Oikawa leans back in his seat with a lazy smirk, "you're hoping there would be a next time?"
"Asshole." Iwaizumi spats.
"Babe."
"Fuck you."
"I'm not stopping you."
OR:
How (not) to handle an asshole billionaire jerk if you're also an asshole billio...
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2 weeks later, things seemed to have settled down—At least from what Hotaru gathered.
He brushed some dust speaks from his coat's shoulder and stood up straighter. He got a good look at himself in the mirror and breathed out shakily, hands balled up at sides.
They decided it was time that Hotaru met Uki's kid.
Before they all decide to move in together.
Move in.
He let out another breath and tightened the slim black tie around his neck.
He hoped Hinata Shoyo will like him or at least not totally dislike him.
He walked around the room towards the dresser. Slipping the watch on his wrist, he looked out the glass wall at the bright skyline of Paris.
They figured it would be best if Hotaru goes on to Paris first. Most of Uki's work was here. It would be best to live here.
So he went. A week before Shoyou and Uki were supposed to arrive, Hotaru reached Paris.
Upon his arrival, he was greeted by one of Uki's secretaries who took him to Uki's hotel. They immediately went up to the top floor which was a furnished suite. The secretary gave him a password for the floor and bowed down politely before exiting.
He had stood there in the open living room for a good few minutes before taking out his phone and dialling the number he knew by heart.
"Darling." Uki's voice slurred on the other line.
"Ukiro."
"Hm?"
"I said nothing over the top."
"Top who?" They laughed.
Hotaru shook his head, "I'm not joking. I said nothing too much. I'm going to work a normal job, Uki, I can't afford to pay my side of bills here."
". . ."
"Uki?"
"Well. You don't need to pay, I own everything—
"I promised Hajime."
"I know—
"Uki, I need to earn rightfully."
"I know. This is . . . Temporary. We can move somewhere else as soon as Shoyou and you get all buddy buddy."
Hotaru chewed on the inside of his mouth, slim fingers gripping the phone tighter.
"Don't do that." Uki's voice was stern.
"Do what?"
"The thing you do with your mouth when you're worried."
