aroceu: (husband)
black slacks with accentuating offwhite pinstripes ([personal profile] aroceu) wrote2016-01-16 08:06 am

WIP Amnesty: Oikawa/Suga collab

So [personal profile] necessarian and I wrote this all in January 2016 (as it's backdated) and... we had no idea where it was going. We didn't talk about it beforehand. We mostly Round Robined it. So this is what we ended up coming up with. (WIP of course.) G.

It was a dark and stormy night—the romantic poets and the renaissance artists would attest that nature bent to the whims of their mood, changing its course for their emotions and defying seasons on the merest suggestion of sadness. Of course, this was anthropocentric, introspective, self-centred wishful thinking. There was absolutely no other explanation, though, for why Oikawa's mood had plummeted that afternoon, and along with it, the weather. Now, he's reaping the grim rewards of his hubris—a thunderstorm, all bells and whistles, and there he is without an umbrella, staring out the window of the public library where he'd been studying and willing the storm cell to pass as soon as possible, thanks, so he can walk home dry.

He sighed, propping his chin in his hand and wistfully waiting for the rain to stop. It was no use, though, as it poured down harder, smearing the sidewalks outside, like wet paint with no intention of drying. Oikawa was experienced in having his patience tested, as a year of captaining volleyball would show -- still, that was no comparison for the spontaneity of the weather.

Few pedestrians slipped on the sidewalk from outside; Oikawa offered them no sympathy. Behind him, he could hear the librarians saying that the building was about to close.

Slumping down further, he groaned. He contemplated just staying where he was, suffering through the night under the desk. He thought he might even get away with playing dead. Maybe they'd load him into an ambulance, and at least he could get away dry. He wasn't often prone to catastrophising, but there was something about the year ending that brought out the worst in him, and he didn't have the energy to talk himself out of this mood.

So, he did what he did best. He flopped forwards with his head on his hands, just avoiding the hard wood of the table, and pretending it wasn't happening. And then, as all hope seemed lost, he heard a voice from somewhere behind him, the voice, no doubt, of a guardian angel—perhaps even a guardian angel with an umbrella. "Hey, are you alright there?"

Oikawa turned. Over his shoulder he saw -- arguably not an angel -- but a stranger, staring down at Oikawa with concern. Oikawa's stomach flipped, because this stranger was not exactly unattractive. He was peering down at Oikawa like he was searching for signs of life.

"Questionably," he responded, flickering his eyes down. The stranger did not have an umbrella.

He did, however, have a delightful laugh. "That's better than a no," he said, expression clearing up. "You looked like you were despairing the point of your existence so I thought I should check up on you."

"Oh, it's fine, it's fine," said Oikawa, waving a hand. "Don't mind me, I'm perfectly alright here."

Through the overhead speakers, they heard the announcement of the library about to close.

The stranger's eyes twinkled when he asked, "Do you want to get out of here?"

For a moment, Oikawa couldn't do anything but blink up at the stranger. He told himself that he absolutely was not dumbstruck by the stranger's not-unattractiveness, just shocked by his casual tone. "It's pouring," Oikawa said, kind of like he was talking to a disobedient first year.

"So?" the stranger asked, still smiling brighter than the flashes of lightning out the window.

"I don't have an umbrella," Oikawa pointed out, "and neither do you, by the looks of it."

The stranger put a finger to his lip and hummed like what Oikawa had said gave him cause for deep contemplation. That mischeivousness never left his face, and it made Oikawa a little dizzy.

"You're right, of course!" the stranger said. "But either way we'll be kicked out. So why don't we make a run for it?"

It was nothing short of the worst idea anyone had ever come up with, but in that moment, Oikawa couldn't think of anything more perfect. "Okay," he said, getting to his feet. The stranger grinned and made for the exit, and Oikawa followed, almost entranced, but still lucid, wondering when he'd snap out of whatever had come over him.

"Ready?" the stranger asked. He held the door open, and already lashes of rain were coming through and leaving dark speckles down Oikawa's jeans.

Oikawa took a deep breath. "Ready."

He sprinted first -- for a split second he thought that maybe this was a prank, but when he glanced behind him, the stranger was right there, laughing and running with him. Neither of them were wearing anything with a hood -- the rain hit the stranger's head hard, making his luminescent hair darken a bit as they journeyed through the streets.

The buses and cars in the city sloshed water onto the pavements. Oikawa called, "This was a terrible idea!" Still, he felt strangely giddy, leaping over a crack in the sidewalk as they ran.

"You're not stopping!" The stranger made his way to Oikawa's side, panting a little but beaming brightly. "I'm Suga, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

"Oi-Oikawa," Oikawa managed, through his unsteady breathing. Suga took out his hand and Oikawa shook it, an excited thrum of electricity running through his veins when their skin touched.

"So, Oikawa," Suga said, grinning, "where are you headed?"

Oikawa looked down at his sodden book bag. Okay, so he'd fail his exams because his study notes would be ruined. No big deal, right? At least he didn't have his laptop on him. "Well, I /was/ going to head home," he said.

"But now you've changed your mind," Suga said.

