#but somehow got more awkward and uncomfortable for Godzilla...

[ruubesz-draws]

Kong takes drastic(?) measures...

Godzilla is confused (and uncomfortable)

Fun fact! Apparently, gorillas avoid eye contact unless they want a fight lmao.

Please read this post for more context

*DO NOT REPOST MY ART*

[wincore]

main actor | wong yukhei

pairing: yukhei x reader

words: 3.6k

genre: best friends to lovers!au, college!au, reader and yukhei are pretty much cat and dog, fluff

warnings: yukhei’s wildin, language

a/n: warmup-ish fic? guess i just wanted to see how many cheesy fanfiction tropes i can fit in. vaguely inspired by this

gif credit

There are times when merely existing feels too wearisome, and there are times when you can’t be happier to be alive.

Wong Yukhei makes you feel both of these emotions simultaneously.

If someone were to ask what Yukhei’s really like (and you’ve been asked that a lot by curious crowds who’ve only ever seen him smile from afar and deduced he can’t be that nice) you’d say he’s an idiot. He’s not stupid, but he’s an idiot. Yukhei is a bunch of contradictions, but he’s your best friend and you’ll reluctantly admit, probably the best thing that’s ever happened to you. (Under no circumstances would you be caught dead saying that to him, even though you’re sure he’d just respond with a bone-crushing hug, grinning from ear to ear.) Obviously, you’ve got a lot of mixed emotions involved here.

The first time you met Yukhei, you were four. He had skipped over to you from another corner of the room, with wide eyes and a soft toy puppy in hand.

“You’re pretty. Do you want to go on a date?” he asked with a wide smile.

“No,” you responded, your attention still on your toy train. You glanced at him once and that was it.

“Okay,” he said, still grinning. Rejection wasn’t that big of a deal to four-year-old Yukhei.

Instead of leaving, he sat down beside you and watched you play. Eventually, you started talking to him about your fantasy land of trains and he, about his imaginary life as a firefighter. And after a few days, you and Yukhei were inseparable.

It’s quite the story for him to tell people, even if you never understood why he likes talking about it so much. It wasn’t very dramatic, or memorable like all the first meetings in books. But it’s always been a unique ability of Yukhei’s to make things sound a little more interesting as he animatedly told everyone at school how you were a cold, dark victim trapped in your lonely bubble and how he, your shining hero, warmed you up. You just make a face every time he forcibly brings you into the conversation.

Unlike elementary school Yukhei, middle school Yukhei was a little meaner, rougher at the edges. He never had any harmful intentions (you wondered if he had any intentions at all) but you always seemed to land the shorter end of the stick when it came to his shenanigans. A rapidly growing boy, he had difficulty getting his limbs in order and more often than not, he’d underestimate his own strength. Whether it was shoving you too hard or the one time he accidentally broke your toy train, those years had quite the horrors you’ve faced in life.

You’re lucky to have survived near him during his awkward teenage phase, full of hormones and messy feelings and Axe body spray. Yukhei’s never been good at telling people no and combined with adolescent curiosity, he’s been in quite a few choppy relationships.

But in the end, Yukhei still has the colour of a comic book hero. He’s always been the main actor of every play, whereas you doubt you’d get the role of villager C. Star athlete and the pride of your school, he’s never wasted an opportunity to enjoy the attention. You, on the other hand, prefer a little alone time. You’re different, immensely different, but you admire him for all that he is. He’s strong in a way you can’t quite describe, only appreciate in subtle ways. You’ve seen Yukhei grow from a boy who refused to admit he wasn’t happy, that he’s not always the smiling hero, to a man who learned to respect all emotions. He still hates to cry, sure, but he doesn’t do it in shadows anymore, pretending to be strong.

dumbass, 01:06 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image]

you, 01:07 AM

wtf yukhei

you, 01:07 AM

why are you awake

dumbass, 01:07 AM

i cant stop :(

dumbass, 01:08 AM

i think im addicted

you, 1:08 AM

to puppy pictures??????

