billionaire brat(s) | iwaoi

17

Showered and dressed in pyjamas.

Oikawa was sitting with his legs crossed and his back against the headboard, right across from Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi stared at him. He swallowed. He was pretty sure they weren't going to talk about it. It was impossible to get a straight answer from Oikawa. Ever.

"Hey." He said, looking at Oikawa sitting directly across him on the bed as well, just a few inches away.

"Hm."

Oikawa seemed distracted since Uki's. Iwaizumi had a no idea why. He would give anything to know.

After he had helped Oikawa get dressed, he took a shower himself and when he got out of the bathroom, the other was sitting on the bed in this position so he went ahead and sat across him.

What the fuck else was he supposed to do?

He was looking at him now. At Oikawa who was staring down, fiddling absentmindedly with his fingers.

"Are you okay?" Iwaizumi tried.

He didn't want to know. Didn't want to ask. But he was getting tired of this shit. He just wanted Oikawa to be okay, wanted them back in their offices at home, hating each other from afar. not here in a foreign country where Iwaizumi felt like every single emotion wanted to punch his face in.

"Why do you keep asking that? . . . we're not friends, Iwa-chan."

"No we're not; which is why I'm confused why you keep acting like we are."

Oikawa smirked slightly to himself, gaze still downwards.

And Iwaizumi thought there he goes, he isn't going to take anything seriously. He didn't say anything at all so Iwaizumi continued.

"Is it romantic or platonic ?," he raised his eyebrows, "or are you just messing with me? We're in another country so you might as well have some fun, is that it?"

Oikawa laughed properly now.

Iwaizumi swallowed his anger (but it was justified) , "why do you keep acting like this? If this means something to you then tell me. I'm tired of beating around the bush where you look at me like that one second and then you act like we're still in college the next minute."

"Ah. Paris is getting to your head, Iwa-chan—

"you embraced me yourself! You said you missed me, what the hell is it supposed to mean if you don't even—

"—I thought you were someone else."

"like me— . . . Oh."

"I was drunk." Oikawa smiled, looking at him, "could be for anyone. I'm drunk a lot, you know."

Iwaizumi's chest constricted.

Right.

All this time he thought Oikawa hated him too. But touches were too much. Glances were too much. What the fuck is wrong with him?

He was stupid to think that Oikawa would even mean anything. He had been with countless people who were all better than Iwaizumi in some way or form and Iwaizumi had never even . . . never even . . .

"Right." He said out loud.

Oikawa nodded at him.

When they lied on the bed back to back in the dark, it felt real. Was Oikawa just a lonely person who would look for comfort anywhere?

But he touched Iwaizumi like he meant it. Like it mattered. Like it was only them.

Iwaizumi brought his fingertips up to touch the curve of his own neck. It was where Oikawa rested his head. In the crook of Iwaizumi's neck.