Conquering the Great King

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 35

Oikawa bit his lip as he waited outside the building.

The moon was high in the sky by now, the streets empty. It was Iwa-chan's last full day of this crunch nonsense; the work was done, it was being sent off to the printers, and hopefully they would get some peace.

He wiggled in the seat of his car, glancing up at the lights shining through the windows toward the top of the building. Iwa-chan didn't keep him waiting long. He never did.

He walked through the front doors with his face pulled down into a gruff frown, the one he always used to wear alone at his booth in the bar.

Oikawa perked up, unlocking his doors as Iwa-chan crossed the concrete. He swung the door open and dipped inside, "Sorry for the wait, thank you for picking me up." Oikawa watched Iwa-chan's face soften as he looked across the space at Oikawa. Oikawa felt himself melt a little.

"It was nothing, I wasn't even waiting long Iwa-chan."

Iwa-chan was blinking slowly, his head nodding. "That's good," he responded in a low voice.

Oikawa crawled away from his spot alongside the sidewalk and drove toward his apartment. He didn't play music because Iwa-chan "can't stand that pop crap" and because silence never bothered them. It was always comfortable, with Iwa-chan. And besides...

Oikawa cast a quick glance to the side.

Iwa-chan's eyes were closed, head lolling forward on his neck and spine disassembling into a slump against the seat. Oikawa pulled his eyes back to the road with a smirk.

He could hear the whir of his tires, but he could also hear the timed breaths beside him, sighing into a heavy rhythm.

Oikawa stole a look whenever he could. It's not often he got to see Iwa-chan sleeping, considering he rises so much easier than Oikawa does. His lips were pulled down, but they didn't look unhappy; it was just a relaxed slouch of the mouth that made Oikawa feel at ease. His eyelashes cast shadows against his cheeks, the streetlight toying with the angles as they stretched and skimmed over the skin before blinking into darkness and repeating the illusion.

When Oikawa reached the apartment Iwa-chan didn't even stir, the lurch of a stopping car and the sound of the door not reaching him. Oikawa opened Iwa-chan's door and tapped his shoulder.

"Iwa-chan," he tried to coo softly, lightly shaking him. "Iwa-chan, we're home."

Iwa-chan's eyelashes fluttered halfway open. He hummed. No words, just vibrations on his lips.

Oikawa smiled, "Here," and he tugged at his hand.

Iwa-chan followed, staggering out of the vehicle. If Oikawa hadn't known better he would have said he was drunk.

Oikawa led him all the way up to the apartment, Iwa-chan lending some of his weight to Oikawa's shoulder as he leaned against him. When they walked into Oikawa's apartment he didn't even hesitate before walking to the bedroom. He threw himself down on the bed and half heartedly flipped the corner of the comforter over himself.

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa said, voice falling into a chuckle, "You're still wearing clothes."

He grunted.

"Iwa-chan, change," Oikawa said, flipping the comforter back down and tugging at his pants.

Iwa-chan shook his head.

Oikawa sighed and leaned over, unbuckling his belt and then yanking his slacks down around his ankles. Iwa-chan's legs were flopping weight in his pant legs, like wet noodles or a toddler or a dead person.

Oikawa finally tugged them off of him and almost fell backwards in the process.

"Here, take this," Oikawa said to him, pressing pajama pants against Iwa-chan's chest. "Put these on."

Iwa-chan rolled over.

"My goodness you're a handful," Oikawa sighed, putting the pants back in the drawer. There was no way he was going to wrestle that dead weight into clothes. Boxers were fine.

Oikawa shoved Iwa-chan's shoulder over so he could unbutton his shirt. Iwa-chan let him, and once Oikawa had yanked that free he moved to change himself, slipping on pajama pants before moving to crawl in bed. He properly grabbed the blanket and pulled it up over them.

Iwa-chan moved then, wiggling across the mattress until his chest was pressed against Oikawa's back, his free arm wrapped around him. He inhaled deeply and then sighed and Oikawa couldn't help but smile again.

"I missed you, Iwa-chan," Oikawa said softly, holding Iwa-chan's arm against him.

"I," Iwa-chan's voice was a low grumble, "missed you too. Oikawa."

Oikawa didn't think those were words of a conscious man, given his breathing and actions, but he couldn't help but think that maybe that was even nicer.