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vannahfanfics · 2 years

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The Boyfriend Treatment

Word Count: 6220

Idol AU, Romance, Fluff, Fake Dating to Real Dating

Summary: Koushi's client Tooru Oikawa—an up-and-coming pop idol—infuriates him and looks too damn good doing it. The entire time Tooru's in Koushi's salon chair, they bicker. That's why he's completely and utterly floored when the idol asks him to be his pretend boyfriend for an upcoming gala. Koushi agrees, but with one stipulation--he wants the boyfriend treatment, through and through. He'll get what he wants, though not quite in the way he expects...

Here’s my story for the OiSuga Big Bang! I had a lot of fun with this one! Please do be sure to check out the art my partner Artax did, and a shoutout to my beta Bri too!

I hate you. I totally, completely, unequivocally hate you.

They were words that Koushi could only utter within his head, but utter them he did, every morning that he gazed at Tooru Oikawa’s gorgeous face. The pretty brunet, totally unaware of the vitriol bubbling within Koushi’s body, would just flutter his lashes and smirk as he lounged in the salon chair. He had his legs spread and feet kicked up on Koushi’s vanity as if he owned the place. This was Koushi’s mobile studio, damn it! Just because he was Tooru Oikawa’s personal stylist and was carted around to every performance venue that the idol went to didn’t mean he could just prop his stupid little loafers on his freshly-sanitized counter!

And so that’s why Koushi had no qualms about pushing Tooru’s feet down so he could spill his make-up and hair tools over the vanity.

“As energetic as ever, I see, Koushi,” Tooru tutted with a click of his tongue. Though his tone seemed petulant, it was as much a farce as the rest of Tooru’s persona; that smirk continued to dance on his lips, and the mischievous gleam in his eyes was nearly blinding. “Eager to work your magic?”

“Tch. How many times have I told you not to put your feet on my vanity, Oikawa-san?”

“And how many times have I told you to drop the formalities? Call me ‘Tooru’!” The pout that Tooru always gave him when he said that always seemed the most real. But one could never tell with Tooru; he was as clever as they came, devilishly manipulative with a remarkable penchant for human nature. He had everyone on the production team wrapped around his slender little finger—everyone except Koushi, that is. So that is why Koushi refused to do as bid every time, for he didn’t know if Tooru was truly upset that Koushi refused familiarity or if he just didn’t like that Koushi refused to listen to him.

Either way, it pissed him off, and Koushi liked that.

“I will not,” Koushi sniffed. He grabbed a bottle of hairspray and shook it to evaluate the contents; Tooru’s hair was naturally fluffy and easy to work with (damn him), and so he never needed to use much; more than once had he found himself running out without realizing it, and he did not want to deal with the hassle of sending an assistant to hurry to the nearest salon to get more while Tooru jeered about it in his little salon chair throne like some sort of spoiled brat king. Luckily, he had plenty to work with. At least he would be spared one annoyance today, out of the myriad Tooru would be sure to inflict upon him throughout the appointment.

“Ah, you wound me so, Koushi,” Tooru sighed. He splayed his hand out over his heart, as if Koushi’s harshness had literally inflicted a mortal wound. “I had thought you would recognize how I feel about you by now… After all, not every idol is so adamant about having a personal stylist. I chose you because I have faith in your abilities, you know.”

“If you ‘have faith in my abilities,’ why do you complain so much?” Koushi huffed and stepped behind Tooru to begin teasing a comb through his hair. Though he oh so wanted to, he refrained from purposefully yanking on the young man’s tawny locks. He had his pride as a stylist, even with a pampered idol like Tooru.

Tooru’s eyes continued to glitter at him through the reflection in the mirror.

“What do you mean? I always praise your work!”

“Yeah, with back-handed insults. ‘Ah, Koushi, that eye shadow is magnificent! But you could have gone a little smokier, don’t you think?’ or ‘Wow, look at that highlight! Do you think the lights will compliment it, though, or will it get washed out?’” Koushi mocked, raising his voice a few octaves in a squeaky parody of Tooru’s voice. The idol’s smirk finally dissolved, falling into a sordid frown. It looked like the most genuine pout yet.

“I’m just anxious, you know… Pre-performance nerves can have quite an effect on one’s personality.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Koushi countered. He snatched up the hairspray and layered it into Tooru’s hair in just a way to make that swoop of his bangs seem natural and effortless. “You are so confident that it’s pretentious.”

“You mean ‘almost’ pretentious?”

“Did I say almost?”

Tooru suddenly barked out a laugh. It took Koushi by surprise—usually, in this banter, Tooru would pretend to sulk a little before getting right back to digging under Koushi’s skin. But no, this time, he laughed, and quite a lot, too. Koushi just had to watch in stunned silence, holding up the comb and can of hairspray, as Tooru tipped back his head and shook his shoulders with hearty cackles. After a minute or so, he settled into little giggles. When he looked over his shoulder, his eyes were gleaming more than Koushi had ever seen.

