a/n: thought i’d give you all a little drabble to feed on while everything else is underworks <3 no, it’s not at all proof read </3
pairing:osamu miya x reader
“What ish ‘dis? What are you doin’?”
“Your cheeks are so soft…”
“Begentle at least,” Osamu huffed, gently tugging at your wrists to alleviate the painful hold you had on them. He sighed as your fingertips remained, slowly sliding your palms back to caress the supple skin.
Although completely enamoured by the man’s cheeks, you stared up into his watchful eyes. His wide, grey eyes absorbed the blueish hues of the sunlight upon slate. They held unspoken affections; silent mantras of love he would sing only within his mind whenever you were in his presence. Unfortunately, they drifted to a gradual close as your thumbs massaged slow, rhythmic circles into his cheeks—his gorgeous gaze hindered by exhaustion.
You could hear the dulcet hums leaking from his quirked lips, drawing your attention down towards the tiny smile he wore. The faint freckles that you ran your fingers over were now the last thing on your mind, your fascination with his cheeks quickly subsiding to make way for your newfound fascination with his lips.
You simply couldn’t help yourself. They just looked so soft… so kissable.He certainly didn’t complain when you lifted his chin with your hands, dropping your head to meet his lips in a chaste exchange. Despite being lip-locked, Osamu continued to hum his soft, silly tune, the vibrations urging a string of giggles from your part.
“I love ya’, darlin’…” He whispered, deciding it was his turn to fondle and fuss with your cheek. You smiled and pressed your forehead to his, brushing the tip of his nose with yours.
“Love you, too.” He closed his eyes once more, thinking you would move in for another kiss as per usual. Oh, how sorely mistaken he was. You shifted quickly, as though you were a soldier on a mission to be the biggest inconvenience possible. You moved your hands back up to his face and squished his cheeks, pushing both palms inwards with a snort.
“You look so stupid,” you snickered out, even more amused at his unimpressed expression. He sighed heavily, brows furrowed.
“Right, that’s it.” He huffed and you froze. “C’mere,you!”
Or at least, you both refuse to believe that what you were usually doing together were things that were typically done by people dating or in a relationship.
Or at least, you both refuse to believe that what you were usually doing together were things that were typically done by people dating or in a relationship.
Summary: Trapped in the university library due to a raging blizzard outside, you are forced to endure the cold night with the man you hate the most: the player who lives in the dorm across from you, Tooru Oikawa. But with tensions and anxieties at an all-time high, you begin to realize your feelings for Oikawa aren’t quite what you thought they were, especially when all he wants to do is keep you warm.
A/N: I took like six hours to write this??? Bruh callin’ amateur hour in this bitch eh, whatever, enjoy!
Word count: 5345
Snow, layers upon layers, piled up outside of the library. The glass doors of the library had long frosted over, and inside the lights began to flicker. Outside every window was a blanket of white, everything in the distance far too foggy to see through the flurry of flakes.
The lone television suspended above the library’s main desk played the same succession of videos–static with white noise, a scrolling of text warning people to stay inside, three loud buzzes, then more static with white noise. It far overpowered the sound of the library’s heater kicking on, its automatic settings desperately trying to battle the cold that succeeded in invading the closed and locked library.
You sighed, sparing another glance at the exit and the wall of snow that kept rising against it. Minutes ago you’d tried pushing open the doors, only succeeding in chilling the tips of your fingers against the frozen metal. Ever since then, your fingers never truly seemed to recover.
Just your luck; first a small windstorm had delayed your flight back home for Christmas Break, and now, just when you’d given up and decided to work on a few research projects while being stuck at the university, you were trapped inside the library.
But you weren’t alone. No, of course not. As if fate had it out for you, you were stuck inside the building with the one guy you despised with your whole being.
“Gum?”
Oikawa held out a piece, a small smirk dancing on the edge of his lips. When all he received in response was a blank stare, he shrugged and unwrapped it, tossing it in his mouth before toying with the wrapper.
The both of you sat behind the librarian’s desk in tall, wooden stools. It was the only place with service, and it was where you had both scurried to the second the storm warning chimed through the announcement speakers.
While you had attempted to push through the doors, Oikawa had called the school’s main office, warning them of your predicament. Of course, he’d cut himself off halfway through with a cackle at the sight of the door slamming back in your face, but nonetheless he’d gotten a simple, if completely undesirable response.
“The both of you need to stay in there and not leave. It’s far too dangerous to go out into the blizzard right now. Tomorrow morning it should be calmed down, and then we’ll send people over to get you. For now, try to stay warm.”
When he relayed this message to you, you had him put them on speaker so you could hear it with your own two ears.
Pop.
Alas, it was the truth. You were stuck.
Pop.
With your worst enemy. Alone.
Pop.
During a blizzard.
“Will you stop doing that?” you hissed, heaving a glare at him.
Oikawa froze in his seat, a gum-bubble the size of a golf ball slowly deflating with a wheeze. He raised his hands in surrender. “Excuse me for trying to find some source of joy in this miserable place. Maybe you should try having fun once in a while, YN.”
Your cheeks burned in shame at that. “I have fun!”
A single brown brow rose. “Do you?”
“Yes,” you folded your arms across your chest, “I do. But unlike you, I don’t do it at the expense of other people’s sanity.”
Long ago, amidst your third week of your first year at the university, you learned that you and Oikawa were two vastly different people. In co-ed dorms, he lived just across from you, and it seemed he reminded you of that every other night.
While loud music boomed across the hall and eventually spread throughout the building, you sat inside your dorms, hands over the headphones over your ears. You were usually leant over a textbook, pencil and notes abandoned long ago as you tried to comprehend the words despite not being able to hear your own thoughts.
Your roommate would slip out to join the fun, meeting and laughing with someone who had knocked on your door. Then that someone had tapped a single finger on your shoulder, squatting down beside your desk and leaning his head to one side.
As usual, a teasing smile danced on his lips. “You gonna join us, or sit here studying like a Debbie Downer?”
You’d be the first–and most certainly not the last–to admit that he was attractive. Brown hair exploding in tufts and swept across his forehead. Bronze eyes twinkling in the light of your lamp. Thin, pink lips pulled into a goading grin.
“Come on, I promise the water’s warm.”
It was at that moment that you started to hate him.
“Get out of my room.”
The smugness blanketing his face had dropped for a split second, and you genuinely wondered if you were the first to ever resist his charms. But how could you not, when in every second of your interaction with him, it felt like he was laughing at you?
Hesitantly, it seemed, he rose to his feet, stumbling a bit. You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was already drunk, but you hadn’t smelled it earlier when he was inches from your face.
“All right,” he chuckled, rising to his full height with his hands on his knees. Swiftly, he turned and made his way to your door, not bothering to look back at you again. “I know when I’m not wanted. Enjoy your studying, YN.”
How he’d learned your name, you never really. You’d figured he caught it on the first day of the one class you shared with him, English, amidst mandatory introductions. Since then, every time your name fell on his lips, he more sang it than said it, always in that sly tone of his.
