billionaire brat(s) | iwaoi

64

Bet you missed me wh0res

NSFW warning in the last part.

6 months later

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, a bored look on his face as he pulled open the door of Oikawa's (theirs. He keeps forgetting) penthouse and looked up at the person, "he's at work."

Uki had his hands in his pants and shoulders squared confidently, he smiled down at him, "why aren't you?" The ever so calm demeanour in his voice.

"I just wasn't feeling so good. . . " He trailed off as the older man casually let himself in and began looking thru Oikawa's fridge (theirs.)

"Your father misses you," Uki mentioned offhandedly, choosing to rummage thru beverages now, "where do you keep the wine?"

Iwaizumi let out a sigh. He was deeply aware how much his father missed him thanks to his message box always fucking filled because his father left him tons of voice mails everyday.
Sometimes it was apologies. Sometimes about Shoyou. Sometimes just him going on about his day which was weird and suspicious when it came to Iwaizumi Hotaru.

"Tooru's trying to quit. There's no wine."

Uki's face soured. Rolling his eyes, he walked over and took a seat on the couch. He patted the space next to him.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Paris?"

The smile returned to Uki's face, "if you want to ask about your father, just say that."

He did.

He poured Uki some coffee instead.

"I don't. I don't care."

"Mmhm."

Uki clapped twice causing the lights to go out. Only small bulbs in the ceiling remained on. He could make out Uki's facial expressions in it at least.

"Why are you here?" Iwaizumi sighed finally taking a seat beside them on the couch, "you always tell me before you come."

He didn't expect Uki's mouth to slightly open but no words coming out. He didn't expect uki to slightly squint down at his cup and say, "your father and I are . . . going through a rough patch."

"A rough patch." He repeated. Eyebrows raised.

Uki looked away sheepishly.

"Well," Iwaizumi cleared his throat, "he didn't expect it to go so long anyways...   anddd you didn't know that— oh man. Don't cry. Uki."

"I'm not crying!" Uki kicked his leg.

"Hey." He sighed, putting a hand on the older's shoulder, "let's . . . eat some icecream."

"It's not a break up!" Uki screeched at him.

"Oh really?"

"Yes— it's just."

"Yeah."

—

An hour later their they had spoons between their finger and a tub of icecream (cookies and cream. Uki requested) sitting between them as the both almost lay on the couch, legs propped up on the coffee table. The flatscreen TV on the wall didn't offer as much distraction because they were too busy talking anyways.

"And then he got sad. AGAIN. For the FIFTH time this week and it's only Wednesday!"

"Well what did you say?"