/Have I changed my mind?/ he thought. There was something liberating about running through the rain, something that made him feel that he didn't just have one option but a plethora of choices before him, and he could do absolutely anything he wanted. It was a dangerous thought, and a dangerous impulse to do something reckless, but it called to him, and he answered.

"I've changed my mind," he agreed. "What about you? Do you have anywhere to be?"

Suga hummed. "I've got a number of places I could be, but right now it looks like my choices are leaving you, or staying." He looked like he was laughing, though he wasn't.

Oikawa's heart thumped -- the flirting was not lost on him. "I suppose I wouldn't mind if you stuck around," he said. Above them, lightning flashed and the storm rumbled between the dark, billowy clouds. "We could -- "

"Find somewhere to get dry?" Suga suggested.

And though Oikawa was dripping terribly on the ground, his underwear feeling soaked through like it would take ages for him to get the water off his body again, Suga had his head cocked knowingly like he had an idea of where they could go. "Okay," he agreed, smiling.

Suga gestured. They'd stopped running now; it was no use, as the rainwater splashed through their sneakers. Suga, despite his wetness, looked comfortable under the darkened sky, shirt sticking to his back, messenger bag over his shoulder. "My place is over the hill," he said, pointing. "We can spend some time there."

"Oh so soon?" Oikawa teased. "And /some/ time? What exactly do you have planned for me, Suga-chan?"

Suga winked. He actually /winked/. Oikawa could barely believe it, but the flirtatious tone to their conversation probably should have warned him. His heart fluttered with excitement.

"Well," Suga said, "you'll just have to find out."

It's the right answer, Oikawa thought. He /wanted/ to find out, he wanted for nothing more. In fact, he could probably just stare at Suga's smile for a few hours and he'd be satisfied with that, but there was the possibility of more and -- okay, Oikawa had never really gambled on hooking up with a stranger he met in a library, but now that the option had opened itself up he couldn't reasonably say no.

"You coming?" Suga asked over his shoulder, already a few paces ahead.

"You bet," Oikawa said, striding to catch up.

Getting back to Suga's place was a whirlwind in time -- it still felt like Oikawa was watching the world through tinted glasses. Suga-tinted glasses, if he was going to be honest; if Suga asked him anything in those moments, Oikawa would've answered with a straight response, more honest than he would ever admit to himself being.

But Suga just caught his eye more than once as they journeyed through the rain, smiling like he knew he was on Oikawa's mind.

Suga lived in a tall building in the center of the city, near imperceptible; Oikawa couldn't recall seeing it before. He said as much to Suga, who laughed and said, "I have an ability to make myself look indistinct." He said it so casually that Oikawa thought he must be  deprecating.

"You're not indistinct," he said to Suga immediately.

Suga flashed him a grin. They were dripping wet onto the tile and front rug, and Suga said, "Thank you for the compliment."

That threw Oikawa -- something so earnest couldn't be sarcastic, but he couldn't quite tell what Suga was thinking. Actually, Oikawa had built his entire reputation on being able to understand /people/ better than anything else, but here was Suga with a small sheepish smile on his face. Suga bent down to take his shoes off, but he might also have been ducking to cover for a blush.

"I meant it," Oikawa said, as firmly as he could -- a shiver ran down his spine, probably from the cold, and his fingers fumbled as he made to unbutton his coat.

For a second after that, Suga just stared at him. Then, he laughed. "Ah, you look like such a wretch," he said. "Wait here; I'll get you a towel."

"Thanks," Oikawa said. "You're a real saviour, you know?"

Suga was already halfway out of the room, but Oikawa caught what he said as he left, a quiet, half-vocalised and half-air, "I wonder."

As he roamed around, the rain beat hard against the windowpanes. The rest of Suga's apartment was plain -- nothing special, not even decorations. The only thing that was seemingly out of the ordinary was the way the lightning flashed from outside, blinding Oikawa for a moment. He blinked, dazed.

Suga came back from the hallway. He was shirtless, wearing some sort of gold ring on a chain that bounced against his chest. "Here," he said, jerking Oikawa out of his daze.

There were spots of water dripping down Suga's chest. "Thanks," Oikawa said, belatedly; when he looked Suga in the eyes again, Suga was smiling.

"Well we've found ourselves in quite a situation now, haven't we?" said Suga, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned back against his heels, a comfortable motion. Oikawa was aware of the space between their bodies.

Suga said, "You, in my apartment."

Oikawa repeated, teasing, "Me, in your apartment."

He noticed Suga was holding two towels, slung over the crook of his elbow, and he handed one to Oikawa, which Oikawa took gratefully.

"And you, standing so close," Suga said, as Oikawa brought the towel up to dry his hair. "It certainly is the setting for -- something."

Oikawa watched, fascinated, as Suga ran his own towel over his hair, bringing it to a peaked, fluffy mess. Up close, he could really register the distance between them -- Suga was a good ten centimetres shorter, and it was so prominent when he pulled the towel back around his shoulders and looked up at Oikawa, bedraggled and flushed pink and his eyes only just meeting Oikawa's lips.