You hated it. You hated him.
And now, as you spent the third day of Christmas Break locked inside alone with him in a freezing library, you found yourself despising him even more.
Pop.
“Well, YN, you should know better than anyone that I have a knack for driving people insane,” Oikawa hummed, long fingers folding the edges of his gum wrapper against the desk surface. Your eyes drawn to the action, you absentmindedly scoffed.
“Yes, I certainly do.”
His eyes darted to yours, an emotion flitting across them before dropping back down to his miniature origami. A chill ran up your spine.
“I’m going to go look for some blankets,” you sputtered out of the blue. You found yourself reflecting his shocked look, a little surprised at yourself at the outburst.
“Okay,” he grinned after a pause. “Hurry back soon.”
Ignoring the wink he offered you, you slipped out of your chair and left him alone behind the desk counter, effectively beginning your search for stray, abandoned coverings.
Instantly, you realized the rest of the library was significantly chillier than the desk up front. Though the heater was still pumping and hissing through the air vents above you, it was now rattling much more forcefully than before.
Must be the snow piling on top of the electrical system or something.
The fluorescent lights buzzed above you, still cutting off and flickering every few seconds as you passed bookshelf after labeled bookshelf. Signs labeled with genres and areas of study swung from the ceiling over rows of different-colored bindings. So distracted, you let out a yelp of pain after stubbing your toe against an abandoned book cart, plenty of go-backs filed one after the other in no discernible order.
“YN?” Far off, Oikawa’s voice called after you. Despite the distance you’d created between the two of you, he still must have heard your pained shout. A small part of you was surprised he bothered to acknowledge the noise at all.
Maybe he’s not a complete pain in the ass.
“Yeah, that was me, I’m fine! Just hit my foot on something!”
“Do you need help finding your way around? I’m sorry, I forgot my walking rope, so we’ll have to hold hands!”
Nevermind, still a dick.
“Fuck you!”
“That’s why I’m here!”
Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips to prevent giving in to his teasing further. With a few hissed curses under your breath, you continue venturing through the uninhabited building. Though you did find a few abandoned belongings, none of which were of much use. A few too small hoodies, one suspicious pair of sweatpants, and some stray sunglasses. One poor soul even forgot their backpack at one of the work tables, and despite your initial curiosity, you refrained from digging through it and instead left it where it was.
It was when you arrived at the individual work areas divided by wooden partitions that your search finally paid off. Because it was arranged against a line of floor-to-ceiling windows, it was significantly colder in this work area than any other place you’d come across. Luckily, that also meant there was a higher chance of you finding spare blankets–which you did.
One was still strewn across the back of a work chair, a black fur throw with no designs but a single tear at one corner, presumably where a tag had been. Another, this one cream-colored, knitted wool, sat in a crumpled pile on the very last desk of the entire area, arranged in the furthest corner of the library from the entrance. The bulb in the ceiling above this desk had been out ever since the first time you’d been in the library, so you weren’t surprised to figure that people crammed out naps between studying in this dark little corner.
While gathering the two–scratch that, there was another on the ground next to you–three blankets in your arms, you spared a look outside the windows. Frost and a glaze of ice covered each corner where metal met glass, and, because you were on the first floor, you could see how high the snow had piled by now. It reached as high as your hips, with more flakes joining or splatting against the pane every second.
The sun, you could see, was just barely setting, the gray of the sky growing darker. Soon enough, it was darker inside than it was outside.
The power. It had gone out.
“YN!”
Because the heater sputtered a few more clicks before kicking the bucket, you could barely hear Oikawa’s voice, far off and muffled, over the large distance you’d covered in the library. The lights above you no longer buzzed, and instead an unsettling silence took over the building.
“Oikawa! The lights!” You hugged the blankets to your chest with one straining arm, the other fumbling with your phone flashlight. You began the trek back to the front desk, squinting to try and make out shelves and stray books along the way. Despite the long-sleeved T-shirt you wore, a chill was beginning to nip at your skin, and you slowed to wrap a blanket around your shoulders.
“I know, the weight of the snow must have taken out the electrical box or something!” His voice was getting closer; he must have been making his way towards you in return.
Passing through the towering bookshelves, you made it out and turned a corner onto the main path they created. A shadow of a figure stood inches from your face.
“Shit!” You flinched back, kicking a leg out blindly in self-defense. The tip of your snow boot struck something hard, and a strangled groan escaped the person as they dropped to the floor. Now level with the light of your flashlight, the person was finally visible–Oikawa hugged his shin to his chest with clenched eyes and gritted teeth.
“Ow, ow, ow, owie!”
You winced, your guilt growing worse after realizing he had just been searching for you.
“Oh, sorry,” you cringed, dropping the blankets and hovering your hands over his coiled form. You wanted to help, you just weren’t sure how. “Do you… do you want some ice for that?”
The glare he threw you chilled you to the bone more than the weather outside.
“C’mon,” you hid a snigger behind your hand, straightening up and offering him the other, “it was just a joke. I really am sorry. Let’s get back to the front desk; I’ll help you.”
The huff he released ruffled the bangs on his forehead. “I should make you kiss it better,” he pouted, hand latching onto yours and pulling himself up. He almost yanked you down with him, but you’d stationed a hand on one of the shelves for support the second you felt his whole weight. You hadn’t expected it, but you supposed you should have guessed it–Oikawa’s body was packed with muscle from years of playing volleyball.
Even now, as the main setter of your school’s team, he had daily workouts that only made his body stronger. You’d passed him once during a warm autumn day; he was jogging around campus shirtless while you were on your way back to the dorms after just getting out of class. He was headed straight for you, and during that time, everything seemed to move in slow motion.
One, two, three… eight, you’d counted, eyes raking down his chest. The sweat glistened on his bare skin, bathing him in a glowing sheen due to the midday sun. A narrow waist trailed down, down to volleyball shorts hanging slanted on his hips. A smug snicker drew your gaze up, past a broad chest and shoulders and onto Oikawa’s simpering face.
“Like what you see?” his lips mouthed, but you couldn’t hear over the pounding in your ears, blood rushing to your face.
“You’re disgusting” were the only words you could think to say, though they were the exact opposite of how you felt. Maybe you were actually speaking to yourself, ashamed at the way your body reacted to a man you hated with your entire mind. Nonetheless, his face fell in shock, and you brushed past him, ignoring how he’d stopped dead in his tracks and continuing back to your dorm.
The view from that day was still imprinted in your mind, as though somehow your mind was afraid of forgetting it. Forgetting him.
But you would never forget how much you despised his attitude.
You released his hand as quickly as you’d grabbed it, reaching back down and gathering the blankets off the floor. A red flush took over your cheeks, and for the first time you were glad the electricity had gone out. Maybe the rest of your body was beginning to freeze, but your face was completely warm.
“I’m not kissing anything, perv.”
You tried to leave him stranded behind you, moving forward to return to the front desk through the darkness, but his longer strides easily caught up with you aside from a small limp.
