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tooruluv · 4 years

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Tooru Oikawa x F!Reader ( part 3 )

❝ my love for him is much like winter, a skeleton for the world to see. too bad he never liked the cold. ❞

description: being the neighbor and lifelong best friend of tooru oikawa definitely had it’s perks. you were never an outcast, always had a seat at lunch, got into volleyball games for free. the problem was, however, that being in love with him outweighed those perks. you would never tell him that, though, even if it hurt like hell.

genre: best friends to lovers, angst, unrequited love, fluff if you squint hard enough

word count: 2,210

warnings/notes: um yeah. this one moves fast, but this whole fic is basically about this one scene, this one part. so enjoy. no serious warnings, just strong language and some gay shit. angst.

tag list: @afuckingunicornn

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“You’re... gay?” you whispered.

“It isn’t a fucking slur, you drunk ass.” Iwaizumi spoke, shoving you with his arm (making you hit your head on the door, but you barely noticed). “And I don’t know what exactly I am, but I just know it’s not straight.”

“Matsu?” you turned to the other boy.

“I’ve been gay, and Iwa is sexy as fuck so who am I to deny his sexual awakening?”

It almost made you laugh.

It was hot in the closet. Dark. And you were squished in between two (very tall) men. A single light hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly.

“I uh,” You were so numb. You played with your sleeves. “I watched ‘Kawa make out with this girl. Stood there like an idiot and watched it happen. And it… it sucks to like know about it but to see it…to watch it happen…it’s way worse.”

“Oh,” They both said, sadness laced behind a whisper.

“You were going to tell him, weren’t you?” Matsukawa inquired.

You gasped, turning wide-eyed to Iwaizumi. He held his hands up in surrender. “You told him?” and “I didn’t tell him I swear!” coming out of both of you at once.

“I knew for, like, years now.” Matsukawa interrupted. “You’re the most obvious person ever, just so you know. You might as well be the fucking heart eye emoji whenever you look at him.” He paused to gauge your reaction, which was nothing. “Back to my question: you were going to tell him, weren’t you?”

“I..” you bit the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, I think so? I don’t know. I just know I really wanted to talk to him and see him and hear his voice. And I still do. But now my mind is full of him and the really pretty brown-haired girl exchanging spit.”

“Gross.”

“Maybe we should get out of the closet and get some air.”

The next morning, you woke up on the floor in the guest bedroom. Iwaizumi had taped a piece of paper to your forehead (“drink water” it said), and a blanket was wrapped around your upper body. You could not remember what happened after leaving the closet, how you ended up in the guest room, or why you were on the floor and not in the perfectly good bed above you.

But, nonetheless, you got up and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Where the fuck is Oikawa?

A loud thump interrupted your thoughts. Yup, there he was. You let out an annoyed groan as he decided to make the most noise possible on his way to the kitchen.

You pulled yourself onto the counter, wanting to slam your head against the cabinet. You never got hangovers, why was today the day you got one?

“Well don’t you look beautiful this fine morning.” Oikawa greeted, smiling.

He always looked his best in the morning, you thought. He may come across as perfect, but it makes your heart do flips when he comes in with bed head and his glasses on. Not to mention he looked absolutely gorgeous in the morning sunlight, beaming and bright.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” Your eyes were still closed.

You heard movement, a cabinet open then close, and only opened your eyes when he stood in front of you (in between your legs, no less). You held your breath.

“I look amazing, and you know it.” He was so close you could feel his breath. He brushed his teeth, the smell of mint circling you. Why was he so close?

He reached forward, pressing his hand to your forehead. Still half awake and clearly extremely hungover, you leaned into his touch as he moved his hands to your cheeks. His eyes scanned your face, but your eyes never moved from his.

His hands paused and stayed on your neck, just below your jaw. Hovering.

Unconsciously, you leaned forward. Only a little bit.

And he did too.

Your lips were so close. If you wanted to, you could kiss him. Just like that. A few centimeters away, and you could do what you’ve wanted to do for years. Feel what it would be like to be one of the many girls who had their lips against his. The air was so tense, so full of something you couldn’t explain. Just a few centimeters. Was he leaning in too?

He moved back.

“Medicine for your head, and you have a little bit of a fever so there’s something for that too.” Oikawa spoke. His voice sounded deeper, but maybe you were just thinking things. A small cough from him. He put pills into your hand. “You get something to drink. I’ll start picking up trash, you’re on…”

“Cups and cans duty.” You finished. It was always the routine. “Thank you.”

“Don’t slack off too much, you fucking drunk.” He joked, smiling at you with a trash bag in his hand.

You rolled your eyes at him, throwing the nearest empty can at him. You smiled, but your heart was aching.

The first time Oikawa had ever thrown a party, it was a disaster.

People flooded the house, though it was only supposed to be a small get-together and ended up a huge banger. The school talked about it for a while. An increase in his popularity.

The two of you were left to pick up the mess.

“Where the fuck do we start?” you asked, staring into the abyss that was once his living room.

“I’ll pick up the garbage and you pick up the cans and bottles?” Oikawa suggested. “If my mom finds any alcoholic beverage in this house she will pelt me with my own volleyballs.”

“I’ll help too.” Oikawa’s older brother said from the doorway, trashbag in hand. “Let’s get to work. We only have until six.”

Matsukawa soon joined your routine.

For the past month or so, Iwaizumi would eat lunch with you in the library as you studied for the entrance exams. Oikawa would join sometimes, or he would come right before lunch was over. He liked to eat lunch in the cafeteria, liked to “have that break from studies”. You two didn’t mind, you got more done without him distracting anyway.

