One, Oikawa is planning something that Iwaizumi would not approve of right away. This tends to vary so drastically that he has literally no way of predicting what it could be. It's been like this for as long as he can remember.
Two, Oikawa is in the sad state that he finds him in when he opens the door. There is no real way for him to describe this without his chest aching in the worst of ways, so he doesn't try.
Instead he just sighs heavily, straightening up and spreading his arms. ]
[ today, it would be option number two. earlier at practice, oikawa had felt his knee starting to twinge, to downright blinding levels of pain; he'd done a fairly good job at keeping it under wraps, but that combined with a harsh conversation with ushijima a few days before had been enough to take the perfect glowing facade of tooru oikawa and hit it with a hammer so the whole thing came falling down around his feet.
there's no one in the world oikawa would allow to see him like this besides iwaizumi. there's no one who knows the real him like he does, and that's why he just gives him a small, watery smile, murmring-- ] Iwa-chan.
[ --before he just. gives in and takes the stilted step forward on his good leg to drape himself over his shorter best friend, his arms winding around his back and fingers clutching into his shirt. he doesn't bother saying anything--for a moment, he doesn't need to. ]
[ For a long time, Iwaizumi was the bigger one all around - Oikawa was short and delicate almost despite his blatant boyishness, and between his size and personality he was a great target for people that were jealous of who he was. Self-appointed defender from a young age, Hajime might beat sense into his best friend now and keep his ego in check, but none of that has changed in a good ten years.
He wraps his arms around Oikawa the moment he falls onto him, basically, one big palm cradling his skull and the other fisting in the back of his shirt. It doesn't take a lot for him to know that something is up with him, just the smallest twitch, the shift in his weight, the change in voice and expression.
Carefully, he leans back while holding him protectively, taking all of his weight rather than even let him put all of it on his good leg. ]
[ oikawa stands like that for a long time. if there's something about iwaizumi hajime oikawa will always be able to count on, its his ability to be oikawa's support. his person to toss to in times of worry or stress. his rock. iwaizumi has been there with him for ten years and oikawa will count on him for ten more, twenty more. he feels stupid right now, stupid and weak and vulnerable. he knows iwaizumi will probably have a lecture for him about how he shouldn't overpractice on his own, because that's exactly what he was doing.
the fact that he's here shows how badly it must have hurt; few things will cause oikawa to swallow his pride.
as his big fingers curl into the back of his shirt, oikawa feels the tears well up in his eyes until he's crying, fat, ugly tears that run into the collar of iwaizumi's shirt and into his neck. he was trying to hold it in, but at this point, he can't--not only could he not beat ushiwaka, could he not show him wrong (how good aoba jousai was, how he didn't need to be at shiratorizawa, how he was wrong, wrong, wrong) but his body even refused to let him keep training to try to.
he doesn't move. not for a few minutes. right now, oikawa needs iwaizumi to take care of him more than anything. ]
[ After running through a quick mental list of what could have caused this to happen to Oikawa, Iwaizumi mentally writes out his eventual lecture because one of those things - the thing that causes him to almost limp in even one step - is the thing that's going to get him put under the knife before he turns twenty. It's the one thing that he never could protect Oikawa from, no matter how hard he tried, because even now he's still destroying himself every day that he pushes himself too far.
And now he's going to fucking fall to pieces because of their loss, because of their supposed failure.
At least Iwaizumi will be there to catch all the pieces, hold them tightly together so that nothing is truly lost. Like now, where he breathes in heavily before exhaling in a soft murmur, soothing nonsense in Oikawa's ear as he feels the tears soaking the collar of his shirt. His fingers stroke through his hair gently, and all he does for a long moment is stand there as he just... lets Oikawa get it out.
But then he shifts, hand dropping from his head so he can close hte door. His next move is to drop both hands, hefting Oikawa up by the thighs as carefully as he can so that he doesn't provoke his knee. It's a practiced movement, and his only warning besides the lingering touch is a small - ] C'mon, Tooru.
Edited (oops let's use the right word snow) 2015-07-16 04:32 (UTC)
I can walk. [ he protests this quietly, but it has no bite to it at all--more like he felt like he just had to say it, because his pride flares up at just about everything relating to his knee, and this is no different. but the protest is weak, because ultimately, oikawa would rather let iwaizumi take care of him, for once, and he slumps into him, gingerly winding his arms around his shoulders and trying not to flinch.
this mostly results in him just biting his lip, furious. furious at his stupid body for giving out. furious for his stupid, talentless hands. furious that no matter how hard he worked, sometimes it never, never felt like enough. this spiral of perfectionism and self loathing basically made up oikawa's being, and at the moment, they were driving a hateful knife into his back. they could have won. if oikawa had practiced more, if he'd perfected his serve, if he'd perfected his tosses, lifted this one to hanamaki, another to mattsun, given over more to iwachan...
