SWEET TALK ; hq one-shots.

_𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗜𝗧 ft. 𝗶𝘄𝗮𝗼𝗶

[ narcoleptic iwaizumi hajime & university student oikawa tōru ]
= status : 1473 wrds , may 2021

oikawa tōru watches as two nurses wheel in a guy with black, spiky-ish hair and a square bandage stuck to his left cheek with medical tape. his bed occupies the formerly-empty space on the right side of the bedside table. furihata maaya, one of the nurses, pulls on the curtain, separating tōru and this stranger.

"what's up with him?" tōru asks curiously, half sitting up to try and see past the cobalt blue curtain, as if it would do anything but whatever.

"nothing you should concern yourself with, oikawa-kun." she turns to the chestnut haired male. "just go back to rest, okay? the call button is right there if you need me." they share a smile—tōru's fake—before maaya leaves the room, letting the door close behind her.

once tōru hears the weirdly familiar deadbolt's click!, he sits up from his lying position, letting his feet dangle down the side of the uncomfortable hospital bed. on his right foot, the male hops over to the makeshift wall, pulling it back and grinning charmingly at the boy who was looking out the window until he heard the clatter of curtain rings.

"hi." tōru greets as he sits back down on his bed, slightly tensing at the harsh half-glare this guy is giving him. "i'm oikawa tōru. you?"

"iwaizumi hajime." he cranes his head back to the view of the hospital courtyard, bustling with family members, doctors and nurses.

'troublesome name.' tōru exhales to himself. "can i call you iwa-chan?"

"no."

tōru decides to call him by the nickname anyway, in defiance of iwaizumi's unenthusiastic protest. "so, iwa-chan, what're you in for?" he questions, as if they're in jail.

"didn't i say no to that stupid nickname?"

"that's not the right answer." tōru pouts slightly. but what does he know about the right answer? it feels like the beginning of a very one-sided friendship. "what's with the bandage?" he juts his chin towards the white gauze with a little bit of blood, seeing his faint reflection, as well as iwaizumi's.

tōru feels blood rush to his ears, numbing them effectively. 'shit, he's hot. what the fuck kinda–'

"scraped my cheek. are you done asking questions?"

"no, not really." tōru shrugs, legs swinging. "how'd you scrape your cheek?"

iwaizumi sighs, using his hands to turn himself around on the bed, legs still crossed. tōru can only assume he's thinking 'nothing else to do, might as well talk to this guy.'

"that's none of your business."