“The night is still young, YN.”
Instead of a proper response, you settled for a scoff, avoiding the gaze you knew was locked on your face. An amused hum escaped the man beside you, but you blocked it out.
Finally back at the front desk, you spared another look outside. The sun had set completely now, a dark blue hue now in the sky as more and more snow collected against the glass. It seemed the warmth of the room had been sucked away completely, leaving behind a stale, frigid atmosphere that dried up the back of your throat.
“The blankets will certainly help,” Oikawa broke the silence behind you, “but we’ll need more than that. I snagged what I could from the backroom, some water bottles left in the fridge or so, but we need food.” When you shifted to face him, he nodded his head toward the vending machine next to the restrooms.
“You want to break into the vending machine?” you deadpanned.
“Unless you’ve got generous amounts of cash, of course,” he smiled sarcastically.
“Maybe we should wait until morning before we start committing crimes.”
Oikawa shrugged. “Desperate times, YN.”
“We’re not that desperate.”
“Not yet.” He eyed the cloud of air his words left, releasing a larger, experimental breath and watching the fog that hung in the air afterward.
The sight made your stomach clench a little. If the cold from the outside had seeped in that quickly, you had a feeling three measly blankets weren’t going to last the two of you through the night. A wave of goosebumps ran along your skin when you thought about the cold too much.
You swallowed. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. We just have to make it till morning.” The strain in your arms from holding onto the blankets too long finally drew your attention back to them, and you busied yourself with arranging the throws on the floor. You handed one to Oikawa, saving one for yourself before spreading the last on the floor behind the front desk.
The rough carpet floor was less unforgiving when covered with a blanket, but you knew that in a matter of minutes your backside would be numb either way. Oikawa snagged the water bottles off the counter and passed them down to you before settling on the floor himself, a distance far too close for your comfort, but the heat he was giving off silenced any of your complaints.
Then it was too quiet. You cracked open a water bottle and took a sip, then you opened it again and took another sip. All the while, you saw Oikawa watch you in your peripheral vision, and when his staring came to be too much, you scrambled for your phone.
“Shit.”
“What?”
You patted your hands down your legging pockets once more, then along the ground. You flapped around your blanket, hoping to hear a weight thump against the floor, but there was nothing.
“My phone’s missing.”
“When did you-”
“Dammit, I left it on the ground after kicking you!”
“Hey,” Oikawa screeched, offended. “You say that like it was my fault!”
“Well,” you rose to your feet, Oikawa following suit, “you were the one who scared the shit out of me!”
“Didn’t you know I was looking for you?” He followed you down the main walkway through the shelves, his presence inches from your back.
“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to materialize right in front of my face!” In effort to escape his suffocating presence, you quickened your pace, eyes on the ground but not really seeing anything.
“Oh, I’m sorry, my bad. Next time you go missing during a snowstorm, I’ll be sure to wear a bell so you know exactly where I am at all times.”
“That’s not what-”
Crack.
The both of you froze in place, argument out of mind in an instant.
“Was that…?”
“Uh oh.”
You both directed your attention to underneath your foot, where an object lay cracked from your aggressive stomping.
Dropping your face into your hands, you let out a loud groan. “Could this day get any worse?”
Oikawa had squatted down to investigate, nudging your leg out of the way before picking up your cracked phone. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was useless anyway.” He tapped and poked at the screen, toying with the buttons. “Looks like it was out of battery.”
“Fuckkkkk.” You tore it from his hands, performing your own investigations of pats and brushes along the screen before calling it quits. “Isn’t yours out too?”
Solemnly, he nodded, taking his phone out and allowing you to tap around on it before throwing it back in his pocket.
“So we’re fucked?”
“Majorly.”
The pair of you slumped back to the main desk, flopping onto the ground and wrapping back up in your blankets. A shiver of cold mixed with frustration had taken over your body in a short span of time, causing your breaths to escape with slight chatters of your teeth.
You could feel it now, on the tips of your fingers and the end of your nose. A chill seeped through your leggings and slid up your shirt sleeves, sinking into every pore and leaving your hair standing on end. Your muscles began that all-too familiar buzz, a slow but steady trembling in effort to get your blood moving. Your toes curled in your boots.
“It’s cold,” you commented, the words slipping out like an afterthought.
You thought he’d agree, hum, or even nod his head. Instead, Oikawa scooted closer to you on the blanket, enough that his upper arm brushed the end of your shoulder. Then, slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal, his arm rose and wrapped around you, not only covering you with his heat but also with his blanket, still soaked in the warmth from his body.
Mind blank, you didn’t move a muscle for what seemed to be five minutes after he’d moved to embrace you.
“Is this okay?” he’d whispered into the silence, voice soft yet hesitant.
“W-why?”
“You said you were cold.” He shifted a little, but didn’t move away. And surprisingly enough, you didn’t want him to. “I–didn’t want you to be cold.”
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you, an atmosphere of peace you never thought you’d experience with the brunette man in your life. His warmth left you in a sort of lethargic trance; you didn’t want to move away, though your mind was urging you to, nor did you have the energy to. For the first time, you wanted Oikawa close to you, and you didn’t want him to leave for a while.
You were exhausted.
Formerly, the two of you were both leaning back against the wall. Now, tucked into Oikawa’s side, your right arm pressed into the side of his chest while your left was cushioned a distance from the wall by Oikawa’s arm, wrapped sturdily around your shoulders and urging you to lean toward him instead.
Man, you were tired.
“YN?”
“Hmm?” Your eyes cracked back open, and you shifted your gaze to him, waiting.
His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes still closed as a single brown tuft of hair fell across his forehead. In the light the moon reflected off the snow, you could see the length of his lashes brushing the apples of his cheeks, the sharp edge of his jawline that you yearned to run a finger along. He didn’t bother to look at you for a response when he muttered, “Why do you hate me?”
The question zapped you to attention like a taser, guilt flooding your chest for a reason you didn’t quite think you knew. There was a strong urge in you to pull away from him, but the hand on your arm tightened, halting any drastic movements.
“I… I don’t…”
“I know you do,” he sighed, tongue running out along his lips. “Please, just tell me.” There was a sort of surrender in his voice you never thought you’d hear. For a second, you missed his smug tone. You missed the teasing lilt of his voice. You missed the Oikawa you knew.
You wanted him back.
“You’re weirding me out, Oikawa.” In this position, you couldn’t poke him in the cheek, so you settled for his thigh. He barely flinched, peeking a single eye open. “Go back to acting like that smug little shit I know you are.” His lips quirked up.
“I promise I’m still me, YN. I’m just a bit curious is all.”
“Yeah, well, it’s freaking me out. I want the normal you back.”
Wrong words.
“You do?” He was wide awake at that, head straightened up and eyes wide and at attention. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging.
“Nevermind.” You twisted in his grip to get your back facing him.
“No, no, noooo.” Both of his hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “Say it again. Say you want me again.”