“And that, dear Koushi, is why you are the perfect one to play my boyfriend.”

The comb and hair spray bottle hit the floor with two loud thunks.

“Excuse me?”

Tooru turned around in the salon chair. He stretched his legs out on either side of Koushi, his knees bumping Koushi’s calves.

“You heard me,” he said, his eyes never leaving Koushi’s as the gleam in his eyes intensified and his characteristic smirk made a home on his thin lips once more. “I have an event coming up, and I want you to act as my boyfriend.”

Koushi blinked, then looked down at the comb and hairspray sitting on the floor. He then looked back up at Tooru.

“Huflanahauwah?”

“I don’t know what language that was, but I’m going to assume that means ‘yes,’” Tooru smirked. Koushi’s brain finally caught up with the absurd situation, and he stumbled away from Tooru with his arms pinwheeling.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up!” he cried and made an X sign with his arms. “Your boyfriend?!”

“Relax, it’s not like I’m asking you out for real,” Tooru sniffed. “You just have to play the part for one night. This is the biggest gala of the year. There is no way I can show my face without a date!” His serious expression turned into another one of those infuriating smirks. “If you do a good job, I might even give you a little thank-you kiss.”

“You bring those things near me, and I’ll cut them off,” Koushi warned with a stern point of his finger. Tooru barked another laugh, which only made Koushi’s pout sour more.

“I’m just kidding. Well, about the kiss. Not about you being my boyfriend for a night,” Tooru said. He rose from the chair, and ugh, he looked too good doing it. Koushi had never liked how Tooru was taller than him, and as the handsome idol strutted up to him, he compulsively straightened up. Koushi expected Tooru to snicker about it, but his expression turned serious. “Look… I’m at a critical point in my career right now. There’s judgment from all sides; you know that. You know the tabloids will have a field day if I show up to the gala alone!”

“You mean like the field day they’ll have if you show up with a date?!” Koushi countered. He knew that it would be much better for Tooru if he did, but damn it, he didn’t want him to be right! Tooru simply gave him a simpering look, and Koushi let out a disgusted huff as he crossed his arms and turned away from Tooru. He couldn’t think straight with that aggravatingly handsome face staring at him.

Ugh… I can’t believe he sprung this on me after fixing his hair! Now I can’t make him look like an idiot out of revenge, he thought as he pinched his chin between his index finger and thumb. His gaze slowly drifted back to Tooru, who was just watching him with an intense expression. He seems to be serious… And I know how ruthless the paparazzi can be. Ugh, but of all people, why me?

Tooru seemed to read his mind.

“You’re the perfect one to take!” he said with a smile. The smile was placid, tinted with unhappiness that gave Koushi pause. “Of all people… I trust you, Koushi.”

The statement took Koushi aback. Trusts… me? Sure, a deep bond of trust existed between a client and their stylist, but asking them to pose as their boyfriend at a gala? And he trusts me?

Yeah, that was the point that Koushi was fixating on. Never mind the ludicrousness of the entire situation. Tooru trusted him.

And that’s why he heaved a sigh and said, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“I knew I could count on you!” Tooru trilled. He actually scampered up to Koushi to take his hands and give them a tight squeeze, all while looking down at him with an absolutely delighted expression.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Koushi said quickly and pulled back, his nose scrunching up. “I’ve got some stipulations, though. I’m not gonna be some decoration piece that you just ditch when the cameras are gone, got it? I want the whole boyfriend treatment!” he asserted. If he was gonna be dragged along to some snooty gala, then damn it, he was going to get pampered. “Your ass better pick me up in a limo and show me off like the man candy I am!” As he firmly pointed down at the floor, Tooru laughed again.

“Everything you want and more,” Tooru cooed. He batted those stupidly pretty eyelashes at him, and Koushi scrunched up his face as the bile crawled up the back of his throat. Tooru chuckled at his expression of distaste, then reached up to pat his cheek affectionately. “I’ll pick you up on Saturday at six. Be sure to get all dolled up for me, ‘kay?”

“Be sure to get all dolled up for me,” Koushi mocked while shoving him aside to pick up his tools from the floor. “Whatever, just get your ass back in this chair so I can do your make-up. Wouldn’t want you walking out on stage looking like that.”

“Aw, you make it sound like I’m ugly,” Tooru said with a playful pout. As he walked back toward the chair, Koushi bonked him on the head with the can of hairspray.

“Your words, not mine.”