its his name that snaps him out of this dark process, the quiet "c'mon, tooru" and oikawa just drops his cheek to bury his head in iwaizumi's neck, holding enough of himself up so that iwaizumi can carry him easily. ]
I know you can. [ Iwaizumi doesn't argue, and his voice doesn't raise. Instead, he's very calm, very placid. Not necessarily peaceful, really, but he plays at being unconcerned very well as he adjusts how he holds his best friend. Oikawa may be that bit taller than him, but that doesn't change the fact that he's gotten stronger and stronger with every passing year, and he'll get as strong as he needs to to make sure that he can carry Oikawa, can hit his tosses as hard as he can, can grant every wish that his best friend has. ] But, right now, you don't have to.
[ Carefully, he moves his arm underneath Oikawa to make sure that his weight is supported just right. He has to adjust them both a little, but after that he heads into the house proper. Before he goes to his room he swings into the kitchen, popping open the freezer to grab hold of a cold pack that he and his parents have been stocking up on ever since he and Oikawa started playing volleyball.
Especially after he nearly blew out his knee.
Without further ado, Iwaizumi makes his way to his room to deposit Oikawa on his bed. He was going to study, lose himself to words and numbers instead of their loss, but now? Now, he has to take care of Oikawa. Nothing, not volleyball, not school, nothing has been or ever will be as important as Oikawa Tooru. ]
[ it's clear within even a millisecond of observation that oikawa hates this. he hates all of it. he hates the look on iwaizumi's face--the concern, the worry, the fact that he put that there. for someone who is a spoiled brat about most things, when it comes to his knee? he hates to be coddled and just looks bitter and unhappy as he gets deposited, putting both of his hands on the back of the bed and using that to scoot backwards enough that his back can touch the wall, legs straight out in front of him. his knee is throbbing, the twinge so powerful it makes him want to cry, and he drops his head back against the wall with a thunk, staring up at the ceiling in a numb sense of nothing. he's not sure what emotions he should even start with.
anger. fear. contempt. sadness. bitterness. any of them would do the trick.
finally, he speaks when iwaizumi's fiddling with something around the room. ] Not going to tell me I told you so?
[ but the nastiness in his tone isn't for iwaizumi. it's for himself. oikawa tooru hates his body, hates his mind, hates himself for failing, failing, failing. ]
Mmm... [ Iwaizumi sets the cold pack down on the edge of the bed, calmly going through his things rather than paying any attention to Oikawa. (This is a lie, he's so finely tuned to Oikawa that he knows every little thing that he's doing, knows where his mind has gone, why his voice is like that, what look must be on his face, how he's moved to sit up.) He opens his closet and pulls out the leg support pillow he bought, specifically, for the idiot boy on his bed right now.
He knows how much Oikawa hates it, hates everything that comes about because of his knee, but at least he lets Hajime see him like this. Take care of him.
Turning and approaching the bed again, he sits down and puts the support pillow at the foot, grabbing one of his pillows instead. With a bit of a fluff and a huff, he drops it into his lap and very, very gingerly picks up Oikawa's leg to set it on top. ] You're obviously already killing yourself enough right now, so my job isn't to scold you.
[ It's to take care of you, his touch says, as Iwaizumi carefully arranges the cold pack over his knee and starts to massage his calf, fingers deft and practiced as he works to take the strain caused by his knee away first. ]
[ oikawa tips his head backwards against the headboard even as iwaizumi's hands move over his leg, rubbing into the aching, sore muscles. he doesn't look at him because his pride's too great--tooru knows he's going to cry, and it does nothing but make him feel weaker and angrier. his knee is aching, throbbing so badly that it's sending stabs of pain up and down his thigh and his calf, and iwaizumi's touch is immediately soothing, helping to rub some of the neverending ache away.
he reaches up with one hand and runs his fingers through his bangs, pausing with his head on his forehead to cover his eyes with his long fingers. it feels a lot easier to think with self hatred than it does anything else--oikawa would never blame a single person on his team except for himself, because it's his job to make them their best. oikawa works and strives to make everyone on his team excel to 110% of their ability, and today, against shiratorizawa?
he failed them.
again.
the first tear drops out, sliding down his cheek, and he laughs, something bitter and self deprecating and straight up nasty. ] Iwa-chan's pitying me, I've really gone too far this time.
You went too far ages ago. [ That, that comes out in a harsher voice, an actual scolding, but still Iwaizumi remains otherwise calm and single-minded. His fingers work slowly, devoting every ounce of his attention to every stretch of sore muscle. He'll move up to his thigh, next, but when he's been limping he knows just where the most strain will have been built up. This is a process, one he's done an astounding amount of research for, and he knows each step that he needs to go through.