“God, you’re such a perv,” you stutter, voice wavering with his movements.
“You’re so mean, YN!” he whines, finally releasing your shoulders. You think he’s given up and let down your guard slightly, a little curious at his expression. But when you turn your head to face him, two arms wrap around your waist, yanking you back and in between Oikawa’s outstretched legs.
“What the-” While you struggle in his arms, Oikawa only holds you closer, leaning back and taking you with him so your back rests against his front. He hooks his head over your shoulder, and you tense when you feel a breath of warm air against your ear.
A shiver tears through your body, but you’re relieved he doesn’t comment on it.
“Say it again, YN.” And he definitely feels the shiver that time. A breathless snicker heats up the skin of your neck, but you’re too trapped in his arms to escape the overwhelming feeling it erupts in you.
“God, I hate you,” you sigh instinctively.
Oikawa grows still. The fun and games are over, it seems, as he pulls his head away from your neck. The arms encircling your waist have become rigid.
There’s a thump against the wall. Then a pause. “Why?”
You bite your lip, and though the words are on the tip of your tongue, you can’t seem to force them out. You’re ashamed, embarrassed, regretful. All of those ugly feelings he pulls out of you every other day, you draw out of yourself in this moment.
“Oikawa, I-”
“Tooru,” he corrects.
Flustered, you continue, “Tooru… whenever you… you always just… I never…” You groan at your lack of words, throwing frustrated hands over your face. The heat in your body, though small, rises. “I just feel stupid around you.”
“Stupid?”
“Like an idiot.”
“Idiot?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Stop it.”
“Sorry,” he pauses, “I just… you think you feel stupid? Around me?”
You don’t understand what he means, so you stay silent.
“So… you feel like an idiot around me… why, exactly?”
“Because,” you wave your hands around, not really sure what your gestures are doing considering he can’t see them, “you just… you tease me all the time! And when we’re in class and you look at me and I just feel like I’ve got shit all over my face! And when you throw those stupid-ass parties, I feel so lame because it’s not like I don’t want to socialize, but I hate the way people act at parties! And then you come along and tell me that I should join, but I know it’s gonna fucking suck and I know you’re gonna see that I stick out during parties like a sore thumb and that makes me feel even worse and I-”
“YN!” A hand slips from your waist, slapping over your mouth and effectively cutting off your rambling. A disbelieved breath sounds behind you. “Jesus Christ, YN.”
And you feel like even more of an idiot. You take some pleasure in the fact that he can’t see you as tears begin springing in the corners of your eyes.
But then there’s a hard pressure against the back of your head. And then something soft against the back of your neck. “YN, YN, YN,” and you realize his lips are on your neck, his face buried into your hair, “God, you just… you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”
You didn’t know that.
“The fact that you can say all of that, and think all of that, and feel all of that, without realizing why I even do it at all drives me insane.” You feel his mouth move against you with every word, your skin growing hot under his breath. You try to speak against his hand, and thankfully he pulls it away when you do, returning it to your waist as though it doesn’t muddle your mind.
“What are you talking about?”
And he laughs like it’s the dumbest question in the world. And maybe it is, but you have to know.
His lips are on your neck one last time before he pulls away, leaning back against the wall once more and taking you with him. “YN,” his fingers twitch against your skin, the cold of them biting through the fabric of your shirt, “do you have feelings for me?”
And you feel like the biggest idiot of all, because you do.
You do have feelings for him, and you only just realized that now.
“Holy shit.”
Oikawa stiffens. “What?”
“I have feelings for you.” The words slip out before you can stop them, mostly because you’re still in disbelief. Did you really? After all this time of thinking you hated him, of hating how he teased you, you seriously had feelings for him and you didn’t even notice?
Stupid. So very stupid.
A loud scoff from Oikawa breaks you out of your stupor.
“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me nuts.”
And you can’t even turn around and call him an asshole because he’s turning you in his grip and pressing his lips against yours. The hand on your chin, the other on your hip, all to pull you closer, spin you around and tug you onto his lap without separating from you.
Your hands are in his hair, and you’re tugging, and it’s that whine you always hear whenever you don’t respond to his teasing, that needy one you thought you always hated because it just shakes you to your core but now you get it, you finally understand it. And those long fingers, the ones he always slams onto your notes drunkenly whenever he’s having a party and you’re not there but you forgot to lock your door so now he’s in your room and he’s bothering you, begging you and toying with you to get your attention, those fingers that have stolen your notebook away and held over your head while he smiles and stubbles around, getting you to chase him–they’re on your hips and you know they’re leaving bruises and you like that they’re leaving bruises.
You like it all because it’s so cold tonight and he’s so warm and he’s always so warm and you want more, more, more.
And he hovers over you, and you gasp. You hate how he teases you because he loves it so much, and that makes you love it. You love it.
It is cold tonight. There’s a blizzard raging right outside the doors to the library, stacking up snow higher and higher. You’re both trapped, but you don’t want to leave. Because despite all of the cold, you’re both very, very warm.
~~~
The next morning, when people find the two of you, they blame it on that little notion that runs through everyone’s minds when people are stuck together during a cold blizzard, because surely that’s what it must be.
And surely that’s why your cheeks are flushed and full of embarrassment, because although everybody knows how weird it can be, during such a life-threatening situation, it’s a desperate attempt to stay warm.
So when they found you the next morning, thankfully safe and sound and wrapped around each other to try and preserve warmth, they were glad that you two innocent, poor little students, who must have been so scared to be trapped in a building without electricity and heat, were going to be okay, and that they could safely escort you out of the building and back to your dormitories with an official apology.
Until one of you asked if they could leave so you could finish what you’d started.
Summary: Trapped in the university library due to a raging blizzard outside, you are forced to endure the cold night with the man you hate the most: the player who lives in the dorm across from you, Tooru Oikawa. But with tensions and anxieties at an all-time high, you begin to realize your feelings for Oikawa aren’t quite what you thought they were, especially when all he wants to do is keep you warm.
A/N: I took like six hours to write this??? Bruh callin’ amateur hour in this bitch eh, whatever, enjoy!
Word count: 5345
Snow, layers upon layers, piled up outside of the library. The glass doors of the library had long frosted over, and inside the lights began to flicker. Outside every window was a blanket of white, everything in the distance far too foggy to see through the flurry of flakes.
The lone television suspended above the library’s main desk played the same succession of videos–static with white noise, a scrolling of text warning people to stay inside, three loud buzzes, then more static with white noise. It far overpowered the sound of the library’s heater kicking on, its automatic settings desperately trying to battle the cold that succeeded in invading the closed and locked library.
You sighed, sparing another glance at the exit and the wall of snow that kept rising against it. Minutes ago you’d tried pushing open the doors, only succeeding in chilling the tips of your fingers against the frozen metal. Ever since then, your fingers never truly seemed to recover.
Just your luck; first a small windstorm had delayed your flight back home for Christmas Break, and now, just when you’d given up and decided to work on a few research projects while being stuck at the university, you were trapped inside the library.