Tooru just settled back into the chair with another chuckle. And as Koushi worked his magic, those gleaming brown eyes reflected in the mirror lingered on him all the while…

Koushi lingered on his porch, fingering the silver cufflinks decorating the white sleeves of his dress shirt. He breathed in, and the cool night air rushed into his lungs. It ruffled the curls of silvery-brown hair framing his face and plucked at the starched fabric of his pale blue suit. It was a little tighter than he remembered; it had been quite a long time since he’d worn it. It’s not like he had much time to, galloping across the country to make sure Tooru didn’t go out on stage looking like a sleepy teenager.

Wait, did he look like a sleepy teenager? Frowning, he turned to inspect himself in the small window in his front door. He tugged at his tie, loosening it a little around his neck. Well, he thought he looked rather nice… But will Tooru think I look nice? His pout deepened, and he peered closer to the window while he batted a few strands of hair in his bangs around. Wait, why am I even concerned about hi—

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Tooru’s reflection suddenly appeared in the window next to his.

“Well, well,” Tooru hummed after Koushi whipped around. He stood in front of Koushi, hands in his pockets while his gaze slowly roved up and down his form. Koushi felt his ears burn at the scrutinization. “You sure clean up well. And to think, I was worried.”

“Worried?” Koushi scoffed. “I’m the one who makes you look good. How dare you insinuate that I have poor fashion sense. Matter of fact, I’m going back inside.” As Koushi turned around to reach for the doorknob, Tooru hastily stepped forward and grabbed his elbow.

“All right, all right, no more jokes at the expense of your fashion sense,” Tooru laughed. Koushi begrudgingly allowed him to turn him around, and as he just looked at him with an unimpressed expression, Tooru batted those long, pretty, annoying eyelashes at him. “Now… Shall we get going?” he said and held out his arm.

When Koushi cocked a brow at the gesture, Tooru responded with a smirk. “You wanted the ‘boyfriend treatment,’ remember? I’m to—ah, how did you put it? Oh—show you off like the man candy you are.”

Koushi’s face immediately began to burn, red-hot like his head was being held to a roaring fire. He had phrased it that way, hadn’t he? Oh, curse him and the weird things that came out of his mouth when he was flustered. But Koushi was nothing if not one to double down on his assertions, and so he held his head up high as he linked elbows with him. Tooru didn’t move, however, but rather clicked his tongue and gave Koushi an expectant look. Koushi rolled his eyes, then obediently repositioned his arm so that he was instead clutching onto Tooru’s forearm like a good little escort.

“So,” Koushi said in a small sigh as Tooru began to escort him down to the limo parked on the curb, “what exactly is this event? If it were anything your P.R. agent had come up with, then I would have been hired to do your hair and make-up.”

“Astute as always,” Tooru quipped in response. They had reached the limousine, so Tooru refrained from answering to thank the chauffeur instead when he opened the door for him. Koushi slipped his arm free of Tooru’s so he could slide into the limousine; good God, did the leather feel divine—enough to make Koushi bite down on his bottom lip to suppress a little whimper. And seats weren’t the half of it—a bottle of champagne sat on ice in a middle console. The glasses hanging nearby clinked together from the subtle rocking of the vehicle as Tooru climbed in. A strip of LED lighting even bordered the roof of the vehicle, glowing a bright sapphire blue. Koushi was so overwhelmed by the sheer affluence that he had forgotten he’d asked Tooru a question, so he jumped when the boy spoke up again.

“Actually, I specifically told my agent that I wouldn’t be using your services for this event,” Tooru said. His smirk looked all the more devilish in the bold blue lighting. Koushi was too puzzled to be offended, and he indicated so by just arching a brow. “You see, I already was intending on bringing you,” Tooru explained. “Like I said, this gala is one of the largest events of the year—but it is a private event, which is why you probably didn’t know about it.”

It made sense. Koushi had run through his entire repertoire of knowledge on events for pop stars, and he’d come up empty. There was nothing in the public sphere that should be occurring on this particular night.

“The gala is held by a private investor in record companies,” Tooru continued, looking away from Koushi as he leaned forward to pluck the bottle of champagne from the bucket of ice. “Every year, he invites the top names in entertainment—” He was interrupted by the loud pop of the cork blasting somewhere off into the limo, “—to evaluate how he is going to manage his stake in various companies for the upcoming year.”

“Shrewd businessman,” Koushi huffed, to which Tooru replied with a chuckle. The idol poured a glass of the pale, bubbling alcohol and offered it to Koushi. He normally wasn’t much of a drinker, but spending an entire night with this guy was going to require him to be at least a little drunk for the sake of his sanity. So he took it, and as he sipped at it, Tooru poured himself a glass.

“Famous artists from around the world will be there, and with them, their representative media,” Tooru said as he straightened back up, glass in hand. “And they’re going to be extra vicious, snatching at any little crumb of information—or assumption—that they can sell.”