you, 1:08 AM

you know what im not even gonna ask

you, 1:08 AM

go the fuck to sleep you big baby

dumbass, 01:10 AM

but look :(

dumbass, 01:10 AM

[Attachment: 26 Images]

you, 01:11 AM

tf im not looking at all of that

dumbass, 01:11 AM

:(((

dumbass, 01:11 AM

:( but :( puppies :(

you, 01:12 AM

good night dork

Yukhei’s a whirlwind of life, bringing energy wherever he goes. That’s the first thing anyone notices about him. The way his face stands out in almost any crowd, and not because he’s built like a giant teddy bear. The way he can find friends in almost anyone, and all he has to do is flash that grin.

Growing up, everyone could tell he’s a little off-beat, but it only made people want to be near him. The more he stood out, the more he fit in. It’s no wonder you see hordes of people around him, smiling back at his own friendly, dorky gestures.

“You get a walk-in closet and I don’t even get a washing machine?!” Yukhei complains, plopping down on your bed.

You’re certainly lucky to get the biggest dorm room, even if the closet occupies half of it. Now, if your roommate wasn’t such a dick, the beginning of your college life would be perfect.

“Wha- how are those two related?” you ask, leaning back on the wall as you sit beside him.

“I have to go all the way downstairs to wash my clothes,” he replies, “Henceforth, I am upset.”

“When did you learn such big words, Yukhei?” you tease.

“I’m not stupid,” he defends, “Surprising, I know. Considering I got my hand stuck in a Pringles can last week. Again.”

You laugh as he shoots you a grin and sits up, tugging up his red jacket on his shoulder.

“At least you like your roommate,” you grumble, before lowering your voice. “I don’t know which supernatural being up there I crossed to get mine.”

Yukhei laughs. “It can’t be that bad!”

You roll your eyes and smack the back of your head against the wall. Of course, he wouldn’t get it. Yukhei gets along with just about anyone.

“So, we’re starting college, huh?” he shifts to sit beside you.

“We really are,” you breathe.

And so when college began, you couldn’t even feel homesick because Yukhei brought home with him.

College somehow manages to amplify Yukhei’s tendencies to fuck shit up. Bad decisions and good intentions—whether it’s getting drunk at parties, or getting a secret tattoo, or going for midnight drives in the brightest part of the city, he certainly is living his life to the fullest. And he gets new friends to do that with—boys with similar interests and trouble in their presence (except Mark, he’s the sweetest and is only dragged to places like you are). Kunhang is a babbling mess when it comes to drinking, Dejun has strange food choices and Jungwoo isn’t as naïve as he looks (but that’s on you, you could never blame Jungwoo for anything). Mark might just be the sanest, and even he has his quirks. You’re glad, though, for Yukhei to have found them and for them to have found Yukhei.  

Despite all changes in Yukhei’s expenditure of time, he still finds a way to sneak into your spare moments.

“Tell me that story you were talking about,” he says, falling backwards onto your bed.

“Now?” you ask, still groggy after waking up from your unforeseen nap. Finals are not treating you well.

“Yeah,” he says, “You look like you could do with a break.”  

Of course, there are times when you hate Yukhei. Times when he’s reckless, pulls you into messes you know you can’t sort, times when you just feel so fucking annoyed by your best friend.

“You did what?!” you yell.

“It’s not that bad!” Yukhei explains, waving his arms around wildly.

“I am not going on a date with a stranger!” you yell, your voice coarser than usual as you search for something to fling at him.

“It could be fun!” he replies, ducking to avoid the slipper you threw at him. “You could be meeting the love of your life—all thanks to me!”

You throw the other slipper at him, and he narrowly dodges it. “No way is that happening.”

It’s not like it took you that long to realize your feelings, after the beginning of college. It happened slowly at first, barely a meandering stream of water, till the waves suddenly came crashing and you were drowning in your epiphany. Suddenly, you can’t not think of Yukhei’s large hand over yours or his bashful smile directed at you or even the way his lips look plump and kissable in the morning, despite the rest of his face all puffed up. There’s often stardust on his cheeks, you notice.

