#srsly tho i get NONE of my prompts done except for oikawa's

[late-night-secrets]

“There’s no point in continuing. I say we stop for today and go home,” Hajime huffs. He doesn’t even receive a verbal response, just a book getting clapped shut very pointedly. Who would have thought that the Oikawa Tooru, the college’s king of the volleyball court, gets frustrated by something so mundane like a group project.

Hajime’s watching his friend’s face carefully as he grumpily packs his bag. He’s avoiding eye contact, he realizes and knows that Shittykawa is in a rather delicate state right now; one wrong word or look or movement will make him snap. They are not even that far behind with their work but Shittykawa’s problem – since he’s been a child – is that he’s a freaking perfectionist; and their project is, so far, anything but perfect, and it will probably never be. Obviously. It’s just some stupid homework for some stupid class that’s not even important enough to pass with good grades. But no matter how many times Hajime tries to make him realize that, his stubborn friend doesn’t want to listen.

So, they pack up and leave the library. Just outside they part ways with a brief “See you tomorrow” and walk in opposite directions.

Hajime’s halfway to the bus stop, rummaging through his bag and searching for his earphones, when he sees a notebook that doesn’t belong to him in there. Shit, he must have taken Shittykawa’s when he’s been in a rush to get out of the library – or rather, away from his best friend’s bad mood. He curses under his breath and turns around to go back to the direction of which he’s come from. Luckily, Shittykawa’s house is not as far away as his and perfectly reachable by foot. When he walks past the library again, he will probably need another ten minutes to arrive.

Hajime sighs. Hopefully, the fresh air will help his friend to calm down. He’s really not in the mood to deal with anymore tantrums.

A little while later he arrives at the apartment complex and enters. His feet automatically carry him to Shittykawa’s flat – it’s pure muscle memory at this point – and he knocks against the door. There is no response, but Hajime is sure that he must have arrived at home just a few minutes ago. Well, perhaps he’s made a detour to the convenience store, or to you – he’s made a comment about meeting you later today, Hajime thinks – or he just deliberately decides to ignore the knock.

Anyways, Hajime wants to get home and has little to no patience left to run after his sullen, forgetful ass of a friend. He could search for the spare key Shittykawa has given him when he has moved in, somewhere in the depths of his bag, but he doesn’t feel like it and rather tests his luck. To his surprise, he is successful when he tries to open the door.

So, Shittykawa is home. That asshole.

Hajime enters, takes off his shoes and is about to throw a snarky remark into the small, seemingly empty flat of his friend – he must be in the bath or bedroom, then – when he suddenly halts.

He hears a muffled voice coming out of his friend’s bedroom. There’s soft speaking, too quiet for him to understand, and… and a sob? Has Oikawa’s frustration gotten the best of him now? Hajime approaches the door that’s left ajar and immediately stops as he realizes the sound is not coming from him.

It’s coming from you.

From his position he catches a glance inside the bedroom, and his breath hitches for a brief second. The sight he finds is – and he’d never thought he’ll use this word earnestly – nothing but endearing. You lie on the bed, turned sideways and wearing a hoodie too big for you that Hajime recognizes as one of Oikawa’s. He’s crouching right in front of you, his face on the same level as yours. His bag is still strapped on his back, and he still wears his dark blue coat for outside. Given his attire, he apparently has barely managed to slip out of his shoes before he has come rushing to you. Probably he has heard your sob as he’s entered, just like Hajime has, or maybe you have called out to him when you’ve heard him arriving home.

It’s no surprise to meet you in Oikawa’s flat since, besides Hajime, you are the other person he has given one of his spare keys to. Seeing you in such a devastated state that left you crying, though, is something Hajime hasn’t encountered before. He has met you a few times before but you’re not particularly close. Yet, he hopes that you’re okay and that your tears are just caused by a stressful day.

But Oikawa doesn’t appear to be in distress, so it couldn’t be something too serious going on. His face carries a soft expression, and his gentle mumbling is soothing, even to Hajime’s ears. With the back of his fingers he strokes your cheeks, maybe wipes away some tears. Compared to his state half an hour ago, frustrated to a point in which even a magpie like him has grown dangerously quiet, this is a completely different man over there. He’s calm, collected and quiet.

Hajime can’t help but feel a little proud at his best friend, and astonished, too, for him to have a side that Hajime, deep down, has known to exist but has so very rarely encountered.

“I’ll be with you in a second,” he hears Oikawa say quietly. “Just let me get changed first.”

Apparently, you disagree with his choice and move to wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to stay in his crouching position. You don’t say anything but your tight grip on him speaks volumes.

“There, there,” Oikawa laughs. “Let me breath at least, will you?”

If you have heard him, you decide not to act on it and remain in your position. Oikawa can barely move but he somehow manages to slide his bag off his shoulders and peel himself out of his coat. “Clingy kitten,” he scolds without any malice.

It’s then when Hajime snaps out of some kind of trance and realizes that he is watching someone else’s intimacy. Something he hasn’t been invited to. He witnesses softness and tenderness, and it kind of melts his heart, but it’s not his moment to take part in. Shit, he’s not some creepy pervert.

Quickly and as quietly as possible, he puts the notebook on the kitchen table. As he turns to leave, he catches one final glance at the bedroom in which Oikawa apparently has surrendered as you cuddle into him whose lying next to you now, still wearing the same clothes he’s worn in the library earlier. The bag and coat are discarded and forgotten on the floor. You seem to have calmed down, at least a bit.

Hajime leaves and quietly closes the door behind him. As he walks to his bus stop, what he’s seen just now keeps replaying in his head. Shittykawa often makes annoying remarks about how Hajime surely is jealous of him having such a wonderful, lovely and beautiful girlfriend. Hajime usually smacks him for these kind of comments but right now he – and god forbid he’ll ever say it out loud – can’t help but feel a small pang in his chest. Not because he wants you, of course, because you belong to that idiot, and how could it be any different? No, he hasn’t realized before but he lowkey yearns for… someone. Someone to share moments like this with.

He sighs and plugs his earphones in while waiting for the bus. And although they have a project due and he’ll probably have to work on it a little more as soon as he gets home – because let’s be honest, Shittykawa won’t get shit done today – he still smiles.

For now, Hajime actually feels happy for his asshole of a friend. Very much so, even.

**********

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