billionaire brat(s) | iwaoi

54

Hi guys <3

"Oh," Emiko raised his brows, "my point is that you're a fool to get so possessive and think I'd want your 'work partner' when you are sitting right here with me . . .

And then he promptly raised his own hand, "you're hot. . . fucking own it."

Iwaizumi blinked at him, absolutely stunned.

After a few minutes, Emiko put his hand down, shrugging and leaning back on his seat to cross his arms, "I'm just saying," he mumbled, "Every single person knows you're hot," he grinned, throwing a noticeable wink towards Oikawa, "Right, Tooru?"

Before Oikawa could respond, there was a knock at the door followed by a bunch of waiters walking in, setting down utensils and plates and the first course.

They ate in silence as the subtle awkwardness hung in the air. Iwaizumi didn't even dare look towards Oikawa.

It was obvious to him that Emiko was hitting on him.

The fact that Oikawa was letting him do it was not so understandable.

Oikawa was the most jealous man he had ever met. Of course Iwaizumi would be confused out of his mind trying to figure out why Oikawa Tooru was letting his long term best friend hit on his partner.

"If—," Atsumu spoke with mouth half full, "if you had the chance, would ya go out with Iwaizumi-san?"

His entire body felt rage. Wasn't Atsumu the one who was always pushing him towards Oikawa?

Kiyoomi swatted his arm, "close your mouth while eating, Miya, you're disgusting."

"Mhm, love you too— so, Emiko-san?"

Emiko stabbed his fork into a small piece of chicken, "Mhm, I don't see why not," he lifted his fork to Iwaizumi's mouth, "taste test?"

Iwaizumi paused, eyes unblinking.

"What? Did I say something inappropriate? Aren't you single?"

"I am," he seethed, "but I'm not interested."

The older man pushed his fork even closer. His eyes shone like bright stars, "taste test?"

It was awkward at this point but it would have been more awkward if Iwaizumi refused so he gave in and took the piece of chicken in his mouth. He chewed slowly, looking down at his plate.

He could feel all of their eyes burning into him.

Across the table, Uki snorted.

Colour rose to Hajime's cheeks in extreme embarrassment.

"Why not? . . . Am I not your type?"

He kept his glare down, "certainly not."

He heard Emiko laugh, "oh, I'm sure I am. What's your type? Slightly taller than you, athletic, gets on your nerves, incredibly beautiful, the best at most things?"

He flushed, hand clutching into a fist under the table.

"Kiss me if I'm wrong."

"Oh no," Hana was saying across the table, "you're completely right." Sakura beamed beside her.

Hajime wanted death, actually.

"You know," Oikawa spoke from his right, "that is a pretty vague description, Miko-chan. I'm sure Iwa-chan wouldn't fall for such basic things."

His tone was teasing. The infamous smirk in place.

F U C K.

Iwaizumi realised immediately.

Oikawa was enjoying this.

Unfortunately, Emiko took that as a challenge, "ah, I suppose you're right. Then, I'll go on. Hmm, hair long enough for you to grab on? Pretty, likes attention, has a sex appeal of a God--

"Okay!," Iwaizumi's grip on his fork went rock solid, "I get it. Oikawa did tell you stuff, I get it."

"Mhm, only the sappy shit. He didn't mention anything about how attractive you are."

"Right."

"Alright." Emiko shrugged, giggling.

-

"Good evening ladies, gentlemen and everyone else. I'd like to thank you for coming here, for celebrating me and my team's success." Iwaizumi spoke into the microphone.

From up here, the people all blended into each other. He couldn't tell who was who. All he saw was loads of people, waiting to make a joke, waiting to push his father's crimes on him.

He breathed out, looking far towards his right to see Oikawa behind the red curtain who grinned as soon as their eyes met.

Oikawa was supposed to go on after him.

Iwaizumi stared at him for a second, watched Oikawa tooru blew him a kiss and then snile. Not the billion dollar ones, not the camera ones, not the one printed on every single magezine.

Not that one.

He smiled like he knew.

He smiled for Iwaizumi.

Only him. Behind the curtain where no one else could see him, except the man he had always treasured.

Iwaizumi snapped his attention back to the stage and smiled slightly to himself as he folded the speech written paper into half and set it aside.

The hall was silent.

He cleared his throat, "I, Iwaizumi Hajime, am standing here because my father fucked up."

-