Suddenly, you know why Yukhei has always been the main actor in your life.

But you can’t be as open about it. If it’s not the idea of your longest and closest friendship falling apart that blows up your fears, it’s the image of Yukhei’s smile falling as he tries to tell his best friend no, and having to pretend everything’s okay. If the void in your stomach is good for anything, it knows when to tell you the jump is too difficult to take.

If anything, you don’t even know what you mean to Yukhei, but that’s coming from the negativity you hoarded. You have your fears and your questions. If you cross his mind as often as he crosses yours. If you take even a square inch of his heart, if he’ll ever see you that way. You’re not sure what it’d feel like to be the most important person to someone. If you go as far as to call this love, why are you so reluctant?

“And?” you egg him on, crossing your arms.

Yukhei going to frat parties was a horrible decision, really.

“I got drunk and started doing body rolls in front of everyone?” Yukhei shifts uncomfortably on your bed. He’s probably spent at least half of his days here in your dorm room, only leaving when your roommate started complaining about how loud he is. To be fair, he does sound like baby Godzilla at times, worse when more of your friends are over.

“Yukhei, you’d do that sober,” you grimace.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he says, pretending to think.

“Are you going to tell me what got you so uncomfortable?” you ask.

“I mean…it’s not that bad,” he begins, eyes glued to a corner of the floor to avoid your gaze.

“You made out with someone, didn’t you?” you sigh. It hurts a little.

Yukhei scratches the back of his head as he breaks into nervous laughter. “Yeah, and now she kinda thinks we’re a thing, and I don’t know what to tell her.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You wish you could yell at him, let him know in any way how awful you feel.

“Yukhei, you have to stop leading them on! Every party you kiss someone new. Any more, and you’ll get a bad reputation!”

“I know!” he responds quickly. “But I was so drunk last night I couldn’t remember my name.”

“But you remembered to dial my number?”

“Well…yeah.”

Yukhei fidgets with the hem of his sweatshirt. “I’d call Mark, but he was at his part-time.”

You groan, sinking onto the floor. “I feel like a parent with a stupid son.”

“Hey! Now that’s exactly what my mom would say,” he chuckles, scooting to sit beside you.

There’s a heavy silence between the two of you for a few moments. You gulp down any reproachful words you might have left and stare at your fingers instead. You can’t tell him how upset you really are, can you? You’d have to explain the why then.

“Are you…are you just scared my reputation will be ruined?”

You turn to look at him, but he’s staring straight ahead. “Huh?”

“I mean, is that…what’s making you upset? Just that?”

“Yeah,” you answer, and mentally curse your voice for cracking like that. “I don’t want people thinking you’re some sort of an asshole.”

“Me neither,” he says, looking back at you with wider eyes than usual. “I mean- yeah, that’s- obviously.”

You shake your head at him, but you wonder how long it’ll be till you break. You’ve never kept something so serious from him before. It’s human nature to want more than you already have; Yukhei loves chasing after things he can’t have, but you’re not him. You’ve never been him.

Only a few days later, you see your roommate fuming as she leads a rather flushed Yukhei into your room.

“Next time he comes here, I’m calling the RA,” she threatens with a glare before walking away.

You roll your eyes at her back before grabbing Yukhei by the waist lest he falls and smacks his head against your furniture. Your action, however, proves to be miscalculated (you always forget how heavy he is) as the two of you stumble to the floor, barely avoiding the edge of the bed. You stand up again; Yukhei seems to be half asleep with the way he’s struggling to move around.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t drink,” you grumble.

“I said I wouldn’t go to parties,” he struggles to form the syllables. “I went to a really cool bar…it had funky lights and stuff. And I was dancing…and it was so much fun! Except I underestimated how strong that drink was.”

You sigh heavily. “That’s all you talk about. Fun, fun, fun!”

