawa is wearing today - twitch and tap at the rung of the bar stool he’s sitting on.  Oikawa’s fingers drop to his knee only once, barely brushing the skin just past the bottom of his shorts, and then his hand is back on the counter and Sousuke keeps watching him.

Sometimes Tooru is like a caged animal, pacing wildly along the edges of his apartment, feet slapping the floor and eyes darting, looking for an escape.  Sometimes he is a tamed thing.  Sprawled against Sousuke’s back leaving kisses and gentle touches across his skin.

More often than not he’s just Oikawa Tooru.  Something complicated and human and tired and warm.

--

Sousuke settles himself in bed with a quiet groan.  The mattress dips when Tooru follows a moment later and rolls himself against Sousuke’s side.  Tooru’s breaths are even and soft against his arm and Sousuke debates just taking a nap.  Not like anyone was around to be upset if he did.  Tooru would probably doze off not long after him and they would both wake up groggy and disoriented and hungry.

Or he could roll over, pull Tooru even closer, and spend the better part of the next hour or so trading lazy kisses with him.

The second option seems so much more enjoyable than the first.

“Hey Tooru,” he whispers softly as he shifts and rolls and tugs Tooru closer.  Tooru’s lids flutter and a sliver of brown glints over at Sousuke.  “Can I kiss you?”

Tooru’s eyes snap open at his soft words and a splash of red colors his cheeks.

“Do you really have to ask,” he drawls playfully.

“Probably not,” Sousuke admits.  “But I like the way you smile when I do.”  He leans close and nudges Tooru’s cheek with his nose.  “So can I?”  He breathes the question across Tooru’s cheek and smiles at the quick inhale he gets in response before Tooru replies.

“Yes, please.”

[ezzydean]

46 - Oikawa x Sousuke, do your worst Susan

from 50 A Softer World Prompts

46. We are terrible for each other, and, yes, we are a disaster.  But tell me your heart doesn’t race for a hurricane or a burning building.  I’d rather die terrified than live forever. (mistakes aren’t always regrets)

Love you Christine.  Thank you for always indulging my challenges and my cravings for rare/crossover ships  (also just so everyone knows my Oikawa/Sousuke song is Who Wants To Live Forever by Queen)

There’s a feeling of moths beating desperately against glass inside him, except the glass is his skin and the moths are his fluttering pulse as he eyes the deceptively bright room around him and debates the merits and pros and cons of just climbing out the nearest window and never looking back.  But of course the windows are the kind of industrial strength foreboding blocks of glass that while they show you a perfect view of the neatly trimmed flowering bushes and quiet street they can never open to allow you even the barest kiss of a breeze of relief from the stifling air around you.  His lungs refuse to cooperate and his throat closes a little in panic.

He’s been here before.  Been in a dozen cookie cutter renditions of this same room in general and he literally sat in this same seat two weeks ago.  He’s done this so many times that he could probably sit behind the receptionist’s desk and answer the phone and direct the calls to all the proper offices without hesitation.

“Sousuke,” the receptionist calls softly.  “Go on back.”

He sees himself to yet another deceptively bright despite being softly lit room though this one lacks the windows and attempts to make up for it by having leafy plants scattered tastefully through the open space, trying - and failing - to create a sense of solitude and solace.  Sousuke finds the plants too green and plastic looking and the lights too bright and air too pure smelling and everything was just too much.

He settles in another chair and wonders if it is too late to find some out of the way storage closet to hide in.  Maybe he can commiserate with the mops. He’s about as useful as a ragged mop with a busted handle right now.  He can be among his people.

“Good morning, Sousuke,” another soft voice says as the doctor enters the room and shuts the door gently.

Yamazaki Sousuke is so tired of soft and gentle and careful.

--

Wind whips rain against his skin, lashes and bites and claws at him, and he stands steady.  It’s a familiar thing.  This feeling of his heart racing in his chest and his fingers tingling in anticipation.

Tooru looks over at him.  His hair is plastered to his face and his soaked clothes are clinging to him and Sousuke thinks he’s never looked so alive and happy than in this moment.

The lightning and thunder cracking the sky in two is nothing compared to the rumble and sizzle of his blood in his veins when Tooru grins at him - a little wild and unsteady - and holds out his hand for Sousuke.

The world trembles around them when their fingers meet.

--

Tooru hates the three story trek up worn stairs because there is no elevator in his building.  Hates the lingering scent of burnt food that is always in his hallway.  Hates the red lines digging into his knees and the forever there press of the brace.

“I’m home.”

He hates the silence of his apartment.  It digs under his skin and tears at his bones and sinks into his mind like fishhooks.

He shuts the door before he even steps inside.  He hates that has to wobble his way back down a flight of stairs but he’s far too stubborn to just show up there without going home first; even if he doesn’t actually enter his own apartment.

He’s far too stubborn for a lot of things.

Sousuke lets him in anyway.  Lets him flop onto the couch with a whine.  He doesn’t mention Tooru’s wince when he takes his brace off but he doesn’t look away from him and act like it’s not happening either.

Sousuke doesn’t coddle him or encourage him to do his exercises or anything that he really should do when he sees Tooru limping around his apartment.

Tooru appreciates Sousuke’s apparent lack of care for his well-being.  It’s a nice change of pace from the soft touches and gentle smiles and knowing looks and stifling support.  Sousuke’s apartment is bland and boring and a dimly lit mess of a barely functional human being on a good day.  Tooru feels right at home among the disaster.

--

It’s a terrifying moment.  Tooru is balanced precariously on a high-wire of emotion.  One strong push and he’ll be free falling, plummeting into a future nearly as broken as his past.

Sousuke’s touch burns him down to ashes and then stirs them up.  He’s not a phoenix.  He’s nothing that impressive.

But Tooru does pull himself to his feet again, shaky and weary and worn, and slips his hand into Sousuke’s.

--

“You’re a broken thing,” Sousuke says as he boxes Tooru in against the brick wall of the bar that neither of them were going to go to that night yet here they are.  There’s a laugh high and tight in his throat that he chokes on.  Sousuke’s arm braces against the wall next to his face as rambunctious and joyous laughter cascades from the bar’s open doorway and Tooru winces at it.  At the brightness and color and cheer.

“Good thing you are too then, huh?”  Tooru gives him a knowing look before turning burying his face against Sousuke’s arm.  His breath is warm against Sousuke’s skin and Sousuke’s smile is a fire he knows he shouldn’t play with.

Good thing he’s gotten used to being burned over the years.

Tears, Tooru has come to realize, are bitter no matter who sheds them or why.  Happiness, sorrow, excitement, pain.  They’re all salty reminders of the fact that humans can feel too much for their too fragile bodies.  He kisses away the tears he can reach as they seep from Sousuke’s closed eyes, each press of his lips a biting reminder that Sousuke is just as human as Tooru is, that he is warm and secure here against Tooru’s chest and Tooru would be content to stay here forever.

Sousuke’s fingers rest shakily against the pulse in Tooru’s throat, a reminder to himself that Tooru may be galaxies and stars and burning comets hurtling through the air but they are all compressed into a human body.  He won’t make the mistake of making one person his entire world, not again, but he'll also never let himself regret Tooru here in his arms; be it for the rest of the week or the rest of his life.