Breathing out a slow, steady sigh, he bows his head, letting Oikawa have a moment of privacy in their enclosed space. Once he's done with the first round of kneading out his aching body, he'll tend to the aching heart that belongs to his captain.
As the ace, it's his job to carry his team to victory, to bolster his teammates. As captain, it's Oikawa's job to bring out their potential, to keep them strong. They're both feeling the weight of the loss, the guilt of not bringing victory to their team, but Oikawa is the one that has the fifty tons of self-loathing and tender ego to contend with. ]
[ oikawa doesn't even flinch when iwaizumi yells at him--he's used to it. in fact, having him scold him feels even more familiar than him not doing it, somehow helps to soften the wall he built up around his heart to keep from showing anything on his face. for the past five or six yeas of his life, oikawa has been a fake person, constantly shifting and putting on façades and different faces in order to hide things. the times when his real emotions come out can run the gauntlet from softer with iwaizumi to something ugly and hideous, the middle schooler who was ready to punch kageyama tobio in the face for his sheer existence. this ugly part of him is always there under the surface, but more often than not, it's directed at oikawa himself.
people can dislike him, but no one hates oikawa tooru quite like oikawa tooru does.
he finally drops his hand from his face, watching iwaizumi as he tips his head back, down his nose to see his best friend. he can't see his face like this, and he wonders if it's better that way--if he can't see the look on his face. he says it's not pity, but he wonders how much of that is true. ]
No? [ he doesn't move his leg because he can't, and he huffs a little bit as he looks away again, off to the side. ] I can't be good enough, Iwa-chan. No matter what I do. That's pitiable.
[ Iwaizumi can feel a full twitch in his eye, the tension that knits his brow together, the way his shoulders go tight in response to the tone of Oikawa's voice. Again, he doesn't need to look up to know what his face is doing, and he wants to shake him, to grab him by the shoulders and yell in his face about how wrong he is about himself. About how he's the most devoted person that Hajime has ever known, about how he put his all into volleyball and into supporting Seijou that he ruined himself, cut years off of his pro career just for his high school team.
He wants to take him by the face and tell him that his real personality, beneath all those horrible layers, is fucking beautiful despite what his insecurities tell him. That he's never pitied him and never will, and will always help him out of the dark.
Slowly, he sits up, eyes keen but soft as he sets his hands on Oikawa's shin. ]
You're more than good enough, Oikawa. You always have been. I don't know where the hell you got the idea that you aren't.
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no subject
One, Oikawa is planning something that Iwaizumi would not approve of right away. This tends to vary so drastically that he has literally no way of predicting what it could be. It's been like this for as long as he can remember.
Two, Oikawa is in the sad state that he finds him in when he opens the door. There is no real way for him to describe this without his chest aching in the worst of ways, so he doesn't try.
Instead he just sighs heavily, straightening up and spreading his arms. ]
no subject
there's no one in the world oikawa would allow to see him like this besides iwaizumi. there's no one who knows the real him like he does, and that's why he just gives him a small, watery smile, murmring-- ] Iwa-chan.
[ --before he just. gives in and takes the stilted step forward on his good leg to drape himself over his shorter best friend, his arms winding around his back and fingers clutching into his shirt. he doesn't bother saying anything--for a moment, he doesn't need to. ]
no subject
He wraps his arms around Oikawa the moment he falls onto him, basically, one big palm cradling his skull and the other fisting in the back of his shirt. It doesn't take a lot for him to know that something is up with him, just the smallest twitch, the shift in his weight, the change in voice and expression.
Carefully, he leans back while holding him protectively, taking all of his weight rather than even let him put all of it on his good leg. ]
no subject
the fact that he's here shows how badly it must have hurt; few things will cause oikawa to swallow his pride.
as his big fingers curl into the back of his shirt, oikawa feels the tears well up in his eyes until he's crying, fat, ugly tears that run into the collar of iwaizumi's shirt and into his neck. he was trying to hold it in, but at this point, he can't--not only could he not beat ushiwaka, could he not show him wrong (how good aoba jousai was, how he didn't need to be at shiratorizawa, how he was wrong, wrong, wrong) but his body even refused to let him keep training to try to.
he doesn't move. not for a few minutes. right now, oikawa needs iwaizumi to take care of him more than anything. ]
no subject
And now he's going to fucking fall to pieces because of their loss, because of their supposed failure.
At least Iwaizumi will be there to catch all the pieces, hold them tightly together so that nothing is truly lost. Like now, where he breathes in heavily before exhaling in a soft murmur, soothing nonsense in Oikawa's ear as he feels the tears soaking the collar of his shirt. His fingers stroke through his hair gently, and all he does for a long moment is stand there as he just... lets Oikawa get it out.