Yukhei grins as he rises to his full height and wraps his arms around your waist. You’d chide him for the reek of alcohol from him if he didn’t look so vulnerable, dormant like this. His eyes are half-lidded with sleep and when he rests his forehead against yours, you swear your heart has skipped several beats in a row. It’s not fair how peaceful he looks with his eyes closed when he’s sent you into internal turmoil. The warmth of his body seeps through the thick hoodie, and you almost find yourself unable to move.

You swallow the feeling rising in your throat and pull apart.

“Come on, Yukhei,” you tug at his hands to remove them from your waist. “Let’s get to bed.”

“We’re going to bed!” he rejoices gleefully. You’re glad he’s complying at least.

Now if he would just let go, you could prepare a blanket to sleep on the floor.

Yukhei doesn’t remove his arms from around your waist, though. Instead, he pulls you into bed with him, and under the covers. This is nice, the stupid voice in your head pipes up again.

“We’re friends,” he mumbles, “friends do this all the time.”

Not when one of them has more than friendly feelings, you think bitterly. Struggling is futile against Yukhei’s iron grip, and you let yourself feel what you were trying so hard not to. When you look at him under the dim lights coming from your window, he’s already out for the count. You brush the hair away from his face and slowly drift off. It feels safe like this.

Of course, you pretend your heart didn’t jump at the sight of his face too close to yours. You’ve shared a bed when you were kids before Yukhei grew too large to fit the two of you and developed a tendency to drool. He has broader shoulders now, longer legs and he engulfs you when he wraps himself around you. In the morning, your body aches after being wound up so tightly on a small bed but you ignore it best as you can. You ignore the rising warmth in your face too when Yukhei departs with a secure hug and his wide grin.

You wonder what it’d be like to be Yukhei—ruin it all and hope it works out. You wonder what it’d be like to see his idiot grin every night, after a kiss against your lips. You scoff at yourself, face a brilliant red, whenever these thoughts walk in unannounced. It’s getting harder to pretend you don’t stop breathing every time he wraps an arm around you or lays his head on your stomach.

“So let me get this straight,” you say, “you can’t get a job at the diner because you’re too tall to fit into the mascot uniform?”

“Yeah,” Yukhei replies, clearly despondent. Usually, he’d be beaming about his height. You can’t figure out why the job means so much to him, but you get your answer soon enough just to greet it with a click of your tongue.

“The free pancakes,” he wails, “They give free pancakes and fries to their workers. I can’t believe I’m missing out on that.”

Yukhei suddenly sits up straight with wide eyes. “You can fit into the suit though!”

You smack your palm against your forehead while he laughs at his genius.

“You practically live in the gym and talk my ear off about being healthy,” you huff, “And now you just want to hog junk food?”

“I’m just good at being healthy,” he grins. “So I can eat unhealthily. You could do with some work, though.”

You raise your leg to kick him in the side but he catches your foot, laughing loudly at your resentful expression.

You’re about to throw the pillow at him when a click comes from the main door unlocking. The two of you freeze and look at each other. You know for sure this will be the last straw if your roommate finds Yukhei again, and you’ll be reported for good. Yukhei and you jump up in a panic and look around for any way to evade impending doom. The few seconds have you frantically searching for an explanation in case she does find him, and you swear at yourself for forgetting about her warnings. (In your defence, most of the things she says are meaningless and you have no reason to remember them.)

Yukhei points to the giant walk-in closet and sneaks towards it, careful not to make a noise. You tiptoe in before your roommate can enter the shared room, and hide behind a rack just in case she decides to come in. Yukhei isn’t small enough to be entirely covered, so you just pray your roommate has no intention of fetching a pair of shorts.  

You hold your breath at the shuffling outside the door and move backwards carefully, only for your back to press against Yukhei’s torso. He stiffens at the touch but continues the needed silence. You end up squeezed in one corner of the closet, little ways from the mirror.

You sigh in relief once you hear the click of the door again. She must’ve come in to get notebooks for her next class, you guess. You turn to Yukhei but your breath hitches when you see him like that in the half-lit closet, his figure leaning towards you. It’s not very comfortable to have your body close against him, half twisted.

