Work Text:
August 5 2021. 7.45PM, Ariake Olympic Arena.
(the span of a volleyball court)
The final play of the match - a beautiful setter dump, the ball falling like a comet onto their side of the net. Argentina wins. Oikawa’s eyes meet him in that instant, smoldering, and Tobio simply looks back, meeting his gaze. Lets him have the victory he had chased all those years.
Match over.
October 26 2012, 5.45PM, Sendai City Gymnasium.
(the width of the net)
“We’re even now,” Oikawa tells him through the net, dark lines criss-crossing over his face. His eyes are searing. Tobio nods. They pull away slowly and Tobio doesn’t watch him go. By now, he knows what Oikawa leaving looks like.
May 9 2009, 6.59PM, Kitagawa Daiichi Volleyball Gym.
(the height of the sky)
Tobio looks inside through the gym window. He can reach if he’s on his tiptoes. He sees Oikawa take his place behind the end line. The ball bounces once, twice on the ground.
He runs. He flies.
A boy reaching skyward, the heavens clenched in his fists, unleashed in seconds as his hand meets the ball and sends it ricocheting across the court. Oikawa plays like it’s religion, Tobio watches like it’s worship.
There was one really amazing player, Tobio had told his grandfather after his first day at Kitagawa Daiichi. Watching him now, his emotions twist until they become inseparable. Volleyball and Oikawa Tooru. Oikawa Tooru and volleyball. They fall into a rhythm as natural as breathing.
Oikawa sees him like this: fingertips red from clinging onto the windowsill that’s almost too high for him to reach, head straining upwards, eyes wide. When Oikawa looks at him, he smiles daggers, like he doesn’t care that Tobio is watching at all. He serves again.
When Oikawa finally leaves the gym, he doesn’t turn around. Tobio watches his retreating figure until his cobalt blue jacket melts into the night and Tobio can’t separate the boy from the sky anymore.
June 3 2012, 3.32PM, Sendai City Gymnasium.
(184.3 cm)
He lands hard, sharp pain shooting through his hips and elbows. The ball rolls quietly to a stop beside him. Oikawa stands in front of him, blocking out the gym lights. His face is dark. Tobio is on his back, looking up. From this angle, Oikawa is impossibly tall.
August 5 2021, 8.59PM, Ariake Olympic Arena.
(uncertain)
Tobio wonders about what it was in Oikawa’s expression. Argentina won . What more was there? What more was there for them?
Haven’t they spent their entire lives dancing around each other to get to this moment?
So what now?
What could you want from me?
Except Oikawa’s running after him once they’re after the game. “Tobio!” he calls out, and Tobio has lost count of the minutes and the miles that kept them apart, but in this moment Oikawa is barely three feet away. The closest they’ve ever been off the court.
“Tobio,” he says, eyes wide and hungry. Oikawa bites his lip. “Do you want to get a drink?”
October 26 2012, 5.54PM, Sendai City Gymnasium.
(the time it takes to catch your breath)
Tobio has always known, but now he is reminded:
Oikawa doesn’t ask. He gives. He takes. But he doesn’t ask.
“Were you watching?”
Because I was watching you.
Were you doing the same?
Tobio’s heart pounds. He had seen Oikawa split away from his team to go to the bathroom, and a plan unfurled in his head. He muttered an excuse and followed Oikawa inside, waiting silently until he was noticed.
Oikawa looks at him in bewilderment. “What?”
Tobio sticks out his chin and forces himself to glare at the other boy head-on. “Were you watching?”
The confusion melts off his face, replaced by a wicked grin and those eyes that burn and make Tobio’s heart race. “You little shit, ” he growls. Everything happens very quickly after that.
Hands on his shoulders. He is pushed back. Tobio trips over his feet. He doesn’t fall. The friction of the wall against his back is all that keeps him up. He gasps.
And then he’s being kissed.
Kissed.
Kissed.