But you weren’t alone. No, of course not. As if fate had it out for you, you were stuck inside the building with the one guy you despised with your whole being.
“Gum?”
Oikawa held out a piece, a small smirk dancing on the edge of his lips. When all he received in response was a blank stare, he shrugged and unwrapped it, tossing it in his mouth before toying with the wrapper.
The both of you sat behind the librarian’s desk in tall, wooden stools. It was the only place with service, and it was where you had both scurried to the second the storm warning chimed through the announcement speakers.
While you had attempted to push through the doors, Oikawa had called the school’s main office, warning them of your predicament. Of course, he’d cut himself off halfway through with a cackle at the sight of the door slamming back in your face, but nonetheless he’d gotten a simple, if completely undesirable response.
“The both of you need to stay in there and not leave. It’s far too dangerous to go out into the blizzard right now. Tomorrow morning it should be calmed down, and then we’ll send people over to get you. For now, try to stay warm.”
When he relayed this message to you, you had him put them on speaker so you could hear it with your own two ears.
Pop.
Alas, it was the truth. You were stuck.
Pop.
With your worst enemy. Alone.
Pop.
During a blizzard.
“Will you stop doing that?” you hissed, heaving a glare at him.
Oikawa froze in his seat, a gum-bubble the size of a golf ball slowly deflating with a wheeze. He raised his hands in surrender. “Excuse me for trying to find some source of joy in this miserable place. Maybe you should try having fun once in a while, YN.”
Your cheeks burned in shame at that. “I have fun!”
A single brown brow rose. “Do you?”
“Yes,” you folded your arms across your chest, “I do. But unlike you, I don’t do it at the expense of other people’s sanity.”
Long ago, amidst your third week of your first year at the university, you learned that you and Oikawa were two vastly different people. In co-ed dorms, he lived just across from you, and it seemed he reminded you of that every other night.
While loud music boomed across the hall and eventually spread throughout the building, you sat inside your dorms, hands over the headphones over your ears. You were usually leant over a textbook, pencil and notes abandoned long ago as you tried to comprehend the words despite not being able to hear your own thoughts.
Your roommate would slip out to join the fun, meeting and laughing with someone who had knocked on your door. Then that someone had tapped a single finger on your shoulder, squatting down beside your desk and leaning his head to one side.
As usual, a teasing smile danced on his lips. “You gonna join us, or sit here studying like a Debbie Downer?”
You’d be the first–and most certainly not the last–to admit that he was attractive. Brown hair exploding in tufts and swept across his forehead. Bronze eyes twinkling in the light of your lamp. Thin, pink lips pulled into a goading grin.
“Come on, I promise the water’s warm.”
It was at that moment that you started to hate him.
“Get out of my room.”
The smugness blanketing his face had dropped for a split second, and you genuinely wondered if you were the first to ever resist his charms. But how could you not, when in every second of your interaction with him, it felt like he was laughing at you?
Hesitantly, it seemed, he rose to his feet, stumbling a bit. You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was already drunk, but you hadn’t smelled it earlier when he was inches from your face.
“All right,” he chuckled, rising to his full height with his hands on his knees. Swiftly, he turned and made his way to your door, not bothering to look back at you again. “I know when I’m not wanted. Enjoy your studying, YN.”
How he’d learned your name, you never really. You’d figured he caught it on the first day of the one class you shared with him, English, amidst mandatory introductions. Since then, every time your name fell on his lips, he more sang it than said it, always in that sly tone of his.
You hated it. You hated him.
And now, as you spent the third day of Christmas Break locked inside alone with him in a freezing library, you found yourself despising him even more.
Pop.
“Well, YN, you should know better than anyone that I have a knack for driving people insane,” Oikawa hummed, long fingers folding the edges of his gum wrapper against the desk surface. Your eyes drawn to the action, you absentmindedly scoffed.
“Yes, I certainly do.”
His eyes darted to yours, an emotion flitting across them before dropping back down to his miniature origami. A chill ran up your spine.
“I’m going to go look for some blankets,” you sputtered out of the blue. You found yourself reflecting his shocked look, a little surprised at yourself at the outburst.
“Okay,” he grinned after a pause. “Hurry back soon.”
Ignoring the wink he offered you, you slipped out of your chair and left him alone behind the desk counter, effectively beginning your search for stray, abandoned coverings.
Instantly, you realized the rest of the library was significantly chillier than the desk up front. Though the heater was still pumping and hissing through the air vents above you, it was now rattling much more forcefully than before.
Must be the snow piling on top of the electrical system or something.
The fluorescent lights buzzed above you, still cutting off and flickering every few seconds as you passed bookshelf after labeled bookshelf. Signs labeled with genres and areas of study swung from the ceiling over rows of different-colored bindings. So distracted, you let out a yelp of pain after stubbing your toe against an abandoned book cart, plenty of go-backs filed one after the other in no discernible order.
“YN?” Far off, Oikawa’s voice called after you. Despite the distance you’d created between the two of you, he still must have heard your pained shout. A small part of you was surprised he bothered to acknowledge the noise at all.
Maybe he’s not a complete pain in the ass.
“Yeah, that was me, I’m fine! Just hit my foot on something!”
“Do you need help finding your way around? I’m sorry, I forgot my walking rope, so we’ll have to hold hands!”
Nevermind, still a dick.
“Fuck you!”
“That’s why I’m here!”
Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips to prevent giving in to his teasing further. With a few hissed curses under your breath, you continue venturing through the uninhabited building. Though you did find a few abandoned belongings, none of which were of much use. A few too small hoodies, one suspicious pair of sweatpants, and some stray sunglasses. One poor soul even forgot their backpack at one of the work tables, and despite your initial curiosity, you refrained from digging through it and instead left it where it was.
It was when you arrived at the individual work areas divided by wooden partitions that your search finally paid off. Because it was arranged against a line of floor-to-ceiling windows, it was significantly colder in this work area than any other place you’d come across. Luckily, that also meant there was a higher chance of you finding spare blankets–which you did.
One was still strewn across the back of a work chair, a black fur throw with no designs but a single tear at one corner, presumably where a tag had been. Another, this one cream-colored, knitted wool, sat in a crumpled pile on the very last desk of the entire area, arranged in the furthest corner of the library from the entrance. The bulb in the ceiling above this desk had been out ever since the first time you’d been in the library, so you weren’t surprised to figure that people crammed out naps between studying in this dark little corner.
While gathering the two–scratch that, there was another on the ground next to you–three blankets in your arms, you spared a look outside the windows. Frost and a glaze of ice covered each corner where metal met glass, and, because you were on the first floor, you could see how high the snow had piled by now. It reached as high as your hips, with more flakes joining or splatting against the pane every second.
The sun, you could see, was just barely setting, the gray of the sky growing darker. Soon enough, it was darker inside than it was outside.
The power. It had gone out.
“YN!”