Yukhei’s gaze sends your heart into a pitfall. He takes a step towards you just as you take a step back and you end up pressed against the wall with Yukhei’s arms on either side of you.

“You’re still so pretty,” he says, his voice low.

A pause ensues before he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

The touch of his lips against yours has you seeing colours you never knew existed. One of his hands still rests against the wall while the other is placed gently around your waist. You can’t quite remember the details except Yukhei’s lips are as soft as silk and you resent the separation when he pulls apart.

“I’ve wanted to do that,” Yukhei looks down as he speaks, his cheeks tinted a darker shade of pink, “for a really long time.”

“You’re so stupid,” you huff, “Or maybe I’m the one who’s stupid.”

He responds with a wide-eyed smile when you cup his cheeks and pull him in again, your fingers skimming over his lower jaw. This time you feel every touch of the kiss, your fingers tingling and your lips tasting his. The feelings you’ve been struggling to tie up and toss away come pouring out of you as you try to keep them orderly.

It’s different splashes of colour with each kiss and the two of you can’t help the laughter tumbling out of your mouths.

“I love you,” Yukhei murmurs, his mouth against your jaw. “I’ve loved you all my life.”

He places a chaste kiss against your lips before looking at you with an adoring smile. Yukhei’s never been good at using words to express his feelings, but he’s never really had trouble expressing them either.

“I’m sorry I took so long to realize,” you whisper, before pulling him by the neck of his sweatshirt and into another kiss.

“I’m letting you go just this once,” you roommate calls when you step out of your room in the evening. “Congratulations on getting a boyfriend.”

You blush deep red and look anywhere else to avoid her sly grin. So she did figure it out. You owe her one, or more for not telling on you all the times Yukhei and the others have been over. Perhaps you had got off on the wrong foot. You should start listening to Yukhei’s advice on how to make friends. You should start listening to Yukhei for a lot of things.

Maybe Yukhei has always meant to talk about your colours but never found words good enough. Maybe he loves the way you laugh and finds himself doing more and more ridiculous things just for you. Maybe he’s told you that he loves you a lot of times but you weren’t listening. Maybe, just maybe, you too have always been the main actor in Yukhei’s life.

[elo-kodon]

Untitled Iwaoi Short Story #1

        “Wow…I still can’t believe it, Iwa-chan. Auntie invited me to be in a legit fashion show,” Oikawa beams happily and puts his arms behind his head, leaning back in his seat. “I mean, a fashion show for teenagers since she makes clothing for that particular age group-but still!” he raises a finger in the air, matter-of-factly, “I get to be featured as one of her star models! I think I’ll be put in somewhere near the end. Pretty cool, huh?”

           Iwaizumi stares grumpily ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel of his truck a little too tightly. “Sure, Shittykawa.”

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           Iwaizumi didn’t originally want to take Oikawa on this weekend trip, but Oikawa had convinced him, somehow. He thought back to the week before when Oikawa had rushed over to their usual table in the cafeteria, slammed his tray down and had announced his aunt’s invitation to the whole group.

           Matsukawa raised his head up from where it was resting lazily against the palm of his hand. “Wait, whatdya mean?”

           “Since when have you been interested in clothes?” Iwaizumi asked, popping a fry into his mouth.

           Hanamaki nodded, “yeah bro, it’s not like you’ve ever considered that as an actual career choice. I mean what’s in it for you?”

           Oikawa sat down, took off his schoolbag, and sighed. “It’s simple. I’m not. But think of how many girls I could get once they all find out I’m a model! I’ll be the talk of the town! I mean, I already am pretty popular here. Why not share my good looks with the rest of Japan? It’s only fair.” He added the last sentence smugly, as if it was a simple conclusion that anyone could make just by looking at him.

           “So where is this show again?” Mattsun asked.

           “Don’t you dare say Tokyo,” Iwaizumi added.