“And one of the lowest hanging fruits is idols who aren’t dating anyone,” Koushi surmised. Tooru gave him a little toast with his glass, then tipped his head back to down the entire thing in one go. If the conversation and the circumstances weren’t obvious enough, then it was a prime indicator that Tooru was in fact very nervous about this gala.

Koushi thought again of the fact that Tooru said that he could trust him. Now, he actually kind of believed it.

Tooru smacked his lips when he pulled them away from the glass, looking like it hadn’t eased his anxiety at all. But he refrained from pouring himself another, instead setting the glass down in the middle console and then reclining back against the leather seat with a sigh. He rolled his head on his neck in that languid way of his to gaze at Koushi through lidded eyes. The moment of vulnerability was gone. He was back to the same old Tooru, that unreadable smirk placid on his pretty face.

“Well,” Koushi sighed and looked down into his half-drunk glass of champagne. This situation was still so surreal for him; he had always existed on the border of Tooru’s world, close enough to learn the lessons but never too far in to have to need them. Now, however, he was like a lamb being thrust into a den of lions—all at Tooru’s behest. There was a lot he was unsure of. In fact, there was only one thing he was sure of.

To survive among lions, become as the lions.

A strange protectiveness had begun to brew deep in his belly. There was no way that he was going to give any ammunition to the paparazzi. There was only one person that was authorized to give Tooru hell, and that was him. And so, determination burned in his eyes when he lifted his gaze back to the idol’s.

“Well then, I suppose all that’s left to say is that we’re gonna make this a night to remember.”

Tooru’s face split into a wolfish grin of pure delight—and a faint hint of relief, too. Koushi could see the tension melt from his body just a bit as he sank further into the plush of the leather seats.

“I knew I could count on you,” Tooru cooed with a wink. Then he turned his head to look out the window, watching the cityscape roll by. Koushi busied himself with nursing his champagne. However, he was not altogether unobservant, even in the company of one he knew so well; so he could feel every time when Tooru’s eyes would shift in such a way that he was watching Koushi through the window’s reflection, feel how they lingered on him before slowly shifting away.

This is going to be a long night, he thought, then sucked down the last of the champagne. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed about it. In fact, he was strangely looking forward to it. How often did one get to strut around a party with one of Japan’s best idols on your arm?

Not just an idol, though, Koushi thought and looked at Tooru out of his peripheral vision. It’s him.

And as he met Tooru’s eyes in the reflection and they both smiled a little, Koushi had to admit that it wasn’t that much of a terrible thing.

“Whoooaaaaaa…”

Koushi couldn’t help but ogle as the limousine drove through the wrought-iron gate and began to trundle down the long, winding paved driveway leading up to the investor’s mansion. Koushi had seen mansions before, of course, given his line of work. But this place made those mansions look like dollhouses. Even just the garden was so massive that Koushi’s eyes, wide as they were, simply couldn’t drink it all in. His awestruck gaze bounced from the bubbling five-tier fountains to the marble sculptures to the ornate topiaries to the pristine landscaping and back—and that was all in the first few seconds of the driveway. He had to flop back against the seat with a huff, lest his brain explode from the sheer amount of money just outside his window.

“And you call me pretentious,” Tooru snickered, then reached over to pat him on the knee a couple of times. “Fix your face,” he said and looked out the window, eyes narrowed. “We’re almost there. We won’t get very far if you’re dazzled by everything.”

“Right, right,” Koushi said. He ran his hands over his face a few times, literally smoothing the stupefied look off his face. He breathed in, then out, then back in again. Okay. Gotta get serious. He never thought he’d be so adamant about protecting Tooru’s image from the paparazzi, but life was funny like that. For better or for worse, he’d made the commitment, and now it was time to see it through.

Become as the lions, he reminded himself once more when the limousine came to a stop.

“Here we go,” Tooru sighed under his breath as the shadow of the chauffeur appeared in the window. That was the only moment of preparation they were granted before the door pulled open, and what seemed like the entire world burst forth to greet them.

It seemed like all traces of Tooru’s apprehension had melted away—in fact, it seemed like he hadn’t been nervous in the first place. He stepped out of the limousine languidly, apparently unperturbed by the massive crowd of fans and media writhing on either side of the red carpet with only a handful of suited guards and some velvet ropes holding them back. That cocksure smirk that was Tooru’s claim to fame danced on his lips as he strutted forward a few paces, making a show of adjusting the ruffled collar of his button-up shirt. He didn’t so much as squint against the bright flashes of the countless cameras, nor did he heed the cacophony of squeals and screams and shouted questions. Instead, he smiled serenely and turned around to offer Koushi his hand.

Koushi was sure it was more for show than for his benefit, but he was grateful for it anyway. If he didn’t have something to ground him right now, he was going to literally be blown away by all the noise. Koushi had seen stuff like this from a distance. Thrust into the thick of it, however, he had to marvel at how Tooru could face this several times a week and not go insane. Koushi’s head spun, his senses overwhelmed by all the flashing lights and moving bodies and deafening sounds; though he was still sitting on the edge of the seat, he felt like he was falling.