He breathes Oikawa in, lets him fill his lungs, his veins in place of oxygen. Tobio sighs with the heady rush of adrenaline. At this moment, the distance between them vanishes. Oikawa is right under his skin, the back of his eyes, the ghostly outline of a jump serve that Tobio colors in. Tobio has echoes, pieces - and still, it’s not enough . He deepens the kiss, wanting-
Oikawa pulls away roughly. The air rushes out of Tobio’s lungs, leaving him gasping.
“ God, the things you do to me…” Oikawa’s hands are shaking. His voice is shaking.“Tell me to go, Tobio-chan. Tell me to go.”
Tobio shakes his head and presses his lips against Oikawa’s. He wraps his arms around Oikawa’s neck, pulling him close. He moans softly when Oikawa kisses back and pushes his knee in between Tobio’s thighs.
He gives. He takes. Tobio would never dream of saying no.
June 10 2009, 6.01PM, Sendai City Gymnasium.
(from the stands overlooking the court)
Tobio watches from the balcony as Oikawa accepts the award for the best setter. His heart skitters as he watches, insides twisting and twisting to spell out something he can’t quite decipher.
It was a little like a challenge, a little like want - yet more than either of them.
September 10 2009, Kitagawa Daiichi Volleyball Gym.
(inches)
Oikawa’s nails rake through the air, with a guttural shout. His face is contorted, streaked with sweat, and all too human.
“Calm down dumbass!” Iwaizumi yells, grabbing onto his hand and stepping in front of Tobio.
“I’m… I’m…” Oikawa gasps quietly as Iwaizumi glares at him. Tobio bows quickly and makes his way towards the exit. He casts one final backward glance to find Oikawa staring at the ground. He barely moves.
December 12 2021, 1.29AM, an apartment in Rome, Italy.
(the gap between expectation and reality)
“Tobio,” Oikawa whispers, as Tobio holds him close into his chest. “Tobio, Tobio, Tobio.” The simple litany of his name, spoken in soft reverence. Like a prayer. They had both been unreachable for far too long. Tobio holds him tighter and presses a kiss into Oikawa’s hair, murmuring reassurance.
They are new to this - to a love that needs to be careful rather than desperate, to a love that isn’t meant to be painful. For so long, all they had was violent desire. It was easy to fall into old habits.
But they will try again and again. This time, they will confess their sins in the dark of the night, seeking absolution in each other’s touch. This time, they will stay.
July 1 2023, 8.00AM, an apartment in Rome, Italy.
(a shared breakfast table)
“I loved you when you found me after Interhigh… the one we… lost, that is,” Oikawa confesses over breakfast. “I wanted you then, badly... but I didn’t understand how badly. I didn’t realize.” Oikawa takes a bite of his food and chuckles. “Iwa-chan was the one who got me to confess.”
Tobio raises an eyebrow. “Did he tell you to do it like that? ”
Oikawa makes a choked sound and Tobio smiles into his coffee.
August 5 2021, 9.20PM, Bar Brezza, Ariake District, Tokyo.
(a no man’s land of an empty bar table)
“Oikawa-san… why are we here?”
The bar bustles around them. It’s packed because of the games. They are lucky that they managed to snag a booth for themselves, even if the bar is busy enough that it offers no illusion of privacy.
They hadn’t said a word to each other since they sat down. The empty table stretches out between them. Oikawa rests his elbow on it, his eyes trained on the dark surface.
Tobio knows what he’s here for. He’s just not sure why.
“To talk,” Oikawa says quietly. He still doesn’t look at Tobio. “To make amends, to…”
Finally, Oikawa lifts his head and meets Tobio’s gaze. Tobio marvels at how open the other man’s expression is. A masquerade that has lasted years crumbles away right before his very eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Oikawa says. His shoulders are tensed, but his gaze is unwavering steel. “Tobio. I’m sorry.”
He can’t help it, Tobio’s mouth drops open slightly. Oikawa notices and gives him a sad smile before he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “You were… you were a kid, but I was… jealous. Cruel. I hurt you.”
“You did,” Tobio agrees softly. A pang goes through his chest. It feels like betrayal, even if it’s true.