           Oikawa gave out a short laugh. “Oh don’t be ridiculous, my aunt’s line isn’t that popular yet. But it’s gonna be in Mito, so not too far from here.” He stared off ahead into the distance wistfully, then frowned slightly, “but Mom’s gonna be out of town this weekend helping with some school charity or something like that…” He thought for a few seconds, then immediately straightened up, turning to Iwaizumi.

           “Uhm, no.” Iwaizumi replied to Oikawa’s frantically pleading look.

           “What??”

           Hanamaki and Matsukawa snickered, getting up to take their trays back. “Well tell us how that trip goes, Iwaizumi,” Mattsun said, trailing off after Maki.

           “Iwa-chan, please?? It’ll be so much fun! It’ll be like a mini-road trip! You love road trips!”

           Iwaizumi glowered at the brunette across from him. “I know you’re only asking me because you still don’t have your license.”

           “Yeah well-that’s not the point here, the point is,” Oikawa let out a small huff, closed his eyes, and restarted, “This trip…this show could be momentous to my high school career! Think of the girls, Iwa-chan! Think of how proud my aunt would be!” Oikawa grabbed Iwa’s shoulder and looked into his eyes, attempting to give him the most sincere, pleading expression, “Think of the home-cooked meals!!”

           When that didn’t convince Iwaizumi, Oikawa slumped his shoulders and looked down at the table, trying to think of something. “Iwa-chan, ya know, there’s that new Godzilla movie coming out the weekend after this…,” Oikawa started, noting how Iwaizumi flitted his eyes towards him, still not speaking, “I guess we could go see it, if you wanted…” he trailed off, letting Iwaizumi piece it together.

           “I am so gonna regret this…” Iwaizumi finally said.

           “YES!” Oikawa exclaimed, balling his right hand into a triumphant fist. “Don’t worry, Iwa-chan, this’ll be the best road trip ever!”

           “Yeah, yeah, Shittykawa. You’re helping pay for gas.”

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              Oikawa’s voice snaps Iwaizumi back to the present. “-and of course they’ll be quick changes backstage, photographers, and I’ll be getting my own makeup table and chair! I mean, these people don’t fuck around, it’ll be super official-“

           “Mmph.” Iwaizumi responds absently, trying to put on a neutral face.

           “-of course none of the other models will hold a candle to yours truly.  If I’m great at volleyball, who knows what else I’m good at-“

           Iwaizumi wants to be happy for him. He does. No, he is- happy and excited for him, in his own way. But something deep down keeps bothering him. He doesn’t know exactly what it is, all he knows is that Oikawa has been on this subject for the past hour now and if he doesn’t shut up soon Iwaizumi might have to throw him out the window.

           “-and I mean I knew I was good looking and all, but damn, model status? I mean I honestly should’ve seen this coming like-“

           Iwaizumi interrupts Oikawa’s endless stream of talking, “Oh yeah Shittykawa, another chance to have an even more inflated ego, can’t wait.” He throws out that last part sarcastically.

           “Whatever do you mean Iwa-chan?” the brunette asks, oblivious to Iwaizumi’s growing headache, “It’s only right that the rest of Japan sees my natural beauty! Sorry that I just have a better fashion sense than you.” He sticks his tongue out at Iwaizumi, throwing up a peace sign.

           “Oh yeah, sure, plaid shorts with a navy blue shirt and sweater that don’t even match. Got me there, fam.”

           Oikawa snaps his eyes towards Iwaizumi, his face changing from a smug grin to visible annoyance. “Okay seriously??  Now you’re just being an ass…So mean…What crawled up your butt and died?”

           “Alright, I’ve officially had enough.” Iwaizumi thinks to himself. His body reacts before he’s able to say anything else and he slams on the break, quickly moving onto the shoulder. Seconds later, the truck comes to a halt. Oikawa’s head hits the back of his seat and he gives Iwaizumi a look of anger, but it quick turns into one of concern.

           “What do you think, asshat?”

