why'd you only call me when you're high

do i wanna know?

oikawa spotted his prey quickly. he was easy to target — tall, dark and handsome, the cliché type most people would go for if his expression wasn't as dangerous as it was. that expression was the sole reason oikawa wanted him, though. that expression was a familiar one; one he always went for.

he didn't know why he loved it. it annoyed him, the unidentifiable and undeniable feeling that smothered all of his senses except the one that processed the alcohol sliding down his throat.

it wasn't fair. oikawa knew that as soon as the man locked eyes with him and noticed him, for god's sake, that he was enchanted. he knew exactly why he wanted him and he knew exactly what he wanted to do with him. oikawa didn't have that — it was an unfair advantage.

still, he could have a little fun with it, even if he was at loss.

he needed the fun. he needed the fun to distract his mind from something it shouldn't even be focusing on.

he wondered if he could cry his heart out to this stranger. he wondered if he could spill all of his heartbreaks. he wondered if he could possibly keep all of his many, many secrets.

vague chords were struck by the band. he recognized the song. he hated the song.

iwaizumi flashed through his mind.

he shut his eyes for a split second, just short of a blink, and continued to walk.

he managed to numb his mind from the song, from the memories. it was like falling asleep and waking up in an alternate reality — one with a very attractive man glaring at him like some kind of predator.

oikawa settled down on the small two-person bench next to him, the man's arm resting behind him. he turned his torso towards him, arching his back so his chest gently grazed the other's muscular arm.

"you're new here," the taller remarked.

"how observant," oikawa said sarcastically.

"sassy, are we?"

"what're you gonna do about it?" oikawa smirked, leaning closer.

"what, you want me to shut you up?" he asked, placing the arm that was initially behind him on his waist in stead.

"so soon already?" oikawa chuckled. "i was hoping for a nice, long conversation before we finally got to... other activities."

"you can handle it," he replied lowly.

"then show me," oikawa whispered, pulling him down by the slim black tie around his neck and crashing their lips together in to a fury of lust and desire.

it wasn't emotional. it wasn't connecting like he did with iwaizumi — fuck, there he was again. he was sick of thinking of him. he was sick of lusting after him. he was supposed to be the strong one — he did the breaking up, after all. yet he was drunk and horny and desperate and all he wanted was to dial his number and call him until his battery was dead and he he had another bill he couldn't afford to pay.

here was this guy — a perfect distraction. he was perfect to rid him of his thoughts. yet he didn't. because in his heart, he was still iwaizumi's. he was still crawling towards him. crawling for a missed shot he took consciously. it was his punishment — breaking over someone else's broken heart.

ushijima didn't know exactly what came over him when the brunet started touching him in the first place. he was gorgeous — everything ushijima desired in a man. he had attitude and confidence, more than ushijima had himself. and that was surely something.

but something was strange. somehow, he could tell the other's mind was in another place. he didn't feel any connection whatsoever — but the kissing brought him satisfaction, which he viewed as good enough.

"bedroom," ushijima said lowly, grabbing him by the thighs, getting impatient. he lifted the brunet up and carried him along, finding the closest open door, knowing it was, luckily, a bed room.

ushijima closed the door and laid him on the bed, straddling him before removing his own tie and button-up swiftly, expertly working his fingers over the buttons. the smaller male under him looked up at him, drinking in the sight.

"oikawa," the brunet said silently. "my name."

"ushijima," ushijima replied simply.

it wasn't much of a connection, but it was something, to say the least.

ushijima felt fine with this much. at least, that's what he told himself. it was fine, right? he didn't need to connect. oikawa was a distraction, and he suspected he was his rebound in return. he'd have to deal with being in second place for once in his life.

maybe he didn't like being in second place. maybe he was disappointed he couldn't be at the top, metaphorically.

it was all the same to oikawa. all the same as all of those times before. he didn't care for much but enjoyment, honestly. he didn't care for what's-his-name in the slightest.

he surrendered himself. he didn't care about that either. he had a lot of pride to get rid of, anyway.

he woke up in the morning, feeling exhausted and drained. he didn't want to do it anymore. he was sick of waking up tired in an unfamiliar environment that definitely didn't help him get rid of the pit of emotion that haunted him every day and every night. he wanted back security, he wanted back what he could've had, what he now couldn't have.

he longed for one person only. he longed for him. he couldn't stay away anymore.

he got dressed quickly and silently, checking his coat pocket for his phone and cigarettes — his own personal survival kit. he walked out, pace hurried, and once outside, he dialed a number he still knew by heart.

iwaizumi didn't know what to do, exactly, when oikawa called him. he picked up after letting the phone ring five times, hands trembling at the thought of reconciling, oikawa begging for him to come back, knowing he had to be strong, whatever the news was.

"hello?"

oikawa heard his voice right when he held the lighter up to the cigarette between his lips and, in his surprise, nearly scorched himself and dropped his phone at the same time.

and fuck, he didn't know what to say.

"it's oikawa."

"yeah, i saw," iwaizumi replied. oikawa bit his lip. at least he wasn't the only one to have remembered the other's number.

did he want to call? he must have. oikawa left him heartbroken, and he knew, he knew so, so well, the damage he'd done. he just never expected himself to suffer, as selfish as that was.

"oikawa, why'd you call?"

he wanted him back. did he want iwaizumi to know?

"my kneesocks. i lost them."

"i don't have them."

"they must be there."

"oikawa, i don't have them. was that it?"

he didn't want him back. both of them knew knee socks were irrelevant in the conversation.

"yeah."

oikawa pulled the phone away and clicked the end call button. if he had any money to replace it, he would've smashed it against the wall, for sure. but oikawa was broke and depressed and alone. he would always be.