But then he shifts, hand dropping from his head so he can close hte door. His next move is to drop both hands, hefting Oikawa up by the thighs as carefully as he can so that he doesn't provoke his knee. It's a practiced movement, and his only warning besides the lingering touch is a small - ] C'mon, Tooru.
no subject
this mostly results in him just biting his lip, furious. furious at his stupid body for giving out. furious for his stupid, talentless hands. furious that no matter how hard he worked, sometimes it never, never felt like enough. this spiral of perfectionism and self loathing basically made up oikawa's being, and at the moment, they were driving a hateful knife into his back. they could have won. if oikawa had practiced more, if he'd perfected his serve, if he'd perfected his tosses, lifted this one to hanamaki, another to mattsun, given over more to iwachan...
its his name that snaps him out of this dark process, the quiet "c'mon, tooru" and oikawa just drops his cheek to bury his head in iwaizumi's neck, holding enough of himself up so that iwaizumi can carry him easily. ]
no subject
[ Carefully, he moves his arm underneath Oikawa to make sure that his weight is supported just right. He has to adjust them both a little, but after that he heads into the house proper. Before he goes to his room he swings into the kitchen, popping open the freezer to grab hold of a cold pack that he and his parents have been stocking up on ever since he and Oikawa started playing volleyball.
Especially after he nearly blew out his knee.
Without further ado, Iwaizumi makes his way to his room to deposit Oikawa on his bed. He was going to study, lose himself to words and numbers instead of their loss, but now? Now, he has to take care of Oikawa. Nothing, not volleyball, not school, nothing has been or ever will be as important as Oikawa Tooru. ]
no subject
anger. fear. contempt. sadness. bitterness. any of them would do the trick.
finally, he speaks when iwaizumi's fiddling with something around the room. ] Not going to tell me I told you so?
[ but the nastiness in his tone isn't for iwaizumi. it's for himself. oikawa tooru hates his body, hates his mind, hates himself for failing, failing, failing. ]
no subject
He knows how much Oikawa hates it, hates everything that comes about because of his knee, but at least he lets Hajime see him like this. Take care of him.
Turning and approaching the bed again, he sits down and puts the support pillow at the foot, grabbing one of his pillows instead. With a bit of a fluff and a huff, he drops it into his lap and very, very gingerly picks up Oikawa's leg to set it on top. ] You're obviously already killing yourself enough right now, so my job isn't to scold you.
[ It's to take care of you, his touch says, as Iwaizumi carefully arranges the cold pack over his knee and starts to massage his calf, fingers deft and practiced as he works to take the strain caused by his knee away first. ]
no subject
he reaches up with one hand and runs his fingers through his bangs, pausing with his head on his forehead to cover his eyes with his long fingers. it feels a lot easier to think with self hatred than it does anything else--oikawa would never blame a single person on his team except for himself, because it's his job to make them their best. oikawa works and strives to make everyone on his team excel to 110% of their ability, and today, against shiratorizawa?
he failed them.
again.
the first tear drops out, sliding down his cheek, and he laughs, something bitter and self deprecating and straight up nasty. ] Iwa-chan's pitying me, I've really gone too far this time.
no subject
Breathing out a slow, steady sigh, he bows his head, letting Oikawa have a moment of privacy in their enclosed space. Once he's done with the first round of kneading out his aching body, he'll tend to the aching heart that belongs to his captain.
As the ace, it's his job to carry his team to victory, to bolster his teammates. As captain, it's Oikawa's job to bring out their potential, to keep them strong. They're both feeling the weight of the loss, the guilt of not bringing victory to their team, but Oikawa is the one that has the fifty tons of self-loathing and tender ego to contend with. ]
But it's never been pity, moron. Not once.
no subject
people can dislike him, but no one hates oikawa tooru quite like oikawa tooru does.
he finally drops his hand from his face, watching iwaizumi as he tips his head back, down his nose to see his best friend. he can't see his face like this, and he wonders if it's better that way--if he can't see the look on his face. he says it's not pity, but he wonders how much of that is true. ]
No? [ he doesn't move his leg because he can't, and he huffs a little bit as he looks away again, off to the side. ] I can't be good enough, Iwa-chan. No matter what I do. That's pitiable.
no subject
He wants to take him by the face and tell him that his real personality, beneath all those horrible layers, is fucking beautiful despite what his insecurities tell him. That he's never pitied him and never will, and will always help him out of the dark.
Slowly, he sits up, eyes keen but soft as he sets his hands on Oikawa's shin. ]
You're more than good enough, Oikawa. You always have been. I don't know where the hell you got the idea that you aren't.