           Oikawa is momentarily tempted to shoot back another snarky retort in response to that, but he knows Iwaizumi too well to not notice when something is actually bothering him. “Um…I don’t know? Are you upset that Etsuko from Class 2 confessed to me last week?...I politely declined her confession, if you were wondering about that-“

           “I know that, dumbass.” Iwaizumi responds, with a little bit more calm demeanor to his voice.

           “Then what’s the matter? Seriously, Hajime, I’m not a mind reader ya know…I can’t help you if you don’t even tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

           Leaning his head back into his seat, Iwaizumi, lets out low sigh. “I just…” As he’s trying to come up with what to say, the thoughts he’s kept to himself for a while start bubbling up to the front of his mind. He picks through the myriad of sentences he could use to explain his current feelings, but the more he thinks about want he wants to say, the more everything seems stupid, dramatic, and ultimately superficial. He brings his thumb and forefinger up to the bridge of his nose. “No, ya know what, forget it, it really doesn’t matter.” But Iwaizumi knows that once Oikawa thinks that he’s pissed him off, he’s not going to stop trying to figure out what’s bothering him. Sometimes it’s a blessing to have someone like that in your life, but this time it feels like a curse.

           Oikawa leans forward closer to his best friend’s side. He knows that there must be a good reason Iwa-chan is avoiding the topic. Iwaizumi has never liked to make a big deal about his internal struggles in life. Whatever this is must be important.

           Iwaizumi looks out the window of his truck, not knowing how to continue this conversation. It’s just…so stupid. “Why am I so bothered by such a trivial thing??”

           A few awkward moments pass and then Oikawa gently pokes him in the shoulder. “Uhm, Iwa-chan….You know those things I said early when we were arguing….they were just jokes, yeah? But if it felt like they weren’t…then I’m truly sorry. I never meant to actually insult you… Are you…concerned about something that I was teasing you about?”

           Iwaizumi huffs, “Tsk. No, Oikawa. It’s not any of that. I know I probably said a couple stupid things to you as well.” He turns resolutely and meets Oikawa’s gaze. “Okay. Ya know those times where random girls from the other team’s fan section will come up to you after the end of our games and ask you for autographs?”

           Oikawa shrugs. “Yeah, why?”

           Iwaizumi turns his head to look forward again. He couldn’t keep this conversation up if he had to look Oikawa in the eye at the same time. It was already embarrassing enough just thinking of the words.  “Or those times at lunch when Maki and Mattsun are making a bunch of jokes, arguing about who’s the prettier one and it usually comes down between you and Suga from Karasuno?”

           “Mr. Refreshing? I never regarded him as actual competition in the looks department but- Wait they actually do that? How I do not know about this??”

           Iwaizumi shakes his head impatiently. “They talk about it when you get up to put your tray away. Now please let me finish.”

           “Sorry.” Oikawa adds quickly.

           Iwaizumi takes another short breath and starts again. “Well, those things always happen to you and it’s cool and all but…sometimes…” He nervously runs a hand through the top of his spiky hair, a faint blush starting to dust his cheeks. “I just get…kinda jealous I guess.” He quickly finishes the last part of his sentence, praying Oikawa won’t laugh his ass off.

           Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he sees the look of genuine surprise and slight confusion on Oikawa’s face.

           Oikawa takes a minute to process what Iwaizumi’s just said, honestly taken aback. “You’re actually jealous? Of me? Like, being regarded as what? Pretty?”

           Iwaizumi is suddenly aware of his entire face flushing up but is determined to try and salvage what’s left of this uncomfortable and weird conversation. This definitely would be on his top ten list of most uncomfortable conversations ever. Like, ever. Mandatory puberty conversations included. “Yes, fine, okay nerd?? I’m jealous of you. Everyone including my own mother is always talking about how ‘you have such great bone structure’ and ‘oh, you’ll make such a fine husband one day!’ You ever notice how that never happens to me? I mean, I don’t know, it doesn’t matter and it’s such a stupid thing to make a big deal out of but damn, for once I just want someone to regard me like they regard…you. I mean, shit, am I ugly or something??” He frantically turns to Oikawa towards the end of that sentence, gesturing to his own face.