Because the heater sputtered a few more clicks before kicking the bucket, you could barely hear Oikawa’s voice, far off and muffled, over the large distance you’d covered in the library. The lights above you no longer buzzed, and instead an unsettling silence took over the building.
“Oikawa! The lights!” You hugged the blankets to your chest with one straining arm, the other fumbling with your phone flashlight. You began the trek back to the front desk, squinting to try and make out shelves and stray books along the way. Despite the long-sleeved T-shirt you wore, a chill was beginning to nip at your skin, and you slowed to wrap a blanket around your shoulders.
“I know, the weight of the snow must have taken out the electrical box or something!” His voice was getting closer; he must have been making his way towards you in return.
Passing through the towering bookshelves, you made it out and turned a corner onto the main path they created. A shadow of a figure stood inches from your face.
“Shit!” You flinched back, kicking a leg out blindly in self-defense. The tip of your snow boot struck something hard, and a strangled groan escaped the person as they dropped to the floor. Now level with the light of your flashlight, the person was finally visible–Oikawa hugged his shin to his chest with clenched eyes and gritted teeth.
“Ow, ow, ow, owie!”
You winced, your guilt growing worse after realizing he had just been searching for you.
“Oh, sorry,” you cringed, dropping the blankets and hovering your hands over his coiled form. You wanted to help, you just weren’t sure how. “Do you… do you want some ice for that?”
The glare he threw you chilled you to the bone more than the weather outside.
“C’mon,” you hid a snigger behind your hand, straightening up and offering him the other, “it was just a joke. I really am sorry. Let’s get back to the front desk; I’ll help you.”
The huff he released ruffled the bangs on his forehead. “I should make you kiss it better,” he pouted, hand latching onto yours and pulling himself up. He almost yanked you down with him, but you’d stationed a hand on one of the shelves for support the second you felt his whole weight. You hadn’t expected it, but you supposed you should have guessed it–Oikawa’s body was packed with muscle from years of playing volleyball.
Even now, as the main setter of your school’s team, he had daily workouts that only made his body stronger. You’d passed him once during a warm autumn day; he was jogging around campus shirtless while you were on your way back to the dorms after just getting out of class. He was headed straight for you, and during that time, everything seemed to move in slow motion.
One, two, three… eight, you’d counted, eyes raking down his chest. The sweat glistened on his bare skin, bathing him in a glowing sheen due to the midday sun. A narrow waist trailed down, down to volleyball shorts hanging slanted on his hips. A smug snicker drew your gaze up, past a broad chest and shoulders and onto Oikawa’s simpering face.
“Like what you see?” his lips mouthed, but you couldn’t hear over the pounding in your ears, blood rushing to your face.
“You’re disgusting” were the only words you could think to say, though they were the exact opposite of how you felt. Maybe you were actually speaking to yourself, ashamed at the way your body reacted to a man you hated with your entire mind. Nonetheless, his face fell in shock, and you brushed past him, ignoring how he’d stopped dead in his tracks and continuing back to your dorm.
The view from that day was still imprinted in your mind, as though somehow your mind was afraid of forgetting it. Forgetting him.
But you would never forget how much you despised his attitude.
You released his hand as quickly as you’d grabbed it, reaching back down and gathering the blankets off the floor. A red flush took over your cheeks, and for the first time you were glad the electricity had gone out. Maybe the rest of your body was beginning to freeze, but your face was completely warm.
“I’m not kissing anything, perv.”
You tried to leave him stranded behind you, moving forward to return to the front desk through the darkness, but his longer strides easily caught up with you aside from a small limp.
“The night is still young, YN.”
Instead of a proper response, you settled for a scoff, avoiding the gaze you knew was locked on your face. An amused hum escaped the man beside you, but you blocked it out.
Finally back at the front desk, you spared another look outside. The sun had set completely now, a dark blue hue now in the sky as more and more snow collected against the glass. It seemed the warmth of the room had been sucked away completely, leaving behind a stale, frigid atmosphere that dried up the back of your throat.
“The blankets will certainly help,” Oikawa broke the silence behind you, “but we’ll need more than that. I snagged what I could from the backroom, some water bottles left in the fridge or so, but we need food.” When you shifted to face him, he nodded his head toward the vending machine next to the restrooms.
“You want to break into the vending machine?” you deadpanned.
“Unless you’ve got generous amounts of cash, of course,” he smiled sarcastically.
“Maybe we should wait until morning before we start committing crimes.”
Oikawa shrugged. “Desperate times, YN.”
“We’re not that desperate.”
“Not yet.” He eyed the cloud of air his words left, releasing a larger, experimental breath and watching the fog that hung in the air afterward.
The sight made your stomach clench a little. If the cold from the outside had seeped in that quickly, you had a feeling three measly blankets weren’t going to last the two of you through the night. A wave of goosebumps ran along your skin when you thought about the cold too much.
You swallowed. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. We just have to make it till morning.” The strain in your arms from holding onto the blankets too long finally drew your attention back to them, and you busied yourself with arranging the throws on the floor. You handed one to Oikawa, saving one for yourself before spreading the last on the floor behind the front desk.
The rough carpet floor was less unforgiving when covered with a blanket, but you knew that in a matter of minutes your backside would be numb either way. Oikawa snagged the water bottles off the counter and passed them down to you before settling on the floor himself, a distance far too close for your comfort, but the heat he was giving off silenced any of your complaints.
Then it was too quiet. You cracked open a water bottle and took a sip, then you opened it again and took another sip. All the while, you saw Oikawa watch you in your peripheral vision, and when his staring came to be too much, you scrambled for your phone.
“Shit.”
“What?”
You patted your hands down your legging pockets once more, then along the ground. You flapped around your blanket, hoping to hear a weight thump against the floor, but there was nothing.
“My phone’s missing.”
“When did you-”
“Dammit, I left it on the ground after kicking you!”
“Hey,” Oikawa screeched, offended. “You say that like it was my fault!”
“Well,” you rose to your feet, Oikawa following suit, “you were the one who scared the shit out of me!”
“Didn’t you know I was looking for you?” He followed you down the main walkway through the shelves, his presence inches from your back.
“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to materialize right in front of my face!” In effort to escape his suffocating presence, you quickened your pace, eyes on the ground but not really seeing anything.
“Oh, I’m sorry, my bad. Next time you go missing during a snowstorm, I’ll be sure to wear a bell so you know exactly where I am at all times.”
“That’s not what-”
Crack.
The both of you froze in place, argument out of mind in an instant.
“Was that…?”
“Uh oh.”
You both directed your attention to underneath your foot, where an object lay cracked from your aggressive stomping.
Dropping your face into your hands, you let out a loud groan. “Could this day get any worse?”
Oikawa had squatted down to investigate, nudging your leg out of the way before picking up your cracked phone. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was useless anyway.” He tapped and poked at the screen, toying with the buttons. “Looks like it was out of battery.”
“Fuckkkkk.” You tore it from his hands, performing your own investigations of pats and brushes along the screen before calling it quits. “Isn’t yours out too?”