Oikawa nods slowly. When he speaks, his voice is raw. It trembles like electricity across a bare wire. “It was never enough. I was never enough… all I wanted was to stand on the court. I thought you might take that away from me. I was scared, I lashed out at you and-” he breaks off, closing his eyes tight.
Tobio watches in something like horror. “Oikawa-san -”
Oikawa barks out a laugh. “ Oikawa-san . I’ve always been your Oikawa-san, haven’t I?” He shakes his head, wearing a mirthless smile. “And you were just, so…” He looks at Tobio, eyes impossibly soft and Tobio melts.
“Tobio, why did you kiss me?”
April 3 2010, 6.49PM, Kitagawa Daiichi Volleyball Gym.
(momentarily in reach)
The first time Tobio wanted to kiss Oikawa was the first time he did.
Tobio expects the gym to be silent on the last day of school, on the day that the third years are graduating, but the sound of a ball striking the ground still echoes from within. Like routine. Like religion.
He watches from the doorway. Oikawa serves again, again, again. Tobio watches him in wonder.
He’s not sure how much time has passed before Oikawa is resting his hands on his knees, glistening sweat dripping down his nose.
Oikawa turns to see him standing there and he scowls. “The least you could do is help me clean up,” he says, throwing a ball at Tobio.
They clean up the gym in silence. In the semi-dark of the storage room, Oikawa is turned away from Tobio. They’re barely a foot apart. Tobio has never been more aware of the lack of space between them.
“What were you even doing out there? Stalking me? Fuck’s sake Tobio-chan.” Oikawa’s voice is low, as though he’s talking to himself rather than actually asking Tobio. He turns to Tobio, looking at him, looking, and he smirks. “What - are you in love with me or something?”
Sometimes, you don’t know the answer till you’ve been asked the question.
Tobio doesn’t care what the distance between them is, all he knows is that it’s too much.
He takes a step forward, hands grabbing onto the front of Oikawa’s jacket. He kisses him desperately, quickly. He kisses the way hands grasp for a lifeline even when there is nothing, even when they know they’re drowning, there’s no way they’ll survive but they just have to-
Hands grab onto his shoulders and push him away. He crashes into a shelf and tumbles onto the floor. When he looks up, Oikawa’s expression is furious. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spits out. But his eyes never leave Tobio’s. Tobio meets his gaze. I meant it, he says wordlessly.
Oikawa shakes his head and stalks out of the storage room. Distantly, he hears the sound of the gym doors slamming shut. He sits alone in the dark, chest rising and falling heavily, hands scraped from where he had fallen.
I’m not sorry, he thinks.
Then. I’ll beat you someday. A blush rises to his cheeks, like the thought alone was scandalous.
I won’t let you take your eyes off me.
August 5 2021. 9.22PM, Bar Brezza, Ariake District, Tokyo.
(the things you wish you knew)
“I… well, because I wanted to.”
“You did?”
“You asked me if I was in love with you.”
“...and you were? When did you know?”
“I think I… I mean. Since you asked, it made me think oh. So I kissed you, and then I knew.”
“That you were in love with me? Back then?”
“...yeah.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me?”
“Ask you...?”
“Ask me when I knew I was in love with you.”
“You’re in love with me?”
Oikawa chuckles. It’s quiet.
“Ah, Tobio,” he says. “You have no idea.”
December 12 2017, 8.30AM, Schweiden Adler’s dormitory, Sendai.
(13,099 km)
For Tobio, love has always been about distance.
His grandfather, who he held onto for as long as he could before he was wrenched away. Miwa, who knew the right thing to say even if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Oikawa Tooru.
Oikawa Tooru, whose nails had been inches away from his face. Oikawa Tooru, the sun to his Icarus. Oikawa Tooru, on the other side of the world, miles away and still too close for comfort.
August 5 2021. 9.22PM, Bar Brezza, Ariake District, Tokyo.
(suddenly, none)
Tobio blinks. The world slows around him. It contracts, collapses, and rebuilds itself to contain only the man in front of him and his words.