           Oikawa watches as his best friend turns toward him asking the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard in the entire universe. Even when Iwaizumi’s stressed, his black eyebrows knitting together, he still manages to look incredibly hot. His dark, intense eyes, the blush gathering across his glowing, tan face… it really should be a crime. “Get it together Tooru, that’s a thought you can linger over for later…”

           Oikawa laughs lightly and smirks at his friend. “Oh Iwa-chan. Trust me on this, you are not ugly…Far from it actually.” Realizing that he’s been looking at Iwaizumi’s lips a second too long, he clears his throat and turns back to look out the front window. That was probably too much.

           “You idiot,” he thinks to himself, “Way to make yourself look like a thirsty bitch.” He just hopes Hajime doesn’t pick up on his brief flirtation.

           Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows as Oikawa finishes his remark. He’s suddenly very pulled into Oikawa’s wide, brown eyes, noting that his shining orbs are the same color as freshly turned-up soil on a spring day. “Uh, thanks Shittykawa,” he mumbles hoarsely.

           “Well!” Oikawa smiles brightly, “Now that that conversation’s out of the way, do you mind getting back on the road? My aunt is still expecting us to show up in time for dinner ya know.”

           Iwaizumi clears his throat awkwardly and leans forward towards the steering wheel. “Sure, sure.” He puts the car back into drive and quickly merges into the lane.

           The two teenagers make their way along the scenic road, the sky now turning a light, dusty pink over the trees. It’s quiet for a while, but not altogether uncomfortable. Oikawa decides to put his earbuds in and stretches out his long legs over the front glove box area of the truck, watching the scenery whoosh by. Iwaizumi has one of their many mix CD’s playing softly in his stereo, silently mouthing along some of the lyrics here and there.

           Oikawa keeps returning back to their most recent conversation in his mind. Although Iwaizumi looks more relaxed at this point in the trip and it seems that the small, faraway smile has returned to his face, Oikawa can’t help but think that Iwaizumi truly doesn’t grasp his own beauty. Sure, maybe only one or two girls have ever confessed to him since their first day of high school together, but that doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. High school is, after all, a very brief and insignificant time in a person life. Even Oikawa, the Grand King, knows that much.

          “Fuck it.” Oikawa mutters, taking out one of his earbuds. He laughs softly to himself, looking down at his lap.

           Iwaizumi’s ears automatically pick up on the curse word. “Hm?” he grunts.

           “Look Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, still looking down, “I know you still probably don’t believe you’re pretty, but you are. Very much so. And I’m going to prove it to you because that’s just who I am.” He grins brightly at Iwaizumi for a couple of seconds, leans his head back against the seat, and closes his eyes.

           Iwaizumi doesn’t quite know what to make of that. “Whatever you’re planning, I wouldn’t recommend it,” he states weakly.

           Oikawa smiles, his eyes still closed, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun on his face. “Don’t worry… Just enjoy the trip and leave the rest to me.”

           The offhand tone in his friend’s voice feels eerily cryptic for some reason. He knows Tooru would never do anything to intentionally hurt him. “Still,” Iwaizumi shifts his right hand on the wheel, gripping the leather a little tighter, “Oikawa does tend to have a flair for the dramatic.”

                                                   END OF PART 1

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A/N: Uhm, wow, I love iwaoi with all my heart and I don’t know why I haven’t done a one shot/short story on them in all my time on tumblr! Just a short story I thought of today as I thought about how no one ever regards Iwaizumi as pretty, just handsome or a hunk, or whatever. Pretty and self-confident Iwa-chan for the win! If you ended up reading this far then please leave me a comment or a like to let me know what you think! Sorry if there are any grammatical errors in this, I don’t have a beta reader. I have more ideas for this short story so stay tuned! We’ll see if I end up writing more of this in the near future. Oh, and if anyone wants a beta reader for their fic I am more than willing to help out for free! I actually love proofreading things and making creative suggestions for plot lines and stuff!