Solemnly, he nodded, taking his phone out and allowing you to tap around on it before throwing it back in his pocket.
“So we’re fucked?”
“Majorly.”
The pair of you slumped back to the main desk, flopping onto the ground and wrapping back up in your blankets. A shiver of cold mixed with frustration had taken over your body in a short span of time, causing your breaths to escape with slight chatters of your teeth.
You could feel it now, on the tips of your fingers and the end of your nose. A chill seeped through your leggings and slid up your shirt sleeves, sinking into every pore and leaving your hair standing on end. Your muscles began that all-too familiar buzz, a slow but steady trembling in effort to get your blood moving. Your toes curled in your boots.
“It’s cold,” you commented, the words slipping out like an afterthought.
You thought he’d agree, hum, or even nod his head. Instead, Oikawa scooted closer to you on the blanket, enough that his upper arm brushed the end of your shoulder. Then, slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal, his arm rose and wrapped around you, not only covering you with his heat but also with his blanket, still soaked in the warmth from his body.
Mind blank, you didn’t move a muscle for what seemed to be five minutes after he’d moved to embrace you.
“Is this okay?” he’d whispered into the silence, voice soft yet hesitant.
“W-why?”
“You said you were cold.” He shifted a little, but didn’t move away. And surprisingly enough, you didn’t want him to. “I–didn’t want you to be cold.”
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you, an atmosphere of peace you never thought you’d experience with the brunette man in your life. His warmth left you in a sort of lethargic trance; you didn’t want to move away, though your mind was urging you to, nor did you have the energy to. For the first time, you wanted Oikawa close to you, and you didn’t want him to leave for a while.
You were exhausted.
Formerly, the two of you were both leaning back against the wall. Now, tucked into Oikawa’s side, your right arm pressed into the side of his chest while your left was cushioned a distance from the wall by Oikawa’s arm, wrapped sturdily around your shoulders and urging you to lean toward him instead.
Man, you were tired.
“YN?”
“Hmm?” Your eyes cracked back open, and you shifted your gaze to him, waiting.
His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes still closed as a single brown tuft of hair fell across his forehead. In the light the moon reflected off the snow, you could see the length of his lashes brushing the apples of his cheeks, the sharp edge of his jawline that you yearned to run a finger along. He didn’t bother to look at you for a response when he muttered, “Why do you hate me?”
The question zapped you to attention like a taser, guilt flooding your chest for a reason you didn’t quite think you knew. There was a strong urge in you to pull away from him, but the hand on your arm tightened, halting any drastic movements.
“I… I don’t…”
“I know you do,” he sighed, tongue running out along his lips. “Please, just tell me.” There was a sort of surrender in his voice you never thought you’d hear. For a second, you missed his smug tone. You missed the teasing lilt of his voice. You missed the Oikawa you knew.
You wanted him back.
“You’re weirding me out, Oikawa.” In this position, you couldn’t poke him in the cheek, so you settled for his thigh. He barely flinched, peeking a single eye open. “Go back to acting like that smug little shit I know you are.” His lips quirked up.
“I promise I’m still me, YN. I’m just a bit curious is all.”
“Yeah, well, it’s freaking me out. I want the normal you back.”
Wrong words.
“You do?” He was wide awake at that, head straightened up and eyes wide and at attention. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging.
“Nevermind.” You twisted in his grip to get your back facing him.
“No, no, noooo.” Both of his hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “Say it again. Say you want me again.”
“God, you’re such a perv,” you stutter, voice wavering with his movements.
“You’re so mean, YN!” he whines, finally releasing your shoulders. You think he’s given up and let down your guard slightly, a little curious at his expression. But when you turn your head to face him, two arms wrap around your waist, yanking you back and in between Oikawa’s outstretched legs.
“What the-” While you struggle in his arms, Oikawa only holds you closer, leaning back and taking you with him so your back rests against his front. He hooks his head over your shoulder, and you tense when you feel a breath of warm air against your ear.
A shiver tears through your body, but you’re relieved he doesn’t comment on it.
“Say it again, YN.” And he definitely feels the shiver that time. A breathless snicker heats up the skin of your neck, but you’re too trapped in his arms to escape the overwhelming feeling it erupts in you.
“God, I hate you,” you sigh instinctively.
Oikawa grows still. The fun and games are over, it seems, as he pulls his head away from your neck. The arms encircling your waist have become rigid.
There’s a thump against the wall. Then a pause. “Why?”
You bite your lip, and though the words are on the tip of your tongue, you can’t seem to force them out. You’re ashamed, embarrassed, regretful. All of those ugly feelings he pulls out of you every other day, you draw out of yourself in this moment.
“Oikawa, I-”
“Tooru,” he corrects.
Flustered, you continue, “Tooru… whenever you… you always just… I never…” You groan at your lack of words, throwing frustrated hands over your face. The heat in your body, though small, rises. “I just feel stupid around you.”
“Stupid?”
“Like an idiot.”
“Idiot?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Stop it.”
“Sorry,” he pauses, “I just… you think you feel stupid? Around me?”
You don’t understand what he means, so you stay silent.
“So… you feel like an idiot around me… why, exactly?”
“Because,” you wave your hands around, not really sure what your gestures are doing considering he can’t see them, “you just… you tease me all the time! And when we’re in class and you look at me and I just feel like I’ve got shit all over my face! And when you throw those stupid-ass parties, I feel so lame because it’s not like I don’t want to socialize, but I hate the way people act at parties! And then you come along and tell me that I should join, but I know it’s gonna fucking suck and I know you’re gonna see that I stick out during parties like a sore thumb and that makes me feel even worse and I-”
“YN!” A hand slips from your waist, slapping over your mouth and effectively cutting off your rambling. A disbelieved breath sounds behind you. “Jesus Christ, YN.”
And you feel like even more of an idiot. You take some pleasure in the fact that he can’t see you as tears begin springing in the corners of your eyes.
But then there’s a hard pressure against the back of your head. And then something soft against the back of your neck. “YN, YN, YN,” and you realize his lips are on your neck, his face buried into your hair, “God, you just… you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”
You didn’t know that.
“The fact that you can say all of that, and think all of that, and feel all of that, without realizing why I even do it at all drives me insane.” You feel his mouth move against you with every word, your skin growing hot under his breath. You try to speak against his hand, and thankfully he pulls it away when you do, returning it to your waist as though it doesn’t muddle your mind.
“What are you talking about?”
And he laughs like it’s the dumbest question in the world. And maybe it is, but you have to know.
His lips are on your neck one last time before he pulls away, leaning back against the wall once more and taking you with him. “YN,” his fingers twitch against your skin, the cold of them biting through the fabric of your shirt, “do you have feelings for me?”
And you feel like the biggest idiot of all, because you do.
You do have feelings for him, and you only just realized that now.
“Holy shit.”
Oikawa stiffens. “What?”
“I have feelings for you.” The words slip out before you can stop them, mostly because you’re still in disbelief. Did you really? After all this time of thinking you hated him, of hating how he teased you, you seriously had feelings for him and you didn’t even notice?