And there, between the two dramatically draped ends of the towel, the ring dangled against Suga's chest. Oikawa's mind went to Frodo and Sam and the interminable walk to Mordor, and he wondered just what burden Suga was carrying, and whether it changed anything.

Perhaps Oikawa's eyes lingered a little too long, because Suga shrugged the towel so it hung lower down his upper arms and tugged it closer around his chest, obscuring the ring.

"So," Suga said, "here we are."

Oikawa coughed, trying not to laugh. "Indeed," he said, raising his head to see Suga's beaming face. Despite the thunder outside, the world could've stopped on its axis and Oikawa wouldn't have noticed, with Suga in front of him. "Did you have plans? It's -- " he checked his watch. "Midnight."

"It's morning somewhere," Suga said airily. "What would you do? If you weren't with me and it wasn't raining."

Oikawa wanted to say that he preferred being with Suga -- him and his nondescript apartment, on the highest floor of a building he'd never seen before. But he said, "I suppose I would watch some tv and browse the internet before tucking in."

He fully expected Suga to suggest just that. Suga's lips quirked; something shined in his eyes, brief.

"Let me guess," Suga said, "you think I'll go along with it. We can watch some tv, maybe I'll let you look over my shoulder while I check my feed reader, and then I'll roll out a futon and you can go to sleep and that will be that."

"I've considered a couple of outcomes," Oikawa admitted.

"Tell me another," Suga said. "I'm curious."

Oikawa cleared his throat, almost nervously. "In one outcome, you're so cunning that they never find my body," he said, "but I doubt that one will come to pass."

"You're right on that count," Suga said. "It's hard to hide a body from the top floor."

"There's another," Oikawa continued, "where we just stay like this the whole night, until the clouds clear and it's dawn. Standing here, both of us waiting for the other to make the first move."

"Do you like that option?" Suga asked.

Boldly -- he wasn't even sure where the courage came from, because Suga was still just a stranger and Oikawa really had no idea who he was or what he was capable of or even his full name -- Oikawa reached out and clasped his fingers in the towel around Suga's shoulders. "I don't like it at all," he said.

"So is there a fourth?" Suga asked, as Oikawa brought him into his space.

Suga was heavenly up close, long silvery lashes that fluttered against his cheeks. He closed his eyes almost instinctively, and Oikawa was sure that he himself stopped breathing. The distance between their bodies was even smaller. Oikawa resisted the carnal urge to run his hands down Suga's back, feel the sharp rifts of his shoulderblades that were surely there. He and Suga weren't even touching yet.

"Does this count?" Oikawa asked, before ducking his head down to capture Suga's mouth with his.

His fingers clutched the rough white of the towel. Suga kissed back, gentle, open-mouthed, almost magical. Oikawa's head surely was on another realm as he drank in Suga's warmth, a peripheral sweetness on his tongue unlike anyone Oikawa had ever kissed before. Their noses brushed; Oikawa kept his hands on the towel around Suga's neck, unafraid.

When they broke apart, Suga's eyes were closed and his mouth was still open, like he was gasping for air. "Ah," he said, blinking and looking at Oikawa again.

Oikawa didn't hold back his smirk. "Surprised you, didn't I?"

The corner of Suga's mouth quirked up as he replied, "You want me to admit defeat, huh?"

"I trust you to lose gracefully," Oikawa joked. He loosened his grip on the towel but didn't release it -- instead, he lifted it, tried to draw Suga closer to him.

Suga was having none of it, though. "Yes, alright," he said, "you surprised me. But that's not to say I didn't enjoy it."

After that, their second kiss came fast and easier. There was no need to signal for it, to precede it with all the ceremony that Oikawa usually surrounded his kisses with -- no, it came naturally, and Oikawa couldn't help but wonder where Suga had been his whole life, why he'd been wasting his time searching for romance when it would just walk in and capture him bodily.

"You will stay the night, though, won't you?" Suga asked, almost uncertain -- at least, that's what Oikawa thought he heard between Suga's words. It could as easily have been an affectation, but Oikawa knew he'd relent one way or another.

"I will," he said. "I'd ask if you have room for me to sleep, but..."

Suga laughed lightly. "We won't be doing much sleeping -- is that what you were going to say?"

Oikawa pecked him on the lips again. "Optimistic, aren't you?" he said, reveling in the way that Suga touched his mouth, as if he was surprised that Oikawa happened to him at all.

Suga snickered and tugged him in again.


In the morning, Oikawa woke up to an empty bed. He hardly noticed at first -- it was the room that was new, not Oikawa's usual half-organized mess, posters and notes strewn on his walls and desk. In fact there wasn't even a desk -- just bare white walls, and white sheets.

The events from last night came back to Oikawa like getting hit by a train. They didn't feel real, more like a half remembered dream -- tangles of limbs and giggles and kisses on milky white skin. Oikawa shivered even though the room was well-heated, finding himself smiling. This was Suga's place, yes. Suga must be up and getting ready for the day.

"Oh Suga-chan," he called, swinging his legs out of bed and padding out of the room.

In the hallway, he could hear Suga's voice, loud and slightly pitched from elsewhere.

"I /know/ I screwed up, don't you think I would've realized by now?"

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