Matsukawa had become your third-party during Lunch Study Dates. You didn’t complain, and you didn’t ask the two of them what exactly their relationship was. You joked with Iwaizumi that you were simply there to hide the fact they never stopped flirting. He would just laugh.

“Wait, you almost kissed?” Iwaizumi asked, studies long forgotten.

“I think so, yeah.” You kept your eyes on your paper. “It was weird, and the air was super heavy. And he hasn’t talked to me since. Not even while we were cleaning.”

“Not even a text?” Matsukawa asked.

“Not even a wave in the hallway.”

“Now that’s weird.”

“You’re telling me.” You finally looked up. “I.. Nothing has ever happened between us like that. Ever. And it was so out of nowhere, like, you would think our first almost kiss would be some cool moment or something. But it was just us, and I was hungover as fuck, and we just spent the rest of the afternoon in silence. And all that there has been since is just that. Silence.”

“I’m sorry, love.” Matsukawa reached over to place his hand over your wrist. “You know what. Tooru is an idiot. He is. I would have kissed you.”

“You’re gay.”

“And I would’ve kissed you. That’s the highest compliment you can receive. Accept it, woman.”

Growing up with Tooru Oikawa, you knew many things about the boy that many didn’t. You knew that he always put extra syrup on his pancakes and waffles, you knew that he always preferred hot showers rather than the cold ones his mother always tells him to take for soreness, and you knew that he practiced more than anyone could imagine.

He grew up with a volleyball attached to his side. He set it whenever he could, he would serve it into your yard (and then go get it and serve it back into his). He would ask you to join, but you always just watched.

Growing up with Tooru Oikawa also made you witness his growth. And you think that’s another reason you fell in love with him.

His passion was indescribable. You couldn’t count how many times people (including yourself) have told him to relax, take a day off, remind him to eat and drink. But his heart was in it, no matter how much it distracted him from daily fleets. You admired him for that.

You didn’t have that Thing growing up. You tried a lot of different things, different hobbies and sports and classes. But you never had that thing that you had so much passion for that you had to remind yourself to breathe.

One week of silence. One week of nothing from your best friend. Not a text, a call, a smile sent your way. Not even an eye contact.

It was strange. Your entire life had revolved around being around him, your routine included smiling and walking with him in the hallway, fixing his tie in the morning.

He was already in class when you came to school. And his tie was straight.

You decided to spend most of your free time in the library, knowing that Oikawa didn’t find himself in there very often. If he was going to avoid you without an explanation, you could avoid him just as hard and for just as long. That was your logic.

Iwaizumi joined you, plopping himself down on the couch beside you. It sat in the back of the library, in the corner away from everything. You were being Sad TM.

It was so stupid, of course. To be upset or sad about something that didn’t even happen; at something that almost happened but never did. Iwaizumi reminded you that it wasn’t about the near kiss, but the silence after.

A body appeared out of thin air in front of you. You wouldn’t mistake the boy for anyone in the world.

“’Kawa.” You said, looking up. He looked way taller from your position on the couch. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He said. No “nut” this time. He fidgeted with his fingers. “Can I get my jersey back? The one you wear to the games?”

Your eyes shot up.

“’M sorry?”

“Can I get my jersey back?” he asked again.

You felt Iwaizumi put his hand on your thigh. You must’ve been shaking. One week of complete silence and complete rejection and absence only to be met with the break of a tradition.

“Um, yeah.” You blinked. “Yeah. I have it at home, I can stop by later and give it to you.”

“Just bring it tomorrow. Before the game.” He spoke. But his voice didn’t sound like his. It was forced. Since when was talking to you a task?

“O.. Okay.”

A pinky promise was something taken very seriously. As kids, it was treated with the upmost respect and honor.

It was middle school, and the team announced that for a special tournament, and for school spirit, that the players would pick their best friend to wear their jersey to the games.

Oikawa immediately came to you with his “away” jersey, proudly holding it up. “Pinky promise me that you will always wear my jersey to my games!”

“Pinky promise!” you had told him.

You wore the jersey as you wrapped your pinky around his. Wearing his jersey became one of your favorite parts of going to his games.

Guess in high school, pinky promises don’t mean the same thing.

The thing about Tooru Oikawa is he never dates. This was something you knew for certain. He has never once had an official girlfriend, and he always talked about how he never planned on having one (“They’re both a distraction and a big responsibility,” he would say. “Besides, what would I need a girlfriend for when I already have a girl who does everything for me?” he would add).

Which is why you were surprised to see him hand in hand with a very familiar girl later that day. The long perfect brown hair, the long legs. After seven days of not speaking to you, he had a girl wrapped around his arm as though it was the most casual thing of him to be doing.

You stopped in front of them, trying your very best to hide your confusion.

“Oh!” he smiled, saying your name. Acting as though he hadn’t just asked you to turn in something that had meant something important to your friendship (at least it did to you). “You haven’t met Sana. My girlfriend.”

The aforementioned girl, Sana, smiled at you. Perfect teeth, of course. She gave a slight bow before reaching out her hand. Girlfriend.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve been waiting to meet Tooru’s best friend!”

You forced a smile as you shook her hand. “Nice to meet you too, Sana.”

You looked over her shoulder, to Oikawa (who looked nervous, fidgety in fact), and to Iwaizumi and Matsukawa (who stood a bit further away, but just as shook and confused as you).

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