Conquering the Great King

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 4

This situation just further proved what Iwaizumi already knew. He wasn't equipped to handle these types of things, he just wasn't good at one night stands.

When they arrived at the karaoke bar of Oikawa's choosing-- because what did Iwaizumi know about Karaoke-- Oikawa was almost skipping. He bounded through the door, greeting the clerk with a cheerfulness that was perfectly genuine. He paid for both of them "because I'm the one who dragged you here Iwa-chan" and then made their way toward a room.

Iwaizumi hadn't been to one of these in a very long time. Purposefully.

When they entered Oikawa threw his coat on the booth seating, twirling around before picking up the remote, "Aaah what should I sing first?"

His voice left his throat in a high melody and Iwaizumi couldn't help but chuckle.

Oikawa looked up at him and grinned, cheeks red from cold and excitement and alcohol.

"Do grown ass men really still come to these things?" Iwaizumi asked as he crossed his legs and lounged against the seat, his eyes vaguely watching Oikawa load up a song.

Oikawa turned to face him sharply, eyes narrowed, "Iwa-chan!" he scolded, face all seriousness, "Karaoke is the unofficial National Sport of Japan."

Iwaizumi grunted a laugh, "Sure, of course."

Oikawa began singing some God-awful J-pop nonsense, but his voice was high and bubbling and didn't sound bad in spite of the terrible lyrics and sub-par composition.

Upon finishing Oikawa flashed him an expectant grin which fell off his face when Iwaizumi's only response was, "Your taste in music is as crappy as your personality."

Oikawa reared back, touching his hand to his chest in hyperbolic mock offense.

"Do you listen to any rock music?" Iwaizumi asked, ignoring his display.

Oikawa blinked owlishly, "I'm in tune with whatever's trending."

Iwaizumi sighed, standing to grab the remote from Oikawa. He supposed he would have to be, working in marketing and all. "Pick something from this list," Iwaizumi instructed, handing the remote back to him.

Oikawa leaned against Iwaizumi's shoulder, "Aw, you want to hear me sing again Iwa-chan?"

Iwaizumi stepped away and watched Oikawa wobble in place, "You singing is fine, so long as it's not vapid pop crap."

"Ah, Iwaizumi likes his music to have depth and meaning," Oikawa said, eyes sparkling and lips grinning, "what a romantic."

Iwaizumi picked a cushion off the couch and threw it at him. Oikawa squawked.

"Oh, I know this one," he chirped happily after a brief pause. He loaded the song and Iwaizumi immediately recognized the music. It was a few years old, but still enjoyable. As he watched Oikawa he couldn't help but wonder about the interaction-- if you could call it that-- between him and Kageyama at the bar. Iwaizumi wouldn't bother to speculate; it wouldn't do any good.

He wouldn't have had time to ponder regardless, because Iwaizumi was suddenly snapped to attention when Oikawa started singing.

Voice stripped of bubbling happiness and energy, Oikawa's voice was actually rather low. It was a slithering silk around syllables that forced goose bumps across Iwaizumi's arms. Iwaizumi sighed and watched Oikawa sing. He didn't know this song as well so his eyes were anchored to the screen, watching the kanji and kana light and fade in time with the music.

When he finished he whipped around to face Iwaizumi, shoving the microphone in his direction, "Your turn," he declared adamantly.

"No."