You have no idea.
Oikawa sighs and his head falls into his hands.
“Well! That’s that,” he says with sudden brusque cheerfulness. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Tobio remains frozen in place for a few more minutes. When he moves, it is on instinct, heart pounding to a familiar rhythm - really, the only one he’s ever known.
Tobio opens the door just as Oikawa has finished washing his hands. His eyes catch Tobio’s in the mirror and he turns around in surprise.
“Tobio?” he asks, as Tobio makes his way towards him. Tobio places his hands on either side of the counter, mirroring the way Oikawa had pinned him down years ago. The small of Oikawa’s back is pushed against the tiles, head against the glass.
Oikawa’s pupils are blown wide, and Tobio sees himself reflected in them. A little bit taller, gaze gentle, forehead creased with the fear that comes in holding something impossibly delicate.
He closes the distance between them, catching Oikawa’s lips between his own.
July 5 2023, 9.13PM, an apartment in Rome, Italy.
(a sofa too small for two)
“Scoot over, will you?”
Tobio looks up from where he’s sprawled across the couch. “Why?”
Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Make some space for me to sit down, obviously.”
Tobio considers. “No. I’m comfortable like this.”
There is a beat of silence.
“ Are you?” Oikawa says then, with a sickly saccharine smile. “Then I guess I have no choice.”
Before Tobio can figure out what the words mean, the wind is knocked out of his lungs and he has a mouthful of soft brown hair. The shit-eating grin of one Oikawa Tooru fills his vision.
Oikawa immediately began winding his arms around Tobio’s torso, twining their limbs together. Tobio sighs and rolls onto his side, making room for them both. Oikawa gives him a little hum of approval before snuggling closer.
August 5 2021, 9.25PM, Bar Brezza, Ariake District, Tokyo.
(millimeters)
“So what about it, Tobio?” Oikawa asks, when Tobio pulls away. Oikawa looks at Tobio like he’s all that exists. His smile is one Tobio has yet to get used to. Earnest, a little overeager, dorky. Adorable. “Care to give us a shot?”
And what is he supposed to say to that? It’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Or I love you. I’ve loved you for years.
Or I never thought I’d be close enough to hold you.
Tobio kisses him again.
Or maybe just
Yes.
October 20 2026, 5.40PM, Calle San Luis Oeste, San Juan.
(unimportant)
Oikawa drops the last of the boxes by the door and joins Tobio out on the balcony. It’s just big enough to fit the two of them, much like their little two-bedroom apartment in Calle San Luis Oeste, near the CA San Juan facilities.
Tobio still plays for Ali Roma, so he won’t be at the apartment all that often; but there was a magic in having a space christened as theirs . A shrine to an unspoken promise to never be so far apart that they wouldn’t come back to each other.
Oikawa wraps his arms around Tobio’s waist from behind and rests his chin on Tobio’s shoulder. They watch the sunset in comfortable silence. The fading light paints the sky rosy, the gentle blush of newfound love. He feels the final strokes of warmth give way to a cool night, the city coming to life below them.
It makes Tobio a little dizzy to even think of it, to think that he has been so lucky. To think that the universe has been so gracious, and given him so much. To think that he has been allowed to fly this close to the sun.
“Can you believe it?” Tooru says quietly, as if reading Tobio’s thoughts. “It doesn’t feel real, being this happy. I don’t think I ever was before.”
Tobio’s breath catches in his throat. “I love you,” he murmurs, finally able to speak the words. “I love you, I love you.” He places a hand over Oikawa’s and squeezes. This time, don’t even think about leaving.
Oikawa tightens his embrace in response. “I’m keeping you right here. You’re not getting away from me. You’re going to stay, got it Tobio-chan?” Tobio finds himself smiling so wide it hurts, the way everything about the two of them used to. After a lifetime of distance, there is no space between them. They fit like gloves, like a second skin, like home.
Oikawa buries his face in Tobio’s neck. “You’re going to stay, stay, stay . ”