His hand was shaky and clammy as he slid it into Tooru’s. Tooru clutched onto it tightly as he held Koushi out of the car, and he didn’t let go once he was on his feet; instead, he used it as leverage to pull Koushi close enough to slither his arm around his waist. It allowed Koushi to subtly lean his weight against him so the stumble in his steps was barely noticeable. As they began to walk down the red carpet, Tooru turned his head to put his lips close to Koushi’s ear.

“You’re doing just fine,” he murmured. Though Koushi couldn’t see his expression—he was too busy looking ahead so he didn’t trip over his own damn feet—Tooru’s voice was laced with too much sympathy to be fake. “Just relax.” Koushi’s lashes fluttered at the feeling of Tooru’s lips brushing against the shell of his ear. It felt too nice for him to really consider how intimate the whole thing was.“I’m right here…”

Tooru’s soothing voice called him back from the dizzying precipice of panic. He rubbed soft circles into the small of his back as Koushi came down, face still close as he continuously surveyed Koushi’s expression for any indication he was slipping back into the anxiety attack. Once it felt like his feet were finally on solid ground, Koushi sighed shakily, then peered up at him.

“Better?” Tooru asked gently. He regarded Koushi with a soft smile and glittering eyes—there was no discernible judgment in his expression at all, just reassurance thinly veiling concern.

That’s the first time that Koushi considered that maybe he didn’t know as much about Tooru as he thought he did.

“I’m okay,” Koushi exhaled. There was still a slight tremor in his voice from the lingering adrenaline, but otherwise, he felt back to normal. Well, as normal as one could be when surrounded by drooling fangirls and bloodthirsty reporters. “Heh,” he smirked wanly, suddenly recalling why he was even there in the first place. “Some pretend boyfriend I make, huh?”

“Oh, no, it’s quite fine,” Tooru quipped. He was beginning to shift back to his familiar self too, that smirk dancing over his lips again. “They think I’ve been whispering sweet nothings into your ear this entire time.”

As he said it, one of the reporters slung herself over the velvet lines to get her camera in front of them.

“Oikawa-san, Oikawa-san, is this your boyfriend?” she demanded to know in a high-pitched shriek. Without waiting for an answer, she began to rapidly snap photos. Koushi’s face flooded red, especially when he felt Tooru’s wolfish smirk against the side of his head. He didn’t have to look up to know that the look on the idol’s face was downright devilish.

“Sure is,” Tooru said, the words rolling off his tongue like thick honey. “He’s making his public debut.” And though the statement probably didn’t need punctuating, Tooru did it—by nipping playfully at the lobe of Koushi’s ear.

Koushi jumped at the sensation of Tooru’s ears grazing his skin, and he was unable to keep a loud squeak from tearing out of his throat. The crowd went wild, a mixture of rabid curiosity and wailing despair beginning to thrum at the flimsy velvet ropes. Thankfully, they’d reached the doorway. Tooru ushered Koushi inside, then turned around to wink and wave adoringly at the crowd now spilling onto the red carpet.

“Ciao~ I’m going to show my baby a good time now <3” he crooned, then ducked into the door after Koushi. An armed guard rushed past him to control the crowd, the mahogany door shutting with a resounding clunk in the otherwise empty entryway. Despite the door’s thickness, the agitated screams of the crowd still bled through.

“Well, that ought to be enough to satisfy their curiosity for the evening,” Tooru chortled and adjusted his suit jacket.

“Sure, but biting my ear? Really?” Koushi grumped. His hands were covering both of them as he glowered at the idol. His frown just deepened when Tooru stuck out the tip of his tongue between his teeth and gave Koushi a racy, half-lidded smolder.

“Come on, don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” he teased. He sauntered up to Koushi and swiped the tip of his index finger down the bridge of his nose. “You know you did, just a little bit~”

The blush that spread over Koushi’s cheeks betrayed him. Yes, it had felt nice. Too nice. But that was not something he wanted to face right now, especially because he never imagined it would be something he would have to face. The frightening reality was that Koushi’s feelings for Tooru were something quite other than hate, and it was rapidly becoming harder to pretend that they weren’t.

He was acutely aware that his cheeks were probably as red as the roses blooming in the nearby vase, but that didn’t stop him from hunching his shoulders and stubbornly pouting up at Tooru.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he gruffed, then averted his gaze. It landed on the other end of the entryway, which lead into a ballroom. “Anyway, what are we standing around here for? Don’t you want to schmooze? That’s the whole point in being here.”

“You certainly are feeling better,” Tooru laughed. “Eager to be shown off like man candy, huh?” Koushi wanted to smile at his jab, but there was a certain strain in Tooru’s voice that stopped him short.

Tooru offered up his arm again, which Koushi begrudgingly took. It would be a good while before they could drop the whole boyfriend act, after all. With a contented hum, Tooru slid his other hand into his pants pocket, then began to walk them toward the ballroom. However, he stopped right before they walked in, prompting Koushi to look up at him quizzically. Tooru wasn’t looking at him; he was looking out into the ballroom with this strangely pensive but melancholic expression. They stood there like that for at least half a minute.

“I know this is the last thing you want to be doing,” Tooru sighed finally, tearing his gaze away from the ballroom to look down at him. He was smiling, but it wasn’t real; it was that forced smile that Koushi had seen many, many times. “But thanks for coming with me, Koushi.”

Why did he sound so sad about it?

Before Koushi could ask, Tooru set off in a quick stride, all but pulling him into the room. And the question was left behind, lingering in the air unasked.

The ballroom, though crowded, was much calmer than the entrance since no media was permitted inside. The musicians and performers—all dressed to the nines—milled about, chatting idly to one another while sipping on glasses of wine or snacking on hors d'oeuvres that were being peddled around by tuxedoed waiters. A string quartet played in the corner, while a pair of bartenders manned a full open bar on the back wall. Most of the space was occupied by tables shrouded in silk tablecloths and chairs, but a small space was cleared in the middle to serve as a dance floor.

Tooru obviously had a destination in mind, but Koushi planted his heels against the waxed floor, stopping them short. Tooru whipped his head around, mouth open with the question about to fall off his tongue, but a strangled yelp came out instead when Koushi wrenched him by his arm. He marched him over to the dance floor, ignoring the curious glances of the few couples dancing around them as he planted himself right in the middle and glowered at Tooru with his arms crossed.

Fuck the investor dude. Koushi wanted to get to the bottom of this, now. If his idol was going to be trying to smooth-talk a multi-billionaire, then he had to have his head in the game.

That’s what he told himself, anyway, to avoid the truth—that he was worried about Tooru.

“Um… What about the schmoozing?” Tooru blinked.

“I don’t care about the schmoozing,” Koushi answered with a haughty head waggle. He turned up his nose, his eyes glinting like hard gems of brown tourmaline as he asserted, “I said I wanted the whole boyfriend treatment, remember? Well, your boyfriend wants a dance.”

Tooru looked at him incredulously, then looked over his shoulder, like he couldn’t believe Koushi was speaking to him and so there surely must be someone behind him. But no, Koushi was most definitely speaking to him. He fiddled with his collar when he turned back to Koushi, looking equal parts amused and bashful. Bashful wasn’t an expression Koushi thought he would ever get Tooru to wear, and he was admittedly a little proud of it.

“Well, I promised the whole package, didn’t I?” Tooru sighed and obediently stepped up to him. Koushi just continued to pout adamantly as Tooru took his arms gently by the wrist to rearrange their limbs into a waltz position. He grinned slightly, then intertwined the fingers of the hands they held up in the air. “I’d hate to fall short of your expectations.”

Koushi just sniffed, and then, they were moving in slow, languid circles around the dance floor. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he debated just how to broach the topic. He may be a bit blunt at times, but even he was well aware that there were certain ways to go about some things. He probably could think of something pretty eloquent if it weren’t for Tooru staring at him like that, though.

Like Koushi had hung the moon and stars for him. Like Tooru would do the same if he asked. Like Tooru believed in his heart that Koushi never would.

“Tooru,” Koushi murmured finally. Tooru’s eyes widened. Koushi used his name. Koushi didn’t let him dwell on that; he arched a brow, a silent adamance that Tooru just start talking instead of making Koushi put him through an awkward inquisition. Tooru’s practiced smirk morphed into a sad smile, and he dropped his gaze to their shifting feet.

“I can hide things from the whole world, but I can’t hide them from you, can I, Koushi?” His chuckle was rueful, and Koushi didn’t like that, not one bit.

“Of course not,” Koushi murmured. Tooru still refused to look up at him, so Koushi leaned forward to nose at his jaw softly. He was close, too close to ever dream of missing the way Tooru sucked in a breath. Koushi did it again, and like called in by a silent siren song, Tooru’s gaze slowly drifted up to meet his. “I know you better than anyone. So tell the truth—this was never about the paparazzi or the investor, was it?”

“No,” Tooru admitted. He opened his mouth, then closed it before the words came out, pressing his lips together in a thin line. It was several seconds before he continued quietly, “I thought that just one night of pretend would make me stop missing what I won’t ever have. But now I just miss it more.”

They weren’t dancing anymore. They just stood in the center of the dance floor, the world moving around them. Tooru stared despondently at Koushi as he pulled his hand off Koushi’s shoulder to caress his cheek—but his fingers stopped short, just twitching in the air before falling back down. It was obvious what he wanted.

Did Koushi know what he wanted?

…Yes. Yes, he did. And he’d wanted it for a while now.

“That confidence of yours—” Koushi sighed, nudging the bottom of Tooru’s chin with his nose as it threatened to fall again. “—is going to get you into trouble, you know.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Tooru stammered. His eyes were wide, and he pulled his head back a little, looking like he simultaneously wanted to run away but also wanted nothing more but to get even more in Koushi’s personal space. Koushi made the choice for him.

“It’s stupid to assume you won’t have something when you never asked in the first place,” Koushi answered matter-of-factly while he brought his face up to hover right in front of Tooru’s. Their lips were mere centimeters apart, so close that Koushi had to tilt his head a little to keep their noses from bumping together. Tooru’s eyes fluttered in confusion, and then he closed his mouth to swallow thickly.

“I thought you hated me.”

“Believe me, you get under my skin in the most irritating ways,” Koushi snorted, and Tooru’s lips quirked up into a tiny smile. “But I don’t hate you.

I love you. I totally, completely, unequivocally love you. Even if you’re a pretentious bastard.”

Tooru’s laugh was breathy, breezing past his lips. His smile was warm as he looked down at Koushi in pure and utter adoration.

“Now who’s the one with the backhanded compliments?” he chuckled.

“Oh, can’t take what you dish out?” Koushi teased back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tooru just laughed. His eyes slowly roved over Koushi’s face, drinking in the fact that all of this was really happening. And then, in true Tooru fashion, he smirked. “So… I suppose we should get back to that boyfriend treatment, huh?” he asked in a husky whisper that sent a shudder up Koushi’s spine in the best way.

Tooru didn’t wait for Koushi to answer. This time, he didn’t hesitate to caress Koushi’s cheek, running his fingers oh-so-gently over his skin before cupping it in his palm. He took a moment to just stare, drinking in every minuscule detail of his face. When Koushi sniffed petulantly and pursed his lips in an impatient pout, Tooru chuckled softly.

“Impatient, are we?”

“You told the paparazzi you were gonna show me a good time, and I’m still waiting.”

“That I did,” Tooru chortled. This time, he didn’t keep Koushi waiting.

And as their mouths met in a sweet, lingering kiss, Koushi fancied that he definitely could get used to this boyfriend treatment.

#oisuga #sugaoi #sugawara x oikawa #oikawa x sugawara #koushi sugawara #sugawara koushi #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

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bnnywngs · 2 years

Text

the last voyage

rating: T words: 1432

pairing: Sugawara Koushi/Oikawa Tooru | oisuga

tags: alternate universe - end of the world, short & sweet, implied/referenced character death (in near future), established relationship, off screen collective panic, light angst, based on a song (A Última Viagem by the brazilian band Cômodo Marfim)

also on ao3

It was strangely cold when his alarm went off that morning and he could feel it even under the covers. He whined softly, still without opening his eyes, and took one of his arms out of the warm bubble so he could pick his cell phone and stop the noise he hated so much. He wondered why he said he'd meet his boyfriend so early when he was on vacation and finally had the time to get as much sleep as he wanted.

He turned off the alarm and looked at the clock in the center of the locked screen. Seven in the morning. At least it was two hours later than he normally woke up during his daily routine, as he’d decided the night before that he wouldn’t do his morning run. Yawning loudly, he went through his notifications and replied to messages he received while asleep, then choosing to spend a little time on his favorite social network.

There were some pictures of people he followed and he liked it all, moving on to the next publication without thinking twice, until he stopped at a newspaper repost that looked, honestly, straight out of an American fiction movie, but he recognized that journalist and unless they made a movie with a big budget and invited her to participate, then it couldn’t be a lie. But the news… It was a little too much to digest.

Intrigued, and somewhat concerned, he went to the newspaper’s official account and found the same video, and a few other publications that followed, all on the same subject. Pulling the blanket off him and sitting on the bed, he looked out the window and, even with the curtain covering it, he knew the other side wasn’t as bright as it should have been for the time.

He decided to look up more articles on the subject from other serious newspapers he knew by name, reading every word and growing increasingly incredulous and sick to his stomach. But before he could start to panic, the phone in his hand began to ring, a picture of his boyfriend filling the screen.

“Koushi.” he called, his voice shaking.

“Tooru.” his boyfriend called back, sounding calm “How long ago did you wake up?”

“A while… Do you want to talk about… About what's going on?” Oikawa decided to get out of bed, ignoring the slippers and walking barefoot to the window.

“...Yeah.” Sugawara sighed loudly against his phone’s microphone “What do you know? What did you see?"

“The sun… Koushi, is the sun dead?” he was looking up at the night-black sky, a few stars still shining in the sky, but no sign of the moon or the sun.

“It became a black hole.” he could almost hear Koushi moving on the other end of the call in that shrug he always did when he said something that seemed obvious.

“A black hole.” Oikawa laughed, feeling ridiculous hearing and speaking those words. How could something like this be real? This was not a science fiction movie! It’s real life!

A flock of birds flew over his house, screaming and flapping their wings as fast as they could, clearly running away from something they couldn't, but doing what they thought was the solution. Oikawa felt jealous of them for a moment.

“Koushi, are we going to die?” Oikawa’s voice was low and weak, showing all his fear.

“Tooru… I think so.”

That was a week ago and the world was in immeasurable chaos. The sky was still pitch black.

Many people he knew had already fled a long time ago, Oikawa didn't even know where and preferred not to find out. Newspapers just talked about the same thing, many journalists and staff in general had quit or just disappeared overnight. Governments publicly apologized for their mistakes, scientists apologized for ignoring or laughing when their few colleagues warned of the danger, thinking it was just miscalculation.

So many excuses and no solution.

The richest countries with resources to spare had already declared that they would select a few thousand people to board their fancy ships to who knows where. Unfortunately, poor countries that depended on so much and so many people would be left out, just a few rich people being “invited” to be part of this high, but at the same time so low, number of “rescues”.

Oikawa, his family, his friends, Sugawara and his family, and all their neighbors - none of them had been selected. It was to be expected, but knowing that didn't change the fact that they felt helpless, hopeless. They could only feel sadness and fear now. Oikawa’s parents had locked themselves inside a temple along with his grandparents and so many others to try to find some kind of salvation that he knew was non-existent.

His brother had taken his family to Rome, converting to Christianity to seek the same salvation as their parents in a different religion. Oikawa missed Takeru, however.

And now here he was, lying on the roof of Sugawara’s elementary school, a picnic blanket under his lying body, partially shielding him from the cold concrete after the work they did to clear snow and ice, two small portable heaters on either side of where he and his boyfriend were lying. They wore their warmest coats and placed two blankets over their legs. They had brought everything they could find in the small market in the neighborhood that was edible, the old man who had been the only one in the family to stay in town didn’t even charge them a coin, giving them a few courtesy lollipops as he waved and wished them a good day and good luck.

The small battery-powered radio that had once belonged to Sugawara’s grandfather played a song from a few decades ago, giving a pleasant mood to yet another day of darkness and freezing winds. The song ended and the broadcaster, another person who preferred to stay and continue life normally despite everything, gave another piece of news with a slightly choked voice.

“It’s three o’clock in the afternoon and in a few minutes the second last spacecraft will take off with about three thousand people on board. In total, around two hundred thousand people have already managed to escape Earth and it is expected that one more ship will be ready in a month or so to take more people and increase the number to at least three hundred thousand.” the broadcaster took a deep breath and gave a wet laugh “For us mere mortals trying not to hope in vain, how about we enjoy ourselves with more music? We got requests to play some K-Pop and that's what we’re going to hear now. Starting with HYO.”

Sugawara stood up quickly, turning up the volume and dragging his boyfriend to stand with him.

“Kou-chan?” Oikawa called, confused. He was almost asleep with his head resting on Sugawara's chest, listening to his heartbeat, when he was rudely awakened.

“Dance with me.” Sugawara flashed him a bright smile, holding his hand as he began to move in time to the upbeat music.

Oikawa laughed and tried to keep up with his boyfriend and at the same time tried to make him laugh with funny moves. He spun Sugawara around, bringing him back to his chest, and kissing his cheek in an exaggerated way. When the song ended, he sat on the towel, picking up one of the blankets, while Sugawara was still dancing excitedly, bursting out laughing as he tripped and almost fell over.

He watched his boyfriend for a while, a contented smile on his lips.

“Aren’t you afraid?” Oikawa asked.

“Afraid? Of what?” Sugawara looked at him over his shoulder.

“What can happen?” Oikawa shrugged, “That our death is closer.”

Sugawara rolled his eyes, “Everyone knew this day would come one day or another. Why be afraid?” he chuckled “I have you by my side, nothing else matters.”

Oikawa bit his lower lip, his heart clenching with the rush of emotions he felt at that moment.

“I love you, Kou-chan.” he said aloud.

“You do?” Sugawara laughed again, “I love you too.”

Oikawa chuckled, “Marry me?”

Sugawara stopped dancing, looking at him in surprise “Marry? Marry, marry? Are you serious?”

“Kou-chan. Koushi. Sugawara Koushi, let’s get married. Tomorrow! No need for rings, just the two of us.” Oikawa stood up, his foot getting caught in the blanket and making him fall into his boyfriend’s arms.

They smiled at each other, radiating happiness.

“Ok. Let’s get married tomorrow and live our last days together.” Sugawara nodded.

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