Stupid. So very stupid.
A loud scoff from Oikawa breaks you out of your stupor.
“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me nuts.”
And you can’t even turn around and call him an asshole because he’s turning you in his grip and pressing his lips against yours. The hand on your chin, the other on your hip, all to pull you closer, spin you around and tug you onto his lap without separating from you.
Your hands are in his hair, and you’re tugging, and it’s that whine you always hear whenever you don’t respond to his teasing, that needy one you thought you always hated because it just shakes you to your core but now you get it, you finally understand it. And those long fingers, the ones he always slams onto your notes drunkenly whenever he’s having a party and you’re not there but you forgot to lock your door so now he’s in your room and he’s bothering you, begging you and toying with you to get your attention, those fingers that have stolen your notebook away and held over your head while he smiles and stubbles around, getting you to chase him–they’re on your hips and you know they’re leaving bruises and you like that they’re leaving bruises.
You like it all because it’s so cold tonight and he’s so warm and he’s always so warm and you want more, more, more.
And he hovers over you, and you gasp. You hate how he teases you because he loves it so much, and that makes you love it. You love it.
It is cold tonight. There’s a blizzard raging right outside the doors to the library, stacking up snow higher and higher. You’re both trapped, but you don’t want to leave. Because despite all of the cold, you’re both very, very warm.
~~~
The next morning, when people find the two of you, they blame it on that little notion that runs through everyone’s minds when people are stuck together during a cold blizzard, because surely that’s what it must be.
And surely that’s why your cheeks are flushed and full of embarrassment, because although everybody knows how weird it can be, during such a life-threatening situation, it’s a desperate attempt to stay warm.
So when they found you the next morning, thankfully safe and sound and wrapped around each other to try and preserve warmth, they were glad that you two innocent, poor little students, who must have been so scared to be trapped in a building without electricity and heat, were going to be okay, and that they could safely escort you out of the building and back to your dormitories with an official apology.
Until one of you asked if they could leave so you could finish what you’d started.
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m back to my same old spiel of “it’s been a while” and “I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in (insert time) days!” Truth is, I just haven’t had the time to write like I know some of y’all haven’t had the time to read. However, I’m happy to be back, even if it is just for this one post. I hope y’all are doing good, and enjoy!
Word count: 1005
Bokuto Koutarou:
While his falling asleep on you is usually an accident (considering it’s much easier to admire you while he’s awake), he certainly always makes the best of the situation.
He nods off and his head slumps to your shoulder and instinctively you want to push him away because you just know him drooling is an inevitability but, no, a sleeping Bokuto is an adorable Bokuto.
He mumbles in his sleep. You’ve learned that from experience.
Black and white hairs tickle your neck but you don’t dare to scratch partly because one of his arms is already wrapped around you locking your own against your sides and partly because waking him would be a crime upon nature.
It only tickles for a few moments anyway because in a matter of seconds he’s curling in deeper, snuggling his forehead against your throat while his legs clamber into your lap.
It’s awkward. It’s hot. It’s not quite a boyfriend cuddling his girlfriend and more so a koala straddling a tree branch.
But it’s a classic Bokuto cuddle-bordering-on-suffocation situation so you settle in for what will be an awkward, hot bus ride.
And eventually you lean your head on his and fall asleep because, eh, why not.
Konoha totally has pictures that he sells to Bokuto later
Tsukishima Kei:
More often than not, when Tsukishima Kei falls asleep on the bus, he goes full turtle.
Blond head perched back on the top of the bus seat, headphones around his neck while his mouth hangs open in a soundless snore. This dude is usually conked.
(He’s learned to sit near the front of the bus lest he risk another session of “What can Kageyama and Tanaka throw into Tsukishima’s mouth?”)
So when his head lolls to the side and rests ever so delicately on the edge of your shoulder, you freeze like a deer in headlights.
This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so don’t you dare screw it up.
However… his glasses press really hard into the bony part of your shoulder.
At first, you try to suffer through the pain, taking timed, measured breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth.
Then you contemplate humming to distract yourself, but you drop that strategy the instant he twitches on your first note.
It’s too much. Come on, there’s no way there isn’t a bruise there by now!
The constant digging of plastic into your bone is insufferable at this point. You needed to eradicate the problem if this rare event was to continue.
You inch your right hand up ever so slowly, keeping your breathing steady so as to not frighten the flighty creature resting upon you.
You turn your head just a touch and your chin brushes the hair atop his head, but he doesn’t disturb one bit at the slight tousle–thank God.
With two pinching fingers you grab the frames and remove them with the delicate touch of butterfly wings.
Almost there… almost… have them…
Then Tsukishima stirs.
“Screw it.” You yank the glasses away and drop them into your lap before returning your hand to the side of his face.
“YN, what are you-” he cuts off in a grunt as you shove his head back onto your shoulder.
“Shhhh.”
“YN.” His voice is muffled from his face being smushed into your shirt.
“Shhhh. Don’t ruin it.”
“YN-”
“Escape is futile.” You pat his cheek as the rest of his body squirms like a fish caught in a net. “Accept your fate, Tsukki.”
Iwaizumi Hajime:
Sticky. Sweaty. Warm.
You have no doubt that as soon as Iwaizumi wakes up, you will have to peel your shirt from his face like a sticker.
But you figure he deserves the rest. He played a great game and is understandably worn out.
And you’d be damned if you didn’t want to play pillow for him from time to time.
No, he’s not your boyfriend, but you certainly wish he was.
One of his hands fell onto your thigh the second he drifted off and your own hovers over it, an eagle waiting to land.
God, he’s so warm. Like a personal heater. The bus was pretty cold too considering Iwaizumi had the bright idea of leaving your seat’s window open for whatever reason.
The first time you complained about the cold, he offered you his jacket. However, two seconds after his offer your cheeks were burning enough to warm the rest of your body so refused.
And now here you were, almost losing consciousness yourself on account of how comfortable you’d grown in this position.
A nap… surely a nap wouldn’t hurt.
Today’s game had asked for a five a.m. arrival at the school, one seven hour bus ride down to the opponent, and one returning. It was understandable that you were exhausted yourself.
The eagle landed and your drooping eyes slipped closed. Iwaizumi’s hair–so soft–felt like the perfect cushion as you slipped into warm, deep sleep.
The soft pressure on Iwaizumi’s head allowed for a small smile to grow on his face.
Fucking finally.
Just one eye peered open and though he couldn’t see much, your hand resting flat on his just so happened to be the perfect sight.
He waited until your breathing truly evened out before moving, slowly flipping his hand palm up and intertwining your fingers between his.
His eyes began to blur once more and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze before giving in to the tiredness completely, grinning at the soft sigh you released.
hi guys as some of you have noticed i haven’t been active a lot recently. i have been on a bit of a hiatus and i don’t know what i am going to come back in general, though i slowly want to get back into it. i hope you guys can understand but i’m always